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

Peat in whisky is divisive – both in terms of its intense flavour profile, but also its sustainability. It has long been used in Scotch whisky, adding complexity to the region’s spirits, but has – over the last two decades – been thrust into the limelight.  Essentially, peat is baby coal – decomposed organic matter, in particular sphagnum moss, that takes thousands of years to form. Historically, these peatlands – wetlands such as bogs and fens – were used for fuel, especially where other energy sources weren’t readily available. Slabs of peat, cut out of the ground and left to dry, were burnt, valued for their ability to (like coal) smoulder steadily. Peat would have originally been used to heat pot stills, giving off intensely scented smoke that distillers eventually looked to capture.  Today, energy sources are largely more sustainable, and peat is used in significantly smaller volumes in the kilning process. After the barley has been malted, it is kilned (essentially dried). For peated whiskies, this is done (at least in part) over a peat-fed fire, so that the barley picks up the flavours from the smoke. This barley is then milled, mashed, fermented and distilled to produce the whisky, with the peat smoke lending flavours that range from soot, smoke and asphalt to seaweed and iodine.   Peatlands have been put in the spotlight with climate change, given their incredible capacity to hold carbon – and release it. As a NatureScot report (2023) states, “Although peatlands cover less than 3% of the world’s surface, it is estimated that they store double the amount of carbon held in global forest biomass and more than 30% of the total global soil carbon store (Bonn et al., 2016). Peatlands make up some 9.5% of the UK’s land area with an estimated carbon store of over 3,200 million tonnes, of which 1,600 million tonnes are estimated to be in Scotland (Bonn et al., 2016).” But while they have an impressive ability to lock away carbon, once peatlands are damaged they release some of that carbon – and the same report estimates that degraded peatlands account for circa 13% of Scotland’s carbon emissions. (It’s worth noting that the same institution – then known as Scottish National Heritage – came under fire in 2020 for its agreement with Diageo, allowing for unlimited peat extraction on Islay.)  Peat accumulates at a mere 1mm a year, so it’s easy to see why peat extraction is a hot topic. Protecting and restoring Scotland’s peatlands are firmly on the national agenda, and in 2020, the Scottish government announced £20 million earmarked for restoration, with a commitment to invest more than £250 million by 2030. Unsurprisingly, it’s put Scotch whisky’s use of peat under the magnifying glass. In reality, a fraction (just 1%) of Scotland’s peat goes to the spirits industry – with horticulture the main culprit.  As Bruichladdich’s Head Distiller Adam Hannett says, however, it has provided “a great lens to look at what we’re doing with peatlands”. For him, “It’s about responsible extraction.” Bruichladdich’s production director is also looking at restoration projects with local farmers. In 2021, two giants of the industry announced significant projects – one from Diageo’s Johnnie Walker, partnering with the RSPB to repair wetlands, and a more ambitious pledge from Beam Suntory, with its Peatland Water Sanctuary Initiative. The project aims to restore twice the volume that the company harvests for use in whisky production, with $4 million invested by 2040. Some producers – such as Nc’nean – have sworn off peat totally, while others are moderating usage, or looking for alternatives.   In Sweden – where peatlands represent up to 20% of the entire land area, Mackmyra’s Blender Lii Johnson explains how there is strict regulation around their usage. They are one of a growing number of producers looking to use peat as another way to explore their terroir. As few producers malt and kiln their own barley today, often this is shipped from Scotland (in turn adding to distilleries’ carbon footprints). At Mackmyra, they instead use Karinmossen – local peat, harvested around 40km south of the distillery – seasoned with juniper twigs. She estimates they use a mere 0.1% of the peat bog, bringing in around 30 cubic metres per year.  Johnson feels that it is the juniper in the Karinmossen, along with the small twigs they add (picked from the woods around the distillery), which give a light citrus, almost medicinal note to their peated malts. In Seattle, Westland has pioneered using local peat, and a process with a backhoe to keep the bog intact and limit their carbon footprint. Co-Founder and Managing Director Matthew Hofmann feels the local peat brings Mezcal-like aromas to their peated whisky, Solum.   This quest for sustainability, combined with emphasis on the concept of terroir in whisky, has had interesting results at distilleries around the world. In Minnesota, Brother Justus sources peat from the Boreal Forest and has trademarked a cold-peating process to produce more delicate aromas. Tasmanian distillery Lark looks to Browns Marsh for its peat (around one cubic metre a year) and has had the International Mire Conservation Group confirm that it is having zero impact on the marsh. Others are looking to use alternatives – New Zealand’s Thomson Whisky uses manuka, while Archie Rose has looked to Australian hardwoods and, perhaps most distinctively, Iceland’s Eimverk sources sheep dung from local farms in lieu of peat.  