Sitting opposite us, the dark-suited, dark-haired figure waved an elegant hand at the bottle of white Burgundy which he’d just fished out of a carrier bag and planted on the table with the air of a conjuror at a party. “You’ll like this,” he said; it was a statement, not a suggestion, delivered in a faint accent with American overtones and a hint of gutturality. In this totally unremarkable West London pub, a bottle of Meursault looked as out of place as a KGB officer. Which he was. We did like it, of course, who wouldn’t? It made the greasy steak and chips almost bearable, and was one of the best wines I’d ever tasted at that point in my life. I was 33 that year, 1978, and as a newish BBC foreign correspondent I wasn’t particularly well paid. He’d brought the Meursault with him to show us how sophisticated he was, and to counter the blandness of the food. But why had he suggested The Mitre as a place for lunch? It was handy for the Soviet embassy up the road, certainly; but I realised that the real attraction for him was the high-backed seats that enclosed our table and kept our conversation private. Sergei was a major in the KGB, masquerading as a press attaché. The habit of secrecy was deeply ingrained in him. The Meursault started to work on my companion, a gossipy, amusing, slightly naïve BBC executive. It worked on me, too, but under the influence of alcohol I tend to go quiet and introverted. Not so Harry. He delivered the brief lecture about Soviet harassment of our Moscow correspondent which he’d been planning. It wasn’t bad, but it didn’t make Sergei burst into tears. On the contrary. “Ah, yes, the famous Declan.” Sergei managed to put the accent on the second syllable. “Such good Russian. A pity he wastes his time hanging around those drop-outs and wastrels.” I was particularly impressed by ‘wastrels’. “I suppose you mean dissidents,” I said, pushing my glass across for more Meursault. The label read ‘1968’; the Soviet embassy must have had a superb cellar. Sergei laughed scornfully and poured. “I hear Declan’s marriage isn’t going so good now,” he said. “Ah, no, his wife left him for an airline pilot,” Harry replied, giggling. I kicked him sharply: you didn’t feed personal details about your colleagues to KGB officers. “What?” Harry said, looking at me. We saw the bottle out. Sometimes I think I can still taste that rich, green-gold collection of butter, almond, citrus and, could it have been, or is it just my imagination after more than 40 years, hints of bracken and mayflower. At the end, we stood up and shook hands. “So you’ll go easy on Declan from now on?” Harry said. “Well, Declan must stop creating bad propaganda against the Soviet Union.” He had a good ear: this time the accent was on the first syllable. Sergei turned in the direction of the embassy, and we headed back to Television Centre. “Bloody good wine those Russkies can afford,” Harry said, and gave his high-pitched laugh.For journalists and spies, booze is a famous lubricant, a fuel, even. I came from a teetotal background, yet when I started as a foreign correspondent I soon found myself ordering a glass of single malt as a means of self-protection, while someone I was trying to pump for information opened up and talked in a way he or she never would if I’d ordered a Britvic orange. Yet there were exceptions. In Belfast and Derry, where I started my reporting career, the leaders of the Provisional IRA were mostly ultra-Catholic and never drank a drop; and as I branched out and began reporting on the Middle East, I found that organisations like Hezbollah and the followers of the Ayatollah were as teetotal as I had once been. There were no bars to meet them in, either. Fortunately, though, cities like Cairo and Beirut were more sophisticated. I soon found that anywhere with a sizeable Christian population, Egypt and Lebanon, of course, but also Syria, Iraq and westernised countries like Turkey and Pakistan, made allowances for thirsty westerners and permitted them to drink, even if in cities like Peshawar you had to sign a big leather volume and register yourself as an alcoholic. The bar in the old Commodore Hotel in Beirut was a wonderful centre for professional alcoholics of this kind. I first went there in June 1982, when West Beirut was under hourly attack from Israeli planes and tanks, and there were no shelters to protect us. The presiding spirit of the place was a correspondent called Chris Drake, a hospitable soul who dispensed booze and information even-handedly. When the barrage was going on, it would have been suicidal to leave the Commodore, and the building shuddered to every nearby explosion. Chris Drake had a parrot, and when the bar was packed in the evening with journalists glad to still be alive, it would imitate the sound of a shell in flight with startling accuracy. Most of the people there, not me, thank God, had walked into the bar on their first night, heard the parrot’s hugely convincing whistle, and thrown themselves on the floor shouting “Incoming!”. There would be a roar of laughter, and someone would help them up and offer them a glass of arak, an infusion of grapes and the seeds of the anise plant. I acquired a real taste for arak at that time, and I still think of that slightly oily, metallic, liquorice-tasting liquid hitting the back of my throat and burning its way down. A few years later, during another upsurge of fighting, the Commodore was heavily shelled by the Syrian army. The building was destroyed, and no trace of the parrot was ever found. When peace was restored and there was money around, the Commodore was rebuilt, much bigger and more glitzy, but the architect designed a new bar precisely where the old one had once been. You can still see the space on the floor where many a famous journalist measured his length when the parrot did its party trick. I took my wife and 13-year-old son there a couple of years ago, and one afternoon, when the bar was empty, my son insisted on re-enacting the whole thing. In China, things were different. Meetings with underground figures usually took place at their homes or outdoors, given the fear of surveillance. I often chose Ritan Park in Beijing, where teahouses served pu-erh tea and offered a discreet place to talk. By contrast, official meetings required alcohol, specifically Maotai, a fierce baijiu distilled from sorghum at over 50% ABV. At one banquet, after being insulted by a local Party official, I tried to outdrink him. The plan failed, he had help, but we still ended the night collapsed together, singing in two languages. The next day, I was told this had enhanced British prestige. Countries where alcohol is banned present different challenges. In Taliban-controlled Afghanistan, I smuggled in a 27-year-old bottle of Laphroaig disguised as Fanta, only to pour it down the toilet when soldiers began searching rooms for alcohol. They never entered mine. After the fall of the Soviet Union, I tried to track Sergei down but never found him. Before that, though, I had taken my revenge by signing him up to every unwanted mailing list I could find, encyclopaedias, dubious magazines, and more inventive subscriptions besides. It made me feel very good.And yet, if I imagine meeting him again, I always picture the same thing: Sergei standing in the doorway, holding a superb bottle of Meursault. For that, at least, I’ve always been grateful. This article was written by John Simpson, who reflects on his experiences reporting across the world, and the role alcohol has played in the art of face-to-face reconnaissance. Illustrations by Natsko Seki. Originally published in FONDATA, Issue Two.

