Didier’s son, Benjamin, meets us at the winery at 10 AM. Emotions run high from the outset. Michael and Didier were the closest of friends, and Benjamin looks to Michael for insight into the progress of the winery. In his late twenties, Benjamin assumes a formidable mantle. His iconoclastic-cum-icon father revolutionized Loire Valley winemaking by advocating everything from extremely low, intense yields via remarkably dense plantings, to the cultivation of experimental/historical varieties, as well as natural/minimal intervention viticultural and vinification practices. Benjamin naturally seeks assurance in his father’s stead.

He tells us that he’s read on the internet that the domaine’s wines “will never be as interesting” in Didier’s absence. How does he receive an onslaught of contrarian public opinion, yet still focus on coaxing the vines to do their best? In the absence of the patriarch, how does he keep family harmony, between sister and stepmother, while maintaining the winery’s integrity? Didier declared his 2007s to be his finest wines ever, so how can Benjamin possibly follow suit? Eyes wide and watery, arms outstretched, he implores a long-time family friend and two total strangers for some advice into how to proceed and still keep it all together.

In the face of such visceral concern, I begin to think that the following tasting will be more of a dénouement than a climax to what has otherwise been a spectacular adventure. My curiosity and anticipation morph into sympathy and anxiety. I brace myself for a speedy and somber run through the wines. We begin with Didier’s much-lauded 2007s. The villages, or “entry-level” offering of the Blanc Fume de Pouilly comes first, followed by the Pur Sang, Buisson Renardes, and Silex. The broad and richly fruited Pur Sang (“pure blood”) comes from a site that lies at a lower elevation than that of the searingly focused Silex. Pur Sang grapes grow on soils that boast more clay than those of the Silex site, while Silex comes from an upthrust of flint. The tropical and lush Buisson Renardes comes from the lowest vineyard portion of all, which boasts the most clay. We move into the Mont Damne, a crisp and minerally Sancerre, for which 2007 was the first export year. Various scrawls cover the label. Dider asked his friends to write on a piece of paper, in their native-tongues, their translations of “Mont Damne” and send them to him. Next to some Braille and Japanese characters, Michael’s “Mount Doom” is easy to spot.

Benjamin next leads us through the 2008s. His father died just before harvest, and 2008 was by no means an easy vintage. Given Didier’s pride for his 2007s, and Benjamin’s nervousness, I ready myself to be underwhelmed.

In short, the 2008s—Benjamin’s first vintage—show spectacularly well. Supreme aromatic purity and extract density stun Michael, Justin and I into silence. I won’t say that Benjamin’s first Dagueneau offerings are “better” than his father’s last, but I will tell you that I have not been so moved by a white wine since. Fully prepared to shrug and move on, I suddenly find myself overwhelmed by the aesthetic intensity of this experience. Have you ever been moved to tears by a painting, or music? On the most perfect of occasions, this happens with wine, too.