As we’ve touched on, however, it’s not just what is used to peat malt – but how it’s used, that impacts the flavour of the final whisky. “Duration, in my opinion, is the key,” says Mackmyra’s Johnson, emphasising that it is how long the barley spends in contact with the peat smoke that influences the level of peatiness, while it is only the type of peat (or peat alternative) that will effect the nature of the peat flavour. She explains how whether the barley is peated pre- or post-break is also important: it’s most common to do pre-break, as if it is done post-break, when the barley is largely dry on the surface, it doesn’t pick up phenols – the compounds that produce peat’s smoky flavours. For Mackmyra’s peated barley, it is kilned for one day with peat and then for a second day just with hot air.  There are other factors too however – with fermentation times and cuts often a focus. While longer ferments are generally thought to engender complexity, shorter ferments preserve phenols. There are three factions to a still run – the foreshots, heart and feints. The foreshots and feints, the liquid that runs off first and last, are generally discarded, and the cuts between these determine the character of the heart. Phenols generally come late in the distillation process, so later cuts can be preferential when looking for peat character. For Mackmyra’s Extra Rok 2.0 – an extra-peated malt, they do shorter ferments and a later cut, to preserve the phenols.   It's become fashionable to talk about “ppm” in peated whisky – parts per million (perhaps familiar to wine lovers as the same term that is used for sulphur levels), to measure the level of total phenolic compounds. It’s perhaps unsurprising that the compounds are the same as those for smoke taint, including guaiacol and 4-methylguaiacol, for example, but while in the world of wine these are avoided, distillers of peated whiskies have competed to produce the spirit with the highest. This race to make the peatiest whisky possible was arguably inspired by Compass Box’s Peat Monster (first produced in 2003), building to and culminating with Bruichladdich’s Octomore 8.3 (released in 2017) – a whisky with a remarkable 309ppm, the highest level measured to date (compare this to the first Octomore release which had 131ppm). In this frenzied period, Ardbeg’s Dr Bill Lumsden even buried a barrel of peated whisky in a peat bog (which was released as an NFT in 2022, Ardbeg Fon Fhòid). But while one number is an easy way for whisky drinkers to grasp how peaty a spirit is, not everyone believes it’s helpful.  “We don’t like to talk about those numbers,” says Johnson. She explains how ppms are somewhat farcical, in her view. When the reading is taken varies from distillery to distillery, and therefore provides something that is almost impossible to compare. While most are taken at the mashbill stage, if you are later blending, it’s an estimate at best. Not only that, but the make-up of the phenolic compounds will influence how peaty one 100ppm whisky is versus another 100ppm whisky. For Mackmyra, their pure peated malt sits at around 300ppm, but the mashbill for their peated and extra peated whiskies are respectively around 70 and 140ppm, Johnson reluctantly tells me. The level of phenols can also vary significantly between batches of barley – and at Mackmyra they aim to combat this by doing one kilning a year, distilling all their peated whisky at once and blending the batches to create a consistent product.  It's almost for this exact reason that Bruichladdich created Octomore, Head Distiller Adam Hannett explains. The project’s numbered releases have significantly different levels of peatiness, and were a project inspired by their curiosity to see how far they could push the peat level, as well as their partnership with Bairds maltings, who had batches of barley with irregular phenol numbers.   Although peat is intrinsically associated with Islay’s malts, things aren’t as clear-cut today – and as Hannett says, “You can’t categorise flavour by region”. Islay-based Bruichladdich produces both peated and unpeated whiskies. Originally the distillery made heavily peated malts, switching to unpeated styles in the 1960s, and today makes both. Its Port Charlotte brand was first conceived to capture what Bruichladdich would have been like in the old days, as a heavily peated malt. Intriguingly, Bruichladdich briefly tried using Islay peat, however found that they couldn’t get the phenol levels as high. Hannett highlights that another element in phenol levels is the depth the peat is cut from – with lower levels having more vegetation and therefore more phenols.  For Bruichladdich, when they’re looking for an overtly peated spirit, the quality of the underlying spirit is key – working with the right barley and fermentation times, for example. While peated malts might be thought of as heavy, oily and medicinal, they try to avoid this character. He deliberately won’t delay making a cut in the name of phenols, with that decision based on quality – and the result, he feels, is that, “The essence of the peat smoke is light – it’s barbecued.” For him, it’s about the balance between the peat character and everything else.  For blending specialists, House of Hazelwood, peated whisky “is a tool in our arsenal we can use to build a complex blend”, says Eilidh Muir from their Whisky Blending Team. She emphasises that using peat doesn’t necessarily equate to a smoky whisky, but can contribute something to a blend that is much harder to pin down – but something you’d notice if it wasn’t there. “A whisky dominated by a single flavour is often too one-dimensional,” she says – they too are looking for that fine balance.  Peat is just one element that can be used to shape a spirit – and there remains a certain amount of mystery to its influence. The sustainability question isn’t going away, but – as Bruichladdich’s Hannett says, “I don’t know what the solution is at the moment… but we’re looking for one.” As producers look for an answer, they’re pushing boundaries – experimenting with local sources and alternatives – something that will only benefit whisky-lovers, and the environment.  Browse a range of peated whisky or read more about spirits 

