Matthew Fioretti is not everyone’s cup of tea. The man at the helm of Cerbaiona doesn’t mince his words – and he’s got firm views on, well, I suspect pretty much everything. But he’s also unwaveringly honest, with a frank approach that is enjoyably refreshing – and rather unusual in the fine wine arena. He’s got a vision and story, one that he wants to tell, but it’s not one that’s been spun by a PR agency; it’s his. Fioretti has long been involved in the world of wine, running an import business in the US (Summa Vitis), which focused largely on Italian wine. He moved to Italy in 2004, and shut down the Summa Vitis operation in 2009 as he set his sights on making wine himself. After a few false starts, he heard that Diego Molinari – the longtime owner of Cerbaiona – was looking to retire. Along with a group of investors (the most significant of which is the American collector Gary Rieschel), Fioretti purchased the property in 2015, reportedly for €5.8 million. Molinari was in his 80s and it was clear that – while the site itself was exceptional – the property was run down and needed work. As we reported a few years ago, he promptly embarked on a radical project to restore the property and unexpectedly decided to declassify the 2014 and 2015 vintages to Rosso di Montalcino, only releasing the first Fioretti-era Brunello in 2021, with the 2016 vintage – the first to be made entirely by the new team.  Now, almost a decade later, he’s starting to be able to realise his vision for the estate – as we discovered on a visit earlier this year, with problems that “aren’t easy to solve”. The challenge, he explains, has been evolving from an “artisan” to an “atelier”. Under Molinari, the property developed a legendary reputation, but the operation was rudimentary – a traditional, family business, doing things the way they had always been done. Fioretti wants to bring the estate into the modern era, elevating the terroir with technical precision to craft wines that continue the Cerbaiona legacy. It is, he says, “a transition I wasn’t expecting to make”, but one that he feels is essential to safeguard Cerbaiona’s future. The distinction between artisan and atelier is a nuanced one – but one that comes down to an emphasis on craft rather than art, with a commitment to consistency, for which precision and hygiene in the winery are key, as well as a high level of technical knowledge. He confesses that he had envisaged having a more hands-off approach in the winery, having imported a lot of natural wines in his previous career, but has rapidly realised that top-level winemaking is full of “necessary compromises” (diving into issues like the fault quercetin). As a craft, winemaking can’t just be subject to the “whims of the producer”, as he suggests is the artisanal way. “I prefer to work more meticulously,” he explains. The American talks at pace, flitting from TS Eliot and the concept of “the pure critic” to Albertolli and neoclassicism, in amongst technical detail about fining and filtering. The estate is closed to visitors, deliberately to avoid distraction from what Fioretti wants to be spending his time on – making wine. As he whizzes us round the winery, our heads spinning as we try to absorb every detail, he talks us through exactly how he’s bringing new exactitude to the operation. The vineyards have all been replanted and a steep-sloped olive grove replaced with vines, all with selected rootstocks and clones sourced from France’s Guillaume nursery, to give them the best possible raw material. Once seen as too labour-intensive to farm, he’s convinced the ex-olive grove might just be the best site on the property. The rustic old stables and granary that acted as the cellar and winery have been carefully renovated, with water and drainage installed throughout, and the equipment all updated. Importantly, Fioretti has added a full in-house laboratory – something that is exceedingly rare for a property of this size, let alone Italy where the high-tech approach is far from the norm. The fruit is now all chilled after harvest, de-stemmed and cold-soaked, using inert gas to protect the must. While he used upright wooden tanks for fermentation for his first five vintages, Fioretti switched to stainless steel to allow for better hygiene and temperature control (preferring a maximum 26̊C), as well as allowing him to programme them for automated punch-downs and pump-overs. He’s started co-inoculating for primary and malolactic fermentation, meaning the wines go into barrel very clean – and can be sulphured right away. These are tweaks, minor modernisations, but one of the most significant changes Foretti is making is the time the wine spends in wood. While Molinari favoured four-plus years in 500-litre tonneaux, Fioretti has gradually started bottling the wine earlier and uses a combination of 350-litre barrels and 15-hectolitre casks. “Even two years [the appellation minimum] in wood is too long,” he says – before quickly acknowledging that such a view is far from accepted, and he cannot legally reduce it any further. The various consorzios may not like it, but it’s a view that is increasingly common among younger producers in Italy, who are frustrated by minimum oak-ageing requirements and their contrast with the wines today’s consumers want to drink. As Fioretti says, however, “The notion of wood is very delicate.” And while he’d rather be able to age his wine in other vessels during their first two years of life, he acknowledges that élevage in oak has a beneficial impact on the chemistry of wine – aiding stability. With such a beloved wine, it might seem controversial to change anything – especially the way it’s made, but that hasn’t stopped Fioretti. Looking back at older vintages from the estate, even the legendary 100-point 2010, he is sometimes underwhelmed, feeling that there’s much greater potential. Part of his plan to reflect that potential is bottling earlier, allowing the fruit to shine through and give the wine better balance – something he feels is key for ageing potential. He’s also keen to make sure the wine is moderate in alcohol with maximum 14 or 14.2%, even in the warmest years. And most importantly, he says, good wine has to be delicious. Having tasted the 2019 and 2021 with Fioretti – the results so far really are. There’s a vibrancy and purity that makes them irresistible, while not sacrificing the structure that will allow these wines to go the distance. Alongside Cerbaiona, Fioretti has also created the M.L. Fioretti label, one he describes as “part garagiste, part petit château”. He was keen to explore indigenous grapes, which “are part of the family – but not all thoroughbreds”, as well as plots of Bordeaux varietals (grapes with undeniable pedigree) – provided they’re planted in the right place. The Casaglia Colorino is bright and spicy, while the San Vito (sadly the last vintage of which is 2021) is a beautifully lush and vibrant Merlot. These are fascinating wines that allow Fioretti to experiment more – outside the constrictions of the Brunello di Montalcino appellation. Controversially, Fioretti has declared Cerbaiona a “No Scores Zone”, echoing the sentiment of Teobaldo Cappellano that numerical ratings are divisive, at best – and don’t do justice to the craft of winemaking. In his notes on the 2018 vintage, Fioretti wrote: “This is another vintage for the connoisseur, that true lover of wine and the vine. So be it if the ‘collector’ misses out.” Feathers might be ruffled by such remarks, but the motivation here is clear: an earnest passion for wine. It’s something that shines through in our conversation – and in the wines he’s making. You won’t find ratings online for new vintages of Cerbaiona, but one thing’s for sure: you’ll want them in your cellar. Explore all current Cerbaiona and M.L. Fioretti listings, or read more about Italy

