For the first time in history, a French wine is about to be blacklisted - and that’s a good thing. Cahors, long the ignored stepchild of France’s great vineyards, may soon be given its own official category: vin noir or black wine. The new designation, awaiting approval by INAO, would mean that restaurants throughout the country could add the term “black wine” to their wine lists along with red, white and rosé. Winemakers, in turn, could have the option of printing Vin Noir de Cahors on their labels. (from France Magazine).
Last night I was finishing reading A French Affair by Michael Kenyon, who used to live in Cahors, and found some of the history of this regional wine rather interesting, so thought I'd post an extract of what he wrote here. (Not tasted it myself yet, as was far too pre-occupied with finding somewhere that served tea during my brief visit, although I'll definitely bring back a bottle next time I'm out there again).
He wrote:
Annual production in 1816, the year after Waterloo - 175,000 barrels.
Production in 1958 - 650 barrels and a real possibility that soon there would be no more ever.
The Romans brought the first vines to Quercy, where no sooner had viticulture got under way than it almost ended. In AD 92 the Emperor Domitian (murdered in a palace conspiracy led by his wife) ordered the destruction of half the provincial vineyards to make room for grain. The vines of Quercy remained uprooted for two centuries until replanting began under a wine enthusiast, the Emperor Probus
(murdered by his troops). The quality of the new vines was good. By 1225 Vin de Cahors was being quoted on the London market.
Pope John XXII gave the wine of his native Quercy a boost by ordering the Auxerrois vines cultivated there to be planted at the papal palace at Avignon.
After the papal palace, the royal palace at Fontainebleu.
The problem wasn't producing stunning wine but distributing it.
Once the wine reached Bordeaux it could be shipped anywhere by sea, but to arrive there the barges had to navigate the frequently treacherous Lot. Tons of wine and grain went to the bottom of the river each year. Once the wine was in Bordeaux, the world's greatest single vineyard, the jealous Bordelais slapped crippling duties on it and often would not allow it out of the port.
The wine got around and its reputation waxed anyway.
The privileged drank it at banquets aboard French transport ships while the lowers orders made do with Vin de Graves and Vin de Bordeaux.
In Russia it became the ceremonial wine at mass in the Russian Orthodox Church.
Vin de Cahors reached the American colonies where fraud discredited it, cochineal being added to rubbish wine for colouring and the result sold as finest imported Vin de Cahors. The half century following the Napoleonic Wars became a golden age of Cahors wine, as for all French wines.
What went wrong? Why, come the 1950s, was the end nigh for Vin de Cahors?
One reason was competition from the new vineyards of the Midi, that vast area of southern France reaching from the Spanish border to the Rhone. With few exceptions these Languedoc wines were not up to the standard of Cahors wine, but with the railway they could travel fast and in bulk to all parts of France. They took business away from all the old established vineyards, and while the great estates of Bordeaux and Burgundy could weather the competition, small growers of wines such as Vin de Cahors suffered.
The second reason was a vine louse in imported American vines. In 1868 the louse became known as phylloxera. In teeming colonies, the vine louse ate the roots of the vines, reaching Quercy in 1877 and destroying half the vineyards. By the end of the decade most of the Bordeaux vineyards were devastated, and a few years later those of Champagne and Burgundy. Two-and-a-half million acres of French vines were laid waste.
The solution was eventually found to be the grafting of French vines - what was left of them - onto imported, louse-resistant American vines. From America came both the louse and remedy. The graftings were in general a success, but in the Lot entire tracts of land had been abandoned, the farmers and their families having lost heart and boarded trains for Paris and boats for the colonies. Two more American diseases struck, black rot and mildew, and returned again and again to wreck the grape harvests. Algerian wine, deluging the country from 1930, was alright for mixing with the rough stuff of the Midi but not with Vin de Cahors. Rarely if ever has a quality wine been so overwhelmed with disaster.
How come the resurrection? Grafting experiments, studies of soil and climate, the founding of a co-operative, and in 1970 the award of the official stamp of approval - Appellation d'Origine Controlee.
Last night I was finishing reading A French Affair by Michael Kenyon, who used to live in Cahors, and found some of the history of this regional wine rather interesting, so thought I'd post an extract of what he wrote here. (Not tasted it myself yet, as was far too pre-occupied with finding somewhere that served tea during my brief visit, although I'll definitely bring back a bottle next time I'm out there again).
He wrote:
Annual production in 1816, the year after Waterloo - 175,000 barrels.
Production in 1958 - 650 barrels and a real possibility that soon there would be no more ever.
The Romans brought the first vines to Quercy, where no sooner had viticulture got under way than it almost ended. In AD 92 the Emperor Domitian (murdered in a palace conspiracy led by his wife) ordered the destruction of half the provincial vineyards to make room for grain. The vines of Quercy remained uprooted for two centuries until replanting began under a wine enthusiast, the Emperor Probus
(murdered by his troops). The quality of the new vines was good. By 1225 Vin de Cahors was being quoted on the London market.
Pope John XXII gave the wine of his native Quercy a boost by ordering the Auxerrois vines cultivated there to be planted at the papal palace at Avignon.
After the papal palace, the royal palace at Fontainebleu.
The problem wasn't producing stunning wine but distributing it.
Once the wine reached Bordeaux it could be shipped anywhere by sea, but to arrive there the barges had to navigate the frequently treacherous Lot. Tons of wine and grain went to the bottom of the river each year. Once the wine was in Bordeaux, the world's greatest single vineyard, the jealous Bordelais slapped crippling duties on it and often would not allow it out of the port.
The wine got around and its reputation waxed anyway.
The privileged drank it at banquets aboard French transport ships while the lowers orders made do with Vin de Graves and Vin de Bordeaux.
In Russia it became the ceremonial wine at mass in the Russian Orthodox Church.
Vin de Cahors reached the American colonies where fraud discredited it, cochineal being added to rubbish wine for colouring and the result sold as finest imported Vin de Cahors. The half century following the Napoleonic Wars became a golden age of Cahors wine, as for all French wines.
What went wrong? Why, come the 1950s, was the end nigh for Vin de Cahors?
One reason was competition from the new vineyards of the Midi, that vast area of southern France reaching from the Spanish border to the Rhone. With few exceptions these Languedoc wines were not up to the standard of Cahors wine, but with the railway they could travel fast and in bulk to all parts of France. They took business away from all the old established vineyards, and while the great estates of Bordeaux and Burgundy could weather the competition, small growers of wines such as Vin de Cahors suffered.
The second reason was a vine louse in imported American vines. In 1868 the louse became known as phylloxera. In teeming colonies, the vine louse ate the roots of the vines, reaching Quercy in 1877 and destroying half the vineyards. By the end of the decade most of the Bordeaux vineyards were devastated, and a few years later those of Champagne and Burgundy. Two-and-a-half million acres of French vines were laid waste.
The solution was eventually found to be the grafting of French vines - what was left of them - onto imported, louse-resistant American vines. From America came both the louse and remedy. The graftings were in general a success, but in the Lot entire tracts of land had been abandoned, the farmers and their families having lost heart and boarded trains for Paris and boats for the colonies. Two more American diseases struck, black rot and mildew, and returned again and again to wreck the grape harvests. Algerian wine, deluging the country from 1930, was alright for mixing with the rough stuff of the Midi but not with Vin de Cahors. Rarely if ever has a quality wine been so overwhelmed with disaster.
How come the resurrection? Grafting experiments, studies of soil and climate, the founding of a co-operative, and in 1970 the award of the official stamp of approval - Appellation d'Origine Controlee.
1 comments:
I love the rustic reds, too. Click on my name and check out my label collection!
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