Iodine, seaweed, soot and smoke: for some, peat’s trademark tasting notes are off-putting, for others they’re the pinnacle of fine whisky. Sophie Thorpe spoke to Bruichladdich, House of Hazelwood and Mackmyra about peat, ppms, its potential sustainability problem, how it’s being used today

Bruichladdich, House of Hazelwood and Mackmyra on peat – how it’s used, whether it’s sustainable and the alternatives being employed in whisky today

How whisky distillers are using peat today

The big smoke: peat and whisky

Go into any winery in the world, and it’s now unusual not to find a glass wine globe or clay amphora lurking in the corner. Oak has long been the traditional ageing vessel for wine – light, easily transportable, the grain fine enough to allow micro-oxygenation (aiding the polymerisation of tannins, making the wine more supple), and, especially when new, the ability to add toasty, spicy complexity. But with technology and global warming, many winemakers are looking beyond oak – and Jean-Marie Fourrier is one of them.  “We noticed the barrels generating the most problems were new oak,” says Fourrier. He and his team had been monitoring each barrel during élevage, and started noticing a trend. They observed that the volatile acidity was 0.2-0.3% higher in first-fill barrels. To compensate for the higher volatility, Fourrier had to add more sulphur to those barrels, something that he’d like to avoid – feeling that higher sulphur additions can mask the terroir.  But why were the new barrels the most volatile? With climate change, trees – Fourrier argues – are growing more quickly, meaning that their trunks don’t have the same density, and this is responsible for the increased volatility. He’s not alone in paying attention to the density of wood; it’s something that Clos de Sarpe has started monitoring, weighing each barrel and noting how this impacts the wine during élevage. Fourrier also feels that climate change has impacted cork, as he told me in 2021 – noting how cork is harvested every seven to eight years versus the 20 of yesteryear. The corks are less dense and this leads to higher oxygen transfer – it’s one reason that he chooses to wax his wines (instead of metal capsules), to help counter the quality of the cork itself, something that Olivier Lamy also believes is important.  With the extremes of climate change, the size of harvests varies more significantly than ever before – from the lows of 2021 to the highs of 2023. The pHs of wines are higher, making winemaking all the more tricky – a more challenging environment for yeast and higher risks of bacterial spoilage. Producers need to handle their wines more carefully, as well as juggle the vessels required for such extreme yield variations. If barrels are left empty, they become a breeding ground for bacteria, especially brettanomyces – so having the right number of vessels for your wine each year is essential, not to mention retaining a balance of new and old wood, to keep both a consistent style and not over- or under-oak the wines. (Some producers also only keep barrels for a certain number of years, again to avoid bacterial spoilage.)  “How can I age wine, keeping freshness, keeping purity?” says Fourrier, “Is 100% oak the direction? I don’t think so, to be honest, I think it’s a balance.” There were two options for him: either increase the level of sulphur additions, purely for the “ideology of wood” – or to evolve.  For him, using amphorae and stainless steel barrels alleviates some of these pressures – offering lower volatility, almost no bacterial risks and the vessels can be stored empty and more easily cleaned, not to mention they don’t need replacing. While he notes he is not about to release a “Cuvée Amphora”, ageing 20% of his wines in these alternatives allows for lower volatility, lower total sulphites and, in his view, helps give the wines freshness, complexity and a sense of place.   The 2022 vintage is the latest to bring these challenges to the fore; a return to a year born of global warming after the tricky, cool 2021. While for once they escaped the threat of frost, conditions were hot – although, unlike in 2019 or 2020, they received enough water to allow for a more plentiful crop. Gevrey-Chambertin saw a massive storm in June, bringing with it 100mm of rain in just an hour or so, flooding the streets of the village. Although it seemed devastating at the time, it was exactly what the vines needed to survive the dry stretch to the end of August and harvest at the start of September.  Although harvest dates creep earlier and earlier, Fourrier feels that some are picking prematurely (“We don’t do a Crémant,” he jokes). “Terroir needs to be revealed by phenolic maturity,” he explains, saying that his team started in early September. With the warmth of the year, he used around 15-20% whole-bunch to help retain freshness and elegance, and, as we’ve seen elsewhere so far, the alcohols are modest – sitting between 12.8 and 13.5%. The wines combine some of the characteristics of 2009 and 2015, Fourrier feels, yet are fresher, with an approachability that – as we have found – will make them easy to drink in their youth, despite having the structure and weight to age.  But now Fourrier’s mind is occupied by the 2023s, the wines just in the cellar – absorbed by the potential of the next vintage. It's this slow and constant evolution, the change and challenges, year in, year out, that keep him interested. With only one shot every 12 months, this business is, he says, “an internship of 40 years”. And it’s that approach – a modesty in the face of everything despite his reputation, constantly pushing forward, studying everything and never complacent – that makes Fourrier one of the region’s leading names. We’ve no doubt that his 2022s will be another display of his mastery.  Browse all current listings from Jean-Marie Fourrier and Domaine Fourrier, or read more about Burgundy 2022

The 2022 vintage in Burgundy is a year of the modern era – one born of today’s shifting climate. As the first of his wines from the year are released, Sophie Thorpe spoke to Jean-Marie Fourrier about how he’s managing global warming in the cellar – and what he thinks of 2022

We talk to iconic Burgundian winemaker Jean-Marie Fourrier about how to handle climate change in the cellar – and what he thinks of the 2022 vintage