You won’t have seen any reviews for Cerbaiona since Matthew Fioretti took over the cult Montalcino address – and that’s for good reason. We caught up with the notorious American taking charge, and leading change, at the estate

It’s all change at the cult Brunello di Montalcino winery Cerbaiona since Matthew Fioretti took over in 2015. We sat down with him to find out more.

Change at Cerbaiona – Matthew Fioretti

Change at Cerbaiona: Matthew Fioretti

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

Serge Valentin has been one of the few truly independent voices in the Scotch whisky world since the early 2000s. For two decades and counting, the Alsace-native has published his tasting notes and scores to an astoundingly large and loyal audience with his characteristically good humour and impartiality in what can be a deafening echo chamber.   Despite being one of the most well-respected authorities in the industry, Valentin has always written about whisky in his spare time, very much considering it a pastime that he dabbles in for fun. This is somewhat of a surprise, given the many people who part with thousands of pounds based on his views alone.  “Contrary to what many believe, I’ve never been a pro and have never actually worked in whisky,” the jaunty Valentin is quick to tell me. “It is all a kind of super-hobby to me and if you ever see me doing gigs, for example at whisky festivals, it is always for free, for fun and for friends.”   Valentin’s “proper work”, as he calls it, is in advertising and marketing, where he owns two agencies which employ around 2,000 people. These agencies, he says glibly, are “supposed to pay for my whiskies…luckily, they do”. It was a very different landscape when Valentin started writing about Scotch in 2002. Single malts had been marketed for 30-plus years but there wasn’t the seemingly insatiable demand and record-breaking prices that are commonplace today. It all began when Valentin, armed with bottles of his favourite Old Clynelish and Brora, sat down and shared his musings on his aptly named website WhiskyFun. This wasn’t a vanity project or a vehicle for freebies, this was a man writing about the whiskies he loved, just because he wanted to. From humble beginnings, WhiskyFun has become one of the most well-respected hubs for commentary on Scotch. Valentin follows a 100-point scoring system, like some of the great critics in the world of wine. For Valentin, however, 80/100 is a good score. His methodology is largely unchanged. He will spend an average of 30 minutes tasting a whisky (he does, on occasion, score rums and other spirits) – this can increase up to an hour if it’s a “good one” and take nearer 10 minutes if it is a “bad one”. He always compares several similar spirits, almost always from the same distillery, and never scores “out of the blue”. He tastes “alone, using the same parameters” (place, time of day, glassware, water etc.) and always writes as he tries, and then publishes once a day.  His write-ups are always short, honest, and unmistakably him. After all these years, it’s dumbfounding that he has the time or inclination to produce the near-constant stream of reviews that appear on his website.    It’s fascinating to see which liquids he scores – and, sometimes more intriguingly, the ones he doesn’t. “The choices rather depend on what I get and what I source, but my sample library is much larger than my tasting capacity,” he explains.   This all started as a passion project for Valentin and it’s abundantly clear that that fire burns just as bright today. He never takes himself too seriously and is evidently ill at ease with any comparison between himself and the greatly respected critics in the world of wine.    This is, in part, because the role of a critic in spirits is nowhere near as established as it is in wine. There are leading voices in the Scotch whisky world who undoubtedly carry considerable clout, but they aren’t critics in the traditional sense. While they might be prolific in their output and have seemingly healthy book retainers, they rarely score spirits and if they do, their tasting notes will be almost entirely positive (often because they are in a producer’s employ). The closest the spirits world has to a Robert Parker or Jancis Robinson MW is probably Valentin – although, he wouldn’t agree.   “I would say the roles are more and more the same in wine and spirits,” Valentin says, “even if there are fewer actual ‘critics’ in spirits. But it is coming in whisky.”  Valentin does feel there is a need for scores in collectable spirits, as – like wine – there isn’t always the opportunity for people to try before they buy. But the issue is not black and white, as is true of many things Valentin and I discuss.   “I see that scores [in whisky] become more like stock market recommendations these days,” he says.“I’m not too happy about that but that wouldn’t be the case if spirits, especially whisky, had remained a reasonably priced commodity,” he says, before adding: “But the cardinal sins are what they are.” It’s clear whisky drinkers respect Valentin’s voice, as they flock to his site in droves. What’s less clear, however – as an outsider looking in – is how producers feel about Valentin’s refusal to kowtow and sugar-coat his reviews.  “Producers have never quite known how to deal with independent voices,” he explains. “In general, they prefer influencers that they can pay and control, even if their audiences are smaller and less ‘on target’,” he adds, “for which I can’t blame them. Fortunately,” he continues, “not all distillers are the same. Some corporations are smarter than others and that often depends on the people within.”   When asked why he thinks people return to his site, which doesn’t have any of the bells and whistles you might expect from an ad man and is as no-frills today as it was two decades ago, Valentin says, as self-deprecatingly as ever: “I’m not really aware of everything that’s happening in the reviewing landscape, I have to say. If indeed people keep coming back to my assessment, that’s partly, I believe, because I started early and simply because they trust me. Trust is number one.”   In many ways, Valentin’s website is a collection. It’s a receptacle for his innermost thoughts and feelings about the things that matter most to him. Valentin has always been collector at heart. With an interest in stamps from childhood, he then graduated onto watches, wine and then whisky. The father of three has a broad and eclectic range of interests, including music (“all kinds”), advertising, motorcycling, wine, watches, food and travel which he has nurtured and indulged. Throughout the years, Valentin has had a front-row seat to the evolutions within these industries and the so-called art of collecting.   “Old-school collectors used to buy what they liked, never what was meant to see its value rise,” he says. “In the old days, you had to travel, to make phone calls, to go to festivals etc. Today,” he says somewhat ruefully, “you can buy anything, as long as you’ve got the money.” Valentin was ahead of the curve when he made the choice many years ago to buy as many different Old Clynelish and Brora single malts as he could, simply because they were his favourites. At the time, and up until 2005 to 2010, all whiskies – even the rarest – remained relatively cheap. After 2010, it was silly season and whiskies you could previously source were nigh on impossible to find or prohibitively expensive for some.  Valentin’s favourite whiskies have become some of the most desirable on the secondary market. Old Clynelish, produced before the distillery was rechristened Brora, have gained a huge following globally as people were charmed by the story and the characterful liquid the two distilleries produced. Now Brora is set to be re-opened, these single malts will only become more valuable. While his collection is no-doubt impressive – exact bottlings are not disclosed – there are some unicorns which still elude Valentin.   “Rather bizarrely and inexplicably, I prefer fatter spirits and fresher wines,” Valentin says, “in both cases with as little straight oak influence as possible. So, fat distillates, such as some coastal malts, some Jamaican rums etc. In wine, that would be the bright whites, Jura, Savoie, Rueda, Pacherenc, Irouleguy, Alsace, Wachau and Andalusia.”    “I know oak is crucial,” he adds, “you just shouldn’t feel it as such, according to my personal taste. But I insist, that’s personal.” Oak is a topic Valentin returns to several times. He feels it is the low-hanging fruit when it comes to innovation in the Scotch whisky industry.   “Sure, there are a few innovations around the casks,” he says, “but all makers use more or less the same.” The woods used are usually more active, which allows producers to sell much younger whisky for a good price while widening the ranges at the same time, he says.   “I’m not saying that’s bad,” he quickly adds, “but not many people are talking about the distilling regimes, the stills and so on, which was the number one topic 20 years ago.” He continues: “It is now all about wood. But, when we talk about wood that includes their flavouring with other spirits, wines, or even whiskies from other distilleries such as some peated ones, which is the latest trend, to peat single malts by doing some in-cask blending rather than bother with brewing and distilling some peated malt. “So, cutting corners for sure but on the other hand, I believe the average quality has risen pretty sharply. So, all remains good and well…”  This seems to be Valentin’s baseline. The whisky world might have changed but he believes it is the same at its core. There is an increase in branding and marketing (which is likely a source of joy and consternation for an ad man), there are more malts, and for the past five or six years, more distilleries from almost all countries.   “I’m not bored yet,” he says in his frank way, “and in general, whisky has got better on average, even if there are fewer utter glories and fewer total duds.”  If a man with Valentin’s reputation of no-holds-barred honesty is broadly happy, then we probably all should be too.   Browse all Scotch whisky  or  read more Editorial 

