Domaine de la Chanteleuserie’s 2024 Cuvée Alouettes is a bright, fruit-forward take on Bourgueil, drawn from the estate’s sandier soils. Those soils give the wine an easygoing, supple texture. Fermentation and aging in stainless steel keep everything fresh and vivid. You get a burst of black raspberry and wild berry, a little pepper, a hint of earth and mineral. It feels lively from the first sip, the way a young Loire Cabernet Franc should. By the second glass, you’ll have better odds of pronouncing “Bourgueil” properly too. You gotta have goals in life, right?

Bourgueil sits in the middle of the Cabernet Franc spectrum in this corner of the Loire. Chinon often leans softer and more approachable. Saumur tends to be lighter and more glou-glou, except for the top Saumur producers whose efforts have been noted by the influential restaurant Sommeliers of the world. These wines are not only virtually impossible to find now, but you could mortgage your house, put your Ferrari up for sale on Craigslist, and sell your spare kidney on the open market and maybe then you could pick up a 3-pack for the cellar (and the accompanying bragging rights). It’s easier to find DRC La Tâche or Leroy Musigny.

But at least Bourguiel remains undiscovered by the influences. This is what wine shop employees drink on their downtime while studying up to amass more wine certifications to add to their resumes.

Bourgueil usually shows a firmer spine than the fancy-pants Saumurs and Chinons. Thie Cuvée Alouettes is the exception that proves the rule. Because it comes from sand rather than the region’s more structured tuffeau or limestone sites, it plays closer to the Chinon or Saumur side of things. Rounder fruit. Softer tannin. Immediate charm. For less dough too.

The 2024 vintage, tricky though it was, brought a kind of clarity and sense of purpose to this wine. Rain and cool weather pared things back, so what we’ve got here is a wine of finesse, not power and weight. You can drink it now and feel its energy immediately. The acidity is bright. The fruit is pure. Everything feels balanced and relaxed. You can drink it now with roast chicken, pork chops, charcuterie, and putting a slight chill on it makes it even more delightful, if such a thing is possible. With time in the cellar, it’ll add a touch of forest floor and dusk-lit spice, all aimed toward complexity, not points-scoring affectation. It’s not intended to evolve forever, but speaking from experience, a bottle (or case) misplaced and forgotten in the cellar for a decade isn’t such a bad thing.