Much has been written about Promontory. The property was discovered by Bill Harlan in the 1980s, hidden behind a ridgeline in Oakville, and its story – one that almost feels mythical – has been told many times (including by us).   Those stories, however, don’t prepare you for standing in this vineyard. “The territory”, as the team refers to the estate itself, is totally hidden from view – a good 10-minute drive from the winery (which looks out over the Harlan Estate vineyards), tucked to the south, over the hills from Dominus, found via a warren of dirt-tracks that cut through the forest, until – suddenly – you’re there.  Perched at the top of just one of the various parcels of vines, Cory Empting (Managing Director of Winegrowing) stops the truck as our jaws drop. We scramble to get out, blinking in the peaceful sunshine that beats down on an enchanting, untamed idyll. “There’s a quality to the silence out here,” Empting says – breaking the quiet that we’ve been soaking in. As the crow flies, Promontory isn’t far from Harlan Estate – yet the difference is, in Empting’s words, “kinda scary”. Fault lines make for a unique mix of soil types – sedimentary, volcanic and, most importantly and rare for Napa, metamorphic. Plots of vines are sparsely scattered across the wild, forested mountains, the undulating, varied slopes offering an almost endless range of aspect and microclimate. (As one alum told me, laughing, “It’s beautiful – but a total b**** to farm.”) The elevation is higher than at Harlan Estate – with the lowest point at Promontory the equivalent altitude of the highest point at its sibling property – making it generally cooler. Harlan Estate is manicured, while Promontory has a rawness about it – a sense that it isn’t, and never will be, totally domesticated. It's taken a long time to get here. Bill Harlan’s quest to create a Californian rival to Bordeaux’s First Growths (started in the 1970s) had kept him hunting for land, enough that would allow him to produce the same volume as the Left Bank’s most grandiose addresses. He bought his first 40 acres in 1984, the founding stone for Harlan Estate, and has continued tracking down special vineyards ever since, first for Harlan, then BOND and Promontory.  Although he’d first identified the location for Promontory in the 1980s (while hiking through this part of the valley), the property was developed by Girard Winery in the meantime, and he didn’t have the chance to buy it until 2008. Bill got a call that it was going on the market – and that’s when he rang up Will (his son, now Managing Director for the Harlan family of wineries) and Empting. “Then the economy started tanking,” Empting says – and suddenly the property that had been a stretch became increasingly affordable as its price dropped. The decision to buy was easy. But there was no reference point for the project, no historic bottlings to judge against, just a feeling about the place, and its potential.  “It was the wild west when we got out here,” Empting explains. The vineyard was in terrible shape – trees had been cut down and left where they fell. There were weeds growing taller than the vines. It had been left to become truly feral. There were even end-posts suggesting a row of Pinot Noir that was clearly Cabernet Sauvignon, while there were Cabernet Sauvignon clones that looked like nothing they’d seen before.  They committed to farming the site for three years before changing anything, so they knew what they were dealing with. But it soon became clear that the soils had been destroyed, robbed of organic matter, the vines emaciated, producing truncated shoots.  To date, they have replanted half of the 80 acres of vines. And the redevelopment work has been substantive, including un-doing terracing. They worked with superstar consultant agronomists Claude and Lydia Bourguignon (the first in the US to do so) to help regenerate the soils. But the philosophy here is ultimately Fukuoka-inspired: “How can we do one thing less? … That’s our church,” says Empting.  Fifteen acres have been replanted, rather unconventionally for Cabernet Sauvignon, untrellised – goblet-trained. This is partly because the metamorphic rock is so fractal that a unified hedge just didn’t make sense. Air flows in all directions, the sun hits each vine differently, they’re resilient for dry-farming and it allows the team to pick and move in any direction in the vineyard. Even more unusually, they’re planting rootstocks by themselves, grafting only once they’re three or four years old – when deemed ready. “I’m a Montessori parent,” Empting jokes, referencing what he describes as his “mixed pace” vineyards, letting each vine develop at its own rate. And this sense of responding to and working with, rather than against, the vines is key.  In a move that’s incredibly rare for hillside or mountain sites in Napa, their goal is to dry-farm. While the inspiration might have been wine quality (looking for more concentrated, balanced fruit), it is now ultimately about long-term survival in a changing climate. “We’re not going to have the water,” Empting says frankly. Convention suggests that each vine in the ground acts like a straw, sucking water from the soils. But, as Promontory have proven through experiments, it is not that simple – relating to the number of leaves on the vine, as well as its age, among other things. In fact, they have found that higher density plantings are easier to dry-farm.  