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A tale of two wineries
Jan. 26th, 2008 06:44 pmThe hill between Narbonne and Gruissan is the Montagne de la Clape, which we already knew as a wine-producing area, but only because of the corny joke, that we might have a bottle but at least we didn't have a case of La Clape (thank you, D.).
Naturally we wanted to become better acquainted. With nothing better to go on, I had picked up a leaflet at the hotel about Château l'Hospitalet, where we would allegedly find not only a winery but also various artisans and a second-hand bookshop. We had a little trouble locating the place, but eventually pulled off the road and down a drive to a large car-park; below us were a cluster of buildings which had clearly once been a large farm, and above us the vines rose up the slopes. Tractors with huge metal teeth were bustling too and fro among the vines, stripping off the grapes, but the little shops around the farm yard below us were all dark and still; at the very beginning of October, the tourist season was over. On the far side of the courtyard the barn sheltered the great stainless vats, and a door beside it let into a great showroom, where wines from all parts of France were stacked high. A member of staff greeted us politely as he passed on his way to somewhere else, so we wandered around reading the labels and decided that no, there really was nothing here that interested us enough to try to catch someone's attention, and left.
Further research suggests that the wines might actually be worth a try, but that we can get them in Tesco's.
Never mind; as we drove away we passed the cheerful red sign of the Mas du Soleilla. It looked individual, characterful, and it looked welcoming, so we turned in, parked by the vines and rang the bell by the garage door. At first nothing happened, then the little dog came running up, followed by his owner who unlocked the up-and-over garage door to reveal a little tasting room with a counter at the far end. She openined bottles, we tasted, we commented on the wines, and on the basis of our reactions more wines were opened - and we came away with five bottles of an extremely agreeable table wine called Jason (it's a moth, apparently) and, nestled in among them, one bottle of their AOC La Clape, wonderful and rich and complex.
Which demonstrates, I suppose, that sometimes it's right to be swayed by first impressions.
Naturally we wanted to become better acquainted. With nothing better to go on, I had picked up a leaflet at the hotel about Château l'Hospitalet, where we would allegedly find not only a winery but also various artisans and a second-hand bookshop. We had a little trouble locating the place, but eventually pulled off the road and down a drive to a large car-park; below us were a cluster of buildings which had clearly once been a large farm, and above us the vines rose up the slopes. Tractors with huge metal teeth were bustling too and fro among the vines, stripping off the grapes, but the little shops around the farm yard below us were all dark and still; at the very beginning of October, the tourist season was over. On the far side of the courtyard the barn sheltered the great stainless vats, and a door beside it let into a great showroom, where wines from all parts of France were stacked high. A member of staff greeted us politely as he passed on his way to somewhere else, so we wandered around reading the labels and decided that no, there really was nothing here that interested us enough to try to catch someone's attention, and left.
Further research suggests that the wines might actually be worth a try, but that we can get them in Tesco's.
Never mind; as we drove away we passed the cheerful red sign of the Mas du Soleilla. It looked individual, characterful, and it looked welcoming, so we turned in, parked by the vines and rang the bell by the garage door. At first nothing happened, then the little dog came running up, followed by his owner who unlocked the up-and-over garage door to reveal a little tasting room with a counter at the far end. She openined bottles, we tasted, we commented on the wines, and on the basis of our reactions more wines were opened - and we came away with five bottles of an extremely agreeable table wine called Jason (it's a moth, apparently) and, nestled in among them, one bottle of their AOC La Clape, wonderful and rich and complex.Which demonstrates, I suppose, that sometimes it's right to be swayed by first impressions.
