About us
After a career in IT, I became a winemaker in 2008, in the northern Beaujolais region, where Gamay reigns supreme. As a good "bobo" returning to the land, I quickly decided to convert my vines to organic methods, and by 2011, I was producing natural wines. Although I'm gradually getting the hang of it, there's one thing I can't get used to, and that's the phytosanitary treatments, which have to be repeated after every rainfall, at the risk of seeing my harvest devoured by pathogens.
One spring day in 2013, as I was talking to a winemaker friend about the drudgery that is treatments for me, he replied: " if you're tired of sulfating, just plant hybrids. "Before adding "but I warn you, it makes for some pretty lousy wines." His conclusion wasn't exactly engaging, but my friend had piqued my curiosity, and I immediately set out to find out more about these mysterious "hybrid vines" I'd never heard of.
I soon learn that they are so named because they are the fruit of hybridization between American and French vines. The word "hybridization", which may sound suspicious, actually refers to a very simple operation, which involves taking pollen from one vine variety and depositing it on the flower of another, then sowing the seeds resulting from this directed fertilization, before patiently observing the qualities and defects of the vines that will emerge from the ground, to retain only those individuals judged to be the best.
Why this hybridization? The main vine diseases - downy mildew, black rot and powdery mildew - are of American origin, and were all accidentally introduced into Europe in the 19th century. Unlike its European cousin, the American grapevine, through its long association with these pathogens, has succeeded in developing natural defense mechanisms against them. The aim of hybridization is to combine the natural pathogen resistance of the American parent with the traditional taste of the European vine. This objective was tirelessly pursued for almost a century, from the introduction of American diseases in Europe until the late 1950s, by successive generations of "hybridizers" who created countless hybrid vine varieties.
I was soon surprised to discover that the first nationwide wine census, carried out in 1958, recorded 400,000 hectares of hybrid vines in cultivation, a third of the total vineyard area at the time! If the wines produced from these vines were so mediocre, how could our forefathers have cultivated such a vast area? Even more surprisingly, how could such a large area have disappeared in just sixty years? In 2010, only 10,000 of the 400,000 hectares of hybrid vines recorded in 58 remained. I'll soon understand that hybrid vines were the victims of a veritable administrative relentlessness, aimed at combating the repeated crises of overproduction that French viticulture went through from the 50s onwards.
I end up tasting wines made from these varieties. Some good! And some not so good! In any case, they're all far from undrinkable, contrary to the common misconception that their disappearance is exclusively due to their poor taste. In 2016, after visiting a handful of winegrowers cultivating these varieties, I decided to take the plunge and plant my first resistant vines.
I'll soon be witnessing a kind of miracle, that of a vine that blooms on its own, without the slightest treatment! Goodbye to the smell of sulfur, which I hate above all else and which stinks up my clothes for days!
Other plots were to follow; to date, I'm experimenting with around forty different varieties, from a few vines to a few hundred per variety, in a small vineyard of around two hectares.
If you're curious to taste the wines of these grape varieties, don't hesitate to visit my online store. And if you'd like to discover my vineyard and talk to me about resistant vines, contact me - I'd be delighted to welcome you!
Lilian Bauchet