To help avoid irrigation, they focus on respecting the vine energy – that means they don’t hedge or leaf-pull, and will only green harvest if they absolutely must (when nature throws them a curveball) – pruning to what they want the vine to grow, avoiding wasting any inch of the plant’s efforts. The resulting clusters are tiny, with yields reaching a maximum 38hl/ha, but often a mere 20hl/ha.   Cover crops and permanent grass cover, as well as grazing, have been key to repairing the soils. They’re still having to use a little bit of compost in some areas, Empting confesses almost guiltily – something he considers “a sign of imbalance”. Animals are a key part of “holistic farming”, Empting says, and he’d love to have chickens in the vineyards – “If the coyotes didn’t see them as a free meal,” he jokes. They’ll bring sheep in to graze early in the season, so that the cover crop has time to grow back. The regrowth can then be trampled naturally by the vineyard team as they work – operating as a rustic form of crimping or rolling. This aids water retention, the natural layer of “thatch” keeping the soils cool and preventing evaporation. If it’s not already clear, this isn’t a standard vineyard or estate – or, more accurately, family of estates. This is all part of Bill Harlan’s original vision, a 200-year plan to create a wine dynasty to match those of the Old World. The level of detail, effort and expense that goes into BOND, Harlan and Promontory is remarkable. They have a team dedicated to Research & Development – ensuring that they are at the forefront of viticulture and vinification, pushing any and every boundary in the name of quality.  One key element of this is their Vine Masters program – elevating what might historically have been seen as blue collar work to the skilled profession it really is.  The large majority of vineyard workers in California are of Mexican origin (some statistics suggest as high as 95%). There’s reason for this, with a long history of seasonal-working that stretches back to 1917, yet there’s often a division between vineyard and winery – a division that the family is working hard to broach.  The Vine Master program was first introduced at Harlan. The principle is not alien – a “Vine Master” is dedicated to a specific block, giving a sense of ownership, yet also meaning they know that block inside out. But – and this is what sets Harlan apart – to earn that responsibility (and it is a significant responsibility when the wine sells for upwards of £800 a bottle), the Vine Master has to go through a modular education program (developed in-house), passing both theory and practical exams. The Vine Masters can then take ownership for a block, and have the freedom to do what is required for their plot of vines. In what feels distinctly Californian and ever-so-slightly hippy-inspired, they’re also encouraged to, for example, hike through the surrounding hills, helping them think laterally.  Empting explains how one of the Vine Masters was sitting in his block on a break, looking up at a tree, and realised that trees naturally find their balance by dividing the diameter of their trunk fairly at each divide – only if there is sufficient girth will it split. He took this concept and pruned his block accordingly, only leaving multiple shoots where the vine could handle it. In the dry 2020 vintage, his vines were the only ones that reached the top wire (of the trellis), with the others all struggling. His methodology was rapidly implemented throughout the vineyard. The vineyard supervisor is more like a coach than a manager, and the vineyard work is more integrated with the final product. For example, the pruning process starts with tasting the wine from the previous vintage, so they can align on the energy of the vines and any challenges, before taking their shears to the vine. “You can’t prune a vine without thinking what it tastes like,” Empting says – yet that is what many vineyard workers will have to do.  This responsibility isn’t something that everyone wants – but skilled labour is, along with water, key to the future in California.  Empting expects the valley floor to be entirely mechanised in the imminent future – and if that’s the case, the question is: “How are you going to retain the talent that you have – and gain more?” he says. While originally they didn’t want to give each Vine Master too much land, they’ve found they work almost 40% faster than a crew – able to work more efficiently, doing what is needed when it’s needed, saving on the transition time within plots.  There’s been a constant evolution in the winery as well, inevitable as they learn more about this remarkable place, and realise the potential of its terroir. The challenge is to tame the significant phenolics – and the shift here fits with that familiar pendulum swing, with a move towards elegance. As with the vineyard, the goal is to do less not more – something that isn’t always easy. “We wait all year to turn grapes into wine,” Empting explains – the excitement sometimes becoming overzealous.  