Wine journalists are jaded folk – spoilt by too many impressive tastings, lunches and dinners. But when Champagne Louis Roederer invites you to an event celebrating 50 years of Cristal Rosé, few refuse. Cristal Rosé is, as Chef de Cave Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon told us, still “a hidden gem” and the rarest cuvée Roederer produces. It’s not often shown, and even visitors to the estate don’t get to taste the wine.  While Cristal – Champagne’s first prestige cuvée – was created in 1876, its pink sibling was born almost a century later. It was Jean-Claude Rouzaud, current CEO Frédéric Rouzaud’s father, who created the wine, aged 32. He had been managing the company’s vineyards and took over the winemaking in 1974.  “His great vision was to put the vines back in the centre of the creative process,” explains seventh-generation Frédéric Rouzaud. For Roederer, site and farming have long been key to what they do (long operating both as a grower and négociant), but Jean-Claude’s move from vineyard to cellar pushed this further, allowing for – as Lécaillon put it – “a creative and constant dialogue between the vineyard and cellar”.  The same year that he started leading the cellar team, Jean-Claude decided to make a rosé version of Cristal. Almost all rosé Champagne was – and is – made by blending a still red wine in with the base white wines. Jean-Claude, however, wanted to use co-fermentation to keep the wine in the style of Cristal, a decision that Lécaillon says was key, making the wine more ethereal, precise and “Pinot-y”, with a juicier texture.  The wine was built around parcels of Pinot Noir in the Bonottes area of Aÿ, which Lécaillon describes as the “Musigny” of Champagne. In his mind, the Pinot Noir from these plots offers a “special tannic complexity” – tannins that are more saline, integrated and aromatic; the Pinot Noir here is, he says, “effortlessly perfect” and the heart of Cristal Rosé. These three vineyards (Bonotte Pierre Robert, Gargeotte and Côte du Moulin) had been used for Cristal since the 1870s, and more recently became the source for Pinot Noir material for their vine nursery – with 150 different massal selections taken from the plots – long recognised for their quality.  The three original Pinot Noir plots are now being replanted and – while the vines mature – another site in Aÿ, La Villers, a mid-slope parcel at higher altitude, is currently being used in the blend (from the 2018 vintage). It is set to form part of the wine long-term, its cooler position thought to be of particular benefit with climate change. Complementing the 55% Pinot Noir is Chardonnay from two sites – Pierre Vaudon in Avize (bringing more power and richness) and Montmartin in Le Mesnil (lending length, salinity and a chalky minerality).  The first two vintages (1974 and 1975) were more experimental, as Jean-Claude figured the wine and style out, but the third attempt in 1976 produced something special – with sufficient phenolic ripeness to produce a rosé truly worthy of the Cristal name. Even now, 48 years later, that wine is singing – combining savoury rye and brown miso notes with pear tarte tatin and an earthy power. While it had a flurry of three vintages at the start of its life, just 25 vintages of Cristal Rosé have been produced to date. The wine needs a year where not only the quality of fruit is outstanding, but the Pinot Noir and Chardonnay ripen at the same time – allowing for their co-fermentation – something that is relatively rare.  Only made with vines that are minimum 20 years old, yields are low for Champagne (at 35-40hl/ha).  The Pinot Noir is destemmed, crushed and left to macerate. Earlier vintages saw this happen over two to four days and at warmer temperatures, but the winemaking has evolved over the years, with a pivotal shift from the 2008 vintage. From 2008. Lécaillon started chilling the Pinot Noir down to -4̊C overnight, prior to de-stemming and crushing the fruit – something which he believes avoids extracting any green character.   The must is then left to cold-soak for between seven and 10 days, with no punch-downs or pump-overs – a true “infusion” (to avoid any microbial spoilage, they cover it with dry ice for the first four days, then use nitrogen). The must isn’t chilled during this time, and the temperature gradually rises to a maximum 8-9̊C. Moving to a cold-soak was inspired by an accident. In the warm 1989 vintage, Lécaillon’s first year at Roederer, they didn’t have a cooling system in the cellar, and the Pinot Noir was left in a reefer – undergoing an inadvertent cold-soak. The resulting wine was so good that it inspired Lécaillon.  Just as the fermentation starts, the must is racked off and blended with the Chardonnay which has been whole-bunch pressed pneumatically (Lécaillon argues the grape’s reductive nature needs a little skin contact to avoid being overly thiol-driven and Sauvignon-esque). Around 20% of the base wine sees oak. After secondary fermentation (under crown cap, something with Lécaillon argues helps preserve precision and terroir versus cork), the wine spends eight years on its lees, developing immense complexity.  “Since 1974, it has been our laboratory of farming, of winemaking,” says Jean-Baptise Lécaillon of the wine. Cristal Rosé was in fact the House’s first cuvée to be farmed biodynamically, and the first biodynamic prestige cuvée in Champagne, from the 2007 vintage. He explains that he is looking for phenolic ripeness, integrated with the salinity of Champagne, seamlessly combining the tannins and acidity; a wine complemented – but not dominated – by bubbles of salt.  The wine is undeniably remarkable. Tasting through a range of vintages from 1976 to the present day, all in magnum (find full tasting notes below), the vibrancy, purity and moreish, saline, minerality of these wines left me speechless. Their ability to age is effortless, with the 1989, for example, still tasting incredibly youthful. Talking about Cristal Rosé’s evolution, Lécaillon explains that he finds the first decade is all about fruit, but then the wines return to their site and soil, becoming wines of place. Conversation strays into weather Champagne today, with global warming, can still make wines that will age as beautifully.  “Champagne is not just about acid; it’s about freshness,” says Lécaillon. He points to the 1976 and 1989 vintages – both incredibly hot years, with the fruit picked at almost 12% potential alcohol and modest acidity levels – and yet the wines are full of freshness. Back then, producers were on holiday throughout August, and the fruit was picked in September (1st for the 1976 and from 5th for the 1989), but with such conditions today they would have harvested in mid-August. It is perhaps, he suggests, a lesson that the region is overreacting to warm conditions – with too many producers chasing acidity, rather than phenolic ripeness. For the skins are, he argues, the key to this sense of freshness, the dry extract that allows the wine to age.   The House has introduced a Cristal Rosé Vinothèque, or late release. To date, there have only been a handful of vintages – the 1995, 1996, 1999 and 2002. The maturation for this wine isn’t set and varies according to the vintage, normally spending longer on its lees, both sur latte (lying down) and sur pointe (upside down), the idea being to build umami complexity in the wine. The sur pointe ageing is unusual, something Lécaillon favours for its more reductive nature, keeping the wine aromatically fresh (the wine is still riddled four times a year in the same position, to agitate the lees and absorb any oxygen). Generally these releases are offered around 15-17 years after the vintage. The dosage is often lower than the original bottling, with the longer lees ageing lending balance without a higher sugar addition. Tasting the 2002 Vinothèque (a wine that feels infantile), Lécaillon says: “Is it better? I don’t know, but it’s another expression.”  I’ve written before about Lécaillon’s tireless approach to wine-growing – constantly looking to learn and evolve, and the week after our dive into Cristal Rosé he was flying to Japan to visit the Fukuoka farm (founded by Masanobu Fukuoka, the author of The One-Straw Revolution and a pioneer of permaculture or “natural” farming). His fight against the “banalisation” of taste continues, as he looks for ever-more ways to enrich the world of Louis Roederer. If the next 50 years of Cristal Rosé is nearly as good as the first, we’ve all got a lot to look forward to.  Five decades of Cristal Rosé: the tasting  2013 Cristal Rosé: A beautiful, late-ripening growing season that provided the last October harvest to date. A wine Chef de Cave Jean-Baptise Lécaillon describes as having “eternal youth” – something that is hard to disagree with after tasting the wine. This is a baby, the nose enticing with delicate floral aromas and bright citrus, not giving too much away. The palate is long and saline, tightly wound, but bursting with bright fruit on the mouthwatering finish, combining lush redcurrant and lemon. Gorgeous. Dosage 7g/l, tasted from magnum.  2012 Cristal Rosé: Lécaillon notes how 2012 was seen as an “easy” vintage on release, riper and richer with a little more Pinot Noir in the blend, but is now entering its second life, with reductive, chalky notes that bring it back to its soils. The wine is beautifully earthy and drastically different to the 2013, with power and intensity. It’s very savoury, a wine that is all about breadth and structure, with wild strawberry and raspberry notes mingling alongside a sea-spray freshness, driving on to a long, mineral finish. Dosage 8g/l, tasted from magnum.  2008 Cristal Rosé: This was the first fully organic vintage for the entire Roederer estate, and marks the start of a new era for Cristal Rosé with its cool “infusion” technique for the Pinot Noir. Paired with the 1995 vintage, the two wines are windows into two completely different worlds of Cristal. With the copper tone of a sunset, it’s a wine of muscle. It’s almost haughty, with length, power and elegance – showing off its flawless structure, with a zesty citrus drive complementing its austerity. The finish is long and saline. It will be incredible to taste this in 20 years’ time. Dosage 8g/l, tasted from magnum.  1995 Cristal Rosé: This vintage was one of the last to see the Pinot Noir soaked at 20-24̊C. It is, in Lécaillon’s mind, the “same terroir, but a different story” versus more modern iterations of the wine. The wine glows golden in the glass – the colour of the sun just as it breaks the horizon. It’s incredibly open, the aromatics constantly shifting to reveal new layers. There’s a touch of mushroom or truffle, but with layers of rich, almost tropical, fruit behind – think peach, mango, peach tea and the bite of pomegranate, with caramel sweetness, but still a saline twist to the finish. A wine of weight and depth. Dosage 12g/l, tasted from magnum.  1989 Cristal Rosé: This was a very warm vintage, harvested from 5th September, and the wine technically doesn’t have high acidity – yet is a wine of impressive freshness. Grilled hazelnuts edge a nose of candied orange peel and pomegranate, and a coffee note that emerges with air. There’s a liveliness to the palate here, even over three decades on, with a gorgeous freshness and creaminess to the mousse. The fruit on the palate is lush, with generous mouth-watering peach and a taut, mineral backbone. It’s amazing how young this tastes still. Dosage 12g/l, tasted from magnum.  1976 Cristal Rosé: Despite coming from another warm vintage (with a very hot, dry August – and harvested from 1st September), Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon notes the freshness on the 1976 vintage, and how it seems to have never become too evolved. It’s much more savoury than the 1976, with rye bread and brown miso sitting alongside caramelised pears, tarte tatin and a hint of Oloroso Sherry. The palate is a rush of fine bubbles, fresh and with a citrus bite but a savoury framework behind. A remarkable wine. Dosage 10g/l, tasted from magnum.  2002 Cristal Rosé Vinothèque: This was disgorged in 2019, spending 11 years on lees sur latte, and then another five sur pointe, followed by an additional four years’ post-disgorgement ageing prior to release. This wine is so tightly coiled, a wine not yet revealing everything it has to offer – although you can see the incredible structure. It’s so vibrant, with energy and a lushness as it drives toward a seemingly never-ending finish. It’s gorgeous, layered with mandarin, grapefruit pith, chalky minerality and smoked salt, lingering on the soft, saline tail of the mouthwatering finish. Dosage 8g/l, tasted from magnum.    The releases of Cristal Rosé to date: 1974, 1975, 1976, 1978, 1981, 1982, 1983, 1985, 1988, 1989, 1990, 1995, 1996, 1999, 2000, 2002, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2012, 2013 and 2014  Browse all current listings from Champagne Louis Roederer or read more Editorial 

