
SCEA Pujol
Arid land tirelessly beaten by the Tramontane and combed by rows of vines that stretch over the first foothills of the Canigou.
As a child, with my brother Loïc, this land was our playground. Regularly, we escaped from the house and walked its reliefs, jumped its “córrecs”, chewed the branches of wild fennel and waded in the puddles of the small torrents that descend from the Pyrenees and shape the terraces of the Aspres.
We grew up in a family of winegrowers, the smell of fermentation, the tasting of berries and grape juice, the sound of tractors at dawn, the taste of the table and the early evenings with Evelyne Dhéliat punctuated our daily lives.
All this seemed to me to be ordinary.
It is much later that I understood how lucky I was to live in this environment that my parents and ancestors had shaped gesture after gesture, season after season, generation after generation.
However, I left with my curiosity to discover other terroirs, other wines, other faces, stories similar or different from my own. I spent more than ten years defending the terroirs and winegrowers of the Rhone Valley.
Loïc also had a thirst for discovery. His career path took him to the southern hemisphere, to Australia, to a wine world very different from ours.
But the Aspres was never far from us. We came back regularly to participate in the harvest and to learn from our parents. Loïc returned to the domain in 2016.
In 2018, I took the plunge with Nicolas in my luggage. Originally from Châteauneuf du Pape, this passionate man has crossed the polymorphous universe of wine in its thousand and one lives. He has always been guided by his instinct and his talent, working alongside the greatest in the industry.
Today, our trio is the eighth generation of Mas Pujol.
In this initiatory path that is imposed on the winegrower’s profession, we had to leave aside our arrogance to learn the gestures that connect us to the obvious. Heirs to a living soil and a family know-how, our link to the earth is so intimate, so vital that nothing can change it.
The daily wonder of what nature gives us, without constraining it, but to welcome its truth, is our common thread.
Our wines are a cry of insurrection, they carry within them this utopia which makes us move forward.