It seemed pretty hot for a cool wine growing region. Standing on top of the slope looking out at the stunning beauty of the countryside I felt enveloped in peace and drenched in the sun’s hot rays. Strangely the scene was made all the more peaceful for the birdsong and the peal of distant church bells as I looked at the vines and listened to the winemakers around me. I heard their passion and their commitment and I hoped that the wines I would soon taste were as good and as interesting as the story I was being told.
You see, I had come on this trip to Angers deliberately because I was pretty sure that I didn’t like these wines. All the books and many experts say that Savennières ranks as one of the greatest wines of France – certainly that country’s finest dry white made from Chenin Blanc. Personally though I have never been able to see what the fuss was about – much as I fail to find the pleasure in Condrieu. Savennières was certainly dry and had that typical Chenin high acid, but I could never see its charm. It was hard and unyielding and seemed reminiscent of sucking a pumice stone – austere might be the kindest word to use. We were always told that they needed to be old to show at their best, but frankly who wants old white wine nowadays?
So, I was here on this hill-top to confront my lack of knowledge and understanding – I wanted to see what I was missing and whether I should update my view. Continue reading