Families of the Vine: Seasons among the Winemakers of Southwest France


Author Michael Sanders spent two years in the vineyards of southwest France with three families whose destinies are determined each year, every year, by the soil, the weather, and the quality of the grape, and shared with them the hopes of spring, the anguish of summer drought, and the mad rush of the fall harvest. In Families of the Vine, he offers a vivid, heartfelt portrait of these authentic winemakers in a fascinating, intensely human saga of strength, dedication, and savoir faire. Though their wines may ...

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Author Michael Sanders spent two years in the vineyards of southwest France with three families whose destinies are determined each year, every year, by the soil, the weather, and the quality of the grape, and shared with them the hopes of spring, the anguish of summer drought, and the mad rush of the fall harvest. In Families of the Vine, he offers a vivid, heartfelt portrait of these authentic winemakers in a fascinating, intensely human saga of strength, dedication, and savoir faire. Though their wines may differ, they all share a powerful, uncompromising passion for the timeless craft that defines them.

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Editorial Reviews

Library Journal
To the south of the more familiar Bordeaux region lie the vineyards of Cahors (pronounced CAH-or) that have also produced robust wines for over 1000 years. Sanders (From Here, You Can't See Paris) turns his talents to following several families there during the ups and downs of the winemaking year. Through conversations, a bit of history, and vivid descriptions of occurrences outside the vintners' control (e.g., the devastating 2003 drought), the author aptly illustrates how family traditions, French regulations, climate, business skills, and the winemaker's expertise contribute to each year's production. Like William Echikson's Noble Rot: A Bordeaux Wine Revolution, Sanders's book brings contemporary winemaking in France to life. The text concludes with a brief guide on where to stay, where to dine, and sample wines in the Cahors appellation. Absorbing and informative; for larger public libraries and special collections.-Andrea R. Dietze, Orange Cty. P.L., Santa Ana, CA Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
With great respect and admiration, Sanders (From Here, You Can't See Paris, 2002, etc.) pores over the convivial and welcoming wines of southern France. As he chronicles a year among three of the region's producers, Sanders depicts French wine shorn of pretense, as a part of everyday life more than a commodity. The text focuses on vin de Cahors, a local petit vin grown in the valleys and hills of the Lot River. Sanders describes the elegance and specific geology of this ancient wine-producing region, which can trace its heritage back 2,000 years. He concentrates on three growers, delineating their various approaches and the little finesses they bring to their work. Winemaking here is in touch with its roots: coopers continue to make the barrels; no filtration subtracts from the wine's character; butterflies are looked upon warily as harbingers of blight. The narrative voice is as companionable as the subject-and bell clear, which readers might not be after a few glasses of dark, meaty Cahors wine, characterized by the author as an ordinary, unthreatening, but very tasteful drink. Recounting the education of a sommelier becomes the reader's education too. (How to get the right bottle for the meal? Ask!) Sanders salutes the local makers' iconoclasm. On the one hand, they are happy that vin de Cahors has been elevated to the status of an appellation controlee (certification of a certain level of quality), yet they also happily plant grapes outside the prescribed varietals, devoting an acre to cabernet franc or sauvignon blanc. As one grower said, "We make the white and the rose for our own amusement, because it makes a change, a little something different." A refreshing portrait of wine notas an elite mystery, but as a product wrung from the earth by honest labor.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780060559656
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 4/4/2006
  • Series: P.S. Series
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 304
  • Sales rank: 863,674
  • Product dimensions: 5.31 (w) x 8.00 (h) x 0.68 (d)

Meet the Author

Michael S. Sanders, a former book editor and author of The Yard, lives in midcoast Maine with his wife and daughter.

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Table of Contents

1 Yves and Martine Jouffreau at Clos de Gamot 1
2 Young man in a hurry : Philippe Bernede at Clos la Coutale 19
3 Man in the middle : Jean-Luc Blades at Clos Triguedina 38
4 A short history of Vin de Cahors 56
5 It's the terroir, stupid! 78
6 The long, hot summer 89
7 Harvest 120
8 Vinification 2002 : making the wine 141
9 Vines in winter 170
10 A visit to the cooper 191
11 Wine at the restaurant table : a few hours with Laurent Marre at Le Balandre 216
12 Yves' folly : up on the mountain at Clos St. Jean 242
13 Where to taste in Cahors 257
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First Chapter