Jean-Marie Fourrier – student and master

Student and master: Jean-Marie Fourrier

Bordeaux is arguably the world’s most famous wine region – known for producing some of the finest wines in existence, with a long history stretching back to the Roman era. But the region is broadly divided in two – the Left and Right Bank. (Terms that you may also hear in reference to Paris, and – less frequently – Chablis.)  The region is defined by its waterways – a forked tongue that snakes southeast from the Atlantic. The Gironde estuary is fed by the Dordogne and Garonne rivers, with the Gironde flowing into the Atlantic. The south-eastern side of the Gironde and Garonne is the Left Bank, while the north-western side of the Gironde and Dordogne is the Right Bank. The section of land that sits between the fork of the Garonne and Dordogne is the intuitively named Entre-Deux-Mers (literally translating as “between two seas”), and is mostly home to more everyday, entry-level wine – although quality has certainly improved here with both climate change and technical advancements (such as Ch. Marjosse).  The Left and Right Banks, however, are where you’ll find Bordeaux’s most illustrious names. While both regions craft exceptional wines, they are extremely different in terms of terroir, the grapes grown, the estates themselves and how the wines are classified.  The Left Bank The Left Bank is the aristocratic and historic home of fine wine in Bordeaux, famous for the 1855 classification of the Médoc, a ranking of the top estates of the region which still stands today, including the fabled First Growths – Ch. Latour, Ch. Lafite Rothschild, Ch. Mouton Rothschild, Ch. Margaux and Ch. Haut-Brion.  It was Bordeaux’s ties to England that saw it rise to prominence – after Eleanor of Aquitaine married Henry Plantagenet in 1152. With Bordeaux under English rule, favourable tax rates saw the industry thrive. But the Médoc was, at that point in time, a marshland not worthy of wine-growing – with the best wines coming from Graves estates like Ch. Haut-Brion (where vines have been grown since at least the early 15th century).  It was only in the mid-17th century that the Dutch drained the marshy Médoc, creating the well-drained gravel soils that are now a haven for Cabernet Sauvignon. It was after this that most of the region’s grandest properties were established.  The aforementioned 1855 classification cemented the Médoc’s place in history, with the wines of Sauternes and Barsac categorised at the same time. The wines of the Graves were classified in 1959, while the Left Bank is also home to the Cru Bourgeois and Cru Artisan classifications.  The Left Bank encompasses, from north to south: the Médoc (which includes the prestigious communes of Saint-Estèphe, Pauillac, Saint-Julien, Margaux, as well as Listrac and Moulis), the Haut-Médoc, Pessac-Léognan and Graves, as well as Barsac and Sauternes. Although the area of course encompasses dry whites and sweets, stylistically “Left Bank” is used mainly in reference to the reds, which represent the vast majority of production.   The soils on this side of the Gironde are dominated by gravel, with the best sites sitting on deep gravels over clay subsoils. The vineyards are more spread out here, with patches of woodland and other agricultural land between the pockets of fine terroir, making distances and journey-times between estates longer. The gentle, barely undulating landscape masks significant differences in the soils, which determine the success of a site, with the mounds divided by streams known locally as “jalles”. Deeper gravel has historically been a significant advantage in the region’s maritime climate, avoiding water-logging and retaining heat that helps to ripen the grapes. Proximity to the Gironde and its moderating influence can also help shield vines from frosts, an increasing threat in the springtime.  Estates can be quite large on the Left Bank – for example, Ch. Cos d’Estournel comprises 100 hectares – allowing for higher production levels, which means the wines tend to be more widely available and can be found more easily on the secondary market, even at the highest quality level. The properties also tend to have picture-perfect châteaux, immaculate architectural displays of the wealth of the region.  Cabernet Sauvignon leads the way in terms of plantings, thriving in those warm gravel soils (and complemented by parcels of Merlot, Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot, with some limited Malbec and Carménère). The variety produces small berries with thick skins, creating tannic, age-worthy reds.  The wine style varies between commune and estate, but generally speaking the wines of the Left Bank are dominated by graphite, cassis and blackcurrant leaf, full-bodied yet with a more linear structure that Cabernet Sauvignon provides. Historically the wines were austere in youth and needed time in the cellar, but wines today are made to be more approachable so that they have longer drinking windows. With age, the best wines develop beautiful complexity with notes of leather, cedar, tobacco and more.  The Right Bank The most famous wines of the Right Bank come from Saint-Emilion and Pomerol, however it is also home to: the Côtes de Blaye, Côtes de Bourg, Fronsac, Canon-Fronsac, Lalande-de-Pomerol, Côtes de Castillon, Côtes de Francs and the Saint-Emilion satellites – Lussac-Saint-Emilion, Montagne-Saint-Emilion, Saint-Georges-Saint-Emilion and Puisseguin-Saint-Emilion.  Although wine has long been made on the Right Bank, the wines – other than those of Ch. Cheval Blanc – were not known widely until relatively recently. The region’s modern history is tied to one man – the influential critic Robert Parker. He was one of the first to highlight the quality being produced at smaller Right Bank estates in the 1980s and 1990s, and put the wines on the international stage. His penchant for rich, ripe, concentrated styles prompted a wave of producers who did extensive green-harvesting, working with tiny yields, picking late, extracting heavily and ageing in new French oak, a style favoured by the far-reaching and famous consultant Michel Rolland.  Pomerol became home to the “garagistes”, after Jean-Luc Thunevin crafted his first vintage of Valandraud in his garage in 1991. These modern producers, who didn’t come with the land and smart châteaux found on the Left Bank, captured the imagination of consumers, and rapidly became highly sought-after.  Fashions have changed for the most part, and the wines produced today across the Right Bank are significantly more restrained – reflecting the general move toward freshness and aromatic finesse.   Of course, one reason that the wines of the Right Bank were less well-known was the smaller size of estates and therefore smaller volumes being produced – especially in Pomerol. Pétrus, for example, consists of 11.5 hectares, while Ch. Lafleur is a mere 4.5. In Saint-Emilion, Ch. Cheval Blanc and Angélus both have 39 hectares – a more generous vineyard area, but still relatively small in comparison to those in the Médoc. This means that the wines from the top estates are often strictly allocated and can be very hard to secure, with significantly less available on the secondary market.  The area feels very different to the Left Bank, with a more rolling landscape with more nooks and crannies, meaning you often can’t see what lies over the hill. The soils here are also significantly different, dominated by clay and limestone, with some sand and gravel. These soils stay cooler and retain more water, something that can be very helpful in hot, dry seasons (as in 2022). The finest wines come from the limestone plateau at the heart of Saint-Emilion and Pomerol plateau, with its pockets of rare blue clay. Limestone has an additional benefit of retaining freshness and acidity in the wines, with wines from limestone-dominant soils often having low pH.  Plantings are dominated by Merlot and Cabernet Franc (sometimes known locally as Bouchet), rather than Cabernet Sauvignon (which can struggle in the damp soils, although producers are planting a little more of the variety in response to climate change). Many wines from Pomerol are 100% Merlot (with estates such as Vieux Château Certan notable exceptions), while in Saint-Emilion the blends tend to include more Cabernet Franc. Merlot produces larger, thinner-skinned berries, and therefore Right Bank wines are generally softer, plusher, with a rounder texture, softer tannins, often floral with a redder fruit profile (cherry, plum), and can sometimes be exotic in perfume.   Unlike on the Left Bank, most of the wines are not classified formally, however Saint-Emilion introduced its own classification in the 1950s – one that has become a source of controversy.  Beyond Saint-Emilion and Pomerol, the other appellations can produce some fantastic wines, and – given the difficulty with buying additional land within these two illustrious areas – many of the Right Bank’s leading names have estates here (such as Ch. Lafleur’s Grand Village or Perrières, and LEglise-Clinet’s Montlandrie or Les Cruzelles). These can be a great source of value.  It’s worth noting that vintages are sometimes described as “Left Bank” or “Right Bank” years, and it is true that conditions can sometimes favour one side over the other, however the picture is often more complicated and results can vary according to individual estate, as well as commune.  Read more about Bordeaux or browse all Bordeaux listings 

Bordeaux is a fascinating and complex region. It is often divided in two – the Left and Right Bank. Here, we break down the differences between the two Banks – from terroir and grape varieties to the size of the estates and style of the wines

