Rolling With Changes of Wines From Languedoc ONCE, back in the 1990s, my very young son, surveying the density of scaffolding and construction sites in our Manhattan neighborhood, said, "Dad, when are they going to finish building New York?" I think of his question whenever I open a bottle of wine from the Languedoc, a region that seems as if it, too, is permanently in transition. Find an article on the Languedoc published anytime in the last 25 years and the odds are, the theme will be the same: the makeover from ocean of mediocrity to region of vast, realized potential. If it seems that the Languedoc is always on the way but never quite arriving, that's only because the region has had so far to go, and the destination, like the completion of New York City, will always be elusive. Nonetheless, the progress is real. Yet the evolution of the Languedoc is not merely linear. That would be too simple, too easy, in a region that can be as challenging as it is rewarding. A few weeks ago, the wine panel surveyed recent vintages of red wines from the Languedoc. We tasted 20 bottles, restricting ourselves to the Languedoc rather than including the Roussillon, the neighboring region that so often forms the tail end of the hyphenated pairing Languedoc-Roussillon. For the tasting, Florence Fabricant and I were joined by Michael Madrigale, the head sommelier at Bar Boulud and Boulud Sud, and Thomas Pastuszak, the wine director at the NoMad. It was clear from our tasting why the Languedoc is sometimes called the California of France. The grip of history, so powerful through most of France in the rules that govern its appellation system, is less evident in the Languedoc. If anything, the region's many years as a bulk-wine supplier for the rest of the country offer clear justification for the sort of experimentation that sometimes muddies the clarity of its identity. Without the burden of past greatness, and lacking the clear delineation of rigorous appellations, many producers feel freer in the Languedoc to work with untraditional grapes in the region. Carignan, cinsault, grenache, syrah and mourvèdre still predominate, though the proportion of syrah has risen as carignan has declined. But cabernet, merlot and other international grapes are also part of the mix, especially in those wines labeled vins de pays. A result, in our tasting, at least, were wines of great contrasts. From glass to glass, the styles veered wildly. Some evoked what I always imagine to be the wildness of the Mediterranean countryside: craggy, rocky hillsides redolent of lavender and wild thyme, the famous garrigue. Others are powerful modern wines, dominated by sweet fruit and oak. Some wines are stern, tannic, almost austere. Others are dense yet supple. And another style has emerged, incorporating the Beaujolais winemaking method of carbon maceration that can make spicy, easily accessible wines. "The styles make the region interesting," Michael said. The common thread is the grapes are really good - this is great terroir. Thomas was impressed by the general quality of the winemaking, regardless of the style. "It's great to see such a maligned region produce so many good wines," he said. I agreed with Michael and Thomas, yet for me, and for all of us, by far the most interesting wines were also the most distinct, those that could come from nowhere else but Mediterranean France. The smooth, fruity, oaky wines can no doubt compete on the global stage. Yet in the end, what will really set them apart from similar wines, whether from the United States, South America, Tuscany or Australia? Price, perhaps? The wines most full of distinctive character, like our favorites, still rely primarily on the traditional grapes, even the oft-despised carignan, which top Languedoc producers have proved can achieve great results if its carefully farmed and the yields are kept relatively low. Our No. 1 bottle, the 2009 Faugères Jadis from Léon Barral, was 50 percent carignan, along with 30 percent syrah and 20 percent grenache. It was juicy, earthy and complex, but what really set it apart from the other wines was a tension and balance that gave the wine great energy.