This year marks the 50th birthday of Cristal Rosé, Champagne Louis Roederer’s rarest wine. Sophie Thorpe caught up with CEO Frédéric Rouzaud and Chef de Cave Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon about this very special prestige cuvée and tastes through five decades of the wine

As Champagne Louis Roederer celebrates the 50th birthday of Cristal Rose, we talk to Jean-Baptiste Lecaillon and Frederic Rouzaud 

Celebrating 50 years of Cristal Rose Champagne

Five decades of Cristal Rosé

Walking into the cooperage at Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte is like stepping back in time, filled with the smell of seasoned wood, an open fire and the same tools that barrel-makers have used for centuries. Few estates have the luxury of an in-house cooper. While producers inevitably work closely with the tonnelleries (barrel-making firms, such as François Frères, Stockinger and more), having an artisan on-site, working alongside the winemaking team to craft casks exclusively for your specific terroir is different. “It’s very important for the precision of the wine,” explains Cellar Master Yann Laudeho.  Florence and Daniel Cathiard, owners of the Pessac-Léognan estate, built a cooperage on-site almost 30 years ago, in 1995, and their current cooper, Yann Dez, has been working here since 2021. The Bordeaux native’s father was a metal worker, and Dez fell into the world of barrel-making entirely by accident – having a friend who was a tonnelier, and a job opening at an opportune moment. Before he knew it, Dez had learnt the trade from some of the best coopers in the country (including one who now makes the barrels at Ch. Margaux), and spending 15 years working under Didier Fesil. Fesil was the Cathiard family’s first cooper back in 1995, who went on to create his own small tonnellerie (Tonnellerie Bordelaise), and has been named the nation’s best “Master Cooper” – twice. Indeed, Fesil is still very involved with the estate, helping choose the wood for barrels and advising on all things oak; and it was Fesil who put Dez forward for the role at Smith Haut Lafitte.  “There are no books,” Dez says, when I ask about the art of barrel-making. “It’s passed on from tonnelier to tonnelier." The first evidence of coopering as a trade dates back to 900BC – with the craft passed down the generations ever since. “I continue the tradition,” Dez says, clearly with a sense of pride in this ancient, artisanal skill. But with the dust, noise and physical labour involved, tonnellerie schools, Dez tells me, are struggling to recruit young people. It’s common for coopers to have issues with their shoulders and ears (from the non-stop hammering) – and Dez himself has broken an elbow.  In theory, the process can be mechanised – but Dez is clear on how important it is to work by hand, and not just to preserve this ancient art. “I hear the nose, I feel the resistance,” he says. Each barrel, he explains, is different – with a slightly different number of staves and slightly different shape, all adapted according to the wood he’s working with. Selecting the right wood is key – “reading” it, he explains, looking at the grain to see where potential weaknesses are, understanding where will take the most pressure and placing each stave accordingly, ensuring not a drop can seep from the finished barrel. “It’s a job that is both physical, and at the same time requires thinking,” says Dez – and this combination is much of its allure for him.  Hearing the way Dez talks about barrels is fascinating; for him, they each have a unique personality. When I ask Dez how he knows he’s made a really good barrel, he shrugs: “On le sent.” (“You feel it.”) As you toast a barrel, he tells me, the scent of the smoke changes, releasing different aromas – something I smell as he works in front of me. Knowing when it’s spent the perfect amount of time over the fire is the secret – and it’s about more than just the smell, it’s a gut instinct that he can’t quite explain.  Smith Haut Lafitte sources oak from a range of forests, and are always trialling wood from different forests, toasts and doing blind tastings, although – after over 25 years – they know what works for their wine, and terroir. Cellar Master Laudeho explains that, for him, Tronçais and Jupilles are the best – “diamonds” that flawlessly complement their site. And that balance is key; the wood works for the wine, not the other way around.  It seems like a lonely job, I comment, hammering away in his tower – but it’s not something that bothers him. “I’m a bit of a perfectionist,” he tells me. Having only himself to depend on, and knowing that he can ensure each barrel meets his exacting standards, suits him. Indeed, he doesn’t even settle for standard tools – making most himself, custom-designed to suit the way he works. He talks me through a specific hammer that he made, and how it allows him to work better and more precisely, the wooden handle almost silken from the hours of use, shaped to his hand.   The lone electronic technology to have earned a place here are noise-cancelling headphones and a Marshall speaker. He’s a musician in his spare time, and an additional perk of working alone is that he gets to spend all day listening to music. “All the barrels I’ve made,” he says, “are made with music.” He avoids anything too modern or electronic, favouring old jazz, with some reggae, ska jazz and funk in the mix, depending on the day. While he doesn’t feel the music he listens to influences his coopering, he suspects his mood does – and music is a big part of that.  Woodwork is much more than a job for Dez. I spy a beautiful chest alongside his speaker, and it’s one that he made. He has a workshop at home too, spending his free time making everything from guitar stands and toys to chandeliers – anything, he says, that isn’t straight, and therefore can’t really be done by a machine.  It’s amazing watching him work – in the same way as coopers have for centuries – with a natural intuition, ease and precision. There’s definitely something musical to it, a craft that has its own rhythm. He makes around 300 barrels a year, and they may not be soloists – but each one contributes their own note to that year’s symphony.  Explore all current listings of Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte or read more about Bordeaux 