Talking about Bordeaux’s Left and Right Bank: exploring the differences between the regions, wines and estates on either side of the Gironde

Wines of Bordeaux’s Left Bank versus Right Bank

Bordeaux: the Left Bank versus the Right Bank

Bordeaux has several different classification systems. While the Right Bank has only Saint-Emilion’s system (one that is a source of controversy), the Left Bank has a more complex web of rankings.   
The 1855 classification is the gold standard. The most famous and influential of them all, it lists the Left Bank’s very top estates. But beyond this crème de la crème, there are several other systems ranking properties – namely the Graves classification, the Crus Bourgeois and Crus Artisans.  
The Graves classification  
Almost 100 years after the famous 1855 classification, producers in the Graves decided to create their own equivalent. Other than Ch. Haut-Brion, the region’s properties had not been included in the 1855 classification. A draft of the classification was drawn up in 1953, then the official list ratified in 1958, with some changes in 1959.  
The Graves classification is much simpler than the 1855 classification. There is only one tier, with estates declared “Grand Cru Classé de Graves” for white wine, red wine, or both. Sixteen estates in total were defined as the region’s best. Couhins, Couhins-Lurton and Laville Haut-Brion were classified for only their white wines, while Fieuzal, Haut-Bailly, Haut-Brion, La Mission Haut-Brion, Pape-Clément, Smith Haut Lafitte and La Tour Haut-Brion were classified only for their reds.  
Interestingly,. Ch. Haut-Brion is only classified for red, however this is not because its white was not deemed worthy, but because it did not apply for classification, given production of the illustrious wine is so small. It remains one of the region’s highest-rated and most expensive whites. 
Although there have been no changes since 1959, some of the wines are no longer made under the same name. Both part of the Clarence Dillon family, Ch. Laville Haut-Brion is now bottled as Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion Blanc, while fruit from La Tour Haut-Brion is now used for the second wine of La Mission, La Chapelle de la Mission Haut-Brion (read more about the genealogy of the Haut-Brion estates here).  
The Pessac-Léognan appellation was only introduced in 1987, so some of the wines are bottled under this today.  1959 Graves classification  Ch. Bouscaut (red and white)  Ch. Carbonnieux (red and white)  Domaine de Chevalier (red and white)  Ch. Couhins (white only)  Ch. Couhins-Lurton (white only)  Ch. de Fieuzal (red only)  Ch. Haut-Bailly (red only)  Ch. Haut-Brion (red only, also part of the 1855 classification)  Ch. Latour-Martillac (red and white)  Ch. Laville-Haut-Brion (white only, now the white of La Mission Haut-Brion)  Ch. Malartic-Lagravière (red and white)  Ch. La Mission Haut-Brion (red only)  Ch. Olivier (red and white)  Ch. Pape-Clément (red only)  Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte (red only)  Ch. la Tour-Haut-Brion (red only)  The Crus Bourgeois  The term “Cru Bourgeois” has long been used casually, but it was introduced as a formal classification in 1932. There have been many changes to the classification over the years. There were 444 properties in the original group, many of whom used the term on their labels even though the classification was never officially ratified. In 2003, after three years of debate, the classification was updated and split into three tiers (with Cru Bourgeois Supérieur and Exceptionnel added), only to be annulled in 2007, with the term then banned from labels. In 2010, the Cru Bourgeois classification was re-introduced and assigned to wines rather than estates, with their status re-assessed each year, but this too was soon replaced.  
In 2020, a new version of the classification was unveiled, going back to the three tiers of Cru Bourgeois, Cru Bourgeois Supérieur and Cru Bourgeois Exceptionnel. The top rank of “Exceptionnel” includes just 14 estates, with 56 Crus Bourgeois Supérieurs and 179 Crus Bourgeois (adding up to a total 249 properties). The classification is only being assessed every five years, with the next iteration set to be announced in 2025.   
The classification is decided based on the quality and consistency of the wine (assessed via rigorous blind tasting), traceability and authentication, with sustainability encouraged and rewarded. While these wines are not as highly regarded or sought after as those in the 1855 classification, the wines generally offer good value, and all come from the Médoc, Haut-Médoc, Listrac, Moulis, Margaux, Saint-Julien, Pauillac and Saint-Estèphe. Find the full, current classification on the Crus Bourgeois website. 
The Crus Artisans  
The Left Bank also has the Cru Artisan classification, designed to highlight smaller operations where the manager/owner is involved in every stage of production. The term has been used for over 150 years, however its official meaning was introduced in 1989. The classification was launched in its current guise in 2006, open to estates in the Médoc, Haut-Médoc, Listrac, Moulis, Margaux, Saint-Julien, Pauillac and Saint-Estèphe. Generally family-owned, properties must grow their own grapes, then make and sell the wines.  
There were 44 Cru Artisan estates in 2006, but the latest classification (unveiled in 2018) included only 36 – with many addresses sold/absorbed by other producers, some retiring, as well as a handful of new names added. The classification is based on a visit to the estate and blind tasting of its wines. On average, Crus Artisans have just 10 hectares of vines. Find the full current classification on the Crus Artisans website. 
Read more about Bordeaux or browse all Bordeaux listings


While the 1855 classification is the most famous and influential classification on the Left Bank, there are several other classifications in operation today. Here’s everything you need to know about Bordeaux’s Graves classification, the Crus Bourgeois and Crus Artisans 

Looking beyond the 1855 classification in Bordeaux: discover everything you need to know about the 1959 Graves, Cru Bourgeois and Cru Artisan classifications

Graves, Cru Bourgeois and Cru Artisan in Bordeaux

Your guide to Bordeaux’s other classifications: Graves, Cru Bourgeois and Cru Artisan

Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon is a legend of the industry. When he took the helm at Louis Roederer in 1999, he became Champagne’s youngest Chef de Cave, aged just 33. In a rare move for the time, he fought to ensure he was in charge of both the vineyards and winery – knowing that the former would define the wines he produced. Since then he’s continued to push boundaries in the name of quality.  The house is one of the last to remain family-owned and – even more rarely for a Grande Marque – it owns an impressive 242 hectares of vines, providing enough fruit for around 70% of its production. Lécaillon transformed the way Roederer farmed, pushing first for an organic, then biodynamic approach – with half the vineyards now certified organic and half worked biodynamically, and no herbicides used at all. The results speak for themselves – with the house’s prestige cuvée Cristal arguably the finest and most sought-after in the region.  And the man himself is as effervescent as the wines he crafts. Lécaillon is clearly still enchanted by the world of wine –absorbed by its complexities and totally excited by it. Talking to him at a recent tasting, he explains his aim simply: “We are going beyond the bubbles.”  For him, Champagne has traded on its fizz for too long. The wines were once sweet and served with dessert, they then became dry and were used as an aperitif, before becoming inextricably tied to celebrations – a curse that has limited the way Champagne is seen, and savoured. The industry has capitalised on its occasionality, but behind those bubbles – Lécaillon insists – is “a real terroir, a real wine”. It is this exact sentiment that is behind the Grower movement – something that Lécaillon clearly identifies with – however the movement also poses a threat to those trying to source fruit. For the little fruit Roederer doesn’t grow themselves (30% of their production), Lécaillon picks specific plots from around the region and tries to encourage growers to use a sustainable approach. The team will visit the vineyards in spring and summer, and choose the picking date with the grower. While today it’s sometimes tricky to persuade growers to change the way they farm, Lécaillon anticipates a generational shift will take place as more sustainability-invested children take over from their parents. Roederer used to buy fruit from Anselme Selosse, but – naturally –the star vigneron now keeps it all for himself. The fear is that the new generation won’t want to sell their fruit – leaving the Grandes Marques only lesser sites, farmed without the same stringency.  Everything Lécaillon has done at Roederer has been about championing site. He arrived at the house in 1989, but set off instantly for the property’s projects in Anderson Valley, California and then Jansz in Tasmania, returning to Champagne in 1994. Between 1996 and 1998, he worked on a soil study of the house’s vineyards, as well as an archive study – tasting wines back to 1876. When he took over in 1999, he separated all the plots – with 45 specific mid-slope chalky sites dedicated exclusively to Cristal, fruit for the Blanc de Blancs coming from their La Côte estate in Avize and the vintage wine based around Pinot Noir from their La Montagne estate in Verzy.  Changing the viticulture was the next step. In the 1970s, ’80s and even ’90s, Champagne’s soils were a literal dumping ground – with Paris’s rubbish used as “fertiliser”. Lécaillon is one of many that has pushed for change in this area. He feels that organic farming produces better fruit with more dry extract and concentration, but also healthier vines that are stronger and more resistant to the vagaries of vintage – and climate change. Half the property’s vines are now farmed biodynamically – including all the plots used for Cristal.  In a bid to further champion their terroir, Lécaillon established the region’s first private nursery in 2015. He wanted to gather different massale selections from the Roederer vineyards – cuttings from pre-clonal vines that he feels have adapted to climate change and will be key to the house’s (and Cristal’s) future. He claims that it’s the biggest private collection of Pinot Noir in France, and they’ve now expanded the nursery to include not just Chardonnay and Meunier, but all seven of the region’s permitted varieties – including the little-planted Arbane, Petit Meslier, Pinot Gris and Pinot Blanc. The Chef de Cave feels that field blends with these varieties could be the future with climate change – adding freshness to the wine. Over the last two decades, Lécaillon’s work in the vineyard has brought further freshness and precision to the wines – and the introduction of Collection was the latest step in that direction, a move to “bring [the wine] closer to the terroir”.  Cristal might be the jewel in the house’s crown, but a non-vintage blend is any house’s calling card – representing the most significant volume produced (75% at Roederer) and the wine that reaches the most people. It is, Lécaillon says, always the hardest to produce, the most complex to blend – and yet also the one that receives the least attention.  Roederer’s Brut Premier was introduced in 1986, but back then Champagne was more marginal, viticulture and winemaking less advanced, and the battle was for ripeness. In vintage years, the fruit was actually ripe; the art of non-vintage blends was correcting the under-ripeness of the other years with reserve wines. Now, with climate change and the evolution of farming, Champagne has riper fruit than ever before, and an increasing number of vintage-quality years. “The battle now is not for ripeness, but for freshness,” Lécaillon explains. Collection 242 was released in September 2021, with many initially mourning the loss of Brut Premier; people, however, have been won round. As has become fashionable (along with the likes of Krug or even Nyetimber), the wine is “multi-vintage” or “MV” rather than “NV” or “non-vintage”. In Lécaillon’s view, “NV” is “corrective”, whereas, “MV is the story of the new Champagne”. Their aim is no longer consistency, but to make the best possible wine in that year.   He points to 2002 as a pivotal year in the journey to Collection. It was a stunning growing season, with every plot producing wine of vintage quality – but to build a consistent non-vintage wine, they had to “destroy” the quality of each. While Lécaillon feels Brut Premier was an “outlier” in the range, Collection is “more Roederer”, “more Champagne” – which, for him, has to have an oyster-shell salinity.  A key part of developing Collection was creating a perpetual reserve. Held in an enormous 10,000hl stainless steel tank, this reserve is a constantly evolving blend of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. Started in 2012, it contains wine from every harvest since, stored without oxygen, in the depths of their cellar where the temperature is cool and stable. This, Lécaillon feels, brings extra texture, depth and a “vintage dimension” to Collection – without the heaviness that he saw in Brut Premier.  The blend also includes more traditional reserves aged in oak (around 10% of the final blend), all with fruit from the younger vines in plots otherwise dedicated to Cristal (only 20-year-old vines make it into the prestige cuvée). The most important element here is that the toasting of the barrels is very light, what Lécaillon describes as a “white toast”, so that it doesn’t dominate the terroir.  Collection 242 was followed by 243 last year – and they are two extremely different wines, the 243 riper and richer versus 242’s more mineral expression. This – for Lécaillon – is what makes an “MV” approach so much more interesting, for both him and wine-drinkers. It is, he tells me, “a blank page every year”.  With everything from zero-dosage experiments to rootstock trials, Lécaillon is constantly looking for ways to improve – with a relentless zest and enthusiasm. For this vigneron, a blank page isn’t daunting – it’s a chance to express his terroir.  Explore all listings from Champagne Louis Roederer or read more Editorial 

The man who crafts Cristal, Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon, is one of Champagne’s most pioneering winemakers. We sat down with the man himself to look back at his journey so far – and discuss why it’s high time people started taking Champagne seriously.

