We try never to get too carried away at Bibendum, but a bottle of Jo Landron’s single-vineyard 2021 Les Houx—a refreshing curveball of white peach flesh and crushed pebble minerality—got the better of us. So, we're just gonna put it out there: there has never been a better time to drink great grower Muscadet. While there is still plenty of neutral Muscadet around—the overcropped, money-talks-and-terroir-walks stuff that was big in the 1980s and ’90s—the region’s peloton of top growers has been pulling further out of sight. Ambitious organic farming, lower yields and improved winemaking are propelling the best Muscadet deep into France’s white-wine premier league. At the same time, climate change has introduced more flesh and alluring pulpiness to an already vibrant mix of racy freshness and light alcohol: that bottle of 2021 Les Houx is a relatively smashable 12%. And how can we not mention the pricing: terroir-focused grower Muscadet remains the last great wine of the Loire Valley, where the cost has not caught up with the quality. Almost 40 years into his quest, Jo Landron and his walrus-like moustache remain among the great evangelists behind Muscadet’s continued rise. A freight train of energy and discovery, Landron has been certified organic for 20 years and biodynamic for 18 of those. To unearth the essence of his soils, everything is done by hand, from shoot-thinning and pruning to harvesting—even for the introductory wines. “Minerality is not free,” exclaims Landron. “You have to work for it!” Mineral intensity is one thing this family’s wines have in spades. At the same time, low yields and stripped-to-the-bone native yeast winemaking result in wines that are as precise and pure as they are textural and complete. Now joined by his daughter Hélène and her 60 head of Lacune dairy sheep, Landron’s terroir-driven whites go from strength to strength. “Every soil has its own potential and identity,” he says, a logic acutely reflected in his wines, be it the iodine and mineral quiver of Amphibolite or the chalky grip and oyster shell nuance of Le Clos la Carizière from old vines on orthogneiss. Then, there is the struck-flint complexity and marbled texture of Landron’s long lees-aged Le Fief du Breil—a stark reminder that, far from being a wallflower, the region’s Melon is a variety full of character that can age beautifully. It’s what you do with it that counts.