Wooden barrels line most of the finest wine cellars around the world – and many are made by hand. Continuing our series taking you behind the scenes in Bordeaux, we ducked into the cooperage at Smith Haut Lafitte to find out more about this special craft

We visited Pessac-Leognan’s Smith Haut Lafitte to talk to the wine estate’s master cooper, Yann Dez – and find out all about the art of barrel-making

Meeting Smith Haut Lafitte’s Master Cooper

Working to the beat: Smith Haut Lafitte’s Master Cooper

“The only thing more fun than drinking wine is buying wine,” says Allan Frischman, our new Vice President of Global Client Reserves, arching an eyebrow and laughing. He should know – he’s been working in the wine business since the early 1990s, with the vast majority of that spent sourcing, studying, authenticating and selling fine wine collections for a leading auction house. As of this month, he’ll be working to develop our network of reservists and their portfolios – allowing our clients to both sell and buy even more than before, giving us – and you – access to the world’s finest (and deepest) cellars. Beyond this, he’ll be finessing local pricing for each market we work in and helping manage clients’ wine storage – a job for which he is uniquely qualified. Frischman grew up in New Jersey and never planned to get into wine – but he took a part-time job at college (“to pay for beer”, he confesses) in a wine shop. The shop’s storage system was divided by country and region, with a warren-like basement that he needed to navigate, finding the right bin for new stocks. Reading about the different appellations, and using his staff discount to buy the odd bottle, got him interested – but it was a bottle of 1975 Ch. Talbot, tasted at Mary Ewing-Mulligan MW’s International Wine Center that hooked him: “At that point, I knew that this is what I wanted to do.”  The economics graduate was working at Manhattan’s Morell & Co. when, in 1994, the laws changed. For the first time since Prohibition, wine auctions were permitted to take place in New York State. “I didn’t know anything at all about auctions,” says Frischman – but it didn’t stop him jumping headfirst into something new, organising the state’s first commercial wine auction since 1920. “I didn’t know if we were going to get 10 bidders or 1,000,” he tells me. He shouldn’t have worried, for that auction was met with such enthusiasm that he walked away from the event on cloud nine, confident that he had found his calling.  In the 30 years since, he’s seen the auction business transformed. The 1994 law change created a new hub for wine’s secondary market, with New York rapidly becoming a rival for its traditional heartland in London – and the Big Apple rapidly added its own signature. Until then, auctions were staid affairs, dominated by trade buyers with little action beyond the raising of paddles in muted crowds – in Frischman’s words, “something dreary that dragged on for 10 hours”.  But Zachys – one of the auction houses that popped up in New York – added American flair, a touch of Broadway jazz hands to turn auctions into events, gathering bidders at round tables with great food and wine. Traditionalists said it wouldn’t work – but they were wrong. No longer were auctions purely a way to buy wine, they became fun – they became a place for wine lovers to gather, eat, drink and be seen. Higher attendance meant more bids, higher hammer prices – and more consignments that in turn brought more business, and a shift from trade to individuals.  The late 2000s brought challenges. “The Dow Jones was tumbling and it looked like the world was about to collapse,” Frischman tells me, looking back at the worldwide recession. “It was terrifying and of course people stopped buying wine.” But as Frischman rapidly learnt, people were waiting for the bottom of the market – and then they started buying again. At the same time, Hong Kong abolished import duty on wine (initially halved in 2007 and removed entirely in 2008) – and, like New York in 1994, instantly became a new centre for the wine trade. “The Asian market evolved almost over days,” remarks Frischman. “It became extremely sophisticated very quickly.” American auction houses started opening offices in Hong Kong. “For a few years, Hong Kong was just chewing up all the wine and the big hammer prices were all [there].”  The most recent shift in the world of auctioneering has been the advent of real-time, online bidding – one forced by the Covid-19 pandemic. “There was a perception that it would discourage people to show up in the sale room and would also discourage people from leaving bids in advance,” Frischman says, explaining why the industry was perhaps a little slow to embrace the online sphere. Interestingly, however, he anticipates that before online bidding was introduced, maybe only 10% of lots went to bidders physically in the room. With consumers stranded at home, and the technology already up to scratch, online auctions rocketed – and opened the market to an even broader range of consumers, with bidding wars between wine lovers in Brazil, Singapore, London, New York, Hong Kong and beyond now the norm.  As auction houses realised that online auctions worked, the need for events and associated spend dropped – and the auction style established by Zachys in the 1990s has become significantly less common. You might argue that this also heralds the end of the auctioneer – but even online companies have retained the compère, the familiar patter still something that bidders want.   It isn’t just where and how wine was selling, but which wines were selling that has evolved. In the mid-1990s and early 2000s, Frischman notes how the US market centred on Napa’s cult Cabernets, along with wines from the likes Williams Selyem, Ravenswood and, of course, Bordeaux’s top names. “[There was] across the board demand for Bordeaux,” Frischman tells me, “but you couldn’t give Burgundy away.” Of course, that’s all changed now – and Burgundy, despite its extremely limited supply, has become the darling of the fine wine scene. As prices have soared for the Côte d’Or’s top wines, wine lovers have started looking elsewhere, to Italy (Barolo, Barbaresco and some Brunello), Madeira (especially older vintages) and the Northern Rhône (Côte-Rôtie, Cornas and Saint-Joseph) – but none have the liquidity of Bordeaux. “They [the Bordelais] don’t get enough credit for the sheer, mind-boggling amount of great wine they’re able to put out every year,” says Frischman.  Over the years, Frischman has become an expert authenticator – the sort of knowledge that can only be gained by handling immense volumes of fine wine, working closely with producers and getting up close and personal with the rarest bottles. In 2006, he went to check over some wines that had been sent to the auction house he then worked for by a young Asian collector. The consignment was significant, worth millions of dollars – but even from across the room, Frischman knew that the wines didn’t look right. Closer inspection only confirmed that the wines looked like fakes – and the auction house turned them away, sending them back to the collector, then a new name on the scene, Rudy Kurniawan. A couple of years later, he got a call from the FBI’s Jim Wynn, asking if he would be an expert witness in a wine fraud case against Kurniawan, who had – by that point – become prolific. “I inspected, I don’t know, 40 bankers boxes of stuff that they’d gotten from his home, stamps for corks, fake labels, fake import strips – all kinds of stuff,” he says. In a warehouse in Queens, he studied the evidence – “going through bottle after bottle after bottle and writing a report about why I thought that they were fake”. It was – and still is – the biggest wine forgery case to have ever taken place, and Frischman, along with fellow authentication expert Michael Egan, was essential to proving Kurniawan’s guilt.  Wine authentication has become an essential component of wine collecting, and a key reason to work with trusted merchants. There are people who suggest that as much as 10% of wine on the secondary market is fake, but – in Frischman’s view, having handled fine wine for over 30 years – “That’s a substantial overestimate.” Despite such claims, forgery has only become more sophisticated, and it’s important, he says, to work with someone who knows what they’re looking at. “You want someone who is experienced to look at the bottle and who is empowered to say, ‘I don’t like it – we’re not offering it.’” There’s a big difference, he explains, between being convinced something is fake, and being convinced something is real – and you always want the person checking wines you’re buying to be in the latter camp.  The wine business is a people business – and he’s been lucky to spend three decades getting to know the world’s foremost collectors, spending time rustling through cellars, lugging his fair share of cases in and out of vans, and cradling bottles of elusive vintages and cuvées. Beyond this privilege, he’s often found himself on the receiving end of collectors’ generosity – recognising a fellow enthusiast’s passion. When I ask him if there’s a bottle that stands out, beyond the 1975 Talbot that was his hook into the industry, his eyes mist over. It was, he tells me, on a trip to Tokyo, at a remarkable dinner that included some incredible wines, including the fabled 1947 Cheval Blanc. But it was a bottle of 1978 La Romanée-Conti from Domaine de la Romanée-Conti that stole the show: it was “breathtaking, magical”, he says. “I was practically brought to tears.” Until that moment, he’d never necessarily understood why collectors kept this prized cuvée, and didn’t sell it to fund their La Tâche or Romanée-Saint-Vivant – but this bottle made him realise just why people don’t. “This wine was perfect,” he says.  It’s easy, perhaps, to imagine the auctioneering world is over-run with wine investors, but that’s far from what Frischman has found. “The vast majority, regardless of what they say they’re doing, are buying to drink,” he says. On paper, that may not make sense – after all, who needs 30,000 bottles of wine? But that, as Frischman and any wine obsessive knows, is the collector’s mentality – and, deciding to sell, despite owning more wine than could possibly be consumed in a lifetime, is much harder than buying another case or 10.  When Frischman first started auctioning wine, he recalls talking to his father, who wondered if there was enough fine wine to sustain a career. The beauty, Frischman, now knows, is that there’s a new vintage every year – beyond that, and as he’s seen over the past 30 years, the wine world is constantly shifting, with an ever-expanding range of regions and producers. And he’s evolving with the industry, making a move of his own and bringing his expertise to FINE+RARE. We can’t wait to see what he’ll do. Whether you’re looking to buy, sell or anything else, contact Allan Frischman directly at allan.frischman@frw.co.uk