BBC world affairs editor John Simpson reflects on reporting from conflict zones, recalling memorable bars, encounters and the role alcohol plays in the subtle art of face-to-face reconnaissance.

BBC world affairs editor John Simpson on bars, encounters and how alcohol shapes reporting, trust and intelligence gathering worldwide.

John Simpson on bars, spies and the art of reporting

Refuge,  refreshment & reconnaissance

I. Distractions In 1987, when I was 18 and a dollar was worth more than twice as much as it is today, I started reading magazines: M, Esquire, GQ. Nearby, in our somewhat cultured Texas town, a new bookstore opened in a cavernous space that had formerly housed the shag-carpeted roller skating rink of our childhood. Through the front windows, which had before been darkly tinted to give the place an alluring den-of-prepubescent-iniquity vibe, now streamed bright, clean light, showcasing a look and layout that would become the interior design gestalt of today’s national-chain, big-box book superstore. The rows upon rows of open, dustless shelving bearing a veritable warehouse of volumes; the ceiling hung with its industrial innards on display; the enfilade of check-out cubicles; and the wall – the great wall – that displayed a preposterous-to-behold assortment of glossies, quarterlies, journals, newsweeklies, fanzines, tabloids, almanacs, and all other flora and fauna of magazines arrayed upon a rack perhaps 50 feet long.  I went in there to look for a book. I liked books, and, one day, I was sure I wanted to write one. But I got distracted and bought a magazine instead – that August’s issue of GQ, which still stands out in my mind as a thing of formative significance. At that time, the zeitgeist was defined by a Walkman-wearing version of the American Renaissance Man – the highly-ambitious, status-obsessed, money-motivated, health-nut known as a Yuppie. No magazine positioned itself more authoritatively in defining this new sociological creature’s lifestyle than GQ, and it did it with whiter teeth, snappier suspenders, better accessories, bigger polka dots and more caffeine in the ink of its display copy.  I remember that issue less for the photos by Richard Avedon or Steven Meisel, the words of Martin Amis or Frederick Exley, than for this: Erzeugerabfüllung. It was one of the longest, strangest strings of letters from the Roman alphabet I had ever seen. Neither did it seem designed to come out of someone’s mouth. But there it was in Alan Richman’s Wine & Spirits column, accompanied by a lovely still-life photograph of his topic: two bottles of Riesling Kabinetts on a white, sun-dappled tablecloth. Richman’s main point – made almost 35 years ago – still holds true: estate-bottled, table-quality German wines remain some of the least expensive, most delicious wines in the world, chiefly because – then as now – the labels, as he wrote, “cannot be understood by anyone who is not a part-time oenophile, linguist and cartographer”. One US dollar in Richman’s pocket, as I have already said, bought what roughly two-dollars-and-fifty-cents does today; what he was on the hunt for was a good dry white in a range that would now cost somewhere between 12 and 30 bucks, and he easily accomplished that by finding a dealer in New York City who carried a good selection of wines from the Mosel and Rheingau. At the time, I didn’t know the meaning or significance of any of this, but it staked a claim in my brain. The only wine I had ever tasted was the one served at our Episcopal church during Eucharist on Sundays. The flavour it had was of a strange, super-concentrated jam that somehow warmed your upper body. Even as a young kid, I liked it. But the adjectives these German bottles were squeezing out of Richman – “citrus-like”, “honeyed”, “tart-sweet” – weren’t close to describing what was in that chalice, even if you believed in transubstantiation. Was it because Richman’s wine was white, and the parish’s was red? Perhaps, but both colours of grape juice bottled by Welch’s tasted pretty much the same to me. No, I sensed there was something – a lot – I had to learn, and, along with the romance and beauty of the labels, and the contextual air of well-bred taste and cultural with-it-ness featured on the other pages, this, I feel sure, was the decisive moment, the true origin point, when I came to believe that among the many extraordinary things that make life worth living, not just words but wine reigns at the top.  I warned you about distractions, didn’t I? Because that would be my excuse for now informing you, as a quite apropos footnote, that, yes, there was something unusual about our church’s Communion wine. It was, as I have confirmed with the church, actually port (Taylor’s Tawny, to be more accurate), cut, according to tradition, with water. There is a good and fascinating reason for this. In 1701, when the War of the Spanish Succession kicked off, France also became an enemy of England, and its wines, as a result, were no longer made available for import. The Anglican Church searched for and found a replacement, the fortified wines of its new ally, Portugal, and port continues to be an acceptable option to pair with the Host.  II. Distillations A satisfying story, not unlike a satisfying life, is one that surprises you with the mystery of its unfolding. A thing pulls in a certain direction long enough to reach the proximity of something else which then turns toward a new destination. I had actually gone into that bookstore, as I said, to look at books. But I came out, even though I didn’t yet know it, with a different compass point. Within a few years, shortly after graduating from college, in 1992, I got hired by The New Yorker, where I stayed for almost nine years. I then met my future wife, who wisely laughed at the thought we might be able to survive in New York City on my meagre salary, so I went to Vogue, and soon after became the founding editor of Men’s Vogue. After 23 issues, and four years, the financial crisis laid an axe to many magazines, including that one. Eventually, I took on the editorship of Town & Country. Then, finally, in 2016, I moved up to Esquire, the magazine, as it happens, that didn’t offer me a job when The New Yorker did, and became that storied magazine’s editor in chief, until – well, you best read about that in The New York Times.  