Diary of a Shopkeeper, 17th May

Life on Mars. Photo courtesy of Le Clos du Serres.

A few weeks ago, one of our wine importers recommended a new winery. It’s not possible for us to visit every wine producer in the world, or even Europe, so building up relationships with trusted importers is key. We take their suggestions seriously – though we always check them with our own tastebuds.

Le Clos du Serres is a small, organic producer in Terrasses du Larzac, in Languedoc in southern France. Larzac is a limestone plateau of barren land, which historically has been used mostly for the grazing of sheep. It’s here that France’s most famous sheep’s milk cheese, Roquefort, is made. Roquefort was the first area to be granted special AOC protection – appellation d'origine contrôlée – for its unique product, back in 1925. But it wasn’t until 2005 that Terrasses du Larzac was recognised with its own AOC for red wine.

The plateau steps down southwards in a series of eroded ‘terraces,’ with the decaying rock looking sometimes like the surface of the moon, and sometimes like Mars. The poor soil of crumbling rock is ideal for growing vines: their roots push deep in the search for nutrients and water.

Not many Terrasses du Larzac wines reach this country. The south of France is a mosaic of small, interesting, but hard to differentiate wine areas. They all have to compete with each other for our attention. Even more difficult, they have to compete with simple, shorthand brands like ‘New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc’ or ‘Argentinean Malbec.’

Harvesting by hand. Photo courtesy of Le Clos du Serres.

Beatrice and Sebastien Fillon at Le Clos du Serres have just 15 hectares of vines, and make a few hundred cases each of eight different wines. It’s a challenge for them to grab shelf space when they’re up against large producers. Like Vinadeis from Corbières, 100 miles to the west, for instance, who make around 30 million bottles per year.

But once a combination of hard work and good luck brings the bottles of a particular winery to our shelves, such size comparisons become meaningless. The only thing that matters is comparing what’s in one bottle with what’s in another. With Le Clos du Serres this comparison is a particularly rewarding experience. We have two of their reds at the moment. Despite being made by the same people in the same small winery, and with grapes grown within a few hundred metres of each other, they could not be more different.

‘Les Maros’ is made mostly from Grenache, with a small amount of Cinsault and Carignan. It has a lovely vibrant ruby colour, and is almost translucent. The Grenache brings raspberry flavours and low tannins. It’s a juicy, refreshing red that is good by itself or with lighter foods. On a warm day it’s refreshing if served lightly chilled. The grapes for ‘Sainte Pauline’ come from a much warmer vineyard than the east-facing slopes of ‘Les Maros.’ That adds to its riper, richer style, as does the fact that its main grape is Syrah. It’s opaque in the glass, with intense dark-fruit flavours and lots of tightly-wound energy: it needs good Orkney beef or other full-flavoured food to show its best.

Neither wine is aged in oak barrels, so they don’t have the seductive oaky sweetness that you get from, say, a good Rioja. It’s all about the hand-picked, organic fruit, and about the soil and climate the grapes are grown in: the terroir, as the French say.

Trying the two together is a crystal-clear demonstration of the importance of terroir. It’s also a great lesson in the value of seeking out wines from small producers. Their sense of individuality and character is much more interesting than bland, factory-made wines.

Quality, not quantity!

You can read more about Clos du Serres on their website. We now also have their excellent white wine, called Le Saut du Poisson.

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 17th May 2023. A new one appears weekly. I post them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations., and occasional small corrections or additions