Story and Photography by Bo Zaunders

 

 

The Loire Revisited

Sunlight from the valley outside streamed through the open doors of the vast limestone wine cellar, and  sparkled in the topaz-colored liquid set before me. The vintage was 1947, and the aroma suggested honey and apricots - a dazzling wine, lusciously sweet, yet wonderfully fresh. My host, Monsieur Gaston Huet, neatly attired in a gray suit, white shirt and a tie, looked pleased with my reaction. “The best wine I ever made,” he said.  At 78, he was not only a leading winemaker in Vouvray, but had been the town’s mayor for 42 years. As I set up my tripod for some photography, he told me of his struggles with the TGV (Train de Grande Vitesse), the new ultrafast train that was about to speed riders from nearby Tours to Paris in less than an hour. For ultimate dispatch the train company had planned an underground tunnel through Vouvray, where vibrations might damage precious grapes. This, of course, was intolerable to Huet and his wine-making friends. They had protested vehemently and, as a result, the rails were to be rerouted three miles south of all major vineyards and padded with rubber cushions.

My meeting with Huet took place over a decade ago. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect introduction to the Loire and its special charms - limestone caves, good wine, and generally, the triumph of French priorities. I was then photographing for a wine magazine, covering wine producers in Vouvray, Chinon and Burgueil.

Now, having landed at Charles-de-Gaulle in Paris, I ‘m about to take the TGV, the very train that once caused Huet so much concern, and revisit the Loire Valley. First stop: Le Mans.

 

Monday

I was gazing at some real antiques: a steam-driven car from 1885, a 1899 Bollée, and an electrically powered Krieger from 1908. Arriving at the Musee automobile de la Sarthe, Le Mans’ automobile museum, I was about to wind my way through a century  of fabulous vehicles - 150 to be precise, including 12 authentic winners of the 24-hour du Mans race.  The museum, which since 1991 has been housed in a sleek modern-looking building, prides itself on bringing educational benefits to visiting sightseers by means of an art gallery, working models, and videos depicting the various stages of automotive developments. Just wandering through the exhibition halls on a guided tour proved quite satisfactory, however, and altogether educational. The section of racing cars, many of which had won the Le Mans 24 -hour race, struck me as particularly interesting. But it was now 4PM , and time to check in at the Concorde Hotel.

A few hours later, I entered the hotel’s restaurant, l’Amphitryon, jet-lagged and not especially hungry. Rillettes, the traditional potted pork spread of the region, arrived immediately, along with crusty bread. Smoked halibut followed, then lobster and “girolles,” dried mushrooms in a beef broth. Next came scallops and “trompettes de la mort,” mushrooms in a butter sauce. Little by little, my spirits rose. This was delicious! Of course, this is where culinary France got started - where the kings, in early medieval days, established themselves in grand style before choosing Paris as their capital. Muscadet, the light dry white wine from Nantes in western Loire, complemented the meal perfectly, and, for the finishing touch, the L’Amphtiryon presented Creme Brulée with hazelnut risotto and prune jam.

Tomorrow morning , I will tour the old historic district of Le Mans, but right now there’s only one thing on my mind  - sleep.  

 

Tuesday

I had expected race cars, a medieval town, a great cathedral, but not a monument to Wilbur Wright. It stood just outside the old town and had, on top of it, the statue of a man with lifted arms. It was here in Le Mans, in 1908, on invitation by automobile pioneer Léon Bollée, that the famous aviator had taken his flier for  a spin and publicly demonstrated to the French, and to the world at large, that man could fly.

Behind the monument rose the old historic district, dominated by the bulk of the St-Julien’s Cathedral, complete with flying buttresses. These appear to have been rather an afterthought, however, added in the 15th century, some four hundred years after construction of the cathedral had begun.

Visiting what has been described as one of the nicest religious building in France, I admired its 12th century stained glass windows, the 47 musical cherubs painted in the Chapel of the Virgin Mary, and the magnificent Renaissance organ, tucked into the arm of the South transept. Finally, after climbing a narrow, circular staircase, I found myself amidst buttresses and gargoyles on the roof of the cathedral, with a bird’s-eye view of my next destination: the old town.

The perfect location for a film director looking for an historic setting, it was here in Old Le Mans that “Cyrano de Bergerac,” starring Gérard Depadeiu, was filmed back in 1990. Enclosed by almost a mile of Roman walls, it is a network of medieval cobbled streets, lined with half-timbered houses, Renaissance mansions, and 17th century townhouses.