As far as distractions go, magazines were a good one. They made me who I am, gave me a tremendously worldly education, honed my taste, introduced me to all manner of accomplished people, required me to build quite a wardrobe, and paid me pretty well to do all of this, often with a glass of wine not far out of the picture. There was really no other way I would have ever got to taste all the bottles I have (a lot of the big names people whisper about from Burgundy and Bordeaux, Champagne and also Piedmont, Tuscany and Napa). I built a modest cave à vin of my own by buying the Smith Haut Lafittes of the world way before hedge-fund hoi polloi ran up the prices, and by having access to rare offerings, like 12 bottles of Fiorano, the legendary white wine Alberico Boncompagni Ludovisi, prince of Venosa, made before ripping out all his vines. I smelled the musty perfume of Margaux in the cellar as I watched the workers rack the wine by candlelight. I lured Jay McInerney away from the Wall Street Journal to become my wine columnist; and I once stood in Bordeaux’s town square, tight on 2002 Pétrus, trying with great focus to commune with the statue of Michel de Montaigne while my French friend, a true oenophile, extolled the majesty of the Big Mac’s special sauce.  As the editor of a magazine, curiosity is your profession, even to the point of distraction. Editors – writers, too – are prone to it. It’s a hazard of the gift, and having a jumble of ideas, if you’re any good, is key to making a magazine of any real intellectual or creative daring. Now as a husband and father of three, working from home and trying to be ‘present’, and a still youngish former editor and occasional micro-influencer trying to stave off the solitude to fathom and plot the next phase of a fruitful future, this skill of mine, the strength of which became even more magnified over two decades, is something of a family project.  The way I most often hear the word ‘distraction’ now, for instance, is when it’s being hurled at me in verb form by my wife or daughters accusing me of being more of a phone-enslaved screen vegetable than they are. (I respectfully disagree.) But it’s a sore point for two reasons. One, what I did as an editor is, in a nutshell, now what a smartphone essentially does. Not very imaginatively, of course, and not with taste or charm or originality, but with a bloody, money-grubbing ruthlessness that stalks every step of our digital peregrinations and doesn’t give a twist if the algorithms that are its brain make us its slave by retrofitting our attention spans for kindergarten.  The smartphone – not the former me or any of my fellow kind still in the media biz – is now the true croupier of culture, dealing out a targeted shuffle of Pavlovian temptations to the point of daily mental exhaustion. And, though this thing is in many ways my personal nemesis, I am, against every fibre of my being, too often its obedient servant. Aiming not to live according to the famous line by T.S. Eliot – “distracted from distraction by distraction” – I recently decided to at least take a serious inventory of my favourite ones, both those of the pre-digital sort (tennis, The Walking Dead, checking the mailbox, my sock collection) and those of the post-digital sort (the any and everything I do because my phone wants me to). Then I caught myself watching tennis on my phone and realised this might be harder than I thought. It’s enough to drive a person to drink, thank god! With that in mind, I like to keep a special something for the occasion around, in this case – what else? – two bottles of Riesling Kabinett, for it had struck me as more than a little weird that I’ve probably tasted fewer than a handful of German wines in my entire life. Part of the reason is that those I had were bad, and, like a lot of other simpletons about this great wine region of the world, I’d come to think of Riesling as a cloying elixir equal parts green Jolly Rancher, apple cider vinegar, and hairspray. This, I knew, was wrong, not true and, in terms of wine equity and inclusion, on the wrong side of history. But, if you happen to live in a place like I do – a bourgie swathe of Connecticut bordering New York City where the shops cater heavily to Cali-Fran-Taly banker’s tastes – it might take you a few stops to find what Richman recommended, an erzeugerabfüllung (estate-bottled) Kabinett (wine made from grapes with a minimum must weight/sugar content) Riesling, and when you do it will probably be coated in a fine sift of years-old dust. I bought a green (Mosel) bottle for US$16 and a brown (Rhine) bottle for US$20, both handsomely labelled. I opened them a few minutes ago and took several investigative swigs. The words bright, invigorating and snappy came to mind. One is indeed sweeter, and, though not my usual jam, it is tamped by a pleasing peachy tartness, and the classic overtone of honey isn’t making my palate feel doused with syrup. The other example is, as Richman said so long ago, a very finely layered creature with mineral clarity and an echo of baked bread, something a gluten-free person like me finds particularly appealing. A rather obvious thought: why haven’t I been buying this instead of