Then I tasted the local wine. And things definitely began to look up.
Loire-Atlantique, which borders the Atlantic Ocean in the far western part of France, is a region known for its shellfish and sea salt, among other things. But above all, it's known for Muscadet, an inexpensive white wine that's produced in astonishing quantities and shipped to virtually every bistro for hundreds of miles around, not to mention countries such as the United States.
Muscadet (pronounced MUSS'-kuh-day) lacks the pedigree of, say, Bordeaux or white Burgundy, and doesn't age as well. But even connoisseurs who would blanch at the thought of including Muscadet among the world's great wines tend to agree that there is absolutely nothing better to drink while eating shellfish - particularly oysters or mussels.
The first time I sampled Muscadet with half a dozen raw oysters on the half shell, I was hooked. It's a dry wine, tangy but soft, with a mineral undertaste - the perfect match for briny bivalves. And so here I was, a few years later, dragging my wife on a trip to the Muscadet heartland, as it were, and not knowing quite what to expect.
What we found was low-lying, river-and-marsh country that during our April visit was a vivid green. It didn't take us long to figure out that this is a serious agricultural region, with vineyards stretching away in every direction, broken here and there by clusters of houses and small patches of forest. Tractors plied the rows of grapevines, and big trucks rumbled along the narrow highways.
It was late afternoon when we pulled up to the Musee du Vignoble Nantaise, a museum that focuses on the history of winemaking amid the vineyards about 10 miles southeast of Nantes, the region's largest city. The museum's historical photos, antique grape presses and other displays seemed interesting enough, but the explanatory graphics and videos were exclusively in French, a language I find challenging even at the restaurant-menu level.
Thanks to an English-language take-away that an attendant gave us, though, I learned that Muscadet is made from the Melon de Bourgogne grape. (It's one of many wine-grape varieties in Europe that are little known in California). This particular strain endeared itself to local growers by being nearly the sole survivor, grapewise, of the bitter winter of 1709.
After we had strolled through the museum on our own, one of the attendants led us to small tasting area for a free sample of Muscadet. It was excellent, and when we were told that a bottle could be purchased for less than $7, we promptly bought one.
With the Muscadet region looking a little more promising to us, we headed to the Chateau de la Sebiniere, a stately old mansion only a stone's throw from the museum. And there we struck traveler's gold.
For two nights we stayed in a high-ceilinged, second-floor room that was the largest of the chateau's three guest bedrooms. The ancient wooden floor squeaked, but the bed was firm and there was plenty of hot water in the spacious bathroom, which had a roomy shower but no tub.
The chateau's charming owner, Anne Canneferina - who spoke good English - gave us solid restaurant and sightseeing advice, and served up first-rate breakfasts that included strong coffee with fresh orange juice, apple cake and croissants.
The next morning, we set off for Domaine de l'Ecu, a winery that I had arranged in advance to visit. Owner Guy Bossard is the only Muscadet producer to farm his vines biodynamically - a strict form of organic farming that makes use of buried cow horns and potions made from flowers, among other things, and is governed by the positions of the moon and certain planets.
It sounds a bit mystical, but Bossard wasn't overbearing about it when we met him. "It's working with the cosmos," he said simply.
"I can tell they're different. I can't tell you why they're different," Bossard said. "But the proof is in the wine."
They did vary somewhat, but all three were lip-smackingly good. One reason is that Bossard carefully hand-harvests his grapes, a practice followed by only one out of every five vintners in the region.
His wines cost a little more, as a result, although a typical bottle at the winery sells for only about $8. But Bossard's reputation for quality helps him stand out among the 1,000 or so producers of Muscadet, some of whom pump out tankersful of wine that can be dull and watery.
Bregeon's wine-tasting "room" consisted of a table and a couple of benches in a corner of one of his old winery buildings. He tasted wine after wine with me, slurping a mouthful noisily, the way many French wine connoisseurs seem to do, and afterward spitting it out on the cement floor in the direction of a drain.
One wine that neither of us spit out was his 1999 Muscadet, a remarkable elixir that is far more complex than most made from Melon de Bourgogne.
Bregeon harvests his grapes by hand, and, like Bossard and other top Muscadet producers, allows the resulting wine to age for months with spent yeast from the fermentation process still in it (the yeast is filtered out before bottling). This method, known as sur lie, gives Muscadet its unmistakable tang. A bottle of Bregeon's 2005 Muscadet sells at his winery for about $5.
My wife and I left Loire-Atlantique the following day, by which time I had not only learned a good deal about Muscadet - and tasted some outstanding examples - I had warmed to the no-nonsense towns and the seemingly endless vineyards. I had even come to like our odd-looking rental car, a four-door Renault that was stingy with gas and easy to maneuver.
It was a few days, though, before I found the opportunity to drink Muscadet with shellfish, in a little restaurant on France's coast. Looking back, I wouldn't say it was the finest wine I've ever had, or even the finest Muscadet. But at that moment, eating mussels dunked in a warm, creamy broth, and washing them down with sips of cool, flinty wine, it was impossible to imagine a better one.
IF YOU GO
Getting there: Loire-Atlantique lies south of Brittany in western France. Its principal city of Nantes can be reached by plane or high-speed TGV train from Paris.
If you want to visit wineries and taste wines in Loire-Atlantique, a rental car and a Michelin map that shows local highways and roads are essential. Cars can be rented from Hertz, Avis, National and other major companies at the Nantes train station or airport.
Vineyards: The vineyard country southeast of Nantes produces the region's best Muscadet. One of the prettiest towns in that neck of the woods is Clisson - which resembles an Italian hill town - and the Clisson tourism office has a brochure on 30 local wineries that includes a map showing how to find them. The telephone number of the tourism office is 011-02-40-54- 02-95; e-mail isot@clisson.com.
Most wineries advertise that they prefer visitors to call in advance. If you don't speak French, it's possible to have hotel staff, tourist offices and even other wineries call for you. However, a woman in the Clisson tourist office told us that at many times of year, visitors can show up unannounced at most wineries and simply ring the doorbell. If the owners can accommodate tasting, they'll let you know, and if they're too busy, you move on. Obviously, if you choose to visit wineries this way, a command of French would be invaluable.
The Musee du Vignoble Nantaise is in the town of Le Pallet, about 10 miles southeast of Nantes. The museum's hours are, um, very French. From June 15 to Sept. 15, it's open from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday. The rest of the year it's open from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday, with the exception of the weeks between Dec. 16 and Feb. 28, when it's closed. Admission is about $5.50.
Chateau de la Sebiniere is at the edge of the town of Le Pallet. The inn has a Web site - chateausebiniere.com - and owner Anne Canneferina can be reached by e-mail at: info@chateausebiniere.com. The chateau's telephone number is 011-02-40-80-49-25. Room rates run from about $110 to about $150, with breakfast for two people included.
Domaine de l'Ecu is in the village of Le Landreau, about five miles northwest of Le Pallet. The tasting room is open by appointment every day but Sunday, 9 a.m. to noon and 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. Contact the winery for more information: telephone 011-02-40-06-40-91; fax 011-02-40-06-46-79.
Andre Michel Bregeon welcomes visitors Monday through Saturday for tasting, but asks that they phone first to make an appointment. His winery and vineyards are in the village of Gorges, near Le Pallet.
Telephone 011-02-40-06-93-19; fax 011-02-40-06-95-91.
Gordon Smith is the Los Angeles bureau chief for Copley News Service.
