Honeysuckle, peach, jasmine. Ripe, perfumed and exotic, viscous and heady – but, at its best, with a mineral, saline line and phenolic grip that keeps its hedonism in check. Condrieu is a wine like no other – and one that couldn’t be much less fashionable if it tried.  And yet, its top bottlings are incredibly hard to find. The likes of Georges Vernay’s Coteau de Vernon or Guigal’s La Doriane fly out on release. Chapoutier’s Coteau de Chery is absorbed effortlessly by France’s finest restaurant wine lists. The iconic Château-Grillet has almost vanished from the world of retail since it was taken over by Artémis. Production might be limited – but it’s also clear that there’s more than enough demand for these very special wines from the Northern Rhône.  The appellation and its unique expression of the Viognier grape has a rocky history. The Romans were the first to cultivate vines in this corner of the Rhône Valley – and they’ve been there ever since. By the 17th century, the wines from the steep slopes around the village of Condrieu were renowned throughout France. In 1853, there were 143 hectares of vines in the region – but then plague and pest arrived: powdery mildew swept through the vines, swiftly followed by phylloxera, decimating vineyards across Europe. With two World Wars, as well as the industrialisation of the valley, the workforce fled the vines for more stable, salaried factory work: looking up at the back-breaking angle of its slopes, entirely unmechanisable, it’s easy to see why the region’s vineyards were almost entirely abandoned. When the Condrieu Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) was created in 1940 (encompassing the villages of Condrieu, Vérin and Saint-Michel-sur-Rhône), just six hectares of vines remained.  Only eight of the potential 170 hectares were planted in the 1960s and Condrieu’s future looked uncertain. But one vigneron was quietly working to change that.  Georges Vernay – whose father Francis Vernay had helped create the appellation after planting his family’s first vines on the Coteau de Vernon in 1937 – believed in the alchemy between Condrieu’s biotite granite slopes and the Viognier grape. At the time, the region was best-known for its stone-fruit – with a kilo of peaches worth significantly more than a kilo of grapes. (The area is still known for its fruit today, Jean-Marc Roulot sources the apricots for his eau de vie and liqueur from the Rhône.) When Georges Vernay uprooted orchards to plant Viognier, people called him a fool.  “No one believed in Condrieu anymore, or in Viognier anymore,” Philippe Guigal – the winemaker and third-generation at the helm of his family’s company – tells me. Philippe’s father Marcel was another pioneer of the region, persisting in making fine wine from the region’s uneconomically steep terraces.  Vernay kept his faith too – championing Condrieu, but also Viognier. Almost all the Viognier in the world was planted in Condrieu at the time, and Vernay supplied cuttings to those outside the region – encouraging others to plant this distinctive grape. At the same time, he championed the region with his age-worthy wines, especially the now-iconic Coteau de Vernon.  By 1986 there were still only 19 hectares of Condrieu planted, but Vernay’s battle started paying off – wine-lovers fell for Condrieu’s rich, textural whites and plantings rocketed. There were 38 hectares of vines by 1992 and 217 by 2024. But it wasn’t just in the Rhône that Viognier finally found its footing – plantings appeared in the Ardèche, the Languedoc, Australia, California (especially with the wave of Rhône Rangers, led by Randall Grahm) and beyond. Viognier’s lustre had been restored.  Although now much more widely planted, it’s only in Condrieu that Viognier reaches such heights. Here, on steep terraced slopes in this hallowed corner of the Rhône, the vines sit almost directly on the granite bedrock – a specific type of granite laced with biotite, an iron-rich black mica. It’s this biotite granite that defined the original Condrieu appellation created in 1940 – encompassing vineyards around the villages of Condrieu, Vérin and Saint-Michel-sur-Rhône. The monopole appellation Château-Grillet (sadly unable to comment for this feature) sits within Condrieu, classified four years prior, and sharing the same biotite granite. The iron in the soils is key, lending much-needed tension to the potentially flabby Viognier.  Finding – and keeping – that tension is key to the best Condrieu. And it isn’t about acidity per se, but a sense of freshness.   For Emma Amsellem – who works alongside her mother Christine Vernay at Domaine Georges Vernay, “It’s a combination of different things.” She attributes much to their farming (which is both organic and biodynamic), as well as working with old vines and low yields (normally around 27-30hl/ha). Maxime Chapoutier – who works alongside his larger-than-life father Michel Chapoutier at the eponymous empire – echoes how important vine age is for Viognier, much more so than Syrah or Marsanne, he says. He finds Viognier starts to produce fruit of significantly more complexity at 20-30 years of age, but the vines can also lose interest if they’re too old.   “The beauty of the balance of Viognier comes from its dry extract – from its bitterness,” he explained. It is, Chapoutier says, the hardest grape to pick – harvest too early and you won’t have the necessary dry extract, but harvest too late and the aromatics are too much. Ansellem also emphasised the importance of picking date: although you want to retain as much natural acidity as possible, you also need Viognier to be sufficiently ripe – and the window is getting smaller and smaller with climate change.  The challenge, as Philippe Guigal puts it, is to keep the richness, the full expression of Viognier, as well as its drinkability and salinity. He introduced a Champenois-style cycle, very long and slow, for their Condrieu – something that helps bring out the grape’s aromatics and structure, a concept echoed by both Ansellem and Chapoutier, working with Viognier’s natural thick skins. Chapoutier also highlighted the importance of oxygenising the must and then racking as little as possible, retaining the lees to help build on the grape’s “noble bitterness”.  Guigal is also particularly careful with fermentation temperatures, feeling it is key to keep ferments under 12°C to avoid any potentially heavy aromas.  It's that dry extract that allows top Condrieu to age so beautifully too. Chapoutier explains how he likes to wait at least five years before opening their Coteau de Chery, but it can age for 25, developing more layers of complexity – with notes of honey, lanolin, gingerbread and dried citrus peel. “A great Condrieu is a wine that doesn’t taste of Viognier,” he says.  Tasting through a flight of the region’s top wines last week was fascinating – from Chapoutier’s remarkably fresh, floral Coteau de Chery to the decadent yet mineral Coteau de Vernon from Georges Vernay. More than anything was perhaps seeing the response from those tasting – the wines far surpassing their stereotypical expectations. Not all the haters left lovers, but they certainly had a newfound respect for the style; and those that were already fans fell even harder for its charms.  There’s next to no room for further plantings in Condrieu, largely thanks to Georges Vernay’s efforts championing the region, and quality in the appellation is higher than ever before. The style of its heady wines will always be divisive – and perhaps that’s a good thing given how limited production of the best wines is. Its cool credentials may not quite have caught up yet, but it’s time to open up to the region’s opulent embrace – you won’t regret it.  Top Condrieu cuvées to look out for  Chapoutier’s Coteau de Chery: From a single parcel of vines between 40 and 80 years in age, this is aged entirely in old oak (larger, 600-litre casks). Production is tiny (often only two barrels) and goes almost exclusively to restaurants in France.  Georges Vernay’s Coteau de Vernon: This is just a stone’s throw (100m or so) from Vernay’s other single-vineyard, Les Chaillés de l’Enfer (literally meaning the terraces of hell, for its steep south-facing slopes). From the region’s most famous pioneer, the vines were planted in the 1930s and 1960s, in a natural amphitheatre, producing a profound expression of Viognier that ages beautifully.  Guigal’s La Doriane: Guigal’s top Condrieu is a blend of their top five parcels across the appellation, averaging 35 years in age, matured in 100% new oak – which is seamlessly integrated with the concentrated and powerful fruit.  Château-Grillet: The tiny monopole appellation covers 3.5 hectares of vines. Owned by the Artémis group (owners of Ch. Latour) since 2011, its wines are some of the most sought-after in the world, largely disappearing into wine lists.  Yves Gangloff’s Condrieu: Renowned for its voluptuous style, in all the best ways, this bottling from this famous winemaker is rightfully prized.  André Perret’s Chéry: Known also for their Clos Chanson cuvée, Chéry also comes from the Coteau de Chery, from a three-hectare plot of 70-year-old vines.  Ogier’s Les Vieilles Vignes de Jacques Vernay: Only 125 cases are made of this wine per year, making it incredibly hard to find.  Marie & Pierre Benetière’s Condrieu: Possibly even harder to find than their astounding Côte-Rôties, Pierre was inspired by and studied under Vernay before making his own wines.   Explore all current listings of Condrieu or read more Editorial 

