A rainy day in the Loire Valley turns into a sparkling adventure of wine, wit, and wonderfully questionable tasting expertise.
Last Updated on 4th March 2026 by Yann Bille
The Scottish chef put his nose deep into the wine glass, inhaled with great seriousness, took a sip, gargled the golden liquid with theatrical enthusiasm, and spat it neatly into a vase waiting at the small tasting counter. He looked at us and declared:
“Brawble-dee braaahd, the skerrit o’ the hurrd drammles aye noo.”
Pam and I nodded solemnly, of course, and followed his lead, sniffing, swirling, and attempting the same ritual. Only one small difference: we did not spit it out. It was far too good to waste.
Our ever-charming Loire Kitchen host, Aaron, had brought us to the 76th Salon des Vins de Thouars — an annual celebration of regional wine set in the beautiful vaulted cellars of Château des Ducs de la Trémoille. Outside, rain poured relentlessly; inside, it was all bottled sunshine.
At the entrance, we paid €4 for an engraved tasting glass, our ticket into this wonderfully French world of wine. It was a first for us: the Scottish chef, Pam from upstate New York, and me.
Aaron, clearly on a gentle mission to educate, guided us through the lively corridors to a small avant-garde Catalan winemaker known for experimental wines. We were each poured an amber wine, accompanied by a passionate explanation about history, soil and technique.
The two chefs were fascinated. Pam and I exchanged a polite glance after the first sip and silently agreed: interesting, but not quite for us.
The second wine, a glowing golden white, was absolutely delightful. The third I declined; red wine tends to keep me awake at night. The winemaker smiled and gently insisted that only white wine could possibly do that. I chose not to argue.
A few explanations later, Pam had reached her limit of theory. She winked:
“Let’s go have some fun. Let’s find the bubbles.”
And off we went.
In Search of Bubbles
Like two slightly overexcited teenagers, we navigated the now buzzing crowd. The atmosphere had warmed considerably, helped, no doubt, by generous tasting pours. One château (Homard) had sent out a cheerful brigade of older gentlemen in red capes and straw hats decorated with plastic lobsters, marketing, Loire-style. Here and there, impressively large dogs strolled calmly through the crowd.
We blended in perfectly. The audience was largely middle-aged, with a few younger helpers ferrying purchased bottles to waiting cars.
Our first stop: an Alsace producer pouring a lovely Crémant d’Alsace, fresh, lively, and elegant. Then on to some butch Crémant de Bourgogne, and fresh tasting Crémant de Loire.
The winemakers watched us hopefully as we tasted. We responded with enthusiasm… and perhaps a little too much honesty. A bit too sharp, a bit too soft, our opinions flowed as freely as the wine, followed by heartfelt “merci” for spoiling us with their amazing liquids.
The Discovery
Then we arrived at a winemaker from Vouvray.
The Crémant was exceptional — remarkably close to Champagne, yet priced at just €8 a bottle.
“How many shall I take?”
Pam encouraged me to think big (and make full use of the car). So I did.
Twelve boxes.
The bottles themselves aimed for a youthful, modern design, perhaps not entirely convincing, but the contents were excellent. The winemaker summoned a teenager with a two-wheeled hand cart, and off our tower of boxes rolled toward the exit.
The Experts Weigh In
Aaron eventually found us, mildly surprised by our newfound confidence, no doubt inspired by the bubbles. He suggested visiting a friend who also makes a wonderful Crémant: winemaker Jean-Marc Trahan of Domaine des Trahan, known for his innovative fermentation techniques.
His sparkling wines were complex, refined, and full of character — perhaps a touch too sophisticated for our newly enthusiastic but still untrained palates. We were saved by the Scottish chef who analysed the wine by saying something like “Brrramble tae the broo, skerrit o’ ma drundle, aye!” We nodded in full agreement, complimented generously and moved on.
Just nearby, we spotted the stand of the Denis family — three brothers whose charm did not go unnoticed by Pam and I. For purely professional reasons, of course, we decided to taste their Crémant as well.
Whether it was the wine or their hot looks and warm welcome, we were convinced: more bottles were necessary.
Pam secured a box, carefully calculated to fit into her carry-on for the journey back to the US. At this point, Aaron gently steered us toward the exit. I suspect he thought food might be a good idea before things became too festive.
A Perfect Ending
We waited for him to bring the car just outside the impressively beautiful château, sheltering under a tree beside our growing tower of sparkling wine boxes, and agreed this had been a wonderfully authentic French experience.
Pam, however, decided to add one final touch.
Spotting a bald stocky gentleman also taking shelter, she tried out her French:
“Vous êtes mignon.”
He smiled, a little surprised, adjusted his non-existent hair with great care, and turned a dark shade of purple.
Pam, quite possibly, made his day.
Yann Bille is a business development and marketing consultant living in the Netherlands. He visits Loire Kitchen when his travels bring him to the Loire Valley, and has become a firm friend of the house.
The Salon des Vins de Thouars takes place each year on the last weekend of March. Read Aaron’s account of the same event — including a guide to the wines and producers of the region.
