Let me tell you a little story. A long, long, time ago (“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…” etc) I went on my first adult trip to the vineyards of France. And where did I go? Yes, Bergerac, or to be even more exact, I stayed not far the small town of Issigeac. Back then a lot of my fellow Brits knew vaguely of Bergerac.
For a decade from 1981 to 1991 a UK tv series (set on the island of Jersey) featured a detective of that name. Perhaps it was chosen by the series creator because at this time “The Dordogne”, the name most commonly used in the UK to describe the Périgord Region of France, was a phenomenally popular holiday destination, and was fast becoming the centre for British second home owners.
Bergerac lies about an hour and a half drive east of Bordeaux, along the River Dordogne. It has a strong tradition of viticulture to match the wider region’s gastronomy. Among the many specialities to be enjoyed in Périgord are ceps, truffles, ducks and walnuts, and it’s a region which once grew much of France’s tobacco. Like all of the wines of the interior of Southwest France, for centuries their only way to market was via Bordeaux, and we all know what happened to them. Either used to beef up the weedy wines of the Atlantic coast, or banned from entering the city until the Bordelais’s own wines were sold, they were at a big disadvantage. Yet they happily sit, even today, within their own gastronomic culture and tradition.
Very few Bergerac producers have gained any renown on export markets. Château Tiregand was always on the radar. In the district of Pécharment, with its own appellation, east of the town, it has been, since 1830, in the ownership of the famous St-Exupéry family. Today, keen explorers of the wines of Regional France may know Château Tirecul-la-Gravière, Château Tour des Gendres, Clos D’Yvigne, and perhaps Château des Eyssards.
Potentially, the finest wine of the region is (though perhaps rarely living up to that potential) Monbazillac. A sweet wine similar to Sauternes, but with several points of difference, it is vastly underrated, largely because producers have struggled to sell this wine for a price needed to focus solely on quality. One or two do succeed, but cheap Monbazillac is no better than cheap Sauternes. The co-operative, certainly an under-performer back when I visited, does curate a very fine fourteenth century château.
Undisputedly, the most famous producer in Bergerac for us in back in the 1990s would have been Château de la Jaubertie. Nick Ryman (of high street stationery fame) took over this estate in the 1970s. The wines took off when his son, Hugh, who had spent time working with Brian Croser at Petaluma in South Australia (and “flying winemaker” fame, anyone remember those?), came back to make the wine. Making what were effectively back then wines in a “New World” style (as they used to call it) in a French setting, and with a connection to the popular Majestic Wine Warehouse chain, they managed to become one of the most talked about French wine estates in Britain. Sadly, it didn’t really rub off on Bergerac as a whole.
So, what of Bergerac today? Well, Bordeaux no longer has a stranglehold on Bergerac’s wines, but there has been such a dearth of producers with a market presence that the wines haven’t really gained any reputation at all on our export market. However, with the nostalgia of that first visit on my mind I went to taste the wines of one of the larger family-run domaines, Maison Wessman.

Wessman is an interesting operation. Róbert Wessman purchased the twelfth-century Château de Saint-Cernin in 2016, along with its vineyard parcels near Issigeac. In 2021 he added the 58-hectare estate of Les Verdots at Conne-de-Labarde, and with more vineyards in Limoux, the family now farms 100 hectares. This may seem a lot, but the key of course is to examine the intentions and commitment of the team there, and to this end I was pleased to be seated at lunch next to Maison Wessman’s head winemaker, Lise Sadirac.
Lise is almost a Bergerac native, growing up just to the southwest, but she came to her current role after making organic wines in Corbières. One of her first decisions was to end herbicide use. The vine rows now have grass between them and it is rolled, not cut. The Wessman mission statement declares a commitment to “an innovative approach to eco-responsible and sustainable viticulture”. One aspect of this is what they describe as an ambitious viti-foresty project which goes hand-in-hand with increasing micro-biodiversity in the vineyards. In other words, we won’t pretend we are dealing with “natural wines” here, but we are at a large estate which is moving inexorably in the right direction ecologically.
The Wessman vignoble as a whole grows mostly the varieties traditional to their respective regions. That means Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Malbec for red wines, with, in Bergerac Sémillon, Sauvignon Blanc, Sauvignon Gris and Muscadelle for white wines, plus, in Limoux, Chardonnay, Chenin, and Mauzac (plus Pinot Noir vinified en blanc in Limoux for the just released Petit Cernin Bubbles, a new Crémant de Limoux traditional method sparkling wine).
Overall, the greatest asset they have are their old vineyards. This allows them to make ageworthy wines of quality, but also to produce distinctive wines. There is a move to get Issigeac its own appellation, largely because of its distinctive limestone terroir.
It would take a long time to give a note on every single wine I tasted (both pre- and during lunch), so I shall describe the range and comment on one or two wines generally. The Vignoble des Verdots range produces a full selection of red, white and rosé wines from Bergerac terroirs, including white wines from the calcareous soils of Issigeac. The wines from Château Saint-Cernin are split: red wines from Issigeac and whites from Limoux, most notably in the Haute-Vallée sub-region where exceptional Chardonnay has been grown for a number of decades.
All of the wines tasted were very good, and depending on price ought to gain a following on the UK market (they are already making inroads in Scandinavia and Asia). Even the entry level “Odyssée” label wines are attractive.