throwing a ton of endless money at affordably bad white Burgundy, which is mostly a product aimed at fulfilling a desired outcome, like White Claw hard seltzer? III. Words But don’t let me get distracted, again. A writer really has to be careful about such things. Just think about it. Unlike, say, a painter or musician or actor or photographer, the process of writing requires zero physical exertion, no chance to score an endorphin release while sitting staring anxiously at a blank page. Of the many things in life that vie against the counter intuitive impulse to be glued to a desk, Cyril Connolly, in Enemies of Promise, his classic study of the things that distracted him (and others) from becoming a great writer, names the temptations but does not say much about why they’re so deeply tempting to someone who would otherwise be sitting alone in an empty room. Praise, money, fame, social prominence, affairs and journalism are the most common boltholes, according to Connolly, who, as a famously late sleeper that married three times, might have also added the bliss of unconsciousness and excessive alimony. In 1938, the year the book was published, he would never have imagined how hard the task might get without a cigarette. Smoking is a death wish, I know, but when you want to off yourself for still having a hundred pages to go, being able to snap open a nice lighter, flick some ash, stub a butt and inhale some lungfuls of focus-enhancing nicotine must have been kind of helpful. Connolly also doesn’t have much to say about drink except that artists who drink to excess do so “out of the consciousness of wasted ability”. According to that, the 20th century’s most famous literary alcoholics – Dorothy Parker, Truman Capote, F. Scott Fitzgerald, William Styron, Elizabeth Bishop, James Joyce, Raymond Chandler, William Faulkner – might have left behind even greater treasures than they did. Because Ernest Hemingway did almost everything with more gusto than any of his peers, including running up his bar tab, as a drinker he belongs in his own sentence. He is the novelist who most romanced a good drink or nice bottle of wine as one of life’s great pleasures. Who didn’t want to have a vermouth with Jake when reading The Sun Also Rises? (Don’t, it’s gross, at least if you order it at one of those kiosks in Montmartre where the bottles are hung upside down with spring-loaded dispensers.) Or, track down a bottle of Valdepeñas, Hemingway’s favourite variety of Spanish wine. Or, get a drink at the bar named after him at the Ritz, in Paris, and then go somewhere on the Left Bank to order “a dozen portugaises and a half-carafe of the dry white wine”.  In the early work, he is not boastful about drinking so much as he is the possessor of an unusual appetite for a good buzz. He is also, like Connolly, aware of the need to keep writing separate from drinking, and drinking within his control. It is hard to read the first paragraph of A Moveable Feast, in which he describes an “evilly run café where the drunkards of the quarter crowded together and I kept away from it because of the smell of dirty bodies and the sour smell of drunkenness”, except as a kind of terrifying admonition to himself. It is tragic that he didn’t heed his own advice. Late in his life, Hemingway became fond of rum daiquiris at the Floridita, his favourite bar in Havana, which might explain his taste for a prose style that soon became too often cloying self-parody. In one of the most extraordinary drinking sessions ever committed to words, in the roman à clef Across the River and Into the Trees, a 50-year-old Hemingway, who was smitten with a teenage Italian countess from Venice, fictionalises his infatuation with a last muse. In one stretch (that covers an evening-to-dawn crawl from Harry’s Bar, the grill at the Gritti Palace, a gondola and a hotel room), one half or another of the couple imbibes: one scotch whisky and soda; six Montgomery Martinis (15 parts gin; 1 part vermouth), two of which are described in size as ‘super’; a bottle of Capri Bianco; two bottles of Valpolicella; two bottles of Roederer Brut ’42; and two bottles of Perrier-Jouët. That is, I suppose, one extreme, and, clearly, not one to be tried at home.  The other might have been espoused by Dr. Samuel Johnson, the great critic and lexicographer. As a young man, he’d drained “many a bottle of wine” but loved port especially. (Perhaps Johnson, a devout Anglican who was born in 1709, in the midst of England’s 14-year war with Spain, also first encountered port as a boy at the Communion altar.) He describes himself to friend and biographer James Boswell as having been “apt to go to excess in it”, adding that, “therefore, after having been for some time without it, on account of illness, I thought it better not to return to it”.  Boswell, who worried about his own dependence on alcohol, even keeping a journal of his intake in an attempt to enforce moderation, argued for a third way, which some of the Romantics later adopted. Wine, he claimed, “produces truth; in vino veritas”. Hoping to persuade Johnson of his point, Boswell once convinced the critic to come down off the wagon for just one glass of claret, so Johnson “might judge, not from recollection, which might be dim, but from immediate sensation”. Boswell reports what happened after the glass was emptied: “Johnson shook his head, and said, ‘Poor stuff! No, Sir, claret is the liquor for boys; port, for men,’” adding, “‘A man would be drowned by it before it made him drunk.’”  That actually reminds me of something I think I forgot to mention about Riesling Kabinetts – they’re also highly admired for their low percentage of alcohol. On that note, I think I’ll have another glass.  This article was originally published in FONDATA, Issue Two.