The epitome of Viognier, Condrieu makes some of the world’s most remarkable wines – yet this appellation in the Northern Rhône came close to disappearing. Sophie Thorpe dives into its brush with fate and how producers manage Viognier’s natural hedonism to create wines that stand the test of time 

Condrieu’s wines are better than ever. We talk to Georges Vernay, Guigal and Chapoutier about the appellation’s comeback 

Condrieu’s comeback with Vernay, Guigal and Chapoutier 

Condrieu’s comeback 

En primeur is the system of buying unfinished, young wine, essentially as “futures”. The wines are sold while still maturing in barrel, and shipped once bottled to wine-lovers around the world. Bordeaux pioneered the system, and it remains important in the region, although en primeur has now spread and wines from Burgundy, the Rhône, Italy, the US, Australia and beyond are now all sold in this way. But how did it start? 
While consumers have only been purchasing wine en primeur since the 1980s, wine has been sold “unfinished” to merchants for centuries. Traditionally wine was not bottled or sold by the châteaux; once the wine went into barrel it would be transferred to négociants who would age the wine in their warehouses in the Chartrons district of Bordeaux, and be responsible for their sale and distribution – an unseemly business that didn’t sit well with the noble château-owners. The wine would then either be bottled in Bordeaux or shipped on in barrel to markets like the UK, and bottled for sale to consumers there. 
While Bordeaux might seem glossy and polished today, with its grand châteaux, manicured lawns and immaculate wineries, the region’s wine industry has not always been so prosperous. In the mid-19th century, mildew arrived and devastated much of Europe’s vineyards, followed by the arrival of phylloxera, killing vines and forcing producers to, eventually, replant. When winegrowers had recovered from Mother Nature’s attacks, the First and Second World Wars arrived, bringing further economic challenges. Producers needed ways to finance their operation, while merchants were always on the lookout for a way to secure stock and the best price possible. 
As producers struggled, they resorted to selling grapes while still on the vine, “sur souche”, agreeing a price based on the previous vintage and gambling on the final quality of the crop. Sur souche sales continued into the 1960s – eventually waning after producers were burnt by the low-yielding, excellent and woefully undervalued 1961s. When times were particularly hard, châteaux – even the most fabled addresses – committed to selling their crop for up to 10 years at a fixed price to a merchant, tying themselves into an “abonnement”, guaranteeing a base level of income, but losing out on potential profits if or when prices rose. 
Up to this point, early sales of wine (or grapes) had only been to négociants in Bordeaux, but the 1973 oil crisis prompted a shift. The subsequent crash left producers, négociants and every layer of the wine trade in dire need of funds. Having struggled to sell the 1972 vintage, châteaux didn’t have the money to invest in the production of the challenging ’73 and ’74 vintages. The 1975 growing season arrived with more favourable conditions and the wines showed promise; samples were shipped to London for buyers to sample and sell.  
En primeur really took off, however, with Bordeaux’s 1982 vintage. Robert Parker had started writing his newsletter in 1978, introducing the world to his 100-point rating system for wine. He came out early with a firm endorsement of the 1982s, and urging consumers to buy them; when others were less convinced. Many, especially in the US, took the opportunity to buy up the wines en primeur – and were duly rewarded, with the vintage now considered legendary. 
The early sale of the wines eased cash-flow problems for producers and négociants, while merchants and consumers benefited from being able to secure stock of wines at a favourable price. As en primeur sales grew, properties became much more profitable businesses, able to funnel investment back into their vineyards and wineries. At the same time, ownership of estates was shifting. In 1981, inheritance taxes doubled, making it harder for families to keep châteaux and companies – from insurance to luxury goods and everything in between started buying up properties. While some corporations focused on quantity rather than quality, many arrived with the necessary finances to push quality forward. The 1990s saw many estates introduce second wines, allowing them to further elevate quality of their Grand Vin, and Parker’s influence continued to grow. All of these elements combined to see Bordeaux as a region and its wines evolving at pace – giving even more reason to secure a new vintage up front. 
For consumers, en primeur provided a way to secure the most sought-after wines at the best prices. In top vintages, the wines offered significant returns too – and speculation ensued. The wine market expanded, with new interest from Japanese and Chinese buyers. The market exploded when Hong Kong abolished tax on wine in 2008. The frenzy built and prices rose – with the top-rated 2009 and 2010 vintages hitting new, inflated highs. En primeur no longer offered the safe return it had. The bubble burst. 
Châteaux, merchants and collectors were all stung, and there is now greater awareness of potential inflation in the market. This consciousness and understanding has settled the market and made en primeur relevant once more, although fortunately without the speculation of previous vintages. 
In 2012, Ch. Latour announced it was abandoning the en primeur system – deciding instead to offer wines only when they are ready to drink, with 2011 the last vintage to be offered as futures. It was a significant blow for en primeur to see a First Growth abandon the system, but while there was a fear this step could open the floodgates, no one else has yet followed the First Growth. 
Today, en primeur remains significant for Bordeaux. In April of each year, the world’s wine trade descends on Bordeaux to taste the latest vintage (harvested the previous year). Organised by the Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux, the “Primeurs” week is an impressive publicity machine, focusing attention on the region – and while the spotlight might be on the very top properties, there’s a clear halo effect for the entire region. 
There has been a move for estates to hold back a little more stock, some of which may be offered ex-château at a later date, but most Classed Growths still sell between 70 and 90% of their entire production en primeur.  
The benefits for Bordeaux and its châteaux are clear, but what is in it for those wanting to buy the wine? Many of the reasons to buy en primeur are unchanged. There are no guarantees that you’ll make a financial return with en primeur, but inevitably wines do become rarer with time; as wines enter their drinking window, they become more desirable (and often increase in value), and over time they become scarcer, as bottles are uncorked and the finite supply of a specific vintage dwindles. As such, en primeur can offer a useful way to secure stock of wines, particularly those from small, sought-after properties which can be near-impossible to obtain after release. 
Buying en primeur also offers flawless provenance. The wine will move from the estate to wherever you store your wine, and then once more when it is withdrawn for consumption, ensuring optimal maturation conditions, and retaining maximum value should you decide to sell rather than drink. An additional luxury of buying en primeur is being able to buy any format; as the wine isn’t yet bottled, you can purchase half-bottles, magnums, jeroboams, imperials or any other size you desire easily. 
While critic scores certainly still influence the sale of wines, no single voice has the power that Robert Parker had in his heyday. Today, there are more critics than ever before – with individual writers breaking away from larger publications like the Wine Advocate to create their own platform, each with their own tastes, offering different perspectives on the vintage – arguably giving consumers more information than ever before. 
It’s little surprise that other regions have adopted the system, with Burgundy in particular embracing en primeur. Opportunities undoubtedly remain – as a vintage like 2019, sold in the midst of 2020 and the Covid-19 pandemic shows. Faced with an uncertain market, producers dropped their prices and consumers flooded to buy Bordeaux’s wines. The vintage turned out to be spectacular, with buyers justly rewarded for investing in the wines. When a vintage is good, and the pricing right, there really is nothing like the palpable buzz and excitement that the Primeurs season brings to the world of wine.  
Find out more about en primeur, including how it works, or browse all wine currently available en primeur

