THE LOIRE
The town of Saumur, along the River Loire, makes both red and white wines. Photo from Lea Deleligne on unsplash
Near Lyon, the two great “wine rivers”rivers of France, the Rhône and the Loire, pass within 30 miles of each other, flowing in opposite directions, the Loire north and the Rhône south. The vineyards lining their shores grow grapes and make wines that go their separate ways, too.
The Rhône excels at powerful and opulent reds, perfect winter warmers. The Loire, while also a major red wine producer, is its country’s white wine headquarters. All Loire wines of whatever stripe are, by and large, more delicate than the Rhône’s.
Because its vineyards sit close to the upper latitudinal limit of grape growing in France, the Loire was a very important source of wine for the capital—especially the royal court—of Paris, as well as for those countries north and east of France that were and are unable to grow grapes, especially Belgium and the Netherlands. Along with Champagne, the Loire was the first vineyard that the Low Countries, say, or Scandinavia could find when seeking wine in France.
This may explain the Loire’s amazing diversity of wine styles. It produces every sort of wine, and that from a variety of different red and white grapes: dry and off-dry sparkling wine, both white and pink; dry whites from a multitude of grapes; dry reds from various red grape varieties, along a wide spectrum of weight and density, from diaphanously elegant to thick and tannic; slightly to very sweet white wines; and dry and off-dry still pink wines.
When you are an important marketplace for countries that cannot make wine, it helps to stock the shelves with as many different products as possible in order to satisfy varying demands. It is not surprising that the Loire is nicknamed “le jardin de France,” the garden of France.
The Loire is also diverse in another aspect important to grape growing: its soil types. They include flint, silex (flint and sand), the famed Kimmeridgian limestone, sandstone, gravel mixed with clay, and a variant on limestone there called “tuffeau.” Each soil lends its individual strong points to the vines growing on it, Kimmeridgian, for example, being highly charged with minerals.
Three major white grapes grow in three major vineyard regions that are splayed along the length of the Loire, from southeast of Orleans all the way to the Atlantic Ocean and the river’s exit.
The western Loire is the stronghold of the grape melon de Bourgogne (possibly related to chardonnay, hence the name). The middle section is where many believe the world’s greatest chenin blanc grows. And to the east, we find (what some also believe is the world’s greatest) sauvignon blanc. (About red grapes, see below.)
All of these grapes make white wines that display what the French call “nervosité,” a kind of electricity, if you will, that plays off the wine’s fruit with its always-abundant acidity. A Loire white, from whichever major grape, is like a plucked treble string; its acidity tingles, cleanses and refreshes, whatever the concentration of fruit or sugar. (This is also why few Loire whites are oak-aged; wood would get in the way.)
Here are many white wines from the Loire to recommend, sectioned by their grape variety.
Melon de Bourgogne
The melon is like riesling in the manner it so faithfully reflects its soil. It is the basis for Muscadet, very much an under-appreciated wine, so many of which incorporate geologic words as part of the name of the wine.
Chenin blanc
The great white grape of the central Loire, chenin blanc can come around as lean and nervy as Savennieres and some Vouvray or as lusciously sweet as a Quarts de Chaume—and all styles in between. Its high acidity makes it one of the more age-worthy white wines too.
Sauvignon blanc
A Parisian bistro isn’t without its pitcher of Sancerre, from the eastern Loire and made of sauvignon blanc. Several other winemaking regions in the neighborhood also excel with sauvignon.
Loire reds
During the Jurassic period, trillions of oysters as cute as a button—and about that size—called exogyra virgula gave of their lives and shells and, compacted atop each other and other marine fossils, became one of the globe’s foremost soil types for growing wine grapes, a limestone marl called the Kimmeridgian.
The soil gets its name from the wee town of Kimmeridge, in the county of Dorset, England, where geologists first isolated it as significant. The oyster got its name because its shell is shaped like a comma, from the Latin virgula or “twig,” the basis for the French virgule, or comma.
The Kimmeridgian is an extensive and enormous outcropping of rock and soil; you see it as the white cliffs of Dover; it is the basement cellar wall, floor and ceiling of nearly any house in Champagne. Wherever the Kimmeridgian pops up, in winemaking places such as Chablis for example, its abundance of minerals makes for a certain “cut” in the wines made of grapes grown on it.
The little oyster plays a huge role also in the wines made along the great river of central France, the Loire. You’ll find in Loire reds the same combination of bright fruit and zesty acidity that characterizes Loire whites such as Muscadet and Sancerre. Red wines from the Loire are not heavy-handed and tannic; they are some of the more food-friendly red wines made in the entire country.
The better Loire reds (and dry pinks) come from the grape cabernet franc, although several other red grapes grow into red wine here, notably pinot noir and gamay.
Cabernet franc is a fascinating grape whose origins are obscure because it is also an ancient vine, well over 1,000 years old. The beginnings of its progeny, however, are clear: it is the parent of no less than the most widely planted and sought-after red grape on the globe, cabernet sauvignon (via a spontaneous crossing with sauvignon blanc), and also of merlot and carmenère.
Along with its children, then, and with the black-tinted petit verdot, you will find it common to the red blends of Bordeaux.
But from the Loire, it tastes better, by and large, than any of its kids because the Loire’s cooler, milder temperatures are better suited to it. While cabernet sauvignon, for example, is grown along the Loire, it’s difficult to ripen and hence can smell and taste “weedy.” (Cabernet franc often has a whiff of what we could call “the green,” but that is one of its calling cards.)
Cabernet franc is also crisper and fresher, softer and less dark, and also more aromatic than cabernet sauvignon. Many bistros in close-by Paris will pour you a red Loire wine such as Chinon or Bourgueil, made of all cabernet franc, should you ask for a “glass of red.”
It’s not surprising to find pinot noir grown in the eastern Loire, in places such as Sancerre (20 percent of the production of this region, clearly famous for its white wine, is red). Burgundy is only 100 miles away. A small amount of red and pink wine from the Loire is made of pinot d’Aunis that, despite the name, is not related to pinot noir.
From the Loire, you’ll also find red wines made of malbec, there called “côt,” from gamay and from a grape indigenous to the Loire, the grolleau.
In their native land, Loire reds are aimed at the table. They commonly arrive there served slightly cool, a sure sign in France that refreshment with food is about to occur.
And what do the French enjoy with their Loire reds? The range is wide, from lighter fare such as rillettes of rabbit, pork or duck, to all manner of fowl cooked any which way, through to the heavier dishes of autumn and winter.