The man who crafts Cristal, Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon, is one of Champagne’s most pioneering winemakers. 

Jean-Baptiste Lecaillon of Louis Roederer

Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon: Champagne “beyond the bubbles”

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

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

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

Sitting down with wine writer Andrew Jefford

Andrew Jefford: wielding words

The 2021 vintage in Bordeaux is not another 2018, 2019 or 2020. Indeed, this is a year that is seemingly without precedent. It was a year first and foremost of the wine-grower. Forget the idea that the best wines are made with minimal intervention, naturally conjured from fine terroir and effortlessly evolving in the cellar: that’s an illusion at the best of times. To succeed in 2021, producers had to put in serious graft. They needed to be out amongst the vines day in, day out. And then they needed to follow that through in the winery. Several had already written off the year after hearing about the frost and mildew that plagued the growing season (about which you can read much more in our detailed report). In our view, that’s a mistake. It’s not the vintage of the century, and anyone would be foolish to pretend it is – but there are some brilliant wines, especially for those who are partial to more elegant styles, lower alcohol levels and freshness. It’s important to caveat that when we discuss a vintage en primeur, we are talking about the very crème de la crème of Bordeaux – the finest estates who have not only the region’s best-sited vineyards, but the necessary resources – the manpower, money and equipment – to be able to succeed. Our 10 days in the region revealed the full complexities of the year, one where it is nigh-on impossible to generalise. As Omri Ram at Ch. Lafleur told us, “There are hundreds and thousands of 2021s.” The key was being able to analyse what was happening in the vineyards – and then be able to act on it. Quickly. For Ram, with 24 people working 21 hectares, that was fortunately possible. At Ch. Lafite Rothschild, Technical Director Eric Kohler told us that the cost of production in 2021 was an almost incredible 45% higher than normal. Christian Moueix estimates his team spent 30% more hours in the vineyard than normal. At Ch. Ducru-Beaucaillou, they hired an additional 35 people to manage mildew amongst the vines in June and July (surplus to the normal 40), while at both Ch. Rauzan-Ségla and Les Carmes Haut-Brion they had enormous teams for the harvest – 150 each, harvesting and sorting at Rauzan-Ségla, and doing three or four passes through each plot at Carmes. At Smith Haut-Lafitte, they bought five additional tractors to ensure they could spray the entire property in one day. “All the challenges we could dream of happened,” said Jean-Basile Roland of Ch. Rauzan-Ségla. Because of these challenges, it’s a vintage that producers are justifiably proud of – for it was a hard-won battle, and Covid-19 was still a consideration. Yields across the region varied significantly. In total, the region produced 14% less than in 2020, but some estates reported a full crop. At others, they had the lowest yields since 1991 – largely due to mildew, although frost was a factor as well. Inevitably, estates working organically and biodynamically had more of a battle when it came to mildew so were more significantly impacted. Both elements had less of an impact than might be expected, however, as producers have learnt – and invested – after the severe frosts of 2017 and mildew of 2018. As already highlighted, this was a year of the grower; where the human hand was everything. There were key decisions to be made at every stage of the season and these influenced the style of wine produced. Again, from what we tasted there wasn’t a right or wrong decision to be made – but it’s important to emphasise the various elements that have defined the wines this year. First up was picking. In general, harvest dates were much later than we’ve seen in recent years – producers having to wait for ripeness to arrive in the year’s cooler conditions. Merlot started coming in at the end of September, and most finished picking their Cabernet by 18th October. The key decision was around the first weekend in October, when heavy rain was forecast, yet most Cabernet wasn’t yet ripe. Some rushed to pick their fruit, while others took the risk and waited. Those who held their nerve were rewarded; the storms were replaced by sunny days for key ripening. While recent years have seen producers waiting for phenolic ripeness, with sugar levels soaring in warm conditions, 2021 saw something different. At some estates, phenolic maturity arrived first, with the sugar never quite following; at others the phenolic, flavour and sugar ripeness all seemed to arrive at once. For the former, chaptalisation was necessary. This practice – the addition of sugar prior to fermentation to increase alcohol levels – was once the norm in marginal climates like Bordeaux, Burgundy, Champagne, the Loire and many more. Opinions on the topic are rife, with some winemakers extremely anti; from what we tasted, where well-judged and expertly managed, you can’t tell. There were a handful of wines with warming alcohol that doesn’t feel fully integrated, but where done well, chaptalisation has rounded the wine out – fleshing out the body with half a degree of alcohol or so. It’s also important to emphasise that chaptalisation is something we simply haven’t spoken about previously – at Ch. Margaux, Aurélien Valence highlighted that they even chaptalised a few parcels in 2019 and 2020, while some estates haven’t done so for decades. Some châteaux opted for reverse osmosis as an alternative way to concentrate the wines, generally on lower-tier wines. Given the year’s challenging conditions, producers didn’t face a crop of flawlessly clean fruit. It was a cool and damp year and sorting was essential. Optical sorters are now the norm at many addresses, but this year saw the addition of density baths at several estates (Chx Léoville and Langoa Barton, Angélus and Smith Haut-Lafitte, to name a few, following in the footsteps of the likes of Ausone). Indeed, just at Smith Haut-Lafitte, there were six stages of sorting across the vineyard and winery to ensure that they kept only the finest fruit. One point of discussion at almost every estate was how producers managed extraction. With the year’s wet conditions, berries were generally plump and dilution was a risk. The cooler weather also meant that tannins weren’t necessarily as ripe, although in terms of “IPT” (the Indice de Polyphénols Totaux – the level of tannins, a number that has started appearing on technical sheets and critic reports increasingly in recent vintages) 2021 had the same numbers as 2018, ’19 or ’20.  