Each year, key fine wine regions offer their wines en primeur, or as “wine futures”, but it hasn’t always worked this way. Sophie Thorpe dives into the origins and history of the system – and what it means for wine-lovers today

En primeur is the system of buying wine futures: we delve into its origins, history and what it means today for chateaux, negociants merchants and wine-lovers

What is en primeur? Explaining wine futures

What is en primeur: the origins of wine futures

2022 Vosne-Romanée, Premier Cru, Les Beaumonts, Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat This Premier Cru was an absolute standout of our tasting at Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat this year. The pretty nose combines star anise spice, floral lift and crushed rock. Powerfully mineral with such a suave, elegant palate, there is amazing delicacy to the almost smoky, savoury tannin structure, framing the pure, bright fruit. Pinpoint and precise, yet with a mouth-watering lushness, this is a very special wine in 2022. 2022 Vosne-Romanée, Premier Cru, Les Suchots, Nicole Lamarche Nicole Lamarche has 0.22 hectares at the southern end of this Premier Cru, close to Romanée Saint-Vivant, with vines that average 45 to 50 years in age. It is, as Nicole herself described it, “100% seduction”. The nose is sensuous, with sweet, plump berries, baking spice and iris florals, luring you in. On the palate, the delicacy and finesse is astounding. The bright acidity drives the wine, giving tension, yet there’s a luxurious nature the fruit that rolls around the mouth, a touch more generous than her other Vosne Premier Cru Les Chaumes. The tannins are rich, almost savoury, with a pure-rock character. Remarkable. 2022 Gevrey-Chambertin, Premier Cru, Lavaut Saint-Jacques, Domaine Duroché Duroché has 1.2 hectares of this cool, higher-altitude Premier Cru, with vines planted between 1923 and 1980, which is always the last to be picked. The 2022 is an absolute highlight of our tasting at this domaine, the cool site thriving in the warmth of the vintage. There’s instant gratification with an expressive nose layered with red and blue berry fruit and pepper spice. On the palate, it expands, bursting with juicy blueberries, smoky tones and black liquorice. It’s richly fruited, savoury and fresh, with a mineral line and chalky tannins that frame the mouth-watering fruit. Delicious. There’s around 15% whole-bunch this year. 2022 Chambertin, Grand Cru, Jean-Marie Fourrier As with Fourrier’s Latricières-Chambertin, this old-vine plot (a stately 70 years) is up against the Route des Grands Crus. The nose is instantly intoxicating with a violet perfume and depth of dark fruit that soars from the glass. The palate is concentrated, laden with sweet fruit, yet driven with remarkable finesse and freshness. Persistent and pure, with a weightless quality, this is another great wine from Jean-Marie.
 2022 Bâtard-Montrachet, Grand Cru, Domaine Faiveley Faiveley has a plot of 0.35 hectares here. The 2022 is an exceptional wine – with a nose that is waxy, chalky and creamy – but beneath these savoury and mineral aromas there is a wine of such density and fullness. There is layer upon layer of flavour here, working through from mineral tones, citrus and yellow-fleshed peach, grilled almonds, honeysuckle and creamy intensity. It flirts with fatness, the rich fruit rolling around the mouth luxuriously, yet there’s a pithy bite that brings it back from the edge – giving tension as the acidity drives on to a bright, sherbet-edged finish. 2022 Gevrey-Chambertin, Premier Cru, Les Goulots, Domaine Heresztyn-Mazzini This cool vineyard is at the top of the village, just north of Combe aux Moines and sitting above Champeaux. In 2022, it’s one of the most charming wines in Heresztyn-Mazzini’s line-up. They used 50% whole-bunch this year to bring more delicacy. It opens with sweet, ripe red fruit on the nose, but the palate is much more serious. The fruit is elegant and suave, with a brightness and transparency. The crushed raspberry and tart cherry is complemented by white-pepper spice and the fine-grained grip of chalky tannins. This site’s cooler position clearly thrived in 2022 – superb. 2022 Chambolle-Musigny, Premier Cru, Les Feusselottes, Maxime Cheurlin Noëllat This négoce bottling from Maxime Cheurlin (of Domaine Georges Noëllat) shone at our tasting – one of the finest Chambolles we tasted anywhere, in fact. The nose offers classic Chambolle perfume – a scented bouquet and bright, dainty, detailed berry fruit. On the palate, it manages to be both creamy and crunchy, with a sappy, mouth-watering freshness and intensely mineral backbone that drives on to the long, saline finish. Five barrels were produced. 2022 Marsannay, Au Champ Salomon, Domaine Charles Audoin Cyril Audoin and his father constantly debate which of Champ Salomon and Favières is the better plot in Marsannay. They’re both extremely impressive in 2022, although the Champ Salomon is offering more at this youthful stage. The nose is creamy, scented and sweet, enticing with plump strawberry and raspberry, then there’s a rush of juicy bright fruit that fills the palate – powerful, expansive, dark yet bright and crunchy berry fruit. There’s a pleasingly bitter, hickory-smoke edge, along with lifted peony and violet tones. Lush, juicy and hard to resist. 2022 Le Montrachet, Grand Cru, Remoissenet Père & Fils Remoissenet’s Montrachet is always a favourite of ours and it’s no different in 2022. The nose offers grilled almonds, acacia honey and gunflint – just hinting at what is to come. The palate is remarkably concentrated, layered with swathes of peachy fruit and lemon pith, with a zesty, flinty power. It’s immensely ripe and full, but still beautifully elegant, with freshness that balances the wine’s concentration. A wine that deserves time and will only get better in bottle. It’s all in one-year-old oak this year. 2022 Griotte Chambertin, Grand Cru, Charles van Canneyt From the smallest of the Chambertin Grands Crus, this is the pièce de resistance of Charles van Canneyt’s line-up in 2022. From a plot of vines that are over 80 years old, this is graceful, ethereal, sensual and persistent. It is absolutely complete, with notes of spice, bright red fruit, a touch of sweetness and something minty. There’s no doubt that this is a big wine – as a Grand Cru should be – but it’s medium-bodied, round and fresh with fine-grained tannins, and a long, suave finish full of raspberry and strawberry fruit. This is still young but what a wine – give it a decade before you crack a bottle, if you can resist. Four barrels were produced. 2022 Chablis, Grand Cru, Moutonne, Domaine Long-Depaquit, Albert Bichot In 2022, Domaine Long-Depaquit’s monopole Grand Cru captures the balance of the vintage. It is the most mineral-driven cuvée in the range, with an elegant nose than ranges from lemon zest to white blossom, over a layer of wet crushed rock. On the palate, the wine reveals superb concentration, and is much broader and richer structure than the nose suggests. A backbone of acidity drives towards a beautiful finish full of tension, with hints of salinity that makes you salivate. It will need a few years before it shows its potential. Unfortunately, a large part of the vineyard (the lowest part, neighbouring Fèvre) is being replanted and volumes this year are therefore smaller than we’d have liked. It is nonetheless a fantastic showing – and is undoubtedly our favourite Grand Cru from Long Depaquit in 2022. Drink 2028-2040. 2022 Puligny-Montrachet, La Rue aux Vaches, Alvina Pernot From a village parcel just below Les Pucelles and Clos des Meix, this is always so different to Clos des Noyers Brets – with fleshier fruit. It’s playful on the nose, with different facets and fruits emerging with air. It’s broader on the palate, revealing its proximity to Premier Cru territory. A fantastic showing, it’s the best edition of this wine to date. With only a barrel produced, it’s bottled exclusively in magnum.