The Château Les Tours des Verdots Blanc is a traditional rendition of white Bergerac. It blends Sauvignons Blanc and Gris for freshness, and Sémillon for roundness, with just under 10% Muscadelle. Out of favour in Bordeaux, where the damp Atlantic climate doesn’t really suit it, Muscadelle is a gem of a variety for seasoning purposes. It is harvested late and adds perfume to the finished wine.

One style which was once very common in Bergerac white wines, but fell out of favour, was “Moelleux”. The Verdots moelleux wine isn’t as sweet as the description suggests, but made from selected parcels of Sémillon and Muscadelle, it gives out gentle stewed yellow fruit compote and honey on a rounded palate. A yellow-gold colour makes it a lovely wine for a summer evening, though it does pack 13% abv, so it might be less suitable for lunch time. I know my tastes aren’t mainstream but I like this style and it has its place. Give it a try. It was once very much a part of the wider Aquitaine tradition. I guess we just stopped having cake at 4pm, more’s the pity.

One of the reds I liked most was called Imprévu (2023). I’d definitely buy multiple bottles. It’s a red for chilling (I mean in the fridge, but for relaxing too, of course). This is actually a wine with 14% abv, but the reason to try it is because you would never guess that, more like 12%. Very fruity and fun.

There are some impressive red wines from both ranges. Maybe they could stop putting the top wines in such heavy bottles? It would do wonders for their eco-credentials. A wine like the Grand Vin Les Verdots is an old vine selection which sees new oak, with around 3,000 bottles produced. This is impressive, even in a crowded field. I imagine it will provide good value on price too.
If you want something to drink now, the contrasting Petit Cernin Rouge 2019 seems fresh and fruity. It comes from younger vines at Issigeac and despite being assembled by Michel Rolland it is very “supple, tasty and focused on fruit” as the marketing says.
Lise told us she is hoping that in the future there will be a separate appellation for Issigeac, perhaps like Pécharment (to the east of Bergerac town and once seen as the source for the best Bergerac wines). The requirement is to show that the wines from this elevated terroir are demonstrably different to those from the rest of the region. That is something I could not answer, but Lise is convinced those differences are there. She is especially happy with the depth and balance the Issigeac fruit brings to the wines.



