The telephone trilled loudly, reverberating around the living room. Angela Quinney stopped ironing, mid-shirt, and scurried across the room to pick up the call.

She knew only too well who it would be; her husband, Gavin. Having recently sold some shares he was making the most of his new-found wealth, indulging himself in Bordeaux, tasting some of the region's grandest wines, and visiting as many châteaux as he could. Meanwhile Angela was holding the fort at home, looking after their two children, and waiting for news from their solicitor; they had just submitted an offer for a larger house in Putney, a well-to-do suburb of London.

She picked up. Yes, it was Gavin.

"Ange," he enquired, "I was just wondering whether you would mind living in France rather than London?"

History has it that Angela said she would not mind living in France. Of course, this history was that recounted by Gavin, so who knows what was truly said. Perhaps something with a few more expletives?

"Oh that's good," replied Gavin, "because I've just bought a château. With a vineyard."

The Quinney family's new adventure, making a success of Château Bauduc, in Bordeaux's Entre-Deux-Mers region, had begun.

Gavin's Story

Gavin Quinney was a man in the right place, at the right time. Having worked a few early jobs as a porter in the Old Masters picture department at Christie's auction house, and then in a London wine merchant, in the early 1980s he stumbled upon computers, particularly those made by an up-and-coming company named, curiously, Apple. Convinced by the produced, he took up a position at a local dealer, subsequently moving to a much larger computer dealership. Ten years later he was head of sales, and he had taken quite a few share options in the company. By 1997 Computacenter - as it was named - had an annual turnover of £1 billion, at which point it was floated on the stock market. A year later Gavin cashed in his shares.

Which was when, with his back pocket stuffed with cash, he decided to explore anew his interest in wine. Which was how he ended up buying Château Bauduc.

Having travelled to Bordeaux for the 1999 Vinexpo trade fair, Gavin found himself château-hunting; he viewed Bauduc in July (the telephone call presumably came soon after), signed in August with the bunches hanging on the vine, and by September he and his new team were out in the vines, wielding the secateurs. Thus 1999 was the Quinney's first harvest, although 2000 was the first vintage over which they had complete control, from the pruning in winter through to the final moment of bottling. And so in 2024 they celebrated 25 complete vintages here, a significant milestone and an admirable achievement.

Bauduc Today

The Bauduc vineyard sits just outside Créon, an ancient market town about 15 miles south-east of the city of Bordeaux. Initially dominated by red vines, a programme of restructuring and replanting has seen the emphasis shift to white, which makes sense not only for Bauduc's soils, which are largely blends of light gravel and clay, but it perhaps better matches the appetite of modern consumers. Sauvignon dominates, so most of the white harvest goes into a domaine cuvée featuring this variety; there are also some Semillon vines, the basis for Les Trois Hectares, an old-vines cuvée blending Semillon with a touch of Sauvignon. The red side of the portfolio follows much the same pattern, although Merlot dominates throughout. Of note, there is a pretty smart rosé, and in recent years the Quinneys have responded to the growing demand for good-value fizz by adding a Crémant de Bordeaux, fashioned using purely Semillon, to the range.

The wines quickly found their fans, many of whom order a case or seven every year, direct from the Bauduc website, for home delivery. This legion of fans include a couple of notable gastronomic names; twenty years ago the wines found their way before the head sommelier at Gordon Ramsay's London restaurants, and the white was immediately listed as the group's house wine, and it remains on the list today. Another highly regarded chef, Rick Stein of The Seafood Restaurant in Padstow, also listed the wines, and continues to do so, with the white, rosé and red all finding favour here. The wines are worth knowing; they offer a reliable 'value' option in a region renowned for expensive labels.

I first visited the estate back in 2012, and I recall soaking up the summer sunshine as Gavin and I tasted his range at a table set up outside the back door of his 19th-century château. On this most recent visit I took a seat at Gavin Quinney's dining table, for a tasting of multiple vintages of his red, sparkling and white wines.

The Wines

Starting with the reds, I came first to the entry-level Bordeaux Supérieur, where I was expecting the 2022 to shine, but it was in a sulky mood, perhaps still to recover after its bottling. It was eclipsed on this occasion by the delicious 2020 (tasted both from bottle and magnum, both showing youthful energy at this stage), followed up by a rather smart 2019. The strongest reds were, as you might expect, under the Les Trois Hectares label, with very fine results in 2020 and 2019, both on top form, while the 2022 - this bottling seemingly less sullen - and 2018 also showing well.

I continued with the whites, where I first took a look at the estate's white Bordeaux Sauvignon Blanc, the cuvée seemingly so popular with British restaurateurs. It was the 2020 which impressed most, with a fine and powdery substance. A clear step up, however, was the cuvée parcellaire Les Trois Hectares, especially in the 2023 vintage, with all its limestone minerals and waxy lemon fruits. Give this one a few more years in bottle to allow the Semillon to really come out of its shell, and I can see it delivering real pleasure.

To finish, I stuck my nose into a glass of Gavin's 2020 Crémant de Bordeaux Blanc de Blancs. This pure-Semillon sparkler made for a good palate refresher (before I moved onto my next appointment, with Peter Sisseck, at Château Rocheyron), and right now it would suit those who seek out more punchy, austere and mineral styles, although I suspect with time in bottle the mousse will settle down, and the style will soften up. Why not leave it in bottle to rest for a year or two, and find out?

After a bite of cheese and freshly baked bread from the Créon boulangerie I departed, en route for St Emilion, and as I drove I pondered the circumstances that had brought Gavin Quinney to his position as Bordeaux château proprietor; a short-lived job with a wine merchant which lit a flame within; an early passion for Apple products, leading to a share windfall; and a return to that love of wine, which led to the almost accidental discovery of Château Bauduc, and ultimately that phone call home.

And I found myself wondering what would happen if, one day, my shirt-ironing session had been interrupted by an unexpected telephone call, asking me to put all my plans on hold, withdraw the offer on the luxury house we viewed last week, and to pack everything up, because we were about to relocate to France, to live the dream, in a glorious château dating to the Belle Époque, with sunshine on tap and 25 hectares of vines almost ready to be picked?

And then I realised just how ridiculous that thought was.

After all, I haven't ironed a shirt in years.