John Lewis-Stempel visits the village of Cognac to learn how the eponymous digestif and the local wine, pineau, is made
WE drove down to Cognac yesterday. Road signs on the 25-mile journey to the capital of brandy manufacture were hardly required. We just followed the sun and the increasing congregation of vineyards. On the D731, outside Cognac, the vineyards reach the horizon.
In winter, Cognac’s viticultural flatland is a sort of hell—endless, pierced with stakes, tied with lines of wire. In winter, the regimentation of the yards brings always to mind war cemeteries. Yesterday, the vineyards were draped along in summer’s green leaves and young growing grapes, which softened the scene—somewhat.
The production of wine, regular or distilled into brandy, is not always a pretty process. Before I moved to France, I fondly imagined the château on the bottle label was exactly that, a dreamy confection of a French country house, the refinement of which was only outdone by that of the baron-owner, as he walked his vineyard in September’s dewy dawn, cashmere cardigan loosely wrapped over his shoulders. Actually, château in vinification is but a prefix attachable to any old vineyard, the building on which can be a breeze-block shed and often is.
The day out in Cognac was a bit of a busman’s day trip; my wife and I intend to produce pineau, a local fortified wine made from fermented grape must and cognac. In the cave of our Charentais house, all the kit of pineau manufacture lies about—stone vats, a giant screw-press, bottles, a barrel ramp—although unused for five or more cobwebby decades.
Denne historien er fra June 26, 2019-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra June 26, 2019-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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All that money could buy
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In with the old
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