Jay Fielden, former editor of Men’s Vogue, Town & Country and Esquire, recalls how a magazine column on wine, read in a Texas bookstore, shifted his ambitions beyond journalism and set him on the path to becoming a writer of books.

Former Esquire editor-in-chief Jay Fielden reflects on magazines, writing, Riesling Kabinett and the distractions that shaped a life in words and wine.

Jay Fielden on Wine, Words and Distraction

How one became another  

When Au Bon Climat founder Jim Clendenen unexpectedly passed away on 15th May 2021, aged just 68, there was an outpouring of sorrow. FONDATA’s Gavin Lucas considers how the one-of-a-kind bon vivant shaped Santa Barbara and California’s wine scene today

Gavin Lucas looks back on the life and times of Jim Clendenen, California’s original wild boy and a pioneer of fine Chardonnay and Pinot Noir in Santa Barbara

The legacy of Jim Clendenen – Au Bon Climat

The legacy of Au Bon Climat’s Jim Clendenen

Gaja’s wines from Barbaresco are undoubtedly some of the finest wines in the world, but their single vineyard wines from their Brunello di Montalcino estate – Pieve Santa Restituta –whilst a lot less well known, deserve equal attention, particularly with the release of their 2015s due out next week. 
It was a big decision for this Piedmont producer to invest in another region of Italy but Montalcino to Gaja seemed the logical choice. On our visit to the property last summer, Angelo Gaja explained to us the obvious parallels between Barolo/Barbaresco and Montalcino – both regions of prestige for fine wine, both made from indigenous varieties and from single varietals that undergo extensive élevage. These were enough for him to pursue a search for the right plot in Montalcino. 
Now after 20 vintages at the property and blessed with the fantastic climate conditions of 2015 – Gaja have produced arguably some of the finest Brunellos of the vintage.
The Pieve Santa Restituta Estate in the Tavernelle region of Montalcino has an amazing history. Named after its church situated in the middle of the estate, it is one of the four remaining churches still standing in Italy whose foundations date back to 400AD.  Of more contemporary relevance, the vineyards themselves neighbour Soldera’s Case Basse estate so there is no question the terroir here is of exceptional quality. For Gaja, the vineyards are in a particularly privileged position, facing south and south-west with an altitude ranging from 320 to 350 metres and characterised by an extremely windy, dry and bright microclimate. The windy site protects the vineyard from damp, alleviating disease pressure, whilst the altitude slows down the ripening allowing the grapes to gain flavour complexity with a long slow ripening process and retaining freshness. 
They produce just three wines from this estate and perhaps more interestingly no Rosso Di Montalcino or Brunello Di Montalcino Riserva. The three wines are a straight Brunello Di Montalcino (first produced in 2005) and two separate single vineyard cuvees: Rennina and Sugarille.  The Rennina is more accurately from three vineyard sites in the same vicinity with similar terroir, first vintage produced by Gaja in 1994. Rennina is characterised as a more tannic, earthy, structured Brunello with riper, preserved fruit character. The Sugarille, first produced by Gaja in 1995, is a single-vineyard site that is more delicate with heightened floral complexity and more approachable tannins but has great ageing potential. 
They don’t produce a Rosso believing that it would be a second-rate wine, which is not in keeping with the Gaja philosophy. Instead, they sell off any second-rate fruit in bulk. In a poor vintage, they don’t produce their single-vineyard wines at all. In 2014, 2012 and 2009 no Sugarille or Rennina were produced. They also never produce a Riserva because Angelo Gaja’s winemaking philosophy has always been to reduce rather than extend the ageing of the wine in barrel.  Ageing to Riserva levels, Gaja believe, means the wines lose their freshness and clarity. Coupled with warmer temperatures in the vineyard over the last 20 years, the effects of global warming have only further cemented this belief. Angelo's daughter Gaia Gaja also believes the higher temperatures produce riper fruit and more alcohol which, when aged extensively in oak, leads to more of the wood tannins infiltrating the wine.  For Gaja, over-extending the oak ageing of the wine is the reason they don’t produce a Brunello Riserva (typically aged an additional year in barrel). The property is very much focused on their single-vineyard sites of Rennina and Sugarille, each representing their top cuvees. 
The 2015 vintage 
Critics and winemakers alike have put the 2015 vintage on a par with the great 2010, sharing similar levels of opulence and voluptuousness on the palate. The 2015 vintage has produced some incredibly juicy yet vibrant wines. Wines with amazing voluptuousness backed with great acidity, fatness and freshness. This style, like 2010, is a real crowd-pleaser but with trends in the region backing away from over-ripeness and high-level extraction, the 2015s are arguably more elegant, with much more tension and finer tannins than the monolithic 2010s. 
Having extensively tasted the 2015s from Montalcino, the wines have a staggering richness, fleshiness, almost a creaminess that is rare to find in pure Sangiovese. At the same time, the fruit does not feel at all over-ripe, still retaining fresh fruit clarity alongside tannins that are fully resolved, yet providing a piquant bite and structure to the wines. These characteristics come through in spades with the single vineyard wines of Gaja’s Pieve Santa Restituta. 
The wines 
“Sugarille” Brunello di Montalcino
Getting to taste their 2015 single vineyard cuvee alongside the same single vineyard 2013s was a great insight into the two very different personalities of the two wines. I can’t help be drawn to the Sugarille with its seductive complex florality, it’s beautifully delineated fruit and seductive tannins. Whilst the 2013s are more “classic” with a wonderful mouth-watering acidity, elegant body and overriding finesse, the 2015s Sugarille is exceptional, it has added energy, contained power and an abundance of complex aromas (aniseed, dark chocolate, contrasting earthy hedgerow and floral lift). The Sugarille is totally defined by very fine tannin and is incredibly elegant for a Brunello. 
“Rennina” Brunello di Montalcino
Whilst the Sugarille may be more immediate, the Rennina has a brooding quality and power with more spice and structure that is equally impressive if a little more backward and austere. It certainly needs more time to further integrate but the slickness and fired/ scorched earth quality and sinewy textural qualities is equally beguiling. You can’t help but compare it with its Soldera neighbour and wonder if with further time in bottle it will be a worthy comparison. It is certainly brilliantly made, texturally sound and will age beautifully.  
They are some of the best examples from the vintage, both with distinct contrasting personalities. These 2015s are due to be released next week and are not to be missed. The combination of the winemaking prowess of the Gaja family, allied with a superb vintage in Brunello di Montalcino makes for some extraordinary wines. Explore more Editorial 


Now after 20 years of vintages at the property and blessed with the fantastic vintage conditions of 2015 – Gaja have produced arguably some of the finest Brunellos of the vintage.