After two decades at one of the world’s leading auction houses, Allan Frischman has joined our team, as Vice President of Global Client Reserves. We caught up with him to dive into the world of auctioneering, his 30 years in the business and his new role

After two decades at one of the USA’s leading auction houses, auctioneer and wine authentication expert Allan Frischman has joined our team

Introducing Allan Frischman

Hammer time: Allan Frischman

“People seem to like it,” says Callie Louw in his thick Afrikaans accent. The winemaker behind Porseleinberg shrugs, casual about his wine’s success. Since its first vintage in 2010, this Swartland Syrah has rapidly become one of South Africa’s best and most sought-after, much to his bemusement, it seems.  The 173-hectare estate is rugged and wild, sitting atop the Porcelain Mountain (Porseleinberg in Afrikaans) in the Swartland. The first vines had been planted here in 1997, with wines previously marketed under the Schonenberg label. Louw first came across the site while at Rustenberg, who sourced fruit from there – the bunches and individual berries were so tiny that Louw thought at first that the owners weren’t giving them the best fruit (although he may not have put it so politely). But those miniscule bunches were all these rocky schist soils, with almost no topsoil, could muster. However small the yields, the quality and concentration was enough to convince Marc Kent (Managing Partner and Technical Director at Boekenhoutskloof) to buy the farm in 2009 – and he approached Louw, who was then working at Tulbagh Mountain Vineyards (now Fable Mountain Vineyards), to develop the property.  The team instantly set about a massive planting program and there are around 90 hectares under vine today. Most of the fruit was destined for Boekenhoutskloof’s flagship wine, The Chocolate Block, but with 4.5 hectares of older plots and a ramshackle shed-cum-winery, Louw – with Kent’s blessing – decided to do something different, and Porseleinberg was born.  “It’s a really special site,” Louw says, explaining how the vines sit on almost pure bedrock with just a skin of topsoil over the blue schist. “We’re effectively farming little bonsais here.” It tells you just how challenging this site is that only half the vines they planted in 2009 survived; but the results are clearly worth the effort. And they weren’t the first to recognise the site’s potential – as well as Rustenberg (where Adi Badenhorst was then winemaker), Eben Sadie had sourced fruit from the property for Columella in 2000 and 2001. While the wine came originally from just 4.5 hectares, today there are 14 dedicated to Porseleinberg, with the first of the younger vines coming on stream from 2013. When Louw arrived in 2009, the vines were dry-farmed – and he managed to get 3.5 tons/hectare of fruit in 2010. But the yield was a tiny two tons the following year; it was clear that dry-farming just wasn’t an option for this site, the soils too poor to hold onto the water – if the skies even gave any. “Schist is actually spelt wrong, it’s supposed to be s**t,” Louw says, laughing. Despite the need to irrigate, he’s well aware of the costs involved – particularly given any water they use needs to be pumped seven kilometres and up the mountain. During the drought between 2016 and 2018, the river they use for irrigation dried up, Louw’s house water ran out in May – and police were patrolling water sources. There’s no avoiding how precious a resource water is here.  The site had been farmed organically and Louw continued this, however in 2016, when they looked to plant another 45 hectares, he wanted to make sure that he gave these new plantings the best chance – and be able to farm organically in the long term. As of 2023, the property is once more certified organic, having been able to return to the process in 2020. And it is firmly in the vineyard that Louw focuses, feeling not just that quality comes from the vine – but from the soil, as he gradually looks to build the level of organic matter. “The only thing that I can do better is farm better,” he says.  The winemaking is relatively simple and hands-off (as Louw says, “I’m quite proudly lazy in the winery.”) – but has evolved over the years. Louw uses 100% whole-bunch, although the fruit is crushed lightly (previously by foot, now by being run through a pump) to avoid carbonic fermentation and its more confected aromas. The fermentations are all native, with alcohols generally sitting between 13.5 and 14%. Maturation is in a combination of foudre and concrete, and varied more over the first four vintages as Louw figured out what worked (with the 2010 and 2011 vintages aged in concrete only). While some of the early vintages spent up to two years in concrete and oak, he has reduced this to 12 months (from 2014), favouring more time in bottle prior to release instead.   Although the wines are decidedly fresh and balanced, the pHs are naturally high – between 3.7 and 4.1, with most vintages sitting at the higher end of that spectrum. Given the risks of bacterial spoilage that this brings, SO2 levels are relatively high (around 100ppm total) – something Louw feels is essential for wines that are absolutely built to age. And that’s something that has long set Porseleinberg apart.   “I’m still wearing the pants I bought in 2004 – I know nothing about style,” Louw jokes. There’s no shortage of brilliant new-wave South African wine, however most are built to be open and approachable in their youth – not necessarily glou-glou, but leaning into the lighter style of reds that has become fashionable. Porseleinberg was, at least at first, decidedly not. The earlier vintages are stern and serious, and need(ed) significant time to resolve and soften – it’s that style (whether Louw would describe it as such or not) that has earned the wine the moniker “Cape Cornas”, a style that is both thanks to the natural intensity of the low-yielding site and Louw’s love of old wine.  But the 2018 vintage brought a significant shift – one that has taken Porseleinberg to new heights. Louw visited a friend who was working at Domaine Jamet, and saw how rather than using punch-downs or pump-overs, they submerged the cap throughout the fermentation and maceration, allowing them to extract more gently. Most winemakers might have trialled the technique on a parcel, but not Louw – who says, frankly, “I put my chips all in.” He returned to the Swartland and set to work, making his own plates to hold the cap in place during fermentation. Fortunately for him, the gamble paid off.  The more recent vintages display more perfume, precision and finesse, without sacrificing the almost fearsome structure that makes them so age-worthy – and, as Louw says, it means he does even less work in the winery (“I fit about one more beer in a day,” he says, smiling). While earlier vintages were more about their tannic framework, the fruit, Louw suggests, is more present now – covering the tannins in the wines’ youth.  When I ask Louw if he wishes he’d used the submerged-cap technique from the start, his answer is no. “It’s amazing to grow up with the wine,” he says. And somehow that makes sense, for this is clearly a very personal project. Although Boekenhoutskloof might own Porseleinberg, it is run and managed totally separately. During our conversation and as we taste through a complete vertical, back to 2010 (the first time Louw has ever had the chance to do so), it is clear that this is not just a wine from this specific place, but also from this specific wine-grower. Over 12 vintages, the style evolves, the variation between years shining through, but the mineral backbone and structural imprint of this site remains. It’s a remarkable wine, and one that is only set to get even better as the vines age and Louw builds on his experience. Ignore it at your peril.  Tasting every vintage of Porseleinberg: 2010 to 2021 2010 Porseleinberg: From the original 4.5 hectares, the first vintage of Porseleinberg offers a savoury, bloody, iron-rich nose, with an edge of herbal, menthol notes and dried red fruit. The immense structure is still present, although the tannins have softened with over a decade in bottle. That structure is complemented by a bite of fresher, dark fruit and juicy acidity. Aged for 16 months in 65% foudre and 35% concrete.  2011 Porseleinberg: This wine still feels young, the nose brooding with dark fruit, leather and liquorice, the palate tightly packed with intense, black-berried fruit and a chalky grip of tannins. With the year’s conditions only two tons per hectare were harvested, the smallest crop ever from the site – and given the small volumes this was never released, with only 800 bottles made. Aged for 24 months in concrete egg.  2012 Porseleinberg: This is more supple and soft than the 2012, with a savoury and saline profile. There’s more elegance than the first two vintages, with dark, intense fruit yet with an appealing purity, complemented by notes of tobacco spice and liquorice allsorts. Only 2,760 bottles were made. Aged for 12 months in concrete egg.  2013 Porseleinberg: The fruit here is distinctly different – sweeter strawberry with a touch of herbal eucalyptus alongside savoury hints that point to the beginnings of tertiary development. It’s incredibly concentrated, structured and compact – a wine that is built for the long-haul. Aged for 24 months in 60% foudre and 40% concrete.  2014 Porseleinberg: The 2014 was one of the more open vintages in the line-up, from a particularly wet year and late harvest. The nose entices with an earthiness, a dusting of cocoa, deep red cherry and chocolate-covered strawberries. There’s a juicy purity to the palate with a chalky grip and savoury, smoky edge to the long finish. Aged for 12 months in 100% foudre.  2015 Porseleinberg: This is still a little reductive, and will benefit from additional time in bottle. As this reduction blows off, it reveals a fynbos-accented nose of dark fruit. From a cool vintage, the palate is a tight ball still – intensely mineral and chalky, with impressive purity, but it’s not yet revealing its potential. One to watch. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2016 Porseleinberg: The 2016 vintage brought the driest winter in decades and another tiny crop. The wine is full of sweet red fruit, but there’s a firm, stony minerality to the nose, as well as floral and spicy tones that give it lift. There’s a fine-boned framework here and gorgeous freshness. Aged for 12 months in 70% foudre and 30% concrete egg.  2017 Porseleinberg: The 2017 vintage is sweet and concentrated; offering both a swarthy dark profile and a sweet, red-fruited intensity. It’s tight and bold, with an iron backbone, firm tannic structure and a powerful finish defined by its dark fruit and minerality. Aged for 12 months in 70% foudre and 30% concrete egg.  2018 Porseleinberg: The 2018 vintage is the first in which Louw used the submerged-cap technique – and there’s an instant shift in the style of the wine. It’s brighter, more aromatic with more intense herbal and spicy notes, while the palate is layered with juicier, crunchy red fruit that masks the tannins. The finish is long, spicy and mineral. Superb. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2019 Porseleinberg: This vintage saw a break in the drought for South Africa, with rainfall around average and a relatively cool growing season. The nose here is dominated by herbs and spice – green peppercorn, dried rosemary and sage; leading on to a palate that offers pure red-berried fruit. There’s a mineral, chalky, furry grip of velvet tannins that frames the generous cherry fruit, with a saline mineral finish. Delicious. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2020 Porseleinberg:  The 2020 vintage was warmer and the wine speaks to that – with richer and darker fruit character that dominates its profile. The warmer conditions have added a polish to the wine, with more open feel, despite the trademark structure that sits behind the fruit. The wine is a little reductive at this stage, and needs more time to unfurl. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2021 Porseleinberg: The latest release of Porseleinberg is unsurprisingly impressive, but with a finesse that suggests it could be Callie Louw’s best vintage to date. A long, cool growing season with sufficient rainfall resulted in a leisurely harvest in 2021, allowing the team to take their time to pick. Since the shift to submerged cap in 2018, quality here has leapt ahead. The 2021 shows a spicy, mineral intensity – with the fruit more subdued, taking a backseat to the stony structure and texture of the wine. It’s supple, flowing across the palate like silk, yet with a super-fine grip of mineral tannins and the shy fruit that points to its immense age-worthiness. Savoury herbal tones mingle with the red fruit, while there’s a saline freshness and spicy pepper tones that linger on the long finish. Amazingly approachable now, it will only improve with a couple of years in bottle and continue to evolve over the next 15 years or so. Aged for 12 months in 95% foudre and 5% concrete.   Browse all current listings of Porseleinberg 