While soil health was, as Empting describes it, “the first hurdle”, David Cilli (Winemaker at Promontory) had been doing much in the winery, gradually dialling in the extraction, with shorter macerations and cooler temperatures (with a maximum of just 26˚C), halving the number of pump-overs. The wine is now mainly fermented in concrete (all with indigenous yeast) and aged in Stockinger foudre – ranging in size from 10 to 60 hectolitres – for 30-36 months.  When they first made the wine, they thought that they’d want and need to separate out the different blocks – since they had such varied profiles. They decided they were willing to sacrifice as much volume as was needed to make the best wine possible for the first vintage, and set about making various micro-blends, as well as one that included everything. The whole was so much more – its harmony so much more appealing. “They need each other, in a weird way,” Empting explains.   Until now, the wine has been made exclusively with the old vines, those that were planted when they arrived, with the new vines not yet mature enough (the young-vine fruit has instead been used for The Mascot). The 2022 will be the first vintage to include some of their earliest replants, which are now 10 years old.  While shifts here have mainly been gradual, 2020 was a significant moment. The first wildfire took hold on 18th August, although it was across the valley – far enough away for there to be no urgent threat, but the team was (especially with 2017’s fires fresh in their memory) on edge. Empting recalls spending time driving up and down the valley watching what was happening. They grouped together and decided to start picking on 22nd August – a good two weeks earlier than normal. They weren’t certain it was the right decision, but also weren’t prepared to risk everything to wait. Two weeks after they finished, the Glass Fire swept through the valley. Anyone that hadn’t picked was at significant risk of smoke taint.  Nature might have forced their hand, but it was a push they needed. The resulting wine stunned them all. It’s a world away from the high-octane reds that Robert Parker favoured – and any Napa stereotype. This is a bright, pure and elegant expression of site that sits at around 13%. And while the team’s fear was that it might not have the tannic depth of a true “Grand Cru” – a wine destined to be cellared – that is simply not the case.  They realised they didn’t need those extra two weeks on the vine for phenolic ripeness. The dry growing season had meant the vine only had a small crop to ripen, helping them out, but the year totally shifted their perspective. In 2021, they picked on the same date. In 2022 – a noticeably hot and dry year – they picked even earlier.  Tasting the 2020 alongside the 2016, ’17 and ’18, the difference is drastic – although the progression is there in the earlier vintages. It marks a sea-change for the estate – one that may divide pundits. But the 2020 matches their vision of this place: while they think of Harlan as a wine of gravity, Promontory is a wine of “lift”.  The Harlan family’s wines don’t come cheap – but you aren’t just paying for good wine (and it is, undoubtedly, very good). Yes, it’s a smart winery, with the very best equipment. But the money isn’t going on new barrels and expensive consultants each year, it’s being invested in the people, place and practices that guarantee its legacy. The 2018 has only just been released, so the 2020 won’t hit the market until 2025. But like anything these visionaries do, it will be worth waiting for. Tasting Promontory 2016 Promontory Will Harlan describes the 2016 vintage as one of the first wines that they felt allowed them to compete on a global stage. Still incredibly youthful, it’s somehow almost approachable yet has significant structure behind. There’s a plush richness to the fruit, a firmness and depth to the tannins that needs time, yet a vibrancy too. It’s just starting to become more supple, yet the phenolics grip onto the finish, drying it out very slightly. The fruit is starting to mellow, mingling with savoury tones. Significantly more weight than the other vintages. 2017 Promontory Deeper and darker, the 2017 shows an intensity and firmness – its framework almost aggressive after the 2016. The structure is boxy, yet also refined, and starting to meld together with the bright, fresh fruit. With air the wine shifts from black to red fruit, relaxing into itself. Fruit reverberates on the mouth-watering finish. 2018 Promontory The 2018 confirms the direction of change. Although on paper the wine looks similar to 2016 (in terms of analytics), this is significantly different – offering a transparency and vibrancy. Empting describes it as “athletic” – a fitting way to describe a wine that feels lithe. The fruit sits on the red spectrum, with super-fine velvet tannins forming a chiselled, linear structure. There’s a lift and florality to the nose, complementing the long, pure palate. 2020 Promontory This is a wine of amazing precision and perfume. A pivotal vintage for the estate, picked two weeks earlier than normal and before fires swept through the valley, it’s a stunning wine. Extraction was gentler and the alcohol is around 13%. It’s a wine of brightness and texture – a fine, chalky, powdered grip of tannins that complements the seamless fruit. The nose shifts with florals and earthier minerality, a savoury, saline edge to the crunchy fruit and juicy acidity. There’s purity and delicacy, with a finesse that is truly remarkable. Find out more about Promontory, or read more Editorial

