Rescuing Memories: Philippe Gayral’s Vins Doux Naturels

 BY NEAL MARTIN | OCTOBER 10, 2018

Wine is the Anna Wintour of the beverage world – it has always been fashion-conscious. Consider the widespread popularity of Sauternes amongst sweet-toothed Victorian oenophiles, even that old sugar lump Liebfraumilch during the 1970s that caused an entire generation of diabetes. Nowadays, fickle wine-lovers shun dessert wines and prefer to order an Uber than a cheeky Barsac at the end of dinner. No wine category has suffered an ignominious fall like Vins Doux Naturels (VdN): sidelined and forgotten about, virtually written out of history. VdN is the fashion equivalent of the lilac shell suit. Banyuls, Rivesaltes and Maury are veteran actors written out of the vinous soap opera; their characters not killed off in some end-of-series climax, but quietly starved of lines to read so that the audience never notices. In its heyday during the 1950s, more than 60 million litres of VdN was sold domestically, the favorite aperitif for middle class French women. Now production languishes below one million litres.

But you see, I have a penchant for sidelined and forgotten genres of fermented grape juice. Fashion is a circle. When something becomes so untrendy that its name cannot be mentioned in polite conversation without guffaws of laughter, then it has become the epitome of cool, like ripped jeans, cassette tapes and the boys’ name “Neal”. Ipso facto, Vins Doux Naturels is ice cold. Expect a sommelier stampede down to the Agly Valley any moment now.

And you need to start that stampede soon because one day it will be impossible to find mature VdN like the ones I am about to describe. The industry has withered dramatically in recent years, the nub dominated by co-operatives churning out commercial fodder for tourists who want a memento to gather dust in their drinks cabinet. Famous names that once produced immortal wines during the halcyon postwar period have disappeared or fallen into disrepair. Of course, there remains the excellent Mas Amiel, probably, the most high profile of producers, although their Maury production focuses more on recent vintages. To really discover the joy of VdN, you need to go back in time.

Philippe Gayral pictured in June this year at the London tasting.

Speaking of which, back in 2013 I received an invitation from Farr Vintners requesting my palate at a Vins Doux Naturels tasting tutored by one Philippe Gayral. I had never heard of him. Did I really want to give up my morning, tasting a wine that nobody cared about? Then again, I fancied dishing out desultory scores. Why not flex the 100-point system a bit? Could be a laugh...

That inaugural tasting was an epiphany. These time-buckling wines were absolutely delicious, occasionally profound in terms of complexity and nectar to the senses. How could I have been so naive, so wrong? Why were these wines not flying off shelves and why did nobody write about them? That was soon rectified with a series of pieces that I continue here on Vinous. I will keep expounding the virtues of these wines until my annual Vins Doux Naturels report attracts more traffic than Bordeaux en primeur (and the way en primeur is going, never say never...)

Remind Me, What Are Vins Doux Naturels?

Imagine a slightly timeworn estate of disheveled grandeur in let’s say, the Agly Valley in Roussillon, that has been passed from one generation to another. Down in the cellars under enormous ancient oak beams there is a team of laborers, country men with calloused hands and roll-up cigarettes in mouths, fathers and sons working amongst old wooden vats where through evaporation, angels take their share each year. The fortified wine might be transferred into small vessels unless topped up by another vintage (although only by 15% and once in its lifetime) and, perhaps, they end up in glass bonbonnes, baking under the sun. Over decades each wine will take its own course, some remaining rich and viscous like a Tawny Port, others drier and oxidative in style, not unlike Verdelho Madeira. It just depends on the amount of oxygen ingress over a long period of time.

An evocative photograph taken at the co-operative in Maury, the exact date unknown - it probably offers a better idea of what this article is about than my verbiage. This is almost certainly the co-operative that is the source for the 1959 Maury to be released under Gayral’s L’Archiviste label.