As omnipresent as the looming hills, history seems to drive the best St.-Joseph producers. The Gonon brothers, who come from a long line of vignerons, cling to many of the old ways. They plow their slopes by horse or, if the incline is simply too steep, by treuil, a system in which the plow is pulled up the hill by a cable attached to a winch, guided by a human. Some hills are even too steep for the treuil. In the relentless sun of a summer day, plowing is not easy.

“All the old people were not plowing for happiness,” Jean Gonon said. “They plowed because they needed to. Our parents worked very hard, but they weren’t recognized for their work or financially. We are lucky. People are buying our wines.”

The Gonon St.-Josephs are complex, layered and structured, stern and austere when young but opening beautifully over 7 to 10 years. In good vintages, like 2007, they make a special cuvée from old vines that is denser and more structured, emphasizing the stony, mineral heart of the wines.

They also have vines on the flatlands, but those grapes don’t go into the St.-Joseph. Instead, those wines are labeled Vin de Pays d’Ardèche. The difference between the two wines is striking: the Vin de Pays is delicious but easygoing, without the density or complexity of the St.-Joseph; syrah, not terroir, as Jean Gonon puts it.

A lot of St.-Joseph is like that, too.

“St.-Joseph is quite comfortable,” Jean Gonon said. “It sells well, and for some people that’s enough. They aren’t trying to make something distinctive.”

One of the Gonons’ vineyards, on a hill high above the village of St.-Jean-de-Muzols, was once worked by Raymond Trollat, who more than anybody embodies the history of St.-Joseph. The vineyard was planted by his grandfather almost a century ago and tended by his father. But Mr. Trollat retired in 2005 and, without an heir, sold some of his vines to the Gonons. Mr. Trollat, now 82 with hands gnarled by hard work and time, and wearing his ubiquitous bucket hat, is the legendary conscience of St.-Joseph.