The following is an excerpt of an email that Richard sent to the Metro Mates during his recent trip to the Loire Valley. On this voyage, Richard revisited the legendary Domaine Huet property, owners of the Haut-Lieu vineyard amongst other sacred Chenin Blanc sites.
See that building? That’s part of Le Haut-Lieu — yes, that Haut-Lieu. The door on the left side of the building leads to what Gaston Huet used as an office, and it became a portal to my future. But stop me if you’ve heard this one… or find something more interesting to read...
In 1983, I knocked on that door and met the legend; the one and only muthafuckin’ Gaston Huet. I was on my first wine-focussed trip to France. Under the influence of having tasted Huet’s wines (bought in France and on drives south to Seattle, as they were not available in Western Canada at the time), I boldly declared that I had travelled 8,000 km to shake his hand.
Now, if I had used the word “legend” in person, M. Huet would have just kicked me in the Chenins and sent me packing. Instead, the most famous winegrower (who was also the mayor) of Vouvray invited me in and we sat for a chat. We then headed to the winery and proceeded to taste, the young me scrambling to follow the 73-year old Gaston up steep staircases carved into the stone of the cellars. I wish I could tell you more about what we tasted, as well as other aspects of this incredible visit, but I was in a magical kingdom and the wines cast a spell around me that has lasted a lifetime.
At the end of my visit, M. Huet escorted me to the door, having made sure that my arms were full of bottles. I drove down to the village of Vouvray and though I was very hungry, I could not bring myself to go into the local trucker cafe. As Al would say, I was "trippin’ balls” and in a state of psychological and emotional ecstasy. Please forgive me for the fact that I proceeded to light up a cigarette. At this point in history, smoking in France made you fit in, especially in a truckers cafe where you could share an unfiltered “papier maïs” Gitane cigarette with the wine swilling truck driver(!!!) sitting next to you. It was only much later that I thought of the quasi post-coital nature of this smoke.
What the fuck had just happened to me?!? Fuck Disneyland! Tell your Mom you want to go to Vouvray!
The fact that one of the most famous French wine personalities had so much time for some young idiot from Canada was amazing! But at this point in time, there were no “rockstar” winemakers in the way that we have them now. Most great winemakers were regarded as such by their peers and perhaps a relatively small number of dedicated wine geeks. People like M. Huet were simply trying to make wines of quality, integrity and that spoke of their origins. I’m not sure he was aware that his wines were capable of inspiring and moving people to levels of transformative emotion, as they did to me. His generosity, humility and kindness has cemented him in a special place in my heart.
Since Gaston’s passing in 2003, Domaine Huet has not been owned by the Huet family. Due to the disinterest of two of his three children, the estate was sold, and passed into the hands of the Hwang family. Much has been said about this transition, but Al can fill you in on his positive experiences with Sarah Hwang who now directs the estate. All I can add is that Sarah is crazy nice and nicely crazy. She and I spoke about her love of walking the vineyards and meditating in the Clos du Bourg. She is very mystical in her feelings for Vouvray, Chenin Blanc and the vineyards. She is often asked by her American friends if she feels “at home” in the cellars, to which she replies while pointing to the barrels, “I feel I’ve been invited into their home”. She clearly gets the domaine.
We spoke of the evocative power of great wines and I told her that when I smell and taste a Huet wine, I also become a believer in astral travel. Smelling the wine (even the corks) sends my brain in a flash to this place and that makes me very happy. What more could a person ask of a wine except this sorcery?
Be well, you bloody lovely and wonderful bunch of mates.
Love,
Richard