Gaja has produced one of the finest Brunellos of the 2015 vintage from its single vineyard Pieve Santa Restituta. We investigate 

Exploring Gaja’s Pieve Santa Restituta

Exploring Gaja’s Brunello di Montalcino Pieve Santa Restituta

In March this year, Opus One announced that they’d hired Meghan Zobeck as Director of Winemaking. It’s the first step in the transition as longtime winemaker Michael Silacci looks to step away from the business over the next five years. Silacci has been at Opus since 2001 and is a bonafide legend in the valley today – finding a suitable successor is no small task.  Zobeck wasn’t necessarily the obvious choice. She’s risen rapidly through the ranks of Napa’s winemaking elite – but only moved into the world of wine in 2012. That move was a leap of faith for Zobeck – an unlikely one for someone immersed in the world of NFL.  Zobeck grew up in Greeley, Colorado – “a cowtown” in her words, but one that happened to be where the Denver Broncos held their training camps each year. Throughout high school, she spent her summers working for the team – as many locals did. She went off to college (then pre-med), but kept working for the Broncos, moving to full-time while she studied for her MCATs.  In her senior year of college, she did an internship with the team, working with the scouts and sitting in the “war room” on draft day. “I loved the action, the fast pace of it,” she says. At around the same time, she realised that medicine wasn’t for her – instead she took a role negotiating player contracts for the Broncos, becoming one of only a handful of women in the job, and loved it.   It was a weekend trip to Los Olivos in the Santa Ynez Valley that sparked her interest in wine and – more specifically – winemaking. Back home, she found an ad in a local magazine for a homebrew shop – offering the chance to buy grapes during harvest. Soon she was experimenting, fermenting batches of wine in her basement and having bottling parties with friends. “I just saw how it really brought people together,” she says. She travelled to more wine regions and fell for the way wine combined science, creativity, history and community. The NFL had served her well, but it was time to take that leap and leave the Broncos behind.  She did her first vintage at Clos Apalta in 2012, and didn’t look back – doing harvests in Piedmont, Bordeaux and the Barossa, before zoning in on Napa – first at Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars and Screaming Eagle, then taking a job with star consultant Philippe Melka. Most recently, Zobeck was winemaker at Burgess Cellars – where she had free rein to shape the wines, from the vineyard through to the winery.  Zobeck first met Michael Silacci at Premiere Napa Valley – her first showing barrel samples from Burgess. Silacci came over to taste and then – in a clear display of approval – kept sending others her way. Zobeck was focusing on a fresher style of wine, a return to the Burgess of yesteryear, but was also working towards a regenerative approach in the vineyard – and soon discovered that the Opus One team was doing similar experiments. She and Kimberlee Marinelli – Assistant Winemaker & Viticulturist at Opus One – connected and started discussing everything from pollinators to native ferments. Zobeck was struck by the clear lack of complacency from a property that had no need to prove itself further. Little did she know that Silacci was observing what she was doing with particular interest – and decided she could be the heir to his throne.  “It’s a job you never, in a million years, think is going to become available,” says Zobeck of the moment she was approached about becoming Opus One’s Director of Winemaking. There was no way she was turning down such an opportunity – especially not when she would have the chance to work with Silacci for several years.  Zobeck will take on Silacci’s legacy at Opus One – an estate that has been constantly evolving during his tenure. Organic farming has been the norm at Opus for over two decades, although they only sought certification in 2021. For over a decade, Silacci trialled biodynamics but found the vines became too vigorous. He abandoned the approach before launching into regenerative farming from 2022. The estate now works with permanent cover crop between the vines, helping lower temperatures in the canopies, retain water in the soils and lengthen the ripening period, without increasing sugar levels. Silacci has been experimenting with dry farming since 2007 and reducing irrigation across the estate, although it remains essential for now. The team hopes, however, to be able to dry-farm a new site in Oakville once the vines are established. This work is all reflected in the wines being produced today.  “Opus One is not the stereotypical Napa of the early 2000s,” Zobeck emphasises. “It’s a fresh style, and to keep that we have to farm differently.” Silacci is famous for saying he doesn’t want his footprints in the vineyard or fingerprints on the glass, but Zobeck notes how you can see his influence on Opus One over the years, especially from 2004. From 2019, however, she feels the wine has evolved further – with greater transparency of the site. The 2023 has just been bottled at a modest 13.5% alcohol – indicative of the estate’s current approach, one that she intends to continue.  Silacci plans to stay for at least three years, working alongside Zobeck as Chief Winemaker. A transition period of this length is testament to Opus One’s long-term view – looking not just at the next vintage, but the next decade and beyond. Zobeck’s excitement for the role is clear – as well as her admiration for the existing team. As in the NFL, a good captain is key, but it takes more than one player to win a game – and Zobeck completes an already impressive line-up. It’s one hell of a hand-off.  The 2022 vintage of Opus One is released on 1st September 2025. Browse all current listings of Opus One or read more about California 

Originally a joint venture between Robert Mondavi and Ch. Mouton Rothschild, Opus One is one of Napa’s most famous estates – and it now has a new Director of Winemaking. We sat down with Meghan Zobeck to find out more about the ex-NFL powerhouse taking over from Michael Silacci

Meeting the new woman at the helm of Napa’s Opus One – Meghan Zobeck, who is taking over from Michael Silacci to make some of the valley’s most famous wines 