The 2022 vintage in the Côte d’Or produced some wonderful wines – delicate, pretty and transparent Pinot Noir and concentrated, vibrant Chardonnay that will appeal to classic Burgundy-lovers. Of all the wines we’ve tasted so far, these are our favourites

Discover our top wines tasted from the Burgundy 2022 vintage so far – from up and down the Cote d’Or

Our favourite wines from Burgundy 2022

Burgundy 2022: our favourites

Burgundy is a mecca for lovers of fine Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, but, with its litany of producers and vineyards, it can be a tricky region to get to grips with. Here we offer an essential guide to the region – breaking down everything from how vineyards are classified to producers to look out for

Discover everything you need to know about Burgundy: from vineyards and producers to the difference between négociant and domaine or what a Grand Cru is

FINE+RARE: Your essential guide to Burgundy wine

Your essential guide to Burgundy

Andrew Jefford isn’t like other wine writers. Browse his Instagram account and you’ll find not a bottle in sight. Check his Twitter and you’ll find a steady, quiet stream of haiku – or, as he prefers to describe them, “short texts”. These feeds are – like Jefford –gently honest; absent of ego, flash and fanfare. His prose is poised and purposeful, each word carefully considered yet never weighed down by pointed effort. He is a rarity in the world of wine: a writer whose (main) topic happens to be wine.  “I was always a huge reader. It always meant more to me than anything else,” Jefford tells me, thinking back to his childhood. But wine was omnipresent. As the son of a priest, it was a part of family life, consumed “on high days and holidays”.   “I remember first tasting Champagne with my brother, at the age of 10 or 11,” he says. “It was the first tasting note we agreed on: it tasted like vomit. Things got better from then on, happily.” The slight, wiry wine writer smiles, seeming almost sheepish about the wines that he’s since enjoyed.  Aged 16, Jefford decided to start making wine – brewing up grape juice concentrate and whatever else he could find– to supplement supplies at Sunday lunch. The transformative effects of fermentation hooked him – but it was the concept of terroir that reeled him fully in.  He was working at a local hospital, but after his shift – armed with The Penguin Book of Wines and André Simon’s A Wine Primer – he’d venture out to browse the shelves of “French Wine Farmers”, a wine shop in Norwich. He vividly recalls taking home a bottle of Chianti and being struck by the magic of travelling through a glass. “That’s full of wine. And every drop in there came from a vine in Tuscany. I’m drinking Tuscany!” he recalls thinking.“ And I’ve still not got over that. It’s amazing.”  Wine took a back seat when he set off to study English at the University of Reading, before embarking on both a Masters and PhD. The lure of words led him into publishing – a background which, along with his academic approach, defines his writing today. He spent four years “editing mediocre copy into something readable” – but eventually had had enough, and leapt at the chance to write a book on Port.  From there, he wrote articles for Margaret Rand in Wine Magazine, then Decanter, where he’s now a Contributing Editor and his monthly column is the stuff of legend. He was, for a number of years,The Evening Standard’s drinks writer, penned features for The Financial Times and is a regular in The World of Fine Wine. He’s authored several books – including the deservedly totemic The New France. Published in 2002, it looked beyond Burgundy and Bordeaux, shining a light on the nation’s varied wine scene at a moment when it was going through a revolution. If that wasn’t enough, he’s dabbled in radio, presenting for BBC Radio Three and Four.   While wine might be his mainstay, he’s written extensively on whisky and other spirits (including his respected book on Islay, Peat Smoke and Spirit), as well as travel and perfume. But writing, rather than any particular topic, is his real trade. His editorial experience has been key: his prose is intelligent, considered and a masterclass in eloquent economy – something that he finds all too often lacking elsewhere.   Two of Jefford's most famous books: The New France (2002) and Peat Smoke and Spirit (2004) “One of the problems is that a lot of [wine writing] is online, so there aren’t space constraints,” he decries. “[Wine writing] tends to attract quite large egos. They do write three times more than they need to – because they think it’s all wonderful.” It’s perhaps the lack of ego in Jefford’s writing that sets it apart. He seems to approach any topic unbiased and open – still with the wide-eyed joy of that first bottle of Chianti. Wine remains, to him, “dead exciting”.   “It’s a great shame that fairly early on the rest of the journalistic world decided that wine was a ghetto,” Jefford laments. “It embraced wine with gusto initially – probably in the 1990s – then it all got very boring once we passed 2000 and they just asked everybody to offer recommendations and that’s it. Newspapers are no longer a great school for wine writing in the way that they once were.” It is an industry, he feels, sorely in need of imagination. “There’s such a weight of detail to communicate that people never get their head above the waves of the detail.” And that detail, the intricacies of wine – or “its enormous apparatus of geekdom” – are the challenge. He hopes that his latest book, Drinking with the Valkyries – a collection of his work from the last 15 years, “could climb out of the wine ghetto – to anybody who enjoys language, enjoys storytelling, enjoys the interrelation of place and flavour that wine can offer”.  But, by his own admission, wine is “never going to be a mass market popular subject”. While the industry was long obsessed with finding its own “Jamie Oliver” – someone to bring wine to the masses, food is an essential part of life – “whereas wine need be a part of nobody’s life”.   Wine has, undoubtedly, come a long way – “vastly democratised” – but he worries about the “top end of things”, where wine has become so exclusive as to be “almost a plutocracy”. Wine criticism, for him, is intricately linked to the category’s self-imposed segregation, with “its relentless focus on points, excellence and things being better than other things – hierarchy, rather than difference”.  He’s long been vocal about scoring, feeling like Hugh Johnson that – although they may be of practical use to consumers, who undoubtedly want them – they are “philosophically untenable” and “disempowering”.  “You’re being misled to some extent if you think the 96-point wine is always better than the 94-point wine. It’s miles more complicated than that,” says Jefford, who scores wines reluctantly.“ And very often the 89-point wine can be better than either the 96- or 94-point wine.” His advice to wine drinkers is simple: “Trust your palate.”  Despite his impressive resume and effortless intellect, Jefford’s modesty shines through in our conversation – as we dash from the dangers of climate change (“Misery throughout the Third World – but the Bordelais and Bourguignons are raking it in”) to a fascinating co-fermented 15-variety blend from a Lirac estate (Ch. de Montfaucon’s Vin de Mr le Baron). And while the 66-year-old might be softly pensive in the written – and spoken – word, there’s such energy to the man himself.  He’s invariably described as a wine thinker, a philosopher-cum-writer, as well as – of course – a poet; but it’s impossible to pigeon-hole Jefford, his ideas, or his voice.  Andrew Jefford’s book Drinking with the Valkyries, published by Académie du Vin Library, is out now.

