Châteauneuf-du-Pape
Châteauneuf-du-Pape is a lovely little village/town in the southern Rhone valley, about 18 km to the north of Avignon, and 670 km south of Paris. You can get from Paris to Avignon in less than 3 hours in the high-speed train (TGV), as I did yesterday.
The town is surrounded by vineyards. And a gallop through vineyards, as I did, is very pleasant, and a way to meet and chat with locals (see photo).
Châteauneuf-du-Pape has a long history, dating back to at least Roman times. It came into its own in the 14th century when Avignon became the residence of the popes starting from the reign of John XXII.
It was thanks to John XXII that the Châteauneuf-du-Pape vineyards were able to develop. He brought with him to Avignon bankers and winegrowers from Cahors who laid the foundations for today’s great wines.
The Castle of Châteauneuf was probably originally a Roman castrum destroyed during the great invasions. The castrum on the hill was replaced with new construction by the Count of Toulouse. The first mention of a Castro Novo (new fortified village), which led to the name Châteauneuf, did not appear until 1048.
In the 14th century, Pope John XXII decided to build a new château above the village. Today, the chateau is a charming ruin overlooking the town. It is a nice gallop up the hill to enjoy a wonderful view.
As cultural tourism has become one of France’s major industries, Châteauneuf-du-Pape and many other French towns/villages are now devoted to wine tourism – in the form of fine dining restaurants, casual dining cafes/bistros and boutiques offering wine tasting and marketing.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape seems to be doing well, although the locals complain of a fall in international tourists, possibly due to the state of France and the Olympic Games which may be deterring more tourists than it is attracting.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape deserves to be doing well. Its red wine is one of my very favourites in France. It is a big flavoured red, with a nice balance of fruit and tannin, and a strong backbone.
For those who are more poetic than me, it reportedly “bursts with rich raspberry and plummy fruit flavours. As it evolves, you’ll taste notes of dusted leather, game, and herbs…It often finishes on a sweet-strawberry tingle that glows in the back of your throat from elevated alcohol. The finish ranges from sweet to savory, depending on the vintage.”
What is intriguing is that no fewer than thirteen grape varieties can be used in the composition of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. They are Grenache (black, gray, white), Syrah, Mourvèdre, Cinsault, Clairette (white, pink), Vaccarèse, Bourboulenc, Roussanne, Counoise, Muscardin, Picpoul (white, gray, black), Picardan, and Terret Noir.
Apparently, everyone of the hundreds of winemakers in Châteauneuf-du-Pape make their own “assemblage” (blend). But Grenache always dominates. Indeed, I tasted four wines, two of which were 100% Grenache, and the other two were Grenache, with a small portion of Syrah. Grenache is originally from the Iberian Peninsula, but it has found a chosen land in the southern Rhone Valley.
Châteauneuf-du-Pape also exists as a wonderful white wine, although it does not exceed 7% of the total of wines from the appellation. Six of the permitted grape varieties are indeed white, namely Grenache blanc, Clairette, Roussanne, Bourboulenc, Picpoul and Picardan. However, Grenache blanc, a mutation of Grenache noir, is the most commonly used grape variety.
As I wandered through the vineyards around the town, I came across Andrea, an Austrian gentleman, who was tending his vines (see photo). He claimed to be the only foreigner working as a viticulteur in Châteauneuf-du-Pape.
Andrea said that he was accepted quite well by the locals. His employer decided to exploit his Austrian wine making skills, by putting him in charge of the grapes for white wine. Not surprisingly, the quality of his white wines has improved markedly!
Over lunch in a nice cafe, I tried a version of Australia’s wonderful dessert, Pavlova. It was curiously named “deconstructed pavlova” (see photo). In fact, the chefs seem to have attempted an easy, short-cut way of making pavlova, which was not a great success – as usual in France.