The Fruits of the Valley
Montrichard, France
April 20, 2000
After a few days descending the depths of royal exuberance, we decided to come up for air. Today we took a breath, and a break, from palaces and fortresses. Instead, we surveyed the surrounding fields, and sampled their fruits.
This is beautiful country…soft, gentle, and rolling. It is watered and drained by the longest river in France, which ambles languidly toward the Atlantic, like a western gunslinger thru saloon doors.
On either side, orchards of fruit, fields of vegetables, and vales of flowers separate and surround towns of charming aspect, irresistible architecture, and delightful people. Vines roll leisurely over the scene, bearing the enticing prospect of light Sancerre and crisp Pouilly-Fumé.
Our hotel is among the newer châteaux in this historic valley. Only 102 years old, it was built by its original owner to be his second home. The Germans inhabited the building when they occupied France, after which American liberators cooled their heels in its comfortable rooms and spacious parks.
The nearby town of Onzain is cute, but tiny, serving as a nice stop on the short trip between Blois and Amboise. The main attraction is across the Loire, and casts its reflection onto the river.
Le Château de Chaumont is where Diane de Poitiers took up residence after Catherine de Medici booted her from Chenonceau. We’ve noticed this (relatively) small medieval palace each day as we’ve gone to and from the hotel. Thru yesterday, our schedule has been too full to permit a visit. Today, we kept the calendar open, but wanted spend our time beyond castle walls.
We made our way south, past Chaumont, toward the town and wines of Montrichard. On the short trip, we passed what seemed to be endless fields of colza en français, known otherwise as rapeseed flowers. Their black seeds provide canola, but their bright yellow flowers offered reason to stop, and to absorb.
It was incredible, and beautiful. We’d never seen anything like this golden quilt. I felt as if at any moment the Good Witch Glenda would make it snow. For ten minutes we wandered among the flowers, reveling in our fortune to have found such a place. Then, taking nothing for granted, we re-started the trusty Renault, and drove on.
We ended up at bit east of where we’d intended, and stumbled on the hamlet of Fougères-sur-Bièvre. And wouldn’t you know? There, on the banks of the tiny Bièvre, even this little village had a small château! Because it looked appealing and seemed manageable, we decided to stop in. I’m glad we did.
Beside Le Château de Fougères-sur-Bièvre, the castle at Chaumont no longer seemed small. Chaumont could be a guest house at Chambord. This could be the tool shed. Only the square keep is from the original 11th century structure. The rest is “new”, having been rebuilt in the 15th century. But with its defensive moat, artillery openings, and parapet walks, it still feels medieval.
We were feeling hungry, so after a walk-thru of the castle and a brief prayer in the chapel, we found a place to eat. It was perfect. A small restaurant, run by a middle-aged couple who have probably been here all their lives. We had some trouble communicating, since our French is not great. Fortunately, our proprietors knew how to smile in English.
The ambience was delightful and food hit the spot. Now we needed to wash it down. We continued south, into the vineyards. Amid them, just downstream from Chenonceau, is the town of Montrichard. Like the château upstream, the city is situated on the Cher, across which it is accessible by a lovely 15th century stone arch bridge.
In the town, we popped briefly into the Église Nanteuil and the Église Sainte-Croix. We walked beneath the ruins of what was the Château de Montrichard, an 11th century castle that was dismantled 500 years later, and that now offers elevated views of the town and valley below.
But our real objective was not to be above the earth, but within it. Just outside Montrichard is Caves Monmousseau. After appreciating the marvelous view of this gorgeous valley, we descended into a labyrinth of tunnels, medieval quarries which were for centuries the source of the tuffeau stone that was so prominent for building in the area.
As they extracted the stone, workers left indelible shapes in the cave walls. These now form the frames for displays of art, and the basis of exhibits chronicling the history of château construction in this royal region. The caves are plentiful, and extensive. Since the late 19th century, they have been used not to supply stone, but to store wine.
Most abundant in these caves are those that, especially in France, must not be referred to as “Champagne.” We were told that after Alcide Monmousseau took control of the abandoned quarries in 1886, his nephew noticed similarities between the terroirs of Champagne and Touraine, inspiring him to produce sparkling wines in the “Méthode Traditionnelle”.
As we sampled the result, our host described the method, the surrounding soil that enables it, and the diversity of Chenin, Cabernet Franc, and Cot grapes that produces it. We were sold. After enjoying our glasses, and being taken by the wine and the moment, we bought a couple bottles – one for our hotel in Onzain, another for our house in Kennesaw.
I am sure we will make intended use of the first bottle. I am less confident that the second will live long enough to fulfill its intended mission.
But, as souvenirs, we could imagine no finer fruits to pluck from this fertile valley.
JD
