Gaillac at the table. Braucol, duck and a falconer winemaker.

Gaillac, an old name returning

Gaillac is one of the oldest wine areas in France, and its wines were once famous. In the past they traveled by river, and Nicolas explains that the Bordeaux merchants controlled that access, while Andreas recalls that Gaillac wines were used to beef up weaker Bordeaux. With that bottleneck long gone, Nicolas is optimistic that Gaillac will be well known again.

The region's treasure is its grapes. For reds there are Duras, with its black pepper, Braucol and Prunelard; for whites, Mauzac, used for sparkling wines and known for its apple nose, Loin de l'Œil and Ondenc. If you are tired of Cabernet, Chardonnay and Sauvignon, Andreas says, look to southwestern France.

Braucol: tannic, peppery and long lived

Braucol is typical of the Southwest and above all of Gaillac. Nicolas is honest about it: like Cabernet, it is difficult when it is not ripe, turning tannic and vegetal. With full ripeness it gives blackcurrant and black pepper, with herbal hints of sage and bay leaf that Andreas picks up. The tannins are firm but ripe and add freshness.

The Cuvée Florentin 2017 is 100% Braucol, named after the place near Gaillac where the family's windmill stands. It can be drunk now but will keep for ten years and more; Nicolas has tasted 20-year-old Braucol from good, ripe years without any problem.

Andreas sees a bonus in most of the black grapes of the Southwest: with their acidity and tannin, aging for 10, 15 or 20 years is no problem. Cinto, poured later in the episode, is inky and massive, yet like many reds from this part of France it is concentrated without tasting sweet.

A family of bricks, wine and eagles

Domaine du Moulin has been in the Hirissou family for six generations. For a long time they made bricks as well as wine, and Nicolas says the bridges and castles of Gaillac were built with them; after the Second World War the family stopped the bricks to focus on wine. Nicolas played handball, studied viticulture and enology in California and came back to the winery in 2002.

Today he farms organically, presses olive oil at a windmill around 300 years old, and is a falconer. His second wine, Cinto, a blend of Tannat, Syrah and Braucol, is named after his golden eagle, with which he hunts without ever firing a shot.

His hunting is simple and social: a wild boar grilled over an open fire with friends and a glass of wine. A golden eagle, he explains, can spot a deer two kilometers away and leaves his hand at around 100 kilometers per hour, and he counts only about ten falconers like him in France.

Honey and pepper duck with Beluga lentils

For the Braucol, Andreas roasts duck on the bone for juicier flesh, rendering the fat to cook Beluga lentils with veal stock and a bouquet garni. The duck is glazed with honey and roasted Sichuan and black pepper, and served with a spicy jus of red wine, ginger and orange, a nod to canard à l'orange.

It works because the wine has enough richness, acidity and tannin to cut through the fat, and the pepper in the dish meets the pepper of the Braucol. Nicolas calls the match perfect.

Andreas keeps the rendered duck fat, a staple of Southwest cooking and one of the tastiest fats there is, for the lentils, and flambés the pan with cognac before building the sauce. Resting the duck before carving keeps the flesh juicy.

A blind white and a green risotto

Nicolas then brings a favorite wine from a favorite place, to be tasted blind. Andreas finds floral notes, lime, lemongrass, crushed apple and pear, with stony purity and no oak. He answers with a green risotto of peas, spinach, tarragon and parsley, cooked with a broth from vongole clams and finished with cheese.

Watch to see how close Andreas gets to a wine he may never have tasted before, and where Nicolas lands in the food and wine memory game.