This was quite a lot of history for one morning, and more awaited in the afternoon when I visited Chateau du Lude, near the small town of La Fleche some 25 miles southwest of Le Mans. Here, since each of the four facades was built in different style, a walk around the castle amounted to a quick easy-to-take lesson in French architecture through the ages - from 16th century Italian Renaissance to the neo-gothic style of the 1800s.

Like many of the chateaux in the Loire Valley, de Lude originated as a medieval fortress but, unlike most, is still a lived-in castle. Serendipitously, I met one of its residents, Countess Barbara de Nicolay. She was out gardening, but graciously put away her pruning sheers in order to show me what the brochure called “interior dispositions”: the various salons, the gallery, the library and dining room, and, finally, the large medieval kitchen. A passionate gardener, she grew particularly animated when telling me about the “Gardeners’ Weekend,” an event held at du Lude every year on the first weekend in June.

Staying overnight in La Fleche, I went to its most highly recommended restaurant, Le Moulin des Quatre Saisons, for some much-needed sustenance. I recall a very satisfying Saumon cuit sa l’inilatéral Broullade D’oeuf a la l’huile de nois, along with  a bottle of Cote aux Duloir “Cuvee Janus.” I read somewhere that the Loire and its tributaries have given fish lovers much pleasure over the centuries, and I’m beginning to see why.

 

Wednesday

Another day of intense sightseeing. I am now at the Royal Abbey of Fontevraud, gazing at the tomb effigy of Elinor of Aquatine. Lying on her back with a book in her hands and eyes closed,  she looks as if she just fell asleep while reading in bed. I learn that, in fact,  it is now exactly 800 years since this remarkable woman  shut her eyes for the the last time. Around that time, in the 12th century, the Abbey of Fontevraud was a key spiritual center in Europe, whose order of nuns took care of lepers and ruled some 150 other religious establishments. It was here Henry Plantagenet stayed after he had married Elinor and before heading for England to be crowned King Henry II.

Founded in 1101, the Abbey is the largest surviving complex of monastic buildings in Europe. Between 1804 and 1963, it was converted into a state prison, and became a museum in 1975. Walking around the complex, much of which is parkland, I instinctively aimed my camera at one particular structure: a cone-shaped, rather Byzantine-looking tower with a “fish-scale” stone roof and a multitude of chimneys. True to what you would expect in this small corner of the world, where food has mattered greatly for a long time, it proved to be a Romanesque kitchen/smokehouse.

Now back to limestone caves. Excellent as wine cellars, they have also, for thousands of years, served as human dwellings and, recently, some of them have been converted into restaurants, and art galleries. The restaurants, of which there are about half a dozen, are called troglodytes, and for lunch I went to one of them, Le Pieds Bleus in La Cage aux Moines.

The cave itself, 4.5 miles long and dug in the 12th century, has for the past hundred years been used for the cultivation of mushrooms which, not surprisingly,  formed a major part of the restaurant’s menu. As the local bread, “fourée,” was oven-baked in front of the guests, I gorged on plurotes (oyster mushrooms), Shi Take, Le pied Bleu, and the Assiettte de la Cave, which consisted of Champignon de Paris, stuffed with delicious pork paté. My visit ended with a short walk through the dark, damp and cool mushroom-growing interior, during which I recall being told that, Shi Take, which comes from Asia, is cultivated on logs of fire instead of the normal breeding ground of manure and straw.

Next stop: the National Equitation School in Saumur, home of the elite cavalry squad known as Cadre Noir, France’s answer to Vienna’s famous riding school. A guide took me past rows of impeccably kept stables, through the special place where horses are shod,  and to an indoor arena in which instructors in Cadre Noir’s black uniforms were doing their daily work. This consisted of, among other things, practicing “airs above the ground,” an equestrian movement which originated in the Middle Ages, survived the Renaissance, and now is emblematic of the Cadre Noir’s riding style. Special shows are put on regularly, one of which combines equestrian art with classical music.

The sawdust had given me a thirst, so I was well primed for a tasting at Saumur’s  premier wine estate, Bouvet-Ladubay. Before sitting down, I explored some of its 8 kilometers of underground cellars in which, according  to a brochure, “the art of wine is suffused in osmosis with today’s art of living and with the contemporary arts.” Evidence of this came in form of fragmented antique columns and other artifacts  sculpted into the walls - a break from the monotony of bottles lined up by the thousands.

Founded in 1851, Bouvet-Ladubay became, by the turn of the century, the world’s largest producer of sparkling wine. Annually, it now produces 3 million bottles, 40%  of which is exported. As for the tasting, it went from the light white Saphire Tresor to the red Bouvet Rubis Excellence, the latter of which  was said to be absolutely delicious with straw- and raspberries.