Families of the Vine
Seasons Among the Winemakers of Southwest France

Chapter One

Yves and Martine Jouffreau
At Clos Degamot

When you drive up to Clos de Gamot, a vineyard owned by Yves and Martine Jouffreau-Hermann (referred to from here on as the Jouffreaus) in the Lot River valley in southwest France, there is no allée of hundred-year-old plane trees, no expanse of coiffed lawn rolling up to an old stone château whose leaded glass windows and lichened roof slates whisper of great age and past nobility. The only thing that runs up to the vast, unpretentious collection of buildings is row upon row of vines. As far as the eye can see in every direction, the vines run away from you, a sea of ordered green stretching across the broad valley to the rising limestone escarpment beyond the Lot River on the north and to another range of low hills several miles to the south. Thirty-two acres of this sea make up Clos de Gamot. It is one of the oldest and most reputable of the 500-odd players in the appellation called vin de Cahors, maker of wines served both at the White House and at the Elysées Palace, and I had expected something much more impressive. I had heard so much about this family and its wine, had read so much about the role that Martine's father, Jean Jouffreau, had played over his more than sixty-year career in resurrecting Cahors from a mediocre table wine to appellation status, that my mind had conjured up a grand château, or at least a large manor house.

Instead, a low hedge of neatly trimmed greenery marks the driveway leading back to a large parking lot, also surrounded by vines, with staked rosebushes blooming profusely red at the end of each row. Although they are here to add a touch of beauty, a welcome splash of color to relieve the unbroken green and brown of the vines, the roses have a purpose. Susceptible to the same plant and insect ravages as grapevines, such plantings are the vineyard equivalent of the canary in the coal mine, though today much more sophisticated methods exist to detect trouble. Still, while Clos de Gamot is neat and orderly, the roses are about the only bow to aesthetics in a place otherwise presenting a more sober, workmanlike demeanor to the world.

On the right long, low stuccoed buildings house offices; farther back, you see the first of several chais, the cavernous barns where the grapes are fermented into wine before being aged in huge wooden tuns. These buildings are also of putty-tinted stucco under putty-colored sheet-metal roofs, well maintained and simple in appearance. To the left a large, traditional two-story farmhouse rises, Martine's childhood home, its stone walls painted a dull gray, the dressed stones of doorways and windows marked out in a red once the color of the local wine, now faded to a mellow ochre. "Dégustation," wine tasting, reads a sign affixed to the corner of the building, pointing the way to a small outbuilding tucked behind the house.

While the materials may be more utilitarian than luxurious, the entire place is clean and tidy, with bright pots of flowers here and there and not a scrap of trash or a single weed in evidence. Still, it is a far cry from the imposing châteaux of other wineries in the top ranks hereabouts, and thus the last place I would have expected to find a subterranean picture gallery, a museum in miniature enshrining the history and tradition of a single family.

It was the last week of July in the year 2002, a very hot, cloudless day, and I was looking forward to finally spending an uninterrupted couple of hours with the Jouffreaus when we could at last talk at length about their wine and their lives. My family and I had spent thirteen months in 2000–2001 in this region, living just over the ridge, where I had written a book (From Here, You Can't See Paris) about a very small village, Les Arques, and its restaurant. I had met Yves and Martine in passing, at tastings and once during the harvest at their second property, Château de Cayrou. When I had expressed interest in perhaps writing about their vineyard and winery some day, they had suggested I start with a visit. That had been almost a year ago.

It was Martine who met me, with a big smile and a hearty handshake, at the door of the office. Martine Jouffreau is, like her husband, short and stocky -- and she is like him, too, in the way she stands, firmly rooted and upright, coming across very much as someone of the earth. There the resemblance ends. After her dazzling white smile, which crosses her wide features often, you notice her long raven-black hair and very smooth, pale skin. She speaks softly, too, and with a gentle formality that to me, at that early point in our acquaintance, signaled a distance, a sense of caution, the reasons for which it would take me some time to learn. All together she reminded me, at first, of a doe, so quiet and watchful, those almond-shaped brown eyes wide open and alert to any danger to her own.

After a bit of small talk, she suggested we begin with a visit to the "picture gallery" as she called it, and then finish with a wine tasting. I sighed inwardly, fully expecting a ghastly collection of artifacts, dioramas, and amateur hour at the easel, all contributing to that quaint and picturesque vision of nineteenth-century bucolic vineyard life that I already knew had almost nothing to do with reality. In other words, I feared it was the first step on the package tour ...

Families of the Vine
Seasons Among the Winemakers of Southwest France
. Copyright © by Michael Sanders. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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