Serge Valentin is one of the most well-respected people in the fine spirits world. For decades, whisky enthusiasts have parted with thousands of pounds based on his reviews alone. Holly Motion asks him how it all began – and how the industry has evolved since he started writing about whisky for fun

Serge Valentin on the art of collecting, the role of the critic, and the changes he’s witnessed in the Scotch whisky industry over the past 20 years

Serge Valentin – the Joker in the pack

Serge Valentin: the Joker in the pack

When people say they’ve put their blood, sweat and tears into something, more often than not, it’s a figure of speech. This is not the case for Bimber Distillery founder Dariusz Plazewski, who has put everything into the build of his dream Speyside distillery, Dunphail. The day before we speak, Plazewski was on the roof of one of his new distillery buildings, mucking in and making sure the mammoth project that was a lifetime in the making stays on track.   The Polish-born Plazewski is a third-generation distiller – or more accurately, moonshiner – who emigrated to London 20 years ago. After observing the English craft distilling boom from afar, the trained architect seized the opportunity to put his family’s legacy and knowhow to good use and set about building Bimber, a single malt whisky distillery based in West London. Bimber’s inaugural bottling, The First, sold out within three hours of release in 2019 – and demand has far outstripped supply ever since.    Fast forward three years and Plazewski is mere months away from realising his dream of producing a single malt Scotch whisky. But it hasn’t been easy.   “There are lots of challenges,” he tells me matter-of-factly. When we catch up, after two aborted attempts, the Master Distiller sounds ever-so-slightly weary – and it’s not hard to fathom why. Today, he is speaking from London, where he’s been “sorting out a few things” at Bimber. He’s boarding a flight back to Scotland in a couple of days and then he’s taking a much-needed holiday – where he confesses he will be on email constantly.   Rest is not in his nature. (Plazewski has been pinballing from one project to the next for decades. By the end of 2022, he says he will have “given up” his other business and solely focus on spirits.) Nor is adhering to the status quo.    Since founding Bimber in 2015, the Master Distiller has prided himself on being a bit of a renegade. Where others have embraced modern whisky-making practices, Plazewski has been staunchly traditional in his approach – and it has served him exceedingly well. “Whisky was always my passion and when I found out that there was a craft movement of whisky and gin distilling, I just started researching,” he tells me. “It took me a long time but I wanted to do something different. I wanted to always do something which was a bit old-fashioned.”  Plazewski’s father and grandfather before him (illegally) made wine, spirits and beer in his native Poland – Bimber translates as “moonshine” in Polish – and Plazewski was an eager protégé with a natural talent from a young age. I refrain from asking how young.   “The good thing is that I understand all the production, all the process, all the fermentation, and how to make alcohol,” he tells me. “Not only whisky but how to make any alcohol really. Sense of smell, touch, and all this just naturally comes to me.”   Plazewski says his fate was sealed the moment he travelled to Scotland and fell in love with Speyside single malts. Dunphail was always going to happen – he just didn’t know when. Starting his (legal) distilling career with Bimber was a shrewd decision. English whisky was then a relative unknown, so Plazewski used this scene as his sandbox to prove to himself and others that traditional whisky production should not be consigned to the history books.   Bimber was, and for the time being still is, a small-scale traditional whisky-making operation. Local barley is grown on a single farm in neighbouring Hampshire. It is floor-malted at Britain’s oldest maltster, Warminster Maltings, and hand-mashed. The two copper pot stills are direct-fired (with a flame, as the name suggests, rather than the more modern and efficient method of steam) and fermentation times are twice the industry average at seven days.  These practices are astoundingly rare in today’s modern whisky world. The majority of producers abandoned floor maltings (the method of malting grain by hand on large malting floors) in favour of industrial malting processes and did away with direct-firing stills (in favour of steam) decades ago, deeming them inefficient and costly. While it is possible to find distillers who adopt some of these techniques – notable examples being Laphroaig, Glenfarclas and Bowmore – it is incredibly rare to find a producer who is able or willing to apply all these labour-intensive and budget-zapping practices.   “I will never be a distiller without floor maltings,” he says physically baulking at the idea of producing whisky any other way. “Never. No. For me, it is crucial,” he adds.    With Dunphail, Plazewski is going one step further than Bimber and building his own traditional floor maltings on-site. This will put Dunphail in a highly exclusive group, and the move has received mixed responses from Plazewski’s peers.   “For me it is very important,” Plazewski says. “I know many people said, wow are you crazy because this is hard work, this is lots of involvement, why are you doing it?”  I can’t help asking him the same. To which he says: “Because nobody is doing this anymore and I want to continue this craft, I want people to see how the whisky was made before. I think it is going to be good fun and I think this is going to be a great feature for our distillery.”  In addition to floor maltings, Dunphail’s stills will also be direct-fired – Glenmorangie was the first to install steam-heated stills in 1887 and countless others followed until only a handful of direct-fired producers remained. Plazewski is the first to acknowledge the practice of heating stills in this traditional way is far less efficient and costly but for him it was non-negotiable and vital to produce the highest-quality Speyside whisky possible – fruit-forward, oily and medium-bodied. He is also in the minority sourcing Dunphail’s barley and peat locally. There are undoubtedly easier routes to produce whisky but the mere suggestion is sacrilege to Plazewski.  Steadfast on his goal, Plazewski set about finding the perfect location to produce traditional single malt Scotch whisky. After years of searching, he settled on a location in the heart of Speyside – a typically renegade move as the majority of new distilleries have been built outside this iconic region. He explains: “The location was really difficult and challenging as well to be honest.”  “I love Speyside – it’s my favourite part in Scotland. First of all, it is a great area because it has got microclimate, so it’s not too cold there and it’s not too rainy. And it’s pretty sunny.” Additionally, he says: “Speyside whiskies are my favourite.”  When asked if he feels the weight of this tradition or pressure to produce a stand-out Speyside whisky in one of the most densely populated whisky-making regions in the world, he says not.   “We are tiny. We’re not going to be competing with the big, established brands. Most of the new distilleries are not built in Speyside, they are mostly built in Fife area. And not many are really going the route we are with the floor maltings and old-fashioned techniques we are trying to apply.”  In addition to the many challenges that come with building a distillery to a blueprint that no longer exists, Plazewski has embattled with supply chain issues following Brexit, Covid and now the war in Ukraine. It’s a minor miracle – and a testament to the tenacity of Plazewski – that the Dunphail build is on schedule and production is set to begin, as planned, at the end of the year.   When asked how he feels, Plazewski pauses for a moment, takes a short intake of breath and hurriedly says: “It’s amazing. It’s hard work. I need a break. That’s why I need this holiday because it’s not only physical work, it’s the mental as well – planning everything.”  He pauses again. “It’s been a stressful and challenging time. But we are on schedule, we’ve planned this well.”  After Dunphail is up and running, and Plazewski has trained his dream team to the standard of Bimber, you wonder what’s next. You sense he won’t just stop after realising his Scottish dream, and that there will be a new North Star.    When asked, he responds to the question with a wry smile, indicating this is not the first time it has been posed to him by others, or even himself. “I would say yes, I’m done after this, but people I know and people around me are saying to me, you are never going to stop, you’re going to find something else.  “But I would say I think I’ve done my dream and when this [distillery] is going to be open, I’m thinking to really concentrate and not do anything more. I don’t think I will put too much pressure on myself and my family again.” A seed of doubt creeps in and then he says resolutely: “No, this is it, it’s going to be my dream, it’s going to be super exciting and I’m not going to go for anything else. I’m just going to enjoy the time and share the drams.” We’ll ask him again in five years’ time.   For the time being, at least, Plazewski (and the wider whisky world) is satiated with turning modern whisky-making on its head and bringing fiercely traditional practices back to one of the oldest and most prestigious whisky regions in the world.   Browse all Scotch whisky or read more Editorial

For the past seven years Dariusz Plazewski has led the vanguard of English whisky-making at Bimber. With his first Scotch distillery, Dunphail, months away from production, the indefatigable architect-cum-Master-Distiller tells Holly Motion how he and his distilleries were built to be different   

Bimber has become a whisky-making icon. Now Master Distiller Dariusz Plazewski has set his sights on Scotland with Dunphail. We explore the ethos behind both

