
Dagueneau made wine in the appellation of Pouilly-Fumé, in the village of Saint-Andelain. His wines were not always in a style that I loved; they were big, bombastic, sometimes outrageous white wines, and the prices rose meteorically as he achieved cult status. But then he was a larger-than-life character in all aspects: well over six feet tall, he sported a wild nimbus of hair and beard that was uncannily lionesque. He was demonstrable and excitable, and one of the most unintentionally funny pieces of wine journalism I ever saw was an interview between him and Jancis Robinson, wine writer for the Financial Times. She's English, very polite and proper, and it was hilarious to watch her meekly but earnestly pose questions to Dagueneau, then in turn watch him literally erupt and roar in response, gesticulating like a maniac, so caught up in the question that he repeatedly failed to notice the look of mild terror in her eyes.
He was a great winemaker, and he made the world of wine far richer for his presence. He will be sorely missed.
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