The difference, however, was that there isn’t the same stuffing to balance it – so it was essential that tannins were handled gently. Cold soaks were used at several addresses to extract colour and flavour, but not tannin; many opted for gentler and shorter maceration periods. Saignée – the act of bleeding off juice to concentrate what remains – was commonplace, and higher portions of press wine feature in several blends. Several producers noted that in particular the seeds or pips weren’t ripe this year, so it was important to avoid extracting tannins from them; it’s one reason for the significant portion (45%) of whole-bunch fermentation for the Grand Vin at Les Carmes Haut-Brion. The blends this year are in some instances atypical. On the Left Bank, the Merlot struggled with coulure (uneven fruit-set), meaning some wines have record-high proportions of Cabernet Sauvignon in the blend (a record 98% at Ducru-Beaucaillou, 96% at Lafite, 90% at Calon-Ségur, for example). Cabernet Franc seemed to thrive on both sides of the Gironde, and represents higher-than-normal percentages on the Right Bank (30% at L’Evangile, 60% at Angélus). You may also find a little more Petit Verdot in blends than normal – used to add both colour and spicy richness to the wines (for example, representing 6% at Pontet-Canet). Given the generally lighter style of the wines, élevage will be key. While of course this is not set yet, many producers have opted for lower levels of new oak and plan to leave the wines in barrel for slightly less time. As Noëmie Durantou Reilhac of Ch. l’Eglise-Clinet highlighted, this is to preserve the wines’ delicate tannins and aromas. At Ch. Rauzan-Ségla, Jean-Basile Roland noted that it was particularly important this year to use hot water and steam to extract the harshest tannins from barrels before they were filled. And so what of the style of the actual wines? Well, as you can tell, it is not easy to generalise. This is not a Left or Right Bank year, in our view, although we found a little more consistency amongst estates on the Right (and especially warmer Pomerol). Despite the fact that Merlot struggled a little on the Left, it doesn’t seem to have been such an issue on the Right Bank – it’s neither a Cabernet or Merlot vintage. Several producers were quick to declare it a “terroir” vintage – and certainly it seems that limestone and clay soils were an advantage – but terroir was not the only element at play. It really is a year that needs to be judged individually, per estate and wine. We noted in particular that some second wines have suffered from the selection required to achieve greatness in the Grand Vin. The best embraced the natural style of the vintage – working with the year’s elegance rather than battling it. There is an old-school charm to the finest wines, yet with a very modern fruit profile. “Modern classic” was a term that came up time and again, although we’re loathe to repeat it. At Vieux Château Certan, where Guillaume Thienpont has undoubtedly made one of the wines of the year, he described the wine as “two-thirds perfume, one-third flavour”, while Pierre-Olivier Clouet at Cheval Blanc – another overperformer this year – considers it “academic” rather than “classic”, built on dual pillars of tannin and acidity.  The best wines have fresh acidity, delicate and often floral aromatics, with crunchy fruit – often more at the red end of the spectrum. Alcohols tend to sit between 12 and 13% (a little higher on the Right Bank) and the tannins are not negligible, often providing a chalky grip, and they are surprisingly approachable now. They won’t be wines to cellar for the serious long-term, but will be one of those vintages to consistently overperform – surprising blind tasters with their charm as they evolve in bottle. Given all this, it’s no surprise that producers struggled to find a comparative vintage. Faced with such tricky conditions just a decade ago, producers wouldn’t have been able to make the wines they did today. The 1990s were consistently used as a reference point in style, but more recently 2001, 2008 or possibly 2014 offer the best comparison in terms of style – if not climatic conditions. The wines are more concentrated than 2017, and as is very clear, drastically different to 2018, ’19 or ’20. The vast majority of what we offer en primeur is red, and that is where the focus of our report lies, but this was an exceptional vintage for whites. Several estates feel they’ve made the best wines in their history – and certainly from our tastings that is true. At Ch. Margaux, Aurélien Valence said they thought 2017 was their best Pavillon Blanc, but 2021 exceeds it. The cool conditions that made the year challenging for reds was perfect for the white grapes, which benefitted from the long, slow growing season – offering aromatic ripeness, yet vibrant acidity. They really are superb. Crops in Sauternes were decimated by frost unfortunately (Ch. Suduiraut has just 500 cases of its Grand Vin to offer the world), but what little we tasted was similarly outstanding. Buy what you can of these increasingly rare and special wines, made at almost illogical expense. Bordeaux 2021: the vintage in summary A complicated year, but with some brilliant wines In places, frost and mildew means yields are down by as much as 50% Producers needed the resources to handle everything nature threw at them For reds, quality is not homogenous, but the best are vibrant and crunchy, with lower alcohols, chalky tannins and pretty aromatics Very hard to compare to other vintages, but 2001, 2008 and 2014 are the closest in style An exceptional vintage for dry whites, and tiny volumes of excellent sweet whites Explore all 2021 listings or read more Editorial 

Our team spent 10 days in Bordeaux tasting the 2021 vintage – a year that is far from simple. Frost and mildew made for challenging conditions, but the wines shouldn’t be written off. This was a year where tasting was essential and it’s impossible to talk in generalisations. Here, we dig into why

Your one-stop guide to a complicated Bordeaux en primeur vintage that is hard to compare to other vintages, but 2001, 2008 and 2014 are the closest in style

Jeff Cohn Cellars

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