How the brains behind Bimber built Dunphail  

Dariusz Plazewski: grand designs

Anyone who’s had the misfortune of tasting a de-alcoholised version knows that alcohol is key to wine. Take it away and it leaves a gaping void in the glass – stripping the liquid of body and flavour. Those attempting to craft alcohol-free alternatives look to make up for its absence with sugar or flavourings, but the results don’t come close to the real thing. And of course the very fermentation process is key to complexity – there’s a reason we aren’t collecting single-site examples of even the finest raw grape juice. But alcohol’s a hot topic – and not just because of any health considerations. Trends and shifts in climate have seen the average ABV (alcohol by volume) inch upwards. Indeed, a report last year from Liv-ex suggested the average alcohol level has leapt almost an entire 1% for both California and Bordeaux since the 1990s. While once 14 or 14.5% might have been the purview only of the New World, it’s rapidly become the norm in Bordeaux. Rising temperatures are one element, as indeed is technology and know-how – harvesting cleaner, riper fruit and more efficient winemaking. Then, of course, there’s the fashion factor – the pendulum swing, arguably driven by Robert Parker, for bold, ripe, sweet and inevitably high-alcohol wines. “He loved that weight, that impression of sweetness,” Paul Hobbs tells me. “We jumped on the wagon – but we didn’t know what we were jumping on.” A cult name, Hobbs crafts some of Napa’s highest-scoring and most expensive Cabernets; indeed, Parker named him his Wine Personality of the Year twice. Born in New York State, the Davis-trained winemaker founded his namesake estate in 1991. He’d started his career at Robert Mondavi (arriving in 1977), working at Opus One and Simi before setting up on his own, with a flurry of personal projects and list of consultancies that has grown ever since. He openly admits that he got caught up in “Parkerisation”, crafting big, bold wines – no great surprise given the scores, and sales, that followed for those who did. But he’s been pulling back in recent years, and has never quite fit the cookie-cutout for the cult Cabernet crew. Ever since he first started making his own wines in the 1990s, he’s championed native yeasts (relatively radical at the time), and no fining or filtering. While he embraces oak, he’s always been aware that it’s the quality of fruit in the vineyard, preserved by operating a flawlessly clean winery, that is key to producing fine wine. Make no mistake that Hobbs makes rich, plush wines – and the alcohol levels certainly don’t sit at 12.5% – but for him there is much more to alcohol than one number. “I didn’t give much thought to it in the beginning,” Hobbs says. “And there wasn’t really much reason to.” When he was at Mondavi, the wines tended to sit at 13.5% – but then they started to go up. “There was a time when 16% was normal,” he confesses with some amazement. “Some of these wines were difficult. They didn’t age. They would get tired,” Hobbs says. “But all that took us time to learn – no one had ever been in that domain before.” He notes that there was “a backlash” in the British press against wines that didn’t please the palates of “the Hugh Johnsons, the Jancis Robinsons and Anthony Roses”; a response he clearly feels was a little unjust. “It’s far more complex than a simple number,” he says. “15 isn’t always 15.” And it’s true – alcohol doesn’t feel the same. How many times have you looked at the label of a wine and been surprised – either for better or worse? Alcohol is one element working in tandem with a wine’s body, concentration and flavour complexity – and there’s no easy figure to tell you how it integrates with these other components. But there’s another key reason why the same alcohol level can seem so different: the nature of the alcohol. The main alcohol in wine is ethanol (a molecule with two carbons), however fermentation produces other types of alcohols – specifically superior or higher alcohols. Often known as fusel oils – from a German term “Fusel” which is colloquial for low-quality booze – these alcohols have three to six carbons in their molecular form and are significantly more viscous (hence “oils”).  While ethanol is pure and relatively neutral, these heavier superior alcohols can – in low volumes – bring flavour, texture and interest. “It’s what makes something more than vodka,” Hobbs explains. Hexanols can add herbaceous aromas; 2-phenylethanol gives a rose-like scent. But they’re also associated with headaches and hangovers. In the world of spirits, these fusel oils are what runs out of the still last – forming the “tails” of distillation, which are used to varying degrees depending on the type of spirit being produced. “Alcohol is alcohol? Well, yes and no,” says Hobbs. It's high numbers of these superior alcohols, he believes, that can make one 15% wine feel clumsy and lumbering, while another – with lower fusel oil levels – can carry the same ABV with ease. The production of these superior alcohols depends on many things – yeast strain, temperature, oxygen availability and acidity. In general, red grapes produce more of the compounds (which is partly why spirits tend to use white grapes as their base). But Hobbs thinks it ultimately comes back to the vineyard: he’s started noticing that if berries are heat-damaged, they produce more superior alcohols. “Our goal is to keep these superior alcohols as low as possible – and that’s just about harvesting not sun-damaged fruit,” Hobbs explains. Under the warmth of the Californian sun, it’s common to get sun damage early in the season, but shrivelled berries tend to fall off nascent clusters of their own accord; more concerning is fruit that can be damaged internally and then won’t go through véraison, which needs to be sorted out. Late in the season, Hobbs and his team look to walk through the vines and cut off any “shoulders” (the side cluster at the very top of a bunch of grapes) that have been exposed. With global warming, this is an increasing threat – and an element of climate change that is only now being considered. If grapes are sunburnt or shrivelled, they tend to struggle with fermentation, and the stressed yeasts produce more of the superior alcohols. “The wine is going to be fat and heavy on the palate,” says Hobbs. “You can lower the alcohol by adding water – but it doesn’t change its personality.” If the fruit is in good shape – he says – you simply don’t have that issue, even at 15.5%. And those wines, provided they’ve got the requisite balance, age amazingly. Rajat Parr (star sommelier turned winemaker) and Jasmine Hirsch (of Hirsch Vineyards) founded In Pursuit of Balance (IPOB) in 2011 to champion lighter wines that they felt “weren’t chasing after ratings from wine critics”. These “new California” wines (Jon Bonné published his book The New California Wine in 2013) tended to have lower alcohols and less oak – following the swing of the pendulum back the other way; an anti-Parker effort in many ways. I attended the last London IPOB tasting in 2016, catching the crest of the wave as the movement called it quits – feeling they’d achieved their aim of building the reputation of an alternative California. Paul Hobbs arguably sits at the opposite end of the California wine spectrum (“Should all wines be 13.5%?” he says to me, “Why is that the magic number?”) – but philosophically, they’re surprisingly aligned. It’s not about the number, it’s about the balance – and Hobbs, like any posterchild of the new California movement, will tell you that the secret lies in the vineyard. The challenge is to farm and pick the perfect fruit – to find the sweet spot between flavour, sugar and phenolic ripeness. As Hobbs says to me, “That’s the dance between man and nature.” Forget the maths; this is farming. A note on the numbers Strictly speaking, the alcohol level on any label isn’t exactly what’s in the bottle. For wines sold in the EU and UK (both those made here and imported), producers are given 0.5% leeway – meaning that what’s on the bottle is generally reflective of its contents. In the US and Australia, however, wines sold domestically can differ by as much as 1.5% from the label – meaning a wine labelled as 14% could be anything from 12.5 to 15.5%. Browse all Paul Hobbs listings or discover more Editorial