Opus One’s new Director of Winemaking: Meghan Zobeck 

Draft pick: Opus One’s Meghan Zobeck  

Whilst for some of us a trip to Italy still seems far away, this postcard from Florence provides us all with inspiration for our future adventures. As a wine lover and epicurean, how would you best spend 24 hours in Florence? 
I’m a great epicurean or as we say here in Italy I’m completely into “dolce vita”. Florence has so much to give that after one life spent here I’m still surprised and astonished by the beauty you can find behind every corner. I love to have an early morning walk along the Arno river, there is a very easy path that follows the two banks.  Walking from bridge Santo Spirito to San Niccolò bridge and back when the city wakes up gives me cheerfulness and the good mood to start the day. A good espresso in one of the many caffetterie on the way and life smiles! If the day is not too hot I’ll probably climb the hill of Michelangelo from the San Niccolo gate and enjoy the best view of the city from Piazzale Michelangelo and the church of San Miniato. 
 At this point, I’ll probably descend from “via dell’erta canina” for a sandwich and a glass of wine at “Fratellini”, one of the oldest and most traditional kiosks of the city! Ill end the day resting in Boboli garden, the Medici private backyard of Palazzo Pitti before heading to “Santino” for a classic aperitivo in the smallest and cutest bar of the city. 
What are your top drinking spots in the city? 
When it comes to wine Florence has a lot to offer. The best places to enjoy a class of wine will be the Sesto, terrace bar of the Excelsior Hotel or the rooftop bar of Hotel Lucchesi, both with an amazing view and great wine lists. But my favourite place is Aurora, our new winery in Fiesole, with an amazing terrace overlooking the city of Florence, Chianti and the hills that frames the city. What is your favourite neighbourhood restaurant in the city?
 I love the traditional restaurant Cammillo, it is one of the oldest Trattoria of the city, still managed by the same family. It is chaotic but the atmosphere is warm and the menu rich of traditional dishes hard to find elsewhere. 
 What is your favourite dish they serve? 
Trippa alla Fiorentina, amazing! 
What are the culinary specialities of Florence and the surrounding area? 
Florence has a very rich cuisine, starting from aged salami, cheeses and charcuterie like finocchiona (made by the leftover of the pigs), but also pasta and soups like Ribollita (winter black cabbage and bread soup) Pappa al pomodoro (summer tomato and bread soup) or Tagliatelle that could be served with Cinghiale (wild boar) Lepre (hare) but the king of our cuisine is the Bistecca Fiorentina, a 2 kg steak served rare to medium-rare and made of Chianina beef. But don’t forget desserts like “Zuppa Inglese” or Cantucci and Vinsanto, the best way to end a heavy meal! 
If budget was not an issue where is the finest place to dine in Florence? 
Easy to answer: Enoteca Pinchiorri (three-Michelin), amazing food and probably the best wine list in the world. I’m very linked to this restaurant, it was my very first client in the world and for a few years Pinchiorri got all my production of Colore purchasing until the last drop of the wine! 
Florence has some world-class cultural sites. What is your favourite place to visit? 
My top three are: the Uffizi museum, you can’t leave Florence without a view of Venere and Primavera of Botticelli (and a good coffee on the rooftop bar of the museum), Santa Maria del Fiore (the duomo) with the adventurous walk to the top of the church and last but not least a visit to Fiesole village with its beautiful monastery. 
Is there an off the radar place in Florence that visitors should not miss? Florence can be very touristic and loud during high season but there are some places a bit off the radar like the “Giardino delle Rose” (the roses garden) beautiful in spring with hundreds of different roses or when open the Forte Belvedere with the Garden of Villa Bardini. 
 Florence is closely situated to the world-class wine regions of Tuscany – Where are the best places to visit for scenery and to discover the wine country? 
I will base myself on the hills overlooking the city, Fiesole can be the perfect base to visit the city and get out of the crowd when necessary. And from there move to Chianti Classico, Panzano in Chianti and Castellina are two lovely villages 30-40 mins away. If the plan is to visit Bolgheri or Montalcino better to base yourself on the coast or Siena. 
Where is the best place to enjoy your wines in Florence? 
I’m proud to say that our wines are considered the “local wines” in Florence, my winery is the closest winery to the city and I have been privileged for this reason, I’m the Florentine winemaker and my wines are very easy to find in most of the places in Florence. I get the occasion to toast to all our friends that I am sure I will be able to meet here again soon with a good glass of wine. Read more Editorial

We checked in with winemaker Bibi Graetz, whose winery set in the foothills of Florence, looks out over this magical city. Born and raised in the city and being the closest winery to Florence, we thought who best to ask for his top tips when visiting 

We caught up with Bibi Graetz, maverick Tuscan winemaker, about his top tips when visiting the region

