There is no doubting where I cut my teeth on Cabernet Franc. It was in Chinon, arguably the Loire Valley's best-known appellation for red wine (although I guess the vignerons of Saumur and Saumur-Champigny might have something to say about that).

Indeed, I can pinpoint the moment of that cutting to a time and a place. The time was summer (sorry, were you hoping for something more exact?), probably August, in 1993. I was tasting, drinking and eating my way along the Loire Valley, my first ever visit to the region, and my home-made itinerary brought me to the well-known wine town of Chinon, on the banks of the Vienne.

I can be a little more specific regarding the place; it was in the tasting room at Couly-Dutheil, which at the time was housed in a low-slung building sat at the foot of the slope of the Clos de l'Echo (although it has since moved to a rather more swish location in a house just up the road).

The Clos de l'Echo is surely Chinon's most famed vineyard and one which every true Cabernet Franc apostle should visit at least once. I have done so a handful of times over the years, most recently when I was checking out the 2023 harvest, and the time before that I walked around the vines with Arnaud Couly himself.

That visit with Arnaud was memorable. Having completed our walk around the clos I could not resist (although there was certainly some encouragement from Arnaud) testing out the reason for the vineyard's name; like a pair of lunatics howling at the moon, we stood among the vines shouting rapidly invented rhymes against the walls of the royal fortress on the opposite side of the road, and stood as the echoes washed back over us. As it turned out, the Clos de l'Echo is deserving of its name.

Thankfully, nobody on the road below was watching, and no photographic evidence of this adventure exists. That's probably a good thing.

The association between Couly-Dutheil and the vineyards of Chinon is so tightly woven that this week's Weekend Wine choice initially had me scratching my head. Arnaud Couly is one of the largest landholders in Chinon, with - the last time I asked - 90 hectares of vines; in terms of size only Baudry-Dutour come close, most vignerons in the appellation tending domaines which are just a fraction of this. And other than a few rows of Chenin Blanc in Saumur (which add a useful white to the portfolio), he is working exclusively in Chinon, making this wine from Bourgueil something of a mystery. I also failed to track down a lieu-dit named Les Closiers in Bourgueil, another appellation I have come to know fairly well over the years. A second mystery.

I realised there was perhaps only one person who could solve these mysteries. I got back in touch with Arnaud, and after reminiscing about our Clos de l'Echo adventures I asked him about the wine.

"This Bourgueil was vinified by my grandfather, René Couly. We don't own a vineyard in Bourgueil, so he purchased the fruit at harvest. There is no lieu-dit Les Closiers, the grapes came from vines on clay-limestone soils, in the commune of Benais. My grandfather vinified in a rather 'confident' manner, undertaking plenty of extraction; that said, I believe this degree of extraction is what has allowed this Bourgueil to reach you today."

Arnaud kindly furnished me with a photograph of René Couly in the Couly-Dutheil barrel cellar; he is on the left, I presume his cellar master on the right. I'm not sure when this photograph was taken, but looking at René I would estimate it dates to the late 1950s, or 1960s. Arnaud, however, had another way of dating it.

"It was taken at a time when we would wear a tie to taste from the barrels!"

Indeed it was, and I immediately wondered whether I should have worn a tie to taste this wine. I promise I will do so next time. And the next time I take a walk around the Clos de l'Echo, too, just in case there is somebody waiting to capture my insane shouting on film.