Porseleinberg has become one of South Africa’s most collectable wines. As the estate releases its 12th vintage, Sophie Thorpe tastes through a full vertical and talks to winemaker Callie Louw about what makes the site, and wine, so special

Porseleinberg is one of South Africa’s most collectable wines. We taste through a full vertical of the Swartland Syrah and talk to winemaker Callie Louw

An icon in the making – Porseleinberg

Porseleinberg: an icon in the making

Ch. Haut-Brion is one of the oldest and best-known names in fine wine. The Bordeaux First Growth estate was created by Jean de Pontac, back in 1533, and its wines were among the first to be exported. Records detail 169 bottles of the wine (then as “Hobriono”) served to guests in 1660 by King Charles II. Just a few years later, on 10th April 1663, Samuel Pepys wrote in his diary that he had drunk “a sort of French wine called Ho-Bryan [sic] that hath a good and most particular taste I never met with”.   
While Ch. Haut-Brion is the oldest known estate in Bordeaux to bottle and label its wine as a Grand Cru, bearing both name and terroir – the name “Haut-Brion” has an historic attachment to a fair few other winemaking estates in the Graves region. The name Haut-Brion roughly translates as hillock and refers to the raised gravel hills found in the surrounding vineyards. It is these distinct raised, Günzian gravel soils that have provided such ideal conditions for grape growing over the last 500 years or so – providing the vines with much-needed drainage in Bordeaux’s marshy flatlands. Below the deep gravel lies a bedrock of clay which locks in the moisture, releasing it only when required in the drier summer months. This terroir is the secret behind the vineyards’ historic levels of consistency. 
Other famous châteaux that share the Haut-Brion name are all situated in the Graves region, just south of Bordeaux’s city centre. Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion, situated immediately across the road from Ch. Haut-Brion, with neighbouring vineyards, is the most famous, while Ch. les Carmes Haut-Brion is situated just to its north and Ch. la Tour Haut-Brion to its south.
Controversially Ch. Larrivet Haut-Brion is not close to the other properties, but further south, near Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte. The property changed its name from La Rivette to Ch. Haut-Brion Larrivet in 1874, and it was only following a lawsuit, filed by Ch. Haut-Brion in 1949, that the château was forced to change its name to Larrivet Haut-Brion. (Neither Les Carmes de Haut-Brion or Larrivet Haut-Brion have a connection to Ch. Haut-Brion and the wider Clarence Dillon portfolio.) 
Today, Ch. Haut-Brion and neighbouring Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion are the two flagship estates of Domaine Clarence Dillon. Clarence Dillon was an American immigrant, who made his fortune as a financial broker on Wall Street in the 1920s. With French ancestors and a passion for French gastronomy (which included him taking an introductory course at the famous Paris cooking school, Le Cordon Bleu), he spent much of his spare time in France. In 1935, he eventually persuaded the current owner, André Gilbert, to sell him Ch. Haut-Brion, his favourite wine estate, and the property has remained in Dillon the family ever since. 
Clarence Dillon’s granddaughter, Joan Dillon, and her second husband Philippe de Noailles, Duke of Mouchy, expanded their holdings in the region, when they purchased Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion and Ch. la Tour Haut-Brion in 1983. It was following this acquisition that some famous neighbouring châteaux were absorbed into the portfolio and some wines discontinued, with the fruit instead used for Haut-Brion or La Mission Haut-Brion. 
The range as it stood in 1983 included the Grand Vins Haut-Brion and Haut-Brion Blanc, La Mission Haut-Brion and their famous white wine, Laville Haut-Brion. In addition to this, Ch. Haut-Brion produced a second red wine called Bahans Haut-Brion and a second white wine called Les Plantiers Haut-Brion. At Ch. La Mission Haut-Brion they produced a second red wine called La Chapelle de la Mission Haut-Brion and also the red wine of Ch. la Tour Haut-Brion. 
In 2008 the fourth generation of the Clarence Dillon family, Prince Robert de Luxembourg took control of the estate, and a flurry of name changes took place, however the fruit sources have remained stable. From the 2008 vintage, Les Plantiers Haut-Brion was renamed La Clarté de Haut-Brion, while Bahans Haut-Brion became Le Clarence de Haut-Brion from the 2007 vintage. Laville Haut-Brion, La Mission’s famed white wine, was returned back to La Mission Haut-Brion Blanc from the 2009 vintage. 
For the Prince, the name changes were mainly a way to simplify the range for collectors. In fact, La Mission’s top white had originally been called La Mission Haut-Brion Blanc when first produced in 1923, however the winery didn’t feel the quality was on a par with the red and so changed the name to Laville Haut-Brion (after the lieu-dit where the white grapes were grown) in the 1930s. Bahans Haut-Brion had also taken its name from its lieu-dit; the name change reflected that it had become a second wine, not a cuvée from a separate vineyard (and paid tribute to Prince Robert’s gread-grandfather). 
Perhaps the biggest casualty in the development of the Haut-Brion properties was the discontinuation of Ch. la Tour Haut-Brion – with the last vintage 2005. Before Clarence Dillon bought the property in 1983, a portion of the grapes of the four-hectare estate went into the Grand Vin of La Mission Haut-Brion, while the rest was bottled as La Tour Haut-Brion.  Clarence Dillon bottled fruit from all four hectares of the property separately for a time, and it gained its own strong following – known for consistently producing memorable, age-worthy wines that defied its relatively low price point. But, in 2005, Domaine Clarence Dillon decided to put all the fruit into the second wine of La Mission Haut-Brion – La Chapelle de la Mission Haut-Brion – and Ch. La Tour Haut-Brion was no more. 
Between the 1950s and 2012, an additional wine – Domaine de la Passion Haut-Brion or Domaine Allary Haut-Brion – was made. The wine has an interesting story, relating to a parcel of vines in the heart of the Haut-Brion vineyard, but owned by the Allary family. The Allary family didn’t make wine, but rented the vines to Haut-Brion, who paid them back by bottling some wine – which otherwise would have been Haut-Brion’s Grand Vin or second wine – under a special label, Domaine de la Passion Haut-Brion.  This was produced from 1954 to 1978. In 1979, EU law forbid the same wine to be bottled under a different label, so between 1979 and 2007, the fruit from these vines went into the second wine of Haut-Brion (then known as Bahans Haut-Brion). From 2008, the Allary family took back control of the vines and produced their own wine. Made by a different winemaking team managed by Stéphane Derenoncourt, the wine was bottled under a new label, Domaine Allary Haut-Brion. This lasted just five vintages until 2012, when Clarence Dillon finally bought the land from the family and the wine was discontinued. 
In 2011, the fourth generation of the Dillon family, Prince Robert de Luxemburg, branched out beyond the Graves region to buy Ch. Tertre Daugay in Saint-Emilion along with the vineyards of neighbouring Ch. l’Arrosée. From the two estates, he created Quintus. Ideally situated next to Ch. Bélair-Monange and Ch. Angélus, the vineyards are situated on a limestone hillock in the south-western end of the Saint-Emilion plateau.  In 2021, Domaine Clarence Dillon bought Ch. Grand Pontet, another 14 hectares of top Saint-Emilion terroir to further expand the Quintus estate. With the viticulture and winemaking at Quintus all under the control of the talented Haut-Brion team, it’s not surprising that Quintus has quickly gained its own following of collectors. Alongside the Grand Vin, a second wine Le Dragon de Quintus (first produced in 2011) and a third wine Saint-Emilion de Quintus (first produced in 2014) are made.