A quiet dinner at Hostellerie Prieure - lobster ravioli with truffles and  a grilled perch - concluded my day in Saumur. The Prieure, where I stayed for the night, is an old manor turned comfortable hotel.

 

Thursday

It was time for yet another castle. This one, Chateau de Brissac, with its seven stories, and 204 rooms, has been nicknamed “The Giant of the Loire Valley,” and boasts of being taller than any other castle in France. The setting proved quite magnificent:  rolling park land with large cedar trees. Originally a medieval fortress, Brissac has been owned by the same family since 1502, and is now run  as a rather grand B&B, where, if money is no object, you can sleep in what was once the bedroom of King Louis XIII.

I was greeted in a most friendly and democratic manner by its present owner, a marquis whose father is the 13th  Duke of Brissac, and taken on a walking tour through his massive mansion. One word comes to mind: opulence. Ceilings painted with gold leaf, Gobelin and Flemish tapestries, four historic suites for guests to choose from, a 19th century theater, an ancient wine cellar, and a medieval kitchen even greater than the one at du Lude. A framed photograph of Sophia Loren indicated that the Italian film star has been one the guests. A Swedish telegram propped up on one of the tables came with a thank you note from Silvia, the Swedish queen. I understand that Roger Moore was here once,  and so was the British Queen Mother. She attended the ceremony when the marquis married an Italian ballet dancer and graciously signed the wedding picture. Certainly, as a B&B, Brissac stands alone.

Suffusing drinkables with art appears to be major trend. At the Cointreau Distillery, where I visited next, four huge walls had been dedicated to the history and mystique of its famous, square liqueur bottle. Here, inventive posters from the era of Toulouse Lautrec to those of modern times exhibited elegantly the changing trends of advertising from well over a century.

Style and elegance continued, first in the distillery, with its intricate array of gleaming copper stills, then in a little booklet with classic drink recipes, in which Cointreau featured prominently.

Driving north I arrived in Angers, a university town and the former capital of Anjou. After a late lunch at Le Buchon Angevin - a lively place, with walls lined with wine bottles, and crowded with what appeared to be happy regulars - I headed for Angers’ Castle, for a look at what is considered one of the most ambitious of all decorative enterprises of medieval Europe, the Apocalypse Tapestry. Now on display in  the deep, dark recesses of the ancient castle, this amazing piece of work, over a hundred meters long and depicting the battle between good and evil as described in the Book of Revelations, was made in the 14th century. Those were the terrifying days of   the Black Death,  and much of that horror has spilled into the tapestry, whose recurring motif is the monstrous seven-headed hydra.

Having returned to this century and to the bright outside, I did a little sightseeing and shopping in Angers before taking off for the nearby Chateau de Noireieux, the last stop on my journey. In Angers - like in Le Mans - there were a good number of old half-timbered houses, but a more bustling and citylike atmosphere.

Chateau de Noirieux is a 15th century manor house which has been turned into a  luxurious, elegant four-star hotel. Though richly endowed with antique furnishings, it exudes a contemporary air, with its tip-top tennis court, swimming pool, and jacuzzi. The outdoor terrace overlooks the Loire River, and the dining room is brightened by light colors and large windows. My room proved  quite grandiose, and the bathroom sparkled with the latest in gadgetry and stylishness. Run by a chef, Gérard Come and his wife Anja, Noirieux is above all a place for good eating.

This was my last dinner in Western Loire and ended, appropriately for this food-loving corner of the world, with a potpourri of seven desserts, one more delicious than the other. They were all small servings, but did add up. I recall a Parfait  a la Pistasche et  a la vanilla (Pistachio and vanilla cream cake), a chocolate mousse covered with chocolate icing,  a rich passion fruit concoction, and an orange souffle...

Such indulgence was a poignant reminder of my decade-ago meeting with Gaston Huet, winemaker and mayor of Vouvray, who as a young soldier during World War II was taken prisoner by German troops, and spent five long years in a German prison camp. To alleviate the tedium and to boost the morale among his fellow prisoners, he decided to arrange a wine fete. It took him several months of hard work, and ended up with speeches glorifying French wine and the serving of half a glass of wine to each one of the 2,000 or so prisoners. Still, the fete was an enormous success. Huet didn’t even remember exactly what he drank. “It was no more than a thimbleful, but it was the only wine we had had in five years, and it was glorious.”

 

 

 

© November 2010 LuxuryWeb Magazine. All rights reserved.

 

Issue:
January
2012