Andrew Jefford is one of the world’s greatest wine writers. As his latest book – Drinking with the Valkyries – is released, Sophie Thorpe caught up with the wordsmith to talk about his career so far, the art of writing and why he’s so against scoring 

Andrew Jefford – one of the world’s most famous wine writers – on his career, the art of writing and why he’s so against scoring wine

Sitting down with wine writer Andrew Jefford

Andrew Jefford: wielding words

2021 RICHEBOURG, GRAND CRU, DOMAINE HUDELOT-NOËLLAT From a mere 0.28 hectares, this is a seductive and regal Grand Cru in 2021. The aristocracy of this site shines through, with haunting perfume and sumptuous depths to the sweet fruit. It’s elegant yet rich, with nuanced, smoky tones and outstandingly fine tannins that add texture to the long and plush palate of this very fine Pinot Noir. A remarkable wine. 2021 LATRICIÈRES-CHAMBERTIN, GRAND CRU, DOMAINE DAVID DUBAND Duband’s Latricières comes from a 0.3-hectare plot of 60-year-old vines in the Grand Cru, sandwiched between plots that belong to Leroy and Chantal Rémy. In 2021 it’s spicy and perfumed – the wine leaping out of the glass. Florals, pepper and incense mingle with bright yet delicate crushed raspberry fruit. Silken and fine-boned, this is beautifully elegant, with a long mineral finish. 2021 CHAMBOLLE-MUSIGNY, PREMIER CRU, LES CHARMES, REMOISSENET PÈRE & FILS This pretty Chambolle combines predictable florals and sweet strawberry with an almost blackcurrant note. The palate is lush and long, with chalky structure and crushed-raspberry fruit. It’s a wine, however, that is all about its finesse – effortless and fine-boned Pinot Noir. 2021 BEAUNE, PREMIER CRU, LES TUVILAINS, DOMAINE GEORGES NOËLLAT Maxime Cheurlin’s range is charming in 2021 – and this was a particular highlight. The nose is bright, with raspberry lift and brightness – but it’s concentrated and pure. A wave of soft, crushed wild strawberry washes over the palate – bright and pure, yet with a darker edge to it. The tannins are powdered and fine, adding the slightest grip to the palate. The finish is long and savoury. 2021 MOREY-SAINT-DENIS, PREMIER CRU, LES SORBÉS, CHARLES VAN CANNEYT Charles van Canneyt’s line-up this year is superb. This Morey-Saint-Denis Premier Cru with free-draining soils produced a silken wine. The fruit here is dark yet bright, with a beautiful density to the palate – a vivid concentration and mouth-watering freshness, building to a crunchy, red-fruited finish. 
2021 CLOS DE LA ROCHE, GRAND CRU, OLIVIER BERNSTEIN From vines that average 50 years in age, this offers incredible density – especially in 2021. The nose is pure dark cherry, not revealing much at this nascent stage. Like a gawky teenager, it’s waiting to reveal its potential, but the palate offers glimpses of what lies ahead – with smoky, savoury tones, fine – almost Italianate – dusty, tannins and bright juicy red fruit, building towards an elegant, nuanced finish. Impressive. 
 