These various lost properties and wines are becoming harder to find, but offer a fascinating way to explore the full DNA of the modern-day Haut-Brion, La Mission Haut-Brion and Quintus. 
Your quick guide to the Haut-Brion wines
 Allary Haut-Brion (Domaine): made between 2008 and 2012 by a separate winemaking team from a parcel of vines in the heart of the Haut-Brion site (which is now owned by Haut-Brion) Bahans Haut-Brion: the second wine of Ch. Haut-Brion, first made in 1976 and renamed Le Clarence de Haut-Brion from the 2007 vintage Haut-Brion: the Grand Vin (red) of Ch. Haut-Brion, which dates back to the 16th century Haut-Brion Blanc: the Grand Vin (white) of Ch. Haut-Brion, first made in 1916  La Chapelle de la Mission Haut-Brion: La Mission Haut-Brion’s second wine, introduced in 1991 La Clarté de Haut-Brion: the name for the second white wine of Ch. Haut-Brion from the 2008 vintage (previously Les Plantiers Haut-Brion Blanc) La Mission Haut-Brion: the Grand Vin (red) of Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion which has been made since the 16th century La Mission Haut-Brion Blanc: the Grand Vin (white) of Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion, first made in 1923 under this name, before being renamed Laville Haut-Brion in the 1930s, and reclaiming its name once more from 2009  La Passion Haut-Brion (Domaine de): a bottling of Haut-Brion or Bahans Haut-Brion under a different label (from 1955 to its last vintage in 1978) La Tour Haut-Brion: a separate property owned by Clarence Dillon since 1983 (last vintage 2005); the fruit is now used for La Mission Haut-Brion’s second wine, La Chapelle de la Mission Haut-Brion Laville Haut-Brion: the Grand Vin (white) of Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion, renamed la Mission Haut-Brion Blanc in 2009 (as it was originally known when first made, prior to the 1930s) Le Clarence de Haut-Brion: the name for Ch. Haut-Brion’s second (red) wine since the 2007 vintage (previously known as Bahans Haut-Brion) Les Plantiers Haut-Brion Blanc: the second white wine of Ch. Haut-Brion, renamed La Clarté de Haut-Brion from the 2008 vintage Explore all current listings of Ch. Haut-Brion, Ch. La Mission Haut-Brion, Quintus, La Passion Haut-Brion and La Tour Haut-Brion or read more Editorial 

Since the Clarence Dillon family bought Ch. Haut-Brion in 1935 and neighbouring Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion and La Tour Haut-Brion 48 years later, the properties have become some of Bordeaux’s most collectable. We explore the genealogy of these illustrious estates – and their lost wines 

Exploring the genealogy of the Bordeaux First Growth Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion and its siblings La Tour Haut-Brion

The lost wines of Haut-Brion

Screaming Eagle winemaker Nick Gislason wears many hats – he is also the Technical Director of Lopez Island Community Fireworks and co-founder of Hanabi Lager. FONDATA's Gavin Lucas caught up with the busy man to discuss how these dichotomous ventures have more in common than you might think.

Screaming Eagle's Nick Gislason on winemaking, beer brewing (Hanabi Lager) and designing fireworks (Island Community Fireworks)

FONDATA: Curiosity & Wonder: Magic’s Secret Ingredients 

Curiosity and wonder: magic’s secret ingredients

Bordeaux 2020 is the third in a trilogy of outstanding vintages for the region – but, talking to producers, one thing is abundantly clear: the year was not easy. Covid-19 aside, the year’s unusual conditions demanded attention in the vineyard. “It was a marathon,” Noëmie Durantou Reilhac of Ch. l’Eglise Clinet told me. Nicolas Audebert of Chx Canon and Rauzan-Ségla was more frank: “It was a f***ing tough year.” “Extreme” is the word that comes up time and again. It was both wet and dry, mild and hot – a contradiction in terms throughout, demanding producers’ attention. As Jean-Sébastien Philippe at Lafite described it, 2020 was “un millésime de vigneron" (a winemaker’s vintage). The winter and spring were mild and wet, replenishing water reserves and kicking off the growing season early. It was so mild – with temperatures on average around 2˚C warmer than usual – that there were already signs of budbreak at L’Eglise Clinet on 4th February. Flowering was early and homogenous; at Ch. Margaux it was a full 15 days ahead of normal, Managing Director Philippe Bascaules noted, bringing the entire season forward. This early start led to fears of possible frosts, but (unlike in 2021) the temperature barely dropped and the threat to crops was minimal. Overall, 2020 saw more rain than any other year in the last decade – however it fell almost entirely over the winter and spring, with subsequent concentrated bursts in May and August. This relative downpour was essential for what was to come, for the summer was parchingly dry. As Pierre-Olivier Clouet of Cheval Blanc explained, the spring provided the vines with enough reserves to survive the long, dry summer.  But the damp also brought mildew pressure – a particular challenge for those working organically or biodynamically. “On 12th May we had to spray copper by hand over 25 hectares of vineyards, as it was too wet to put tractors in the vineyards,” said Thomas Duroux at Ch. Palmer. Justine Tesseron at Ch. Pontet-Canet explained how dry breaks in the weather helped them avoid the damage seen in 2018, allowing them to get into the vines and spray. The mildew seemed to impact the Right Bank less, although work was still essential to avoid losses. Then in mid-June, a switch flicked and the weather shifted dramatically, becoming warm and dry. “It’s like only having two seasons instead of four,” Nicolas Glumineau of Ch. Pichon Comtesse explained, something he fears is becoming the new normal with climate change. The warm dry conditions concentrated the berries and then, as the vines gradually started to
become more stressed in August, slowed the vines’ growth. This was, Noëmie Durantou Reilhac of Ch. l’Eglise Clinet noted, important – helping to slow the sugar accumulation, and allow the phenolics to catch up. But the vines were stressed. “Vines are living beings and we ask them to go through a lot. If you were drinking a gallon of water every hour for a month and then had no water for two months…” Noëmie Durantou Reilhac said. The team at Pichon Comtesse was starting to worry as the leaves started to turn yellow and the vines were visibly struggling. But relief arrived in mid-August, with rain on
the Left Bank (with the least falling on Saint-Julien) and Saint-Emilion, although Pomerol had to wait until 1st and 2nd September for the weather to break briefly and provide the water the vines sorely needed. “This really refreshed the grapes, diluting the sugar content, but early enough to allow for concentration to build up in the berries,” Bascaules at Margaux explained.  From the end of August to late September, the mercury rose even higher. At Pichon Comtesse, with temperatures reaching 40˚C, Glumineau started to become nervous about the wine they’d be able to make, visibly seeing the berries reduce in size each day during the last two weeks of September. Cool nights were key at this time, preserving acidity and aromatics, despite the heat of the day. The harvest itself was fast and furious. Thanks to the homogenous flowering, everything ripened at once – and quickly. The whole season remained 10 to 15 days earlier than normal, and picking of the whites kicked off in mid-August, while the Merlot started coming in from early September, then the Cabernet from the middle of the month. Everything was in before the close of the month. Timing were similar to 2003, 2015 or 2019. Nicolas Glumineau noted that rainfall at the very end of September – falling on 25th and 26th – was of particular importance, helping “polish the tannins” on the last few plots of Pichon Comtesse’s Cabernet Sauvignon.

