Ever wondered what a trip on the wine route looks like? Colleagues and I recently wound our way westward through the Loire Valley visiting with growers from all the appellations we import. Each stop provided a glimpse into the quintessential vigneron lifestyle and revealed the ways in which growers are preserving the heritage of their pocket of the Loire. The French certainly have a knack for l’accueil—good old-fashioned hospitality—and we were regaled with the best of it: homemade cooking with local ingredients and wines to match, vintages young and old, and countless stories to accompany every pairing. Needless to say, a week on the road is full of simple pleasures, and we soaked them all up.
     Starting in Sancerre, Simon Chotard and his brilliant wife, Juliette, hosted us for a windy tailgate tasting. Following a rainy morning, the late afternoon clouds gathered to release a light hailstorm, only to break again for the sun to shine through. How spectacular to be in the vines that bore the fruit for the wines on which we sipped! Simon, the third generation at Domaine Chotard, says he feels a sense of accomplishment when arriving at his tasting room—the walls of which are decorated with faded photos of family members and harvesters of vintages past—to find a bowl of shelled nuts and scattered glasses from the night before; a sign, he says, his dad enjoyed an apéro with friends, proudly sampling the wines he helped prepare his son to one day make.    
     In Pouilly-Fumé, Régis Minet and his stepdaughter, Lucia, who is heading into her fourth solo vintage, took us for a leisurely walk in the vineyards. We were there just in time to see Sauvignon Blanc bunches formed after flowering. In Lucia’s garden, which runs adjacent to some of her parcels, the first strawberries of the season were plump for picking, tasting truer and more vivid than any you’d find at your grocery. Lucky as we were to sample these berries, we’d have to return in July if we wanted a taste of ripe Reine Claude plums right off the trees.
     The following day, we delighted in an oyster apéritif and vineyard lunch with Joseph de Maistre of Domaine de Reuilly, with a table full of homemade quiches and various chèvres, all washed down with Reuilly’s blushing Pinot Gris and flinty Sauvignon Blanc. Back at the winery, Joseph was trailed by his two young daughters. The oldest, five-year-old Valentine, was climbing atop barrels and learning to use the wine thief to sample us on a blanc cuvée named after her.    
     At our next stop we met the mixed-generation duo of an unhurried Pierre Ragon and his gracious counterpart and mentee, Augustin Ponroy. Together, they are making Quincy—one of the first established wine appellations in all of France—with a deeply traditional take, modeled after half a century of experience by Ragon. He’s always picked later than his neighbors, used only native yeasts, and ages his wines slowly and patiently.Though the two men aren’t related, their bond, and the deep respect Augustin holds for Pierre, is palpable. We learned that Augustin’s great-grandfather is the doctor who delivered Pierre the day he was born.
     In Touraine, France Breton and Louis Germain initiated us into la vie ligérienne—a concept that refers specifically to the idyllic and relaxed lifestyle of the lazy Loire River Valley. We got a taste of this good life on a boat tour with Louis, France, and friends we picked up along the way, drifting our way downriver with platters of fruit, cheese, charcuterie, and some old and new vintages of Chinon, Saumur, Grolleau, and bubbly Chenin Blanc. Both Louis and France have recently taken over from their pioneering parents at their family estates, and the future of their naturally made wines is bright.    
     At domaine Bernard Baudry in Chinon we arrived to see a few pallets prepped for Berkeley, waiting for pick-up. On days like this, it’s all hands on deck, and three generations of Baudrys were there to help—Grandfather Bernard, his son Matthieu, and grandson Maxime. Bernard and Maxime stole off to stack and level barrels in their cavernous, tuffeau cellar; it’s an exacting skill that requires experience and patience to execute. In the tasting room, a gallery wall showcases framed antique menus from the nineteenth and early twentieth century celebrations like marriages and first communions, listing dishes like bouchées à la reine, carpes au gratin, pintades au cresson, and langouste à la parisienne, all paired with Chinon, of course.    
     We continued on to Vouvray for a visit with the ebullient Céline Champalou. Céline’s parents were just a young couple back in the ’70s when they started their domaine, where Céline continues to make the raciest, chalkiest Vouvray with a sensual burst of summer peach and gardenia. Her vineyards were among the most fossil-laden we visited, and Céline recalled endless hours of her youth spent treasure-hunting these ancient relics.    
     By the end of our trip, I can’t say we were ready to go home. Each of us dreamt of returning with our families to spend more time with our hosts. What can we make of our week on the road visiting small family domaines? Perhaps that transmission, the passing down of philosophies and savoir-faire from one generation to the next, happens over a lifetime of immersion, across different seasons, presenting itself in any number of day-to-day gestures. Until we find our way back to the Loire, at least we have the wines to remind us of a week à la ligérienne.