2021 CLOS DES LAMBRAYS, GRAND CRU, DOMAINE DES LAMBRAYS Domaine des Lambrays’s flagship site is almost but not quite a monopole, with an ouvrée – less than 0.2 of the total 8.84 hectares – at the bottom of the clos belonging to Taupenot-Merme. Yields here were slashed in half in 2021, not helped by now farming biodynamically. Most of the vines (71%) date from between 1898 and 1935, while the lowest section of the vineyard is 40 years old, and 3% of the vines are spritely 20-somethings that are currently de-classified. It is fascinating tasting three sections of this large Grand Cru separately and then all the parcels as a blend, seeing how each one contributes its own character. We started with the firm, linear Plante Bas, then the more expressive, prettier Cerisiers on the Clos de Tart side, and the intense, powerful 50 Ouvrées. Combined, the result is intense, silken and long. It’s round but focused, with incredible energy and the finest texture. Gorgeous floral perfume adds a lightness to the fruit – an explosion of red cherry that fills the palate, making it seem approachable even now. A fresh, herbal twist makes the finish utterly moreish. 2021 PULIGNY-MONTRACHET, PREMIER CRU, CLOS DE LA MOUCHÈRE, DOMAINE HENRI BOILLOT Boillot’s four-hectare monopole Clos de la Mouchère is always a favourite – the shame in 2021 is that he made less than 20% of the normal production of this flagship wine. This sub-section of Perrières produces a particularly honeyed expression of the site. It’s a real step up and contrast to the already impressive village Puligny, with intense and powerful fruit expression. Cooked apricot, white peach and Amalfi lemon peel leap out of the glass, yet on the palate it’s incredibly tightly wound – with a concentrated core that will need time to reveal itself fully. The acidity here is exhilarating, driving through the fruit to a saline finish lifted by a sherbet freshness.  2021 BIENVENUES BÂTARD-MONTRACHET, GRAND CRU, ALVINA PERNOT In 2021, this is laden with generous, almost heady fruit – peach and pineapple making for a voluptuous wine that envelops you. It’s creamy and layered on the palate with incredible texture that builds with sweet spice adding complexity. It’s concentrated, full and rich with real Grand Cru concentration. Only two barrels made.  2021 CORTON CHARLEMAGNE, GRAND CRU, DOMAINE FAIVELEY The Corton Charlemagne was the last wine of our tasting at Faiveley this year – and what a way to finish. They managed to harvest just 12hl/ha from this site, one that normally is never hit by frost, yet was in 2021. The resulting wine is beautifully concentrated, with a chalky, bright citrus nose. It’s open and sunny, yet also taut – with a line of vibrant, limey acidity that runs through the entire length of the wine. The citrus fruit is complemented by light, honeyed notes and white blossom. 
Browse all available Burgundy or read more about the vintage 

The 2021 vintage in the Côte d’Or produced some wonderful wines – perfumed Pinot Noir and taut Chardonnay, wines that will appeal to classic Burgundy-lovers. Of all the wines we’ve tasted so far, these are our 10 favourites 

Discover our top 10 wines tasted from the Burgundy 2021 vintage so far – from up and down the Cote d’Or

Our favourite wines from Burgundy 2021

Burgundy 2021: our favourites

Quiet, even subdued, cautious, the Neal Martin on my screen is quite different to the garrulous character I’d imagined from his writing. On the page (or more often these days, the screen), Martin pokes fun at the wine industry, his articles often opening with satirical fiction that doesn’t hold back.  His reports and tasting notes are littered with music references (think Primal Scream and The Smiths rather than Wagner and Bach), and mentions that are sometimes pointedly popular – his first Bordeaux en primeur report for the Wine Advocate (taking over from Robert Parker) opened with a line from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. On our call, however, each word feels deliberate and considered, confident, but with a definite wariness that doesn’t quite fade.  Aged 50, the Vinous writer’s trajectory to wine stardom is unusual. Born in Essex, Martin grew up in a household that didn’t drink wine, so nor did he. In fact, he had no interest in it and blagged his way into the industry. In 1996, having lived in Japan, he applied for a role sourcing wines for a subsidiary of Japan Airlines: the only hitch that he didn’t know anything about wine at the time.  “I lied my way through the interview. I went to an off-licence the night before. Memorised some of the labels. I just reeled off a couple of names… [they] thought I was into wine and gave me the job,” he tells me, still rather bemused by their decision. Coincidentally Martin returned to the same shop last year, where unbeknown to him, his tale lives on as local offy legend – the famous wine taster that got his start right there in Leigh-on-Sea (with the owners even deeming him worthy of several selfies).  Unashamedly a terrible employee, he spent much of his time in his role for Japan Airlines starting his wine writing career (although it also sounds like there was a fair amount of lunching too). “I was kind of bored one lunchtime, bought a book on computer coding. I found I could make a webpage, and just kind of built the original wine-journal.com when I should have been working,” he says. From the novelty of creating a site, he started writing his own tasting notes. At that time the great wine writers were Michael Broadbent, Steven Spurrier and Hugh Johnson – English gentlemen, in short; charming, wonderful, but – for many – unrelatable, very “high culture”, as Martin puts it. He set out to be “more down-to-earth, funny, irreverent”.   “At the time, there was nobody else really doing that. There was this huge audience that liked to drink Bordeaux – but also liked Radiohead.” It struck a chord – and soon his self-built site was getting over 500,000 hits per month. No wonder therefore that in 2006 Robert Parker – then still at the height of his fame – approached the music-minded Englishman to join the Wine Advocate team.   Of course, Parker was renowned for not just the power of his palate and revolutionary points system, but for his personal tastes. Many argue that his preference for intensely ripe, high-octane, new-oak-aged styles shifted the entire world of wine – pushing producers to craft wines that would earn his favour. “Especially more to the end of his career, he had a certain palate… but people always forget that he reviewed German wines and Alsace and so on. So it becomes a little bit of a cliché,” Martin says of his once mentor.  