“It was a textbook perfect vintage,” Damien Barton Sartorius, Director of Léoville and Langoa Barton said – the only thing that upsets him is the volume of wine produced. The dry conditions broadly led to smaller berries with thick skins, and therefore less juice. In general, yields are a little down on 2019 and 2018, around 10 to 25% in most places, with the smallest crops in Saint-Julien (down 20% at Léoville and Langoa Barton, 25% at Ch. Ducru-Beaucaillou), and Sauternes and Barsac.  “It was a crazy, crazy vintage,” said Omri Ram of Lafleur. Rushing through the growing season like this, it’s clear it was, but producers aren’t shy about the results, nor should they be. The wines are superb – more classical than those of 2018 or ’19, with some comparing them to the wines of 2016, ’15 or ’09. Read more about the vintage in our overview or commune-by-commune breakdown

The 2018 and 2019 vintages might be tough acts to follow, but Bordeaux 2020 seems to be more than up to the job. We spoke to producers about the year’s extreme conditions – and the stunning results it produced

Chx l’Eglise Clinet, Cheval Blanc, Pichon Comtesse and more on the extraordinary conditions that shaped the 2020 Bordeaux vintage

Exploring the Bordeaux 2020 growing season

Bordeaux wine vintage 2020: a tale of two halves

Quality in the Douro Valley has arguably never been higher – with a run of recent vintages universally declared (2011, 2016, 2017). The 2018 vintage was declared by some and, in the last few weeks, Sogevinus and Niepoort have declared 2019. These Ports, however, won’t be ready for years – so what should you be drinking in the meantime?  When to drink vintage Port  Traditionally Port is considered to go through phases: its open, ebullient youth; a sometimes tricky teenage phase; and then – once the wines hit their 20s – the wines open out, becoming more approachable with additional layers of complexity.  While the British palate might be more attuned to mature wines, it’s not true of everywhere. Anthony Symington notes that while the British go for Ports that are 20+ years old, in America, France and Portugal, vintage Ports tend to be drunk around the 10-year-old mark.   “I get a lot of personal enjoyment between four and 12 years of age, when fruit is your main character,” the Fladgate Partnership’s David Guimaraens says. “It’s a magical time to drink vintage Port.” The “teenage” phase – between 14 to 19 years – is a safer time to open bottles than it used to be, he argues, but is inevitably a transitional phase, with the fruit fading and bottle maturity just developing. It is, in his view, worth waiting for the complexity that comes with 20 years in bottle or more.  Which wines to drink now  Such is the quality of recent vintages, Dirk Niepoort even suggests that 2017 and ’15 can be drunk now. For him, however, “Old proper Port is the king of Ports.” With that in mind, he suggests that anything between 1987 and 2011 are currently closed; but savour the 1980, ’82, ’83 and ‘87s. The 1977s are still a bit closed, although he thinks it’s “a great year”. For him, 1970 remains under-valued – a vintage that he rates higher than 1963. It’s a year worth looking out for, he says, particularly because everyone did well – so there’s little risk, whichever producer you are drinking. It’s one of his favourites, an old-fashioned vintage with the emphasis on spice rather than fruit, with fantastic tannins and lots of structure.  Of course some years are better than others. Symington notes that if you can track down 1945s or ‘24s, these legendary vintages are still drinking beautifully now. As for other wines that are at their zenith, he suggests the classic 1963 (“the vintage that saved Port”), ’66 and ’70 – all of which he feels are in their prime. The wines from the ‘80s are just moving from that secondary to tertiary stage – and ’80, ’83 and ’85 are “more concentrated, but beautiful, velvety wines”.   Carlos Agrellos of Quinta do Noval splits wines from the property into pre and post AXA (AXA Millésimes acquired the property in 1993). He personally prefers wines that are around 15-20 years old, feeling the wines benefit from time in bottle; however he also notes how much more drinkable the wines are in their youth today, thanks to advancements in viticulture and winemaking. From the pre-AXA era, he highlights what he deems “iconic wines” – the 1931, the 1963 (“absolutely stunning”) and 1970.  Under AXA’s ownership, he starts with the 1994 – the first vintage released under AXA – feeling that both Noval and Nacional “are showing brilliantly now”. Looking just at Noval, he favours ’97, 2000 (a year of which he’s “really fond”), ’03 and ’07 – the latter which, even though it’s only 13 years old is, in his view, “delicious… with stunning balance”. After that, the 2011 – “It’s a stunner.”  As for Nacional, he suggests uncorking 1931, ’63, ’66, ’70, ’94, ’97 and 2003 – but advises, given the wine’s concentration, to hold anything younger. He emphasises the importance of cellaring the wines properly – best done by purchasing on release.  Guimaraens highlights that single quinta vintage Ports tend to be more approachable and enjoyable in their youth (wines that he notes still offer “incredible value for money”), given they tend to be less structured. Looking at single quintas that can be uncorked earlier with less guilt, he suggests savouring anything back to the 2005s, which all still have beautiful fruit – the 2008s in particular, he notes, are in a beautiful phase. As for classic vintage Ports, Guimaraens favours cooler years in their youth: “The 2016s – classics – are the epitome of purity of fruit,” he explains. The 2017s, by contrast, from a hotter year have harder tannins and warmer fruit which need time to mellow. For mature Ports – those in that “magical place” – he’s drinking mostly 2000s at home, a year that he considers “almost perfection in vintage Port”. Otherwise, drink the 1992s and ‘97s – but be patient with ‘94s; crack on with 2000s and 2007s (another cool year), but leave any 2003s (“a huge year”) tucked away for the foreseeable.   The Port vintages to drink now For a more youthful style: 2007, 2011, 2015, 2016, 2017  Mature wines: 1963, 1966, 1970, 1979, 1980, 1983, 1985, 1987, 1992, 1994, 1997, 2000, 2003  And if you can find them: 1924, 1931, 1945  Browse all Port or read more Editorial

Ahead of St George’s Day – the day on which Port houses traditionally declare a vintage – we caught up with the Douro Valley’s leading producers to find out which vintage Ports you should be uncorking now 

Exploring the top vintage Ports you should be uncorking now with the Douro Valley’s leading producers

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