Maylis Marcenat does not fit the stereotype for a Bordeaux producer. Lively, down-to-earth and humble, she’s as unstuffy as they come. She is the fourth generation of her family to run Clos de Sarpe – a small Grand Cru Classé Saint-Emilion estate that has long gone under the radar.  The history of Clos de Sarpe  The Clos de Sarpe name first appeared in 1897, given by a Monsieur A. Ducarpe to his property on the Sarpe plateau. Baron Henri du Foussat de Bogeron bought the vineyard in 1905, merging it with the vines of nearby Badette to create Ch. Haut-Sarpe. Jean Beyney bought Clos de Sarpe in 1923 and revived the original name. His son, Yvan Beyney, took over in 1952, who in turn passed the property to his son Jean-Guy Beyney in 1986. Jean-Guy still owns the estate today but retired in 2021, handing it over to Marcenat, who is his niece. (Jean-Guy has a son, Charles, who gives his name to the property’s second wine and will inherit Clos de Sarpe eventually but isn’t interested in running it day to day.)  A video of the vineyard The style of the Clos de Sarpe wines through the ages  The style and winemaking have evolved over time – with each generation putting their own stamp on the wines. In the early days, the wine was all whole-bunch fermented, with long macerations (40 to 50 days) and spent several years in concrete tank before bottling. Indeed, under Yvan, this continued. He only sold wine to those who could store the wine properly, and as such some wines spent extended periods of time in tank – the 1966 was in concrete for 10 years, for example. Yvan looked for purity of fruit, picking comparatively late (he was always proud to say he picked at the same time as Figeac, Marcenat says) and didn’t ever use oak. The wines were hard in their youth, needing time to soften, yet having great stability from their long élevage.  Under Marcenat’s uncle, who arrived in 1986, things started to change – with the late 1990s a pivotal moment. Jean-Guy favours powerful wines and reduced the amount of time the wines spent in tank, introducing de-stemming (gradually, from 1997, at first all done by hand) and oak barrels – with the élevage shifting from all concrete to 100% new oak between 1997 and 1999. He hired Michel Rolland to consult from 1998, and reduced yields – cropping a maximum 25hl/ha.  In 2005, Jean-Guy introduced a mechanical destemmer and densimetric sorting  – both of which contributed to a significant shift in quality, and everything has been destemmed since 2010, to encourage a rounder tannin profile in youth. In 2012, the property was granted Grand Cru Classé status – recognising their efforts. Marcenat joined the team officially in 2014, bringing her own vision, pushing for further change from 2016 and finally taking full control in 2021.  Clos de Sarpe today  The Clos de Sarpe vineyards cover 3.68 hectares, all in one block on the Sarpe plateau and south/southeast facing, just a kilometre from the village of Saint-Emilion itself and close to both TrotteVieille and Troplong Mondot, as well as Sansonnet and Haut-Sarpe.  The topsoil is thin here – with just 20cm in places – and lies over limestone bedrock, which contributes to the very high acidity of the wines (normally with a low pH of 3.2-3.4). Over half of the vineyard is between 60 and 80 years old, with the oldest Cabernet Franc now over 100 years in age, planted by Marcenat’s great-great-uncle in 1923.   The vine age combines with the limestone bedrock to help this site weather hot, dry conditions – a particular boon as the climate shifts. The limestone acts like a sponge, holding water, and the roots reach deep into the bedrock, accessing these reserves. Yields are naturally low given the age of the vines, and recent vintages have seen some tiny yields but Marcenat aims for around 35hl/ha in a good year (more than under her uncle and the Rolland influence).  To preserve the age of the vineyard, Marcenat is gradually starting to replant the site. As part of this project, she has added a little more Cabernet Franc, as well as a tiny portion of Petit Verdot. Previously 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet Franc, today the vineyard comprises 78% Merlot, 20% Cabernet Franc and 2% Petit Verdot.   The family has always worked organically, with no pesticides or herbicides ever used, but the vineyard has been officially certified since the 2020 vintage – something that is of particular importance to Marcenat. For her, the work is all done in the vineyard rather than the winery and the philosophy very Burgundian, with everything kept as simple as possible.  The team is tiny and Marcenat does almost everything herself, supported by Frank Bartolomucci. Today the fruit is all picked by hand, chilled overnight, destemmed and then density-sorted. Each parcel is vinified separately, with most fermented in the concrete tanks that have been used since the 1950s, however the oldest Cabernet Franc is fermented in a 600-litre new oak barrel. She only uses indigenous yeast so fermentations are slow, at least 10 days generally. Maceration times are long, with the wine normally spending around 40, and up to 50 days on the skins, depending on the vintage, but with very gentle extraction. Malolactic fermentation can be challenging with the low pH, so she routinely has to inoculate to force this through (malolactic is essential for wine stability, particularly for wine intended for long ageing).  