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French Country Travel Life Wine Miracle

A French Country Travel Life Wine Miracle? – You betcha. There are many. But this one is in a class by itself.
As you well know, the majority of those who love wine prize the older varities. This is the classic “good news” -bad news” scenario. The good, depending on the quality of the cork. The bad – when you get a cork that’s croaked. Then you have an extra bottle of vinegar for your salad/cooking. Sadly, DA BG has had this unhappy experience more than once.
But this French Country Travel Life Miracle is concerned not with the stuff in the bottle, but the grapes that make the stuff in the bottle.
Jane Anson fills us in:
A plot of 200-year-old French vines has just been classified a Monument Historique, the first time a vineyard has been awarded the distinction.
‘A remarkable example of genetic resilience’: Jean-Pascal and René Pédebernade
The vines, dating to between 1800 and 1830, are located in AOC Saint-Montin the Gers, and cover an area of 2,000 square metres.
They are pre-Phylloxera vines which have not been grafted onto American rootstock, as is normal practise today.
Part of a 12-hectare estate near the village of Nenin, the classified vines belong to 85-year-old René Pédebernade.
The estate is now run by his son, Jean-Pascal, but René still looks after this oldest plot, using traditional methods of cultivation. The vines grow on sandy soil, explaining how they survived the Phylloxerra epidemic.
Some are arranged in both perpendicular and parallel directions rather than one single line, a method of cultivation that was abandoned in the late 19th century, and was designed to allow oxen to move easily around the rows.
There is a mix of 20 red and white grape varieties, including Tannat, Fer Servadou, Muscadelle, and seven varieties not previously classified, which have been baptised Pédebernade 1 to 7 in honour of their owner.
‘The vines are a remarkable example of biodiversity and genetic resilience,’ Eric Fitan, director of the Wine Bureau of Saint-Mont told Decanter.com, ‘and also provide us with a crucial link back to how vines were cultivated in the days before Phylloxera.’
The grapes from the main estate are sent to local cooperative Producteurs Plaimont – run by André Dubosc, a long-term supporter of forgotten grape varieties, who runs a vine conservatory in Saint Mont and pays his cooperative members a premium for looking after any old, rare plots of vines.
Read More about this French Country Travel Life Wine Miracle HERE.
THROW ME A BONE HERE, PEOPLE!
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French Country Travel Life Legacy – Part Four
French Country Travel Life Legacy – Part Four brings us to the inevitable conclusion of my French-Mexican adventure. Checking out Parts One, Two and/or Three may help you connect the dots more easily.
After two plus weeks of Ten hour “Mr. Fix-It-Up” days Paul returned to France for Christmas. DA BG had agreed(with no arms twisted) to stay on until the end of January to provide a “security presence.” (my greatest unhearlded talent.)
With Paul gone my routine remained basically the same. With one exception: Wine Rationing! I had only three bottles of White to last seven weeks! Which meant less than a quarter (tiny)verre per meal. And(shock horror) only once per day. This, dear reader was wine appreciations most challenging hour. Why didn’t I just buy more from our tiny village “supermercado?” One word: “Undrinkable!”
Like all good things, my mission of “Mexican assistance” came too soon to an end. Again I was on the same bus. This time in the opposite direction. And this time – no Ramon . Wait – it gets worse. Yes, dear reader, this driver/DJ was into hard core Country Music. “Big eight wheeler rollin’ down the track means your lovin’ daddy ain’t comin’ back – I’m movin’ on” (sung with a closepeg on your nose for maximum fidelity)
After two weeks back in the land of drinkable wine(almost) everywhere, no “bon mots” from Paul or Denis. I was just about to phone when Denis appeared at my door. With a shoe box.
I sensed correctly from his uncharacteristically somber mood that a shoe-based joke would not be appropriate.
After a long pause Denis murmured softly: “It’s Paul……last night…..” He didn’t finish the sentence. Nor did he need to. “How” I asked. “In his sleep” Denis replied.
No further words were needed. As we each silently savored our connections to this treasure of a man.
Finally, Denis offered me the box. “He left this for you.” You know what was in the box, dear reader. Do you not? Inside the glass was this note. In Paul’s elegant calligraphic hand : “Whenever you drink from this I hope you’ll remember your time in Mexico with an old pal.” And I do, dear reader. I do.
THROW ME A BONE HERE,PEOPLE!
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French Country Travel Life Legacy – Part Three
French Country Travel Life Legacy – Part Three brings us futher along the road of this saga’s adventure.. PARTS ONE and TWO may add to your understanding/enjoyment/desire to nominate me for the pulitzer.
Like Klimt inVienna, Paul was “born at the right time.” My take anyway – considering when I was born. But then isn’t every fascinating period of History we never lived through “the right time?” Especially when we know someone who did? (tee-shirt idea – “NOW is the right time!)
Paul knew(and turned down an offer to work with) the legendaryFrank Llyod Wright. Ditto Paola Solari the “visionary” who created (the World’s first?) “eco city” in the Arizona desert. However Paul did advise him. For free.
Peyote with the Indians? Commissions from Heads of State Worldwide? Rafting the Amazon? Designing affordable inner-city housing? Rapping with Kerouac? Been there. Done that. Got the tee-shirt.
The best sunsets at Chez Paul arrived courtesty of L.A. smog.(Probably the only benefit, n’est ce pas?) For whatever meterological reason the noxious gases that regularly caused L.A. schools to close – opened our eyes wider with a cavalcade of irridescent colors.This was our “apero entertainment” as we caught the last rays of the day.
With his mirror shades and full head of steely gray hair, Paul was every inch the Hollywood prototype of Worldly “tough guy.” Add the wirey frame and working man’s jeans, and it wasn’t hard to imagine this is how James Dean might have aged.
Paul didn’t say much during our “patio sunsets”. But, to paraphrase Spencer Tracy’s description of Katherine Hepburn, what he did say was “cherc.” Particularly about his first wife, Ravi. Clearly the great love of his life. A native of the Ivory Coast, she met Paul during his time there helping to create housing for the locals. As her’s was one of the families Paul had helped, she wanted to give him a thank you gift.But no cash in the cupboard.
So Ravi presented him with a family heirloom. Small. Fragile. With a unique understated beauty any artists would appreciate. A glass. A (soon to be) Whiskey glass. The one Paul now cradled fondly as he silently tracked it’s History. Bathed in sunset’s last gleaming.
THROW ME A BONE HERE, PEOPLE!
What are ya thinkin’?