Interview with Florence winemaker Bibi Graetz

Bibi Graetz: Postcard from Florence

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

Maule is the engine room of Chile’s wine industry. With over 37,000 hectares of vines, it is by far the country’s largest wine region, churning out a quarter of the nation’s production. Although it has a long history, first planted in the 16th century, its modern reputation is for providing cheap fruit to bulk out the blends that have become synonymous with Chile’s supermarket standard-bearers. But a quiet revolution is underway, with a small group of producers championing the old-vine heritage of this region. And now Francisco Baettig is adding his name to the list, shining a light on the region.  Baettig – the man who built his reputation crafting the iconic wines of Errázuriz, Seña and Chadwick – started Vinos Baettig with his business partner Carlos de Carlos back in 2012, laying down literal roots in the little-known, cool-climate Traiguén district of Malleco, on the same latitude as Patagonia. They made their first commercial vintage of chiselled Chardonnay and vibrant Pinot Noir in 2018, but that was just the beginning for the duo.  They had, Baettig tells me, always planned to make Cabernet Sauvignon. And that’s no surprise given Baettig’s background, having studied in Bordeaux and made his name crafting Cabernet Sauvignon blends that rival those of the Médoc. They decided, however, to start with Chardonnay and Pinot Noir in the south, where they already had family ties and land was more affordable, while they hunted down the right site for their Cabernet project.  For Baettig, working their own vineyards is integral to Vinos Baettig, as is dry-farming – and, for Cabernet Sauvignon, Baettig was particularly keen to have old vines, and that, he shrugs sadly, is not so easy to find. As well as being resilient enough to be dry-farmed, older Cabernet Sauvignon vines generally produce lower pyrazine levels (compounds which are responsible for a green character in wine), as well as lower sugar levels at phenolic and flavour ripeness – allowing him to produce wines with more moderate alcohol levels.  He had previously worked with a parcel of Cabernet Sauvignon in Maule and loved the fruit from these low-yielding vines, which retained acidity and offered great aromatics, colour and gravelly tannins that are, in his view, almost Saint-Estèphe in style. It was he felt, “Cabernet with a special personality.” And so, they looked to Maule, but avoiding the warmer areas that can produce bigger, riper styles – instead they headed south of Cauquenes, towards the Cordillera de la Costa, or coastal range.  It took them over a year, but eventually they found an old País vineyard – planted 120 years ago – where two hectares had been grafted over to Cabernet Sauvignon. The grower was charging only 15 cents per kilo for the fruit – but the Cabernet was being harvested alongside the Pais, chucked in together and sold for a pittance. Baettig asked if he could quadruple the price and get it harvested separately. The grower couldn’t believe his luck.  Baettig and Carlos found another few vineyards that showed promise, which together formed the basis for the first vintage of Los Compadres Cabernet Sauvignon. This is one of their Vinos de Viñedo, or village-equivalent wines, with the name “Los Compadres” (close friends) a tribute to the growers with which they’re working. Alongside their “village” wine, however, Baettig always crafts a single-site bottling, a Selección de Parcelas (parcel selection, literally) – and that only ever comes from vines they own.  Fortunately, perhaps, the grower behind the 120-year-old País vineyard was looking to sell, faced with its economic unsustainability and developers queuing up for the land. The duo managed to purchase five hectares, including the two that had already been grafted to Cabernet Sauvignon, saving the centenarian vines from being ripped out of the ground. They grafted over the three remaining hectares to Cabernet Sauvignon in 2023 (with the fruit set to be used from the 2025 vintage). This site is now the source for their single-parcel Los Padrinos (meaning “the godparents”).  There are swathes of ancient vines like this, all at risk of being torn out for more profitable options. And it’s easy to see why, these old bush vines are beautiful – but yield tiny volumes. Baettig gets a mere two tons per hectare – “in a good year”, he’s quick to clarify. They’re dry-farmed – something that is rare in Chile’s dry climate, but made feasible by the high average rainfall in the Maule (between 500 and 700mm per year, although 2023 brought 1,000mm – welcome sustenance for Baettig’s just-grafted plantings). There’s no way of mechanising such old vines so all the work has to be done by hand – and Baettig’s plots see little more than sulphur and other organic treatments. If like most growers in the area, you’re only able to sell your fruit to the local co-op for cheap box wine, it’s easy to see why such efforts simply don’t make financial sense.  Alongside these parcels of old vines, there are vast, younger vineyards belonging to the likes of Concha y Toro and Santa Rita, yielding up to seven times as much fruit as their gnarly neighbours. Land here remains significantly cheaper than the more famous Maipo, Aconcagua or Colchagua (hence its appeal to the country’s biggest players) – but it’s the region’s distinct style of Cabernet that drew the Baettig team here.  For Baettig, towards the coastal range you find a totally different microclimate, producing wines of impressive tension and bright acidity. With the old País roots, the vines reach deep into the soil and produce limited yields of concentrated berries. The tannins have a particular imprint, less polished than those of Maipo, and given the fruit’s natural concentration and structure, it’s important to manage extraction carefully – with cooler temperatures, shorter maceration times and reduced pump-overs. Quite simply, Baettig says, they are “wines that you can age”. Fresh and verging on austere in youth, it’s easy to see the potential – and Baettig suggests the Compadres should age a good decade, while Los Padrinos will continue evolving far beyond that.   Baettig has already made waves with its Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, and – given the nature of these special vineyards – their Cabernet Sauvignon is guaranteed to do the same. But it’s not just the quality here that will make a difference. These sprawling plants, knotted, thick-trunked and twisted, have survived in spite of the economics. Having such a prestigious name invest in the Maule and its wealth of centenarian bush vines will help guarantee that this viticultural heritage isn’t lost for good.  Explore the full range from Baettig, including the first vintages of their Cabernet Sauvignon 

Baettig has pioneered Pinot Noir and Chardonnay from Malleco – but now they’ve released their first Cabernet Sauvignon. Sophie Thorpe caught up with Francisco Baettig to find out more about the project 

From Malleco to Maule: as Chile’s Baettig releases their first Cabernet Sauvignon wine, we caught up with winemaker Francisco Baettig to find out more

Discovering Baettig’s Maule Cabernet Sauvignon

The Maule mission: Baettig’s new Cabernet Sauvignon

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