The world of flavour is undeniably subjective, yet Parker was – by some – damned for just that, daring to express his personal preference. Total impartiality when it comes to the matter of taste seems impossible. After I ask whether or not he feels there’s room for bias in wine writing, Martin is clear: “I think a critic should stand up for what they believe in. Anyone can say the First Growths are great, DRC is great. I’d rather read someone who has a definite view on something, whether they like natural wines, or orange wines. Stand up for what you believe in. Then it’s up to the reader to decide.”  In fact, he goes as far to say, it’s potentially the lack of difference in views that has led to wine criticism becoming “a bit beige” in recent years – because now it’s a career, something upon which people depend for their livelihood. “It’s more of a risk if you say this famous name didn’t produce a great wine,” Martin notes. The danger of losing access to wines that are far beyond most critics’ budgets is a threat to the independence of wine writing, but also a massive obstacle to new voices in the industry. It’s an especial challenge given many of the wines Martin reviews – in particular older vintages – might only be pulled out at private dinners, hosted in producers’ homes. The very nature of wine – limited in production and fleeting in its consumption – leads to a reliance on the hospitality of its makers. Martin argues that for that exact reason the most independent “critics” are arguably those he describes as the “grands amateurs” – those who can afford to buy the world’s finest wines, and therefore say what they want.   Martin, however, feels there’s a line to be found where he can maintain distance yet be friendly – and, importantly, speak freely. He highlights Laurent Ponsot’s 2015s – which he gave relatively scathing scores – but, having known Laurent for many years, Martin was happy to tell the vigneron outright that he thought they were picked too late.  As for Martin, he had a lucky start with access to unbelievable wines in what he deems a “golden era” for fine wine in the 1990s, when top Burgundy and First Growths remained affordable for the many – and were poured freely by the trade. “I’ve never taken that for granted. Some of the wines I drink… they’re what my friends earn in three or four months. I never drink a wine and I’m blasé about it. But I’ve been around long enough to say what I think.”   Preserving his voice has always been of key importance to Martin – not willing to compromise on keeping his distinctively tongue-in-cheek tone, but also offer something more than just a tasting note. “When I joined Parker, it was an easy decision – he was a kind of god. But at the same time I wanted to make sure I could still write in the way I wrote,” he tells me. “Anyone can taste the wines and add a number, but for me it’s more interesting to create something that’s interesting, gives you insight… that’s the challenge: to write something people don’t expect,” Martin says. Does he feel he’s achieving that? His answer: “When my primeur report comes out, read the first three paragraphs and let me know.” [We spoke at the end of April, just before the report was published.]  For Martin, his love of music is integral to his work. Indeed, it seems that way – the record player and stacks of vinyl visible behind him on our Zoom call, his Instagram feed almost equally split between sleeve covers and labels – and he feels that it makes him a better writer. He looks back to Hugh Johnson (an avid gardener) or Michael Broadbent (pianist and art enthusiast) for precedent. “Wine can be a boring subject – but it’s when you put it with other things that it becomes more interesting,” he says.  Case in point is his recent article on Grand Mayne, he tells me: “It’s more about time, and parenthood, and… kind of sad in a way. To me, that’s the kind of counterbalance to the dryness about wine. It smells of strawberries and it’s 92 points. There’s the other side to the story – that’s the harder part to write, but for me it’s more satisfying.”  Indeed, he even self-published his book Pomerol (in 2012) to avoid the unwelcome interference of editors. In 2017, Martin made the leap to Vinous – joining fellow Wine Advocate alumnus Antonio Galloni’s new venture, and while he’s kept his voice, he’s also had to learn how to be edited “which was… quite a challenge for me at first,” he admits. “But actually now it’s something I really needed. I think they make better articles, it makes me think a bit more about writing.”  There have been a lot of bottles over the years (Vinous alone holds over 21,000 of his tasting notes), but it was a bottle of 1982 Montrose that started everything. “It wasn’t the best wine I’ve ever had by a long way… It’s a disappointing 1982,” he says. “Enjoy with modest expectations” reads his note from 2017 (88 points – upgraded to 91 points at his most recent tasting in 2018). Disappointing it may be, but it’s the bottle that made him sit up and take wine seriously, realising why people obsessed over it – although he’s clear that, for him, wine isn’t everything.  “Wine is my job – if it didn’t pay I couldn’t do it. I love wine, but I don’t think I’m obsessed with it. I don’t drink wine every day, and it doesn’t bother me if I don’t. If you think wine is everything, you’re missing something,” he says, frankly. I wonder how much this perspective has been shaped by Martin’s quadruple bypass surgery two years ago – a skirmish with the other side that has forced a visibly drastic lifestyle change, and about which he has been vocal.  In Martin’s own words, it’s a “bizarre set of circumstances” that set him on his wine-lined path, yet here he is, his pen and palate working in combination to make him one of the world’s most influential wine writers. While the golden era that allowed him to enter the industry might be over, he feels that – despite now being “very, very expensive” – in some ways wine is more accessible than ever.  “I meet so many more people from so many walks of life. I love it when you sit around the table and everyone’s from different countries. But as soon as you put a wine in front of them – everyone’s on the same level.” While one can’t argue that Martin champions the “everyman” reviewing the world’s finest wines, it’s remarkable in many ways that he hasn’t erred from his original purpose. Though the Essex-born critic doesn’t seem comfortable under the spotlight, on the page he’s at ease – free to fight against the pomposity of wine, with an irreverence and knowing self-ridicule that has put him front and centre in the industry – whether he likes it or not.  Read more Editorial 