The Harlan family isn’t like other families. We spent time with Will Harlan and Managing Director of Winegrowing Cory Empting to talk about Promontory, the vision and philosophy behind it – and why the 2020 vintage is a pivotal moment in this special estate’s tale

How the Harlan family is creating Napa wine estates that are destined to become the stuff of myth: Promontory, Harlan and BOND

The Harlan legend and legacy – Promontory

Legend and legacy in Napa: the Harlan family and Promontory

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

2005 Charmes-Chambertin, Grand Cru, Dennis Bachelet “Denis Bachelet’s wines are part of our family history, and we have always followed the domaine. My family has been bottling their wines for two generations so we always had access to them and could see the evolution of the estate over the years. Today, Bachelet is considered one of the best domaines in Gevrey-Chambertin, especially for their Premier Cru and exceptional village wine. "They own vines in only one Grand Cru – Charmes-Chambertin, but in my opinion their Charmes is the best. The vines are over 90 years old and situated directly across from Chambertin. The wine is always beautifully calibrated and refined. I drank the 2005 with my family over Christmas; it was perfectly balanced, powerful, concentrated and the tannins beautifully silky. If you can hold off I would say it will reach its full potential in another five years or so, but it’s providing great drinking pleasure now too.” Antoine Ninot, Buyer 
 2017 Grüner Veltliner Smaragd, Ried Honivogl, Franz Hirtzberger, Wachau, Austria “I opened this over the festive period and was blown away by it. It’s probably the best Grüner Veltliner I’ve ever had. The nose was full of white flowers, tropical fruit and apricot. The apricot really made me miss Austria! The best time to visit the Wachau is the flowering of apricot trees in spring – Austria’s sakura.  "On the palate, the fruit continues, matched with spicy notes, minerality and honey. It is rich, and the oak barrels no doubt give it that creamy texture. With three years of age, it was in a perfect spot, but it will be nice to taste this bottle in a few years, the wine has so much potential. In terms of structure, it actually reminds me of Corton-Charlemagne. I had it with creamed chanterelles, utterly delicious!” Magda Riepler, Brand Designer 
2010 Brunello di Montalcino, Caparzo, Tuscany, Italy “After all the stunning 2016 Brunello releases that have been coming out in recent months, it spurred me to explore another great vintage from the region. I was keen to see how the 2010s, now with a bit of bottle age, are developing. My first of the 2010s was Caparzo’s Brunello which still remains remarkably vibrant at 10 years of age, but the tannins are now melding beautifully on the mid-palate and are fully integrated with the fruit.  "The nose needed coaxing to start and, while not exuberant, the measured, perfumed nose is deep and complex and notably clean – roasted cherries, sweet fresh tobacco, pot-pourri, incense, dried lavender, it’s all there! The palate is still taut but pure, with damson fruit dominating, complemented by orange bitters and dark chocolate notes. This is really enjoying its mid-life, still not at full potential but I love the clarity, it’s not drying at all on the finish. It remains pretty compact, but will no doubt unfurl over the next five years.” Gavin Smith, Fine Wine Editor 2004 Aloxe-Corton, Premier Cru, Les Vercots, Domaine Tollot-Beaut “There is something very satisfying catching a wine at its peak. Pop and pour and there is instantly a fragrant nose of cherries, and savoury leather. The tannins are totally integrated on the palate, so silky and fine, and finishes with a touch of mineral freshness. It’s a classic, elegant Aloxe-Corton from an underrated vintage, holding up well and drinking beautifully now. This wine was shipped to me in Hong Kong two months ago and I’m already on my third bottle!” Ken Hui, Senior Account Manager 2014 The Hilt, Chardonnay, Santa Rita Hills, California “With the New Year came another lockdown – I’ve lost track of which number it is – and after a long day of homeschooling and work, I recently enjoyed this bottle of New World Chardonnay. As with most French people, I used to only consider Burgundy for Chardonnay, but I was truly happy to see how well this wine could challenge my favourite region for white wines. I was instantly seduced by its minerality, the toasty oak notes and the slight brioche flavours that wonderfully enhance the white fruit flavours. It has a lovely concentration, but not overripe, and it has a delicious, long finish. I could definitely get used to this as my regular go-to lockdown treat!” Celian Ravel d’Estienne, Portfolio Advisor Read more on our Editorial section

Each month, we ask a handful of our team to pick a wine or spirit they’ve tasted recently – a bottle that surprised, delighted or merely lived up to high expectations. Here’s what they chose

Each month, we ask a handful of our team to pick a bottle that surprised, delighted or merely lived up to high expectations. Here’s what they chose

