The Languedoc is one of the world’s most important yet under-appreciated wine region, a statement that might require some explanation. The region comprises the western half of France’s Mediterranean coast, as well as its hilly (and sometimes even mountainous) hinterland. At 500,000 acres, the Languedoc is among the largest wine regions in terms of area planted (in comparison, all of California has about 600,000 acres). And with roughly 320 million gallons of wine produced annually, its output equals or exceeds production of entire countries like Australia, Chile, and Argentina.

More importantly, the Languedoc is responsible for most of the modestly priced French wines on the market. While Burgundy, Bordeaux, and Champagne capture the imagination of connoisseurs, chances are that the under-$15 bottle with that special “je ne sais quoi” character you picked up while racing to a friend’s dinner party came from the Languedoc. The wine is well-made and well-priced (or, as the French say, “bon rapport qualité-prix”), which is what this region is best known for.

But there is another side to the Languedoc—it’s driven by originality and innovation, exceptional terroir and talent, resulting in wines of exemplary quality. Fortunately, for savvy collectors looking to add both breadth and depth to their cellars, most of these are available at very attractive prices.

The Lay of the Land

Anyone who visits this part of France will understand the Languedoc’s visceral appeal. It is among the country’s sunniest and warmest regions, but its heat is tempered by frequent breezes from the sea and mountains. Patches of vines adorn gentle hills that are interspersed with forest. Dramatic mountain gorges funnel the omnipresent perfume of garrigue, resinous wild herbs like thyme, rosemary, savory, sage, and lavender that seem to grow everywhere.

The landscape is adorned with the remains of ancient civilizations, like Roman roads, centuries-old churches, and monasteries. On the hilltops, stone fortresses and medieval structures built by idealists who challenged Church corruption lie in scenic ruin. In the southwest, the Canal du Midi, a 17th century marvel of engineering that is still in use, connects Toulouse to the Mediterranean Sea. It winds through unassuming country hamlets and picturesque seaside towns developed centuries ago as the point of contact between what became France and the Mediterranean world.

This gave birth to France’s wine industry, which began in the 6th century BCE when Phocean Greeks, grapevines in hand, settled in what became Marseille. They later went to the Languedoc, where evidence of commercial wine production was found a century later. But it was the Romans in the 2nd century BCE who had the most influence. They expanded vineyards, organized wine production, and exported it to Rome—trade that is memorialized by a floor mosaic showing a connection between Ostia (ancient Rome’s main port) and Narbonne (Rome’s administrative capital in France). 

Roman Roots

Rome’s later travails affected the Languedoc, resulting in an extended period of dormancy. By the late 13th century, a proto-renaissance had reinvigorated European scientific research and compelled Montepellier-based physician and aspiring alchemist Arnaud de Villeneuve to codify the process of mutage (stabilizing sweet wines through alcoholic fortification), creating what are known as vins doux naturels.

The oldest known description of deliberate sparkling wine production, found in the Abbey of St-Hillaire in Limoux, dates back to 1531. Local lore claims that Dom Perignon himself learned about the methode he’s famous for whilst crashing at the monastery. At about the same time, the rosé wines of Cabrières, which is now recognized as an appellation in the region, were reputed to be Louis XIV’s favorite.

Unfortunately, being a royal favorite didn’t guarantee future success, especially following the French Revolution. The boom and bust cycles that followed a transforming society didn’t make things easy, and phylloxera hit the region early and especially hard. When a solution was found and replanting began, pent up demand for wine encouraged producers to favor high-yielding, rather than high-quality, varieties.

From Plonk to Prestige

For much of the 20th century, the region’s mild Mediterranean climate and coastal plains were well-suited to the sort of mass wine production necessary to slake the thirst of working-class Frenchmen. Fifty years ago, per capita consumption in France was 100 liters per year; in comparison, U.S. wine consumption peaked at less than 10 liters. Most wine was made by cooperatives, and members were paid by the weight of the grapes they delivered rather than their quality. At best, this was a recipe for mediocrity.

The logic of mass production started changing in the 1980s. Domestic wine consumption fell, and more affluent consumers demanded better wine than the vin ordinaire their parents quaffed. While the Languedoc always had a few quality-minded producers, they received little attention until the Guibert family arrived on the scene in the 1970s. Seeking a holiday home in the south of France, they purchased an isolated property in the beautiful Gassac Valley, close to the Cévennes mountain range. A famous geologist friend specializing in vineyards examined the soils and determined them ideal for high quality wine production. 

They planted a wide range of vines, including local Mediterranean varieties, but also non-local Cabernet Sauvignon because of the family’s love of Bordeaux. In 1978, with the help of famed enologist Emile Peynaud, they released their first wine—Mas de Daumas Gassac. Three vintages later, the wine was recognized by critics as a grand cru in the making, with one French magazine likening it to Bordeaux’s famed Château Lafite. While some considered the success a one-off, others saw opportunity, particularly in the steeper, more remote vineyards of the region, where mechanization had little place. Conveniently, land and vineyard prices were low, especially compared to more esteemed parts of France, and a wave of winemakers with more talent than money poured into the region.

Artistic Freedom Over Appellations

There was another reason for their interest—freedom. Unburdened by appellation rules (which didn’t yet exist because of the region’s supposedly poor quality), vintners could do as they wished without fearing demotion in status. Moreover, because most of the Languedoc’s wines didn’t command high prices, the financial risks of not following the rules were lower. The first vintage of Mas de Daumas Gassac, for example, was a blend of mostly Cabernet Sauvignon with Tannat and Malbec, none of them historic to the region. It was given the lowly classification “vin de table.” Once it earned critical acclaim, it was able to earn a price that exceeded most appellation wines in the region.

Legislation caught up the following year, and from 1979 to the present the wine has been classified “vin de pays” (now IGP, Indication Géographique Protégée), somewhere in the middle of the hierarchy of French wine classification. Some winemakers followed suit, while others strove to demonstrate the potential that could emerge from their own sub-appellations. These were based upon local, Mediterranean grape varieties such as Grenache, Carignan, or Cinsault that long existed in their areas, or highly regarded varieties like Syrah and Mourvèdre. 

Quality has soared throughout the Languedoc over the past four-plus decades. In 1980, the region had only one appellation d’origine contrôlée (AOC) zone for still, dry red wine (Fitou). By the end of the decade, there were a dozen, and today there are over 30. But, as Mas de Daumas Gassac demonstrated, there is also fame to be found at the margins.

With the Languedoc’s diversity of soil types, microclimates, and over 30 grape varieties, there are dozens, maybe even hundreds, of producers that deserve attention. In next week’s installment, we’ll focus on appellations in the eastern half of the region with wines that have demonstrated longevity, as well as wines and producers that would be worthy additions to any cellar.