Miracle in the Languedoc
Basile Guibert, part of the second generation at Mas de Daumas Gassac, shares the history of the iconic Languedoc winery and its continuing evolution with CHEK WONG
WHILE WAITING FOR Mas de Daumas Gassac winemaker Basile Guibert to arrive, my phone beeps as a message comes in. “Should I bring a wine?” he asks. It’s unnecessary, I reply, since a luncheon the previous fortnight (with several high-profile sommeliers) had already provided an illuminating introduction to the wines of Daumas Gassac, billed variously as Lafite of the Languedoc or Grand Cru of the Midi.
It was Basile’s parents Aimé and Véronique Guibert who established Daumas Gassac, born in 1970 after they purchased a dilapidated mas (or farmhouse) in the Gassac valley in southern France. The original owners were from the Daumas family, a trio of siblings who never married and were getting on in years. Knowing that the transition would be difficult for them, Aimé and Véronique helped them with the construction of a new home in the nearby village of Aniane. Building took several years, during which the siblings were invited to stay on in the farmhouse. Basile expounds on this decision: “This philosophy of being generous, of being fair, and being kind to the poor or little ones, that’s the spirit in our family. It may sound very weird today, because it seems outdated, but that is how we see life.”
Were it not for the intervention by their geologist friend Henri Enjalbert, Aimé and Véronique may never have planted vines at all. Aimé, a glove maker from Paris, and his ethnologist wife were realising a long-held dream to live in the countryside, but had no concrete plans for the farmhouse and forest that were now theirs. Enjalbert however discovered that the soil upon which their new purchase lay had potential for the creation of a great wine. He tried to dampen Aimé and Véronique’s enthusiasm by warning them that the process would take hundreds of years, but the fire had been lit and there was no turning back.
To appreciate the boldness of this decision, it should be remembered that Languedoc in the 1970s was known as a region for bulk wine production. To make a fine, age-worthy wine here was unheard of, and local winemakers, merchants and restaurants had no qualms telling the couple as much. Basile recounts: “My parents were not from the wine world, so they did not have the weight or history of being the son or daughter of a winegrower. There was no limit, only freedom.”
Aimé had the deck stacked against him, but he had a few other aces to play. Through their friend Denis Boubals, a professor of viticulture at the University of Montpellier, Aimé obtained plant cuttings from several leading estates of Bordeaux. Winemaking
from Italy, Spain, Georgia and Israel. The initial formula was set by Aimé and Véronique, but there have been small tweaks along the way.
Basile becomes animated when he talks about the winery’s continuing exploration of and search for quality. “This is the spirit of Daumas Gassac. It’s not really for winemaking sometimes; it’s more for the craziness of it.”
He follows two principles when it comes to the vinification process — firstly, that every year is different so you cannot apply what you did last year; secondly, not to over-extract. “Don’t over-macerate, don’t put too much new oak. You want to have some fruit and some power. You don’t want power, power and power.”
The wine world has changed greatly since the founding of Daumas Gassac. “In the 1970s, money was not the king,” says Basile. “Values such as socialism, communism, being right-wing or democratic, being idealistic, anarchistic… values, not how much you make, were driving people. This allowed us to try to do something great.”
Basile is now steering sales in Asia for Daumas Gassac, one of the few Languedoc wineries to have a presence here. He has had young winemakers come up to tell him how the success of Daumas Gassac inspired them.
The second-generation leader of Daumas Gassac is world-savvy and appreciates people clamouring for its wines. But Basile occasionally longs for the garrigue-scented vineyards of home. “I wish I could stay in the vineyards all year long, and in the cellar. Sometimes I lose my farmer side. I think that’s my dream, [to be] very successful in Asia, have four, five people to look after it, then go back to the cellar.”