What our team is drinking

In the glass: what our team is drinking

2001 Château la Mission Haut-Brion, Pessac-Léognan, Bordeaux “A couple of weeks ago, in an attempt to try and cheer up ‘Lockdown 2.0’, I decided to order a fancy takeaway from a favourite local restaurant. It was a classic French menu – pâté to start, boeuf bourguignon for the main course, all topped off with a tarte tatin. To further brighten up the evening, I wanted to open something special from my collection, and landed on a bottle of 2001 La Mission Haut-Brion (it really had to be something French to go with  that menu!). It was the ideal accompaniment, perfectly in its drinking window. It was full of dark red fruit, and – while being absolutely strong enough to stand up to the strew – was also wonderfully elegant. Everything was exactly as it should be, this is a stupendous wine, wonderfully balanced, perfectly pure and just downright delicious.” Rose Saunders, Senior Sales Manager 2015 Domaine de la Grange des Pères Blanc, Pays d’Hérault “Perhaps my favourite quality of a truly great wine is its power to make any occasion special. That being said, many of my most memorable wine experiences are those which aren’t planned – as was exactly the case with this bottle of 2015 Grange des Pères Blanc. During a weekend break in Cornwall last month, I managed to bag a last-minute booking at Outlaw’s New Road, and on opening the wine list this line immediately caught my eye – a rare find at fine wine merchants, let alone on restaurant lists. I asked the waiter, who to my great disappointment told me the last bottle had sold earlier that day. However, Outlaw has a second restaurant down the road, and having confirmed they had one bottle left, he promptly jogged down a very steep hill, and back, to fetch it. “The wine itself is simply unlike anything else: 90% Roussanne with a little Chardonnay and Marsanne, made by a man who trained under François Coche-Dury, G’erard Chave and Eloi Dürrbach. The 2015 is still very young, a behemoth of aroma, flavour, structure and texture.
 Decanted and enjoyed over five hours, it was almost overpowering to begin with – with rich tropical fruit, spice, garrigue herbs, candied lemon and intense minerality. Continually softening and evolving with time, exhibiting an extraordinary array of nuances, this is a masterclass of how to balance raw power with freshness and finesse. One of the best bottles I’ve had this year, thank you to the brilliant team at Outlaw’s New Road for going the extra mile.” Simon Brewster, Senior Sales Manager Sennachie, 40-year-old, Cask #83/254-3, Blended Scotch Malt Whisky “Five undisclosed Speyside and Highland whiskies distilled in 1975, married in 1983 at the age of eight years, and thereafter aged at Springbank Distillery Campbeltown: this is the intriguing make-up of Sennachie’s 40-year-old Cask #83/254-3, a release of 195 bottles and one of the most fascinating whiskies I’ve had the pleasure of drinking. There are five single malt components to pick out, although it’s debatable whether it actually matters. They are in perfect harmony from the outset, with a delightful nose of honey, oranges, shortbread and sweet cinnamon spice. The palate is balanced with red apples, white chocolate and salted caramel. It’s complex and immensely drinkable. The only downside is the spirit’s unique nature; this combination of whiskies and events cannot be repeated, so it’s worth enjoying it while you can.” David Walters, Head of Spirits 2000 Clos de Vougeot, Grand Cru, Domaine Leroy “I had the privilege this autumn to taste one of the latest releases from Burgundy’s legendary Domaine Leroy, the 2000 Clos de Vougeot, in a restaurant setting – a rarity for 2020 – making the event perhaps even more special. Big, boisterous, but charming too, this perfect-condition bottle displayed epic concentration and a staggering purity of fruit, something Lalou notes of her 2000s. There was a tautness to everything, like a snake coiled and ready to pounce. Still youthful and gleaming, the perfumed nose was compelling and seemed to fill the entire room! A wine that stops you in your tracks and reminds you why Burgundy continues to run the world.” Tony Cody, Senior Sales Manager 2010 Gaia, Grosset, Clare Valley, Australia “It’s relatively rare for me not to drink French – but at my first post-lockdown meal at the Harwood Arms, this caught my eye on the list. I’ve long been a fan of the Grosset wines, and while Polish Hill may be the wine that gets the most press, they’ve clearly been putting effort into Gaia – a Cabernet that now stands up there with the world’s best. This, now a decade old, was still deeply coloured with an expressive nose of dark fruit (ripe blackberries, plums) with underlying tertiary notes. On the palate, the acidity lifted the overall ripe fruit profile from this warm vintage in South Australia. Concentrated and structured, with polished tannins, dried herb notes added complexity to the long finish. Caught at just the right moment, this was drinking beautifully – perhaps all the more so with the sweet taste of freedom.” Corentin Margier, Head of Buying Browse more Editorial 

Each month, we ask a handful of our team to pick a wine or spirit they’ve tasted recently. Here’s what they chose

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