The red wines are very much excellent renditions of a blend which rather went out of fashion, largely due to perceptions about Red Bordeaux (elitist attitudes, trading for too long on a name alone, collector’s wines, Parkerisation and points) but I think the traditional “Bordeaux blend” is definitely coming back. What I’m talking about really is Cabernet/Merlot, or in this case Merlot/Cabernet because I’d say 60:40 is a typical blend here.
However, Cabernet Franc is perceived as very much a variety for the future because it is now achieving phenolic ripeness without difficulty, and perhaps one day Merlot will have problems with over-ripeness. Lise is very pleased with the performance of Cabernet Franc and sees a greater role for the variety here. She is also planting other varieties in experimental plots, trying to secure the future by finding grapes which will thrive as the region gets warmer.
It’s telling that at one time the Côtes de Bergerac AOC only asked for a minimum ripeness of 10% alcohol. Of course, this meant the wines were chaptalized, as indeed they were in most well-known French Appellations. Now, adding the sugar is no longer practised, at least at quality producers, as the grapes now ripen fully. This is a massive aid to quality in the resulting wines, and is one fewer expense, along with ditching the chemicals, for the producers and their bottom line.
When we talk about sugar that leads us on nicely to one of the gems of the wider region, Monbazillac. Whilst we shouldn’t totally ignore Saussignac, because there are one or two very good sweet wines made in that tiny AOP, Monbazillac has a “fame” stretching back to the Middle Ages. Apparently Monbazillac makes thirty times more wine than Saussignac (Source = The World Atlas of Wine, 8th edn). It’s an appellation changed beyond recognition since the 1990s when machine harvesting was banned and sulphur additions, the bane of generic Sauternes it should be said, were dramatically lowered.
The Gardonette, a tributary of The Dordogne, is the source for the mists which allow for the creation of botrytis here, performing much the same role as The Ciron where it flows into the Garonne in Sauternes. But Monbazillac isn’t a copy of Sauternes. The terroir is hillier, but more importantly the Muscadelle grape plays a very significant role in Monbazillac (it’s a variety which has become very minor at most in Sauternes and Barsac).
The over-riding difference on the palate between the two wines is freshness. Monbazillac may lack the deep concentration of the finest Sauternes but, especially when young, it has a freshness that Sauternes normally lacks. I’m not saying that makes it qualitatively the better wine, but it is certainly an attractive quality for anyone considering drinking sweet wines today.
We finished our lunch with a delicious food pairing, Château Les Tours des Verdots Monbazillac 2020 SGN (Sélection de Grains Nobles), sipped with Muscovado tart with blood orange. From a half-hectare plot at Monbazillac, this is botrytis-affected wine, so it can’t be made every year. The grapes are harvested in a minimum of three tries through the vineyard for optimum noble rot. It spent two years in barrel and was bottled (1,000x50cl) with 150g/l residual sugar.
This particular cuvée is 100% Semillon. It is rich, but is balanced by fresh acids. There’s a hint of apricot and marmalade. It is frankly delicious. I drink so little dessert wine nowadays, but I’m a sucker for it when I do.

Lunch was at Tipo on Central Edinburgh’s Hannover Street. I’d not been before and the food, eaten over three hours, was excellent (see menu photo below). The veal chop was pretty special, and the tart mentioned above was pretty excellent too. But even the focaccia was spectacularly fresh and the plate of salumi was locally farm-sourced. I’ve included some photos below.
There is one “typo” on the menu…the Crémant didn’t arrive, hence no note on it. We were instead served a Maison Wessmann Champagne as out apéritif, but this blend of Pinot Noir from Ay and Chardonnay from the Côte des Blancs is made for, not by, Maison Wessman.





Moving back to the wines, I imagine some readers who are used, like me, to drinking the wines of mostly small artisan producers might be slightly sceptical about trying the wines of a producer which farms 100 hectares. However, as the owner of a wine importing business who I was tasting with yesterday pointed out to those present, when things are done on a larger scale it can have a greater impact.
Maison Wessman, through Head Winemaker Lise Sadirac, is doing more and more on a large scale to eradicate the use of synthetic herbicides and pesticides, to regenerate the viticultural environment and to lessen the impact of their winemaking operations. But at the end of the day the wines have to speak for themselves and I found them to be quality wines, enjoyable at every level. I hope they manage to find a UK importer.
As for Bergerac, it was very interesting to see the vast amount of progress made in the region, at least by one producer. Call me nostalgic, but it did make me happy. What used to be called “French Country Wines” by the old-time wine writers have by-and-large all come of age now, but Bergerac certainly has plenty of potential, more perhaps than most, which owners like the Wessman family are beginning to tap.
The event was organised by Wine PR firm Westbury Communications, who I would like to thank for doing an excellent job here, once again.
Not the first region I visited for wine but one of the first few including Jaubertie at its peak. A 76 Monbazillac is also my oldest bottle, made completely naturally in a shed down a track by an old man who was a friend of De Gaulle! I hope to open it on its 50th anniversary.
Sounds like a great tasting, good to see French regions like this being refreshed by younger producers who have a plan to make healthy wines of character.
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Oddly, for a long while my oldest was a 76 Chateau-Chalon from Henri Maire from first visit to Arbois. Drank it a couple of years ago but despite unfashionable producer it was very good.
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