The portion of new oak has been toned down, with Marcenat ageing the wine for a year in around 70% new oak, with the rest in second-fill barrels (and occasionally some concrete if required). It is then blended together and aged in concrete for around six months prior to bottling without filtration. The oak is all 228-litre Burgundian barrels (versus Bordeaux’s traditional 225 litres), largely Tronçais oak from the cooper Taransaud. Marcenat feels Burgundian barrels pair better with the wine, liking the thicker staves and longer seasoning (30 months versus the 24 that is the norm for Bordeaux).  The Clos de Sarpe wines today  Clos de Sarpe makes two wines: the eponymous Grand Vin and a second wine, Charles de Sarpe, which was introduced in 1997, named after Charles Beyney – Jean-Guy’s son and Marcenat’s cousin. Up to and including the 2015 vintage, the second wine was a saignée of the Grand Vin, used to increase the concentration of the Grand Vin. Since then, it has only been made in certain vintages when there is enough fruit to make a second wine – such as 2019 and 2023.  While most producers will talk about the freshness in their wines coming from the Cabernet Franc, for Marcenat it is the Merlot that brings the acidity, while the Cabernet Franc provides the wine’s structure.  Tasting Clos de Sarpe back to the 1960s, the site’s freshness shines through consistently, as well as a distinctive earthy minerality. The purity of a wine like the 1966 is extraordinary – and it’s holding up beautifully today. You can still see traces of the immense structure the 1975 and 1988 must have had in their youth – providing a gentle grip today alongside their savoury intensity. While the wines were significantly more powerful in style in the late 1990s and 2000s, that power feels balanced today, the 100% new oak integrated and unobtrusive – and the 2001 a particular standout. The 2010 and 2015 vintages of Charles de Sarpe are beautiful wines, with a softer feel and elegance – juice that would be worthy of many Grands Vins.   These wines might once have been known for their power and punch, but Marcenat has tweaked the style, leaning into the natural freshness of the site. She looks for silky tannins and a purity that makes the wines more approachable in youth. It is, she will tell you, very simply the wine she likes and wants to make. Tasting the wines en primeur since she took over suggests that only good things lie ahead here. With each vintage, Marcenat’s imprint on the wines feels clearer and quality belies the growing season’s conditions, testament to both her talent and the terroir.  A note on the Clos de Sarpe labels  As you can see in the line-up for this tasting (below), the labels have changed over the years. The oldest wines made under Yvan Beyney bear a very traditional label, which changed in 1986 to have a blue border when Jean-Guy (Marcenat’s uncle) took over. When the style of wine shifted in the 1990s, Jean-Guy changed the label again (from the 1998 vintage) to one with a gold foil border. The current label was introduced in 2012 when the property achieved Grand Cru Classé status.   The vertical tasting: Clos de Sarpe 1966-2015  2015 Charles de Sarpe: Maylis Marcenat recalls the 2015 harvest vividly – as it took place around the same time that she gave birth to her twin daughters. It was the last vintage in which the second wine was produced as a saignée of the Grand Vin, echoing its proportions of 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet Franc, and effectively a less powerful version, aged in 50% new oak and 50% one-year-old oak. The wine is still lithe and vibrant, offering bright red berries on the nose. The palate displays more savoury tones, with macerated red plum and a fine chalky coating of tannins, cut by bright acidity that drives through to a mouthwatering finish. This is in a beautiful spot now.   2015 Clos de Sarpe: The typical blend of 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet Franc (as with every vintage shown in this vertical), the 2015 Clos de Sarpe was aged in 100% new oak. As you might guess from the élevage and the power of the vintage, this is not a shy and retiring wine – yet Clos de Sarpe’s trademark acidity drives through its core and balances the wine’s intensity. It still feels youthful, packed with dark cherry fruit on the compact nose, that gradually offers sweeter, scented tones with time in the glass. There’s a solidity to the palate – with a mass of rich, concentrated fruit, yet there’s a juiciness here to that makes it mouthwatering, with a sweet plumpness. It’s round and full, with a firm grip of tannin on the finish. Decant to enjoy now, with plenty of air, but this will unfurl over the next decade and beyond.  