With climate change and the influence of Robert Parker, it’s undeniable that we’ve seen a rising tide of alcohol levels. But there’s much more to the conversation than a simple number – as we discovered tasting and talking with Paul Hobbs, one of Napa’s leading names

The Napa winemaker Paul Hobbs on how we perceive alcohol in wine and why the alcohol level on any label isn’t exactly what’s in the bottle. 

Paul Hobbs on alcohol in wine 

The nature of the numbers: Paul Hobbs on alcohol

The smallest event can set us on our path. A chance encounter, a favourite book narrated to us as a child, or a popular culture icon that we’re desperate to imitate. For Meghan Ireland, it was a double-page spread in a magazine. She might not remember who it was about, but the subject lit a fire in her that burns just as brightly many years later. “I was like wow, that’s what I want to do,” she says – eyes as wide as saucers – in the back room of the WhistlePig farm-cum-distillery in Vermont. The Whisky Advocate feature on a female Master Distiller showed the second-year Chemical Engineering student and “total chemistry nerd” a career she hadn’t previously considered open to her. “I got super determined after that,” she says. After cutting her teeth in a craft cider role, Ireland joined WhistlePig, or “the playground for distillation” as she describes it, which was under the inimitable stewardship of distilling icon Dave Pickerell. “He was just an amazing guy,” Ireland says. “Big personality and incredibly smart. He was always pushing innovation and experimentation and that’s something that has really stuck with this company.” Pickerell’s untimely passing in 2018 sent shockwaves across the industry, and many still talk about the role he played in the craft spirits revolution and subsequent rye whiskey revival. Many twittered about the fate of WhistlePig without the great man and his boundless creativity. This speculation only intensified after his successor’s short spell at the helm of the company. Today, Emily Harrison and Meghan Ireland head up distilling and blending at WhistlePig and, if their enthusiasm and first whiskeys are anything to go by, then those naysayers were very wide of the mark. “Dave gave us the ability to kind of run wild and create different experimentation options,” Ireland says. This creative energy is palpable in Ireland’s words and evident in everything the team has produced to date. “To this day my CEO asks me on a weekly basis, ‘What’s your new idea? What are we trying this week? What’s the new concept?’ He is always pushing, and he is always asking.” For some, this relentless pursuit might be draining, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Ireland. “To actually be able to explore and experiment with different options has been awesome.” Since its inception in 2015, WhistlePig has gone from a slightly obscure project to a formidable force on not only the American whiskey, but global whisk(e)y, stage. To get the brand off its feet, Pickerell and founder Raj Bhakta were very transparent about the fact they sourced whiskey from elsewhere in Canada. Today, the distillery is making strides in becoming a truly farm-to-bottle rye whiskey. “As much as we can, we want to produce a product that is ours fully,” Ireland says. “We are excited about releasing more and more of our own stuff to show off to the world what we can do here in Vermont.” The 500-acre former dairy farm is in a unique position – conceptionally and geographically. While the land may be fertile and the agricultural produce is verdant, the soil and water are both incredibly hard. As a consequence, the team has continually experimented, adapted and learned the best ways to use its triple terroir – grain, water and wood – to its advantage. “It makes who we are,” Ireland says. “You’re starting with very simple ingredients – rye and water. So, they are going to make up a big part of your flavour profile. I think terroir is huge in any distillation process.” Another huge part of the innovation at WhistlePig and the thing that really excites Ireland is the single finish programme. The Whiskey Blender has carte blanche to pick barrels and make one-off products. Part of her role, and one you sense she relishes, is finding the barrels. Ireland scours barrel libraries and leans on her contacts for anything new and exciting that appears on the market. There’s little she won’t try at least once. “I’m willing to put whiskey into anything,” Ireland says with those wide eyes. “I’m always looking for something different and unique. It’s fun to see when it’s going to hit that sweet spot between under-finished and over-finished.” She has been experimenting with Triple Sec and apricot brandy barrels, and a “couple of different wine finishes” are all maturing when we speak. The way the stills are designed (by Pickerell) allow for flexibility and are perfect for experimentation on both the front and back end. As with any experimentation, there have been some less successful outcomes. “I did a coffee barrel that was awful,” Ireland says, stifling a laugh. “It was bad. I was thinking like Irish Coffees and I thought it could work really well. People drink whiskey and coffee together anyways but that did not turn out good.” She hasn’t abandoned that idea just yet though. “I do think there are some adjustments that I could make and potentially still get a good product on that line of thought, but our first try was not there.” In terms of unicorns, Ireland says there are a couple of different Californian barrels she’d like to try and she’s trying to get her hands on a rosé barrel. “Not a lot of rosés are barrel-finished,” she says. “But I think that would be super interesting and a lot of fruity flavours would come into the whiskey potentially.” For the time being, the Whiskey Blender is experimenting with the many barrels she watches over. “I’m going out pretty regularly and pulling samples and trying to hit that point where I think we get the best flavour out of the different barrels. I’m getting to continue to push the boundaries of what we can put whiskey into.” One suspects it won’t be long before Ireland’s story inspires a whole new generation of chemistry nerds. Browse all available WhistlePig whiskeys or read more Editorial 

Since it stormed onto the whiskey scene in 2015, WhistlePig has rarely been out of the headlines. Success, tragedy and villainy have all befallen the zero-generation distillery in its short history. Holly Motion talks to the bright new light at the Vermont-based innovator

WhistlePig's bright new light on the next chapter in the Vermont-based rye whiskey innovator's history after a period of flux and front-page stories.