Neal Martin – now of Vinous, previously the Wine Advocate – is one of the world’s leading wine writers. Sophie Thorpe talks to the determinedly off-beat critic about his path into wine and why there’s much more to life than brilliant bottles

Neal Martin – now of Vinous, previously the Wine Advocate – on his path into wine and why there’s much more to life than brilliant bottles

Neal Martin, striking a chord

Neal Martin: striking a chord

There are few people that get to taste Bordeaux as often or as thoroughly as the Wine Advocate Editor-in-Chief Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW. Based in Napa, her knowledge of how the Bordeaux varieties are managed – both in Bordeaux’s moderate climate and the hotter region of Napa – has become a huge asset in understanding and assessing Bordeaux in a warming climate. With such exposure to vintages past and present, being mentored by the world’s most influential critic Robert Parker, there’s no one better to consider what defines Bordeaux today.  Perrotti-Brown has a clear idea of how and why Bordeaux has changed so much in the last 20 years, while at the same time emphasising that there’s no “hard stop” to an era. An individual château’s period of change can be different to its neighbours. “It seems like every château has had its challenging period,” she says, “whether it be a dogmatic winemaker, recurring faults in the winery or even financial difficulties.” Each era of Bordeaux is not simply defined by set vintages, however – with the benefit of hindsight – she believes you can see clear, defining moments over the last two decades where the style of Bordeaux has changed. Like much of the wine world in the 1980s and ’90s, Bordeaux châteaux were still understanding the effects of faults in their wines – whether it be volatile acidity, dissolved oxygen or Brettanomyces. With increased emphasis on ripeness and new oak, these issues only increased. “Brett and other faults love new oak and higher alcohol, it was almost a perfect storm,” she explains. But as this became more of an issue in the region, it led to more research, bringing about a much better technical understanding of why these things were happening. It was this scientific awakening that Perrotti-Brown believes was the catalyst for the modern era. “Momentum for change has sped up in the last 20 years and there have been lots of triggers,” she says. “There is a better understanding of what ripeness is, precision viticulture and winemaking, the development of technology and of course there is climate change.” But outside this and perhaps the most important “trigger” behind this change, she believes, is money. “To run a château has become very expensive: 30 or 40 years ago many of these châteaux were simply operating as agriculturalists, now it is a multi-million-dollar business.” Big money has no doubt brought about big investment and Perrotti-Brown believes in many ways it has “levelled the playing field”. A lack of investment in the winery and vineyard is now a rare excuse for poor performance. “It has raised the standard throughout the region. Investment and greater precision has created a lot of diversity – more than we have ever seen before.” In terms of taste, the most positive developments in Bordeaux for Perrotti-Brown come from the vigneron’s better understanding of ripeness, both in terms of tannin ripeness and fruit concentration. “Hindsight is a beautiful thing,” she quips, “but we have seen dark periods on both sides of the spectrum in Bordeaux.” There were real issues with lack of ripeness through much of the 1970s and ’80s. High production levels saw diluted grapes harvested and simply chaptalized (sugar added) to bring up the alcohol, then at fermentation, the must was overworked to extract enough colour and tannins. Since top Bordeaux was known for its long ageing potential, this was necessary to create the structure to age – “Otherwise you were going to end up with a diluted, watery mess,” explains Perrotti-Brown. This extended maceration saw the extraction of very hard tannins – “the wrong sort of tannins that come at a later stage of extraction”. “It is better extraction techniques, only extracting quality tannins, that is a major reason behind the most recent improvements,” Perrotti-Brown explains. She points to the legendary 1982 vintage. “A lot of people at the time were saying the tannins of the ’82s were too soft, too juicy, too fruity and it just wasn’t true.” The vintage was warm, particularly for that era. “At harvest the vignerons were picking grapes with a natural ripeness to the tannins, which meant during extraction the tannins and colour came easily.” They didn’t have to overwork the grapes to extract the tannins, producing wines that were great in their youth and have since aged incredibly well. It was the quality, not quantity, of tannins that stood the 1982s in such good stead, a lesson that wasn’t necessarily learnt instantly. Overworking the musts and a lack of concentration continued to be commonplace throughout much of the ’80s and ’90s. Many wines were hugely extracted and required plenty of patience. “You compare that with now,” she says. “I was discussing the 2020 vintage with Ch. Margaux’s Philippe Bascaules – and he barely needed to touch the grapes during extraction.” At better ripeness levels (as seen in 2020), the colour and tannins extract themselves. In the mid-90s to early 2000s, however, there was “a chase for ripeness”, in Perrotti-Brown’s words. “It was the beginning of the garagiste era – with reductions in yield, later picking and an emphasis on power. You had super low yields, producing behemoth, impenetrable wines in their youth, 200% new oak etc – people were really pushing the boundaries.” It is a style that is seen by many as actively encouraged by Perrotti-Brown’s mentor Robert Parker, who at this point was arguably the most influential man in Bordeaux. The incredibly hot 2003 vintage marked a watershed moment for Bordeaux. “Bordeaux winemakers had never seen anything like it. Grapes were turning to raisins on the vine,” Perrotti-Brown says. Despite the year’s conditions which exposed the push toward ripeness, the emphasis on power continued up until the 2010 vintage. Despite the focus on ripeness and extraction, there were some exceptional vintages – but Perrotti-Brown questions how well these wines have since aged. This is, in her view, a key shift in the region. She compares tasting the 2005s en primeur, with tasting the vintages of today. While 2005 was clearly a fantastic vintage, tasting these wines so young was really difficult, with aggressive tannins. Many winemakers were, Perrotti-Brown says, “making wines by formula”. A high-quality vintage gave vignerons a free ride to push the extraction even more. The criticism often made of 2005 is that it has taken such a long time to come around. Similar issues are raised with the same vintage in Burgundy. The year was at the height of the trend for maximum ripeness and extraction, for both Bordeaux and Burgundy, and the resulting wines shut down for a long period. Perrotti-Brown accepts that people have different expectations on when to drink Bordeaux, but she loves to drink wine in its mid-life, when there is both primary fruit and tertiary development. The problem with the 2005s, she says, is that that window never really opened: the wines remained closed, only beginning to open up now, when there is little primary fruit left. “Many of the ’05s are, wow, exceptional now, but you miss that sweet fruit and it’s what I like about the modern vintages,” she says. Looking back, “Winemakers could have dealt with 2005 much more wisely.” The 2009 vintage provides an interesting contrast. Like the ’82s, the natural ripeness of the tannins meant the wines didn’t shut down in the same way the 2005s did. Of course, higher levels of alcohol also helped increase the potential tannin extraction. Alcohol is a solvent. Increased ripeness, which in turn leads to higher alcohol levels, can therefore lead to too much phenolic extraction. While this was a risk for many wines in the early 2000s, fortunately today’s winemakers know much more about how to handle riper fruit. The 2010 vintage might have been the last year of big, bold, extracted wines, it was nature rather than the Bordelais that dictated the change, Perrotti-Brown notes. The ’11, ’12, ’13 and ’14 vintages meant winemakers had to deal with cooler, more difficult vintages. It was not possible to produce bold wines in these vintages and retain balance. This was almost a period of introspection for Bordeaux and, for Perrotti-Brown, it led to a distinctive development where “the ethos of precision” took charge from the 2015 vintage. While there are of course exceptions, from 2015 Perrotti-Brown feels you started to see more plot-by-plot management of the vineyard, with picking times becoming much more accurate – picking plots and fermenting them separately, “rather than throwing everything together”. Extraction also became much more precise, focusing on only the quality tannins – a marked change from the previous era. This new ethos brought, in Perrotti-Brown’s view, a lot of “soul-searching” in the vineyard, with people like Alfred Tesseron spearheading a movement toward more sustainable practices. But overall, Perrotti-Brown notes, “There is so much creativity too and many people are doing different things. It has created a lot of diversity.” Amongst the creative changes happening in the winery and vineyard, developments in the wine’s élevage always seems to be a big talking point in Bordeaux. Oak is an integral part of the Bordeaux “recipe”, but – after an over-reliance in the 2000s – its use was becoming increasingly scrutinised. “Oak doesn’t ever go,” she says. “It settles down, integrates and evolves with the fruit, but it can push itself forward.” “Oak is absolutely necessary for giving shape and spice to the fruit, as well as tannic interest to the wine,” says Perrotti-Brown: for her, it’s about oak being used “smartly”. “Most people have pulled back on the new oak from the 2015 vintage onwards, but, like the tannins, it is not about more or less oak, but about using it more wisely. There is a much better understanding of oak today and much better quality of oak being used. What it lends to the tannin structure is a nice back up to the skin tannins and a spiciness in the background.” The new era – from 2015 onwards – is certainly contributing to Bordeaux being “on a good run”, in Perrotti-Brown’s words. But while there is great consistency today, she’s under no impression there won’t be problems ahead. “Warm, dry vintages have become the norm, but how warm and how dry before this becomes an issue? Bordeaux was lucky in 2020 that they got a bit of rain in August,” she says. While a lot has changed over the last 20 years in Bordeaux, there are no guarantees for the future. No matter the technology, Bordeaux’s fate lies in the hands of the shifting climate – and terroir, or more specifically the clay or limestone soils equipped to deal with hot, dry conditions, has never been so important. For now at least, though, Bordeaux is basking in its era of precision, with 2020 the third great vintage in a row. Let’s hope Mother Nature holds the region in her favour a little longer. Read our summary of Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW's report (including the wines she rated most highly) in our round-up of the critics’ verdict on the vintage Find out more about Bordeaux or read more Editorial 

No doubt that the style of Bordeaux has shifted over the past two decades. But what’s caused the change – and are the wines better? We sat down with one of the world’s most influential wine writers, Wine Advocate Editor-in-Chief Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW, to delve into what defines modern Bordeaux

The Wine Advocate’s Editor-in-Chief Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW on 20 years of change in Bordeaux – and what defines modern Bordeaux

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