The story behind WhistlePig Rye Whiskey

WhistlePig: behind the headlines

What is Ornellaia?  Ornellaia is one of Italy’s most respected wineries, based in the Tuscan foothills of Bolgheri. Its top wine – simply titled Ornellaia – is a Bordeaux blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot and Petit Verdot, first produced in 1985.  Is Ornellaia a Super Tuscan? Yes. Bordeaux varieties grown in Tuscany qualify it as a Super Tuscan. It is in fact situated next door to the pioneering Sassicaia property – the first “Super-Tuscan” estate to start producing a Bordeaux blend in Italy. Ornellaia was founded by Lodovico Antinori – who was actually the nephew of Sassicaia’s Mario Incisa della Rocchetta.   Is Ornellaia owned by the Antinori family?  Not anymore. In 2002, Lodovico Antinori initially sold the property to US winemaker Robert Mondavi, who then sold a 50% share to Frescobaldi – another historic Italian wine-producing family. Following the sale of the Robert Mondavi corporation to Constellation Brands in 2005, Frescobaldi took full ownership of the property. They also own two other iconic Tuscan properties: Ornellaia’s neighbouring property Masseto (Italy’s top Merlot, which up until 2019 was also produced at Ornellaia) and the Brunello di Montalcino estate Tenuta Luce.   Does Ornellaia have anything to do with Solaia?  In short, no. Solaia is another Super Tuscan owned by the Antinori family – Ornellaia’s founder Lodovico Antinori’s brother Piero – so you would be forgiven for getting them confused. Solaia is a Cabernet Sauvignon and Sangiovese blend grown on the Tuscan hills within the Chianti Classico region and is situated next to the Tignanello vineyard, another Super Tuscan also owned by Antinori.  What’s so special about Bolgheri?  Bolgheri’s close proximity to the ocean means less cloud and a higher level of reflected light from the sea, magnifying the solar intensity. Secondly these coastal flatlands, in between the mountainous islands of Corsica and the Tuscan hills, are effectively a corridor of wind which creates a high diurnal shift in temperature. This fluctuation between hot days and cool nights locks in the grapes’ acidity, while giving the fruit great concentration and ripeness – enabling the later-ripening Bordeaux grapes Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot to thrive.   What makes Ornellaia so unique? Neighbouring both Sassicaia and Masseto, Ornellaia is well situated in the foothills of Bolgheri. Being one of the early settlers in the region, they are one of the few producers who own vineyards in the foothills. The surrounding woodlands are protected and therefore more recent arrivals could only plant vines on the valley floor. Here there is a complex mosaic of soils ranging from marine, alluvial and volcanic soils. Intraplot management means every plot is individually assessed, picked and matured in oak for 12 months before the final blending takes place. Within one vineyard alone the four varieties, eight different rootstocks and multiple geological fault-lines provide a complex palette of expressions to choose from.   Who makes Ornellaia? Axel Heinz has been the winemaker at both Ornellaia and Masseto since 2005, taking over from Thomas Duroux (now the winemaker at Château Palmer). Heinz – originally from Bordeaux and initially working in Pomerol – was well-placed to take on Ornellaia’s expanding portfolio. The estate now produces seven wines in total, one grappa and an olive oil. Le Serre Nuove is the baby brother of Ornellaia (another red Bordeaux blend, very much seen as the Second wine to Ornellaia) typically from younger vines.  What are the great Ornellaia vintages? Speaking with Ornellaia’s Matteo Zanardello, his favourite vintages for drinking now are the 1998 – so elegant, fresh, bright and one of the best vintages in Ornellaia’s history, even if
underplayed by the critics. The 2001 is, he feels, beautiful beautifully now, while the 2006 is starting to open up. A notably fresh vintage with great ageing potential, Galloni described the 2006 as “a breathtaking wine of the highest level” (98 points) – and Matteo compares it to the
soon-to-be-released 2018. Monica Larner rated the 2010 97+, describing it as “a truly outstanding wine that leaves a lasting memory for those who are lucky enough to enjoy it”. The 2011 was slightly overlooked, initially considered to be a little austere, however today
it shows all the great traits of Ornellaia and is another great vintage in Matteo’s view. What is the most recent vintage? Well, a new vintage of Ornellaia is about to be released next week. The 2018, according to winemaker Axel Heinz is characterised by a unique aromatic intensity. In general, the vintage produced much more balanced wines than the intensely hot and dry summer of 2017. The 2018 Ornellaia is therefore a much more elegant offering, following the intensely concentrated 2017. Wine critic Antonio Galloni has already scored it 97 points, comparing it to the 2004 in terms of its silky, aromatic character, saying the vintage is “more about finesse than raw power”.   Keep an eye out for the 2018’s release this week. In the meantime, browse all available Ornellaia listings and find out more about the property 

With the release of 2018 Ornellaia on the horizon, we tell you everything you need to know about the estate – and why it’s become such an icon of the Italian fine wine scene 

Everything you need to know about Ornellaia – and why it’s become such an icon of the Italian fine wine scene 

Everything you need to know about Ornellaia

Ornellaia: a cheat sheet

Few people have been lucky enough to be as immersed in Burgundy’s finest wines as Martin Donatsch. His father bought a pallet of top Burgundy, including those of Domaine de la Romanée Conti (DRC) and Armand Rousseau, every year from the early 1970s onwards. Martin’s birth in 1978 – a fantastic vintage in Burgundy – only encouraged his father to buy more, and Martin, now in his early 40s, has been enjoying wines from the family collection ever since. Just last week, he uncorked a 1978 DRC Echézeaux. This immersion has provided him with an extraordinary understanding of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir – something that has doubtless helped him become one of the world’s great emerging winemaking talents. Donatsch is one of a small number of producers growing Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and the native Completer grape in Bündner Herrschaft in Switzerland. This tiny Swiss valley, for the time being, remains largely unknown – but, as Donatsch certainly believes, it may just be one of the world’s last great regions for fine wine production.The altitude (500 to 700 metres above sea-level) sees the vines flower a week later than is typical in Burgundy, yet picking dates are three to four weeks later. This provides a much longer growing season, allowing for complex flavours and aromas to develop in the grapes. Despite the altitude, the grapes reach good levels of ripeness thanks to the warm, dry wind – known locally as a “foehn”, that sweeps through the valley. Unlike Burgundy, autumns here are dry, so there is rarely pressure to pick before rain arrives, allowing for additional hang-time. The altitude keeps the acidity high, offsetting the naturally slightly higher alcohol (typically around 14%), meaning the wines never feel overly alcoholic. While Bündner Herrschaft has been home to Pinot Noir since the 15th century, Donatsch – now in the hands of the fifth generation – has pioneered the quality revolution in the region. Martin’s father Thomas Donatsch was not only the first to – then illegally – plant Chardonnay in 1975, but also the first to introduce French barriques to Switzerland, influenced by his vigneron friend André Noblet, the winemaker at Domaine de la Romanée-Conti from 1945 to 1986. In the early 1970s, Thomas – a young 20-year-old about to take on the family winery – set off to learn from the best. Obsessed with Burgundy from a young age, he knocked on the door unannounced at Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. In a fortuitous set of circumstances, Noblet had just returned from his first ever holiday (in Gran Canaria) and the first extended time away from his beloved wines. He had missed his wine cellar so much during the trip, he couldn’t wait to return. Finding the young Donatsch sitting by the door and desperate to reacquaint himself with his wines, Noblet invited Thomas to spend the afternoon with him tasting the different cuvées from barrel. Martin believes his dad gained Noblet’s trust by initially criticising DRC’s Montrachet 1968. Tasting the wine Donatsch reportedly said, “There is no way this wine could come from the great Montrachet!” A little precocious, perhaps: fortunately Noblet agreed it wasn’t his finest vintage, but the result of experiments in the winery. It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship, with Donatsch returning to the DRC cellars every year. On each visit, Noblet would always pour him a glass of Montrachet 1968 and ask his opinion before tasting any of the other wines. It wasn’t long before Donatsch was buying a pallet of Grand Cru Burgundy every year (at that time a bottle of La Tâche was just over £35 a bottle). Noblet also started to help Donatsch improve his Pinot Noir – first by giving Thomas his first three French barriques. These weren’t just any old barrels though, they had previously held La Tâche and were made by François Frères – who at the time had just two customers, Domaine de la Romanée-Conti and Henri Boillot. Donatsch took the barrels back to Switzerland, and the winery has been using François Frères barriques ever since. I asked Martin why the introduction of French barriques in Switzerland was such a revolution for the region. At the time, he says, the Swiss wine schools were obsessed with cleanliness – teaching the importance of filtering wines, using protective winemaking methods and using stainless steel tanks even for the red wines. The use of barrels was the opposite; it meant no additional filtering and a more oxidative environment. Donatsch believes the introduction of barriques around the world revolutionised fine wine. Angelo Gaja was the first to do it in Italy; Torres the first in Spain; Mondavi in the US; and Keller in Germany. But Thomas Donatsch was doing this 10 years before any of them, thanks to the influence of André Noblet, as well as Jean-Bernard Delmas – the winemaker at Château Haut-Brion, another of Thomas Donatsch’s influential friends.  Speaking with Martin Donatsch, you can’t help but feel he has got all his priorities in order. The small size of his winery means he can control every aspect of production, while benefitting from the variety that a life in wine can offer. Producing just 35,000 bottles a year means that when he is not in the vineyard tending his crop, he is in the winery, or fulfilling orders and redesigning his website (graphic design is another passion of his). Being one of the country’s most prestigious winemakers he sells his wine into the country’s top restaurants and luxury hotels, who can’t get enough of his wine. Donatsch’s annual release of wines sells out in just hours. While this is a great sign of his talents, it is also why many people outside of Switzerland have never heard of, let alone experienced, the world-class Pinot Noir and Chardonnay from the winery. Despite the demand for the Donatsch wines, there are no plans to expand: firstly because the authorities won’t allow it, but second because Martin loves the “human” size of the business and doesn’t want to lose that. Martin is, however, keen for more people outside of Switzerland to taste them. Beyond the tiny volumes that make it as far as export, to source these extraordinary wines you’ll have to (when one can) visit the winery yourself. You may just, knocking on the cellar door unannounced, receive a welcome as warm as young Thomas Donatsch did at Romanée-Conti.  Browse the latest releases from Domaine Donatsch or explore more Editorial

There is such domestic demand for the wines of Domaine Donatsch that they are rarely seen outside Switzerland. Tucked in amongst the Alps, this property makes world-class Pinot Noir and Chardonnay that gives Burgundy a run for its money. Gavin Smith explores the extraordinary site 

Winemaker and Domaine Donatsch owner Martin Donatsch on his world-class Swiss Pinot Noir and Chardonnay that give Burgundy a run for its money.

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