2010 Charles de Sarpe: The 2010 vintage was the first in which the fruit was all destemmed at Clos de Sarpe. Tasting the second wine with winemaker Maylis Marcenat, she can’t help but wonder why her uncle didn’t put such gorgeous juice into the Grand Vin. It’s a supple, beautiful example of mature Saint-Emilion now – the nose subtle, shifting between sweet fruit, lifted florals and black truffle complexity. The palate is long and balanced, beautifully resolved, seamless and soft, still with mouthwatering freshness and an earthy mineral edge to the long finish. Lovely.  2001 Clos de Sarpe: This was a standout in our vertical – and a wine that holds a special place for Marcenat. As she told us, “For me, it’s better than 2000 – with more freshness, more balance, more everything.” The 100% new oak is integrated, with the nose now showing plenty of tertiary complexity: iron, sousbois and a subtle leafiness mingles with the still fresh, soft strawberry fruit. There’s a transparency here, yet still plenty of concentration – the palate still lithe with soft, plummy red fruit and high juicy acidity that supports the fruit and fills the long finish, complemented by an earthy note. Superb.  1998 Clos de Sarpe: This was one of the first vintages to be aged in oak, seeing 80% new wood for its élevage. It was a great vintage for the Right Bank – as is clear from this wine. The 1998 Clos de Sarpe is beautifully mature, with savoury, leathery aromas and darker bramble fruit versus the more red-fruited 2001 shown alongside. The palate has a savoury iron seam, the tannins still offering a satisfying chewy grip to frame the juicy hedgerow fruit. This blossomed in the glass, revealing further complexity and vibrancy. Long, balanced and very impressive.  1988 Clos de Sarpe: The 1988 vintage offered few challenges and is a fairly classic year. It comes from the era when Clos de Sarpe was all whole-bunch fermented and saw no oak (aged only in concrete) – as with the two vintages below. There was a slight mustiness to this wine at first, but gradually the wine revealed its true character, with sweet, dried fruit and intense, savoury notes – an umami richness reminiscent of marmite. There is still surprising structure and power here, although the wine isn’t quite as concentrated as the 1998, for example. The acidity keeps things fresh, with the scent of truffle and undergrowth lingering on the finish.  1975 Clos de Sarpe: This was recorked in 2020. The 1975 vintage produced some particularly tannic wines – and you can still feel the structure of the year here, with a phenolic grip that frames the palate. The nose is intensely savoury, appealing to lovers of old-school Bordeaux with barnyard and horse leather, gradually revealing a herbal lift – something almost menthol-like. Although this is firmly tertiary in profile, there’s still vibrancy to the palate, with soft waves of fruit and an iron-edged finish.  1966 Clos de Sarpe: Some older vintages of Clos de Sarpe spent extended periods of time in tank before bottling – as is the case with this 1966, which stayed in concrete for almost 10 years. It was recorked in 2019 and is an amazing wine that is singing today. The nose still offers surprising fruit purity – soft, cooked plum and deeper bramble fruit, as well as savoury sousbois and – with time in the glass – liquorice and an almost marmite intensity. It’s ripe and vibrant, with amazing freshness on the palate, the tannins are seamlessly integrated with the sweet fruit. Long, supple and balanced, a beautiful wine to drink now.     Explore all current listings of Clos de Sarpe or read more about Bordeaux 

Few people have heard of Ch. Clos de Sarpe – and even fewer have followed its evolution in recent years. We sat down with Maylis Marcenat – the fourth generation of her family to run the 3.7-hectare estate – to taste through a vertical and explore the site’s identity through the ages 

Exploring the evolution of this tiny Saint-Emilion estate through a six-decade vertical tasting of the wines with winemaker Maylis Marcenat 

Test Article With Video

Maylis Marcenat does not fit the stereotype for a Bordeaux producer. Lively, down-to-earth and humble, she’s as unstuffy as they come. She is the fourth generation of her family to run Clos de Sarpe – a small Grand Cru Classé Saint-Emilion estate that has long gone under the radar.  The history of Clos de Sarpe  The Clos de Sarpe name first appeared in 1897, given by a Monsieur A. Ducarpe to his property on the Sarpe plateau. Baron Henri du Foussat de Bogeron bought the vineyard in 1905, merging it with the vines of nearby Badette to create Ch. Haut-Sarpe. Jean Beyney bought Clos de Sarpe in 1923 and revived the original name. His son, Yvan Beyney, took over in 1952, who in turn passed the property to his son Jean-Guy Beyney in 1986. Jean-Guy still owns the estate today but retired in 2021, handing it over to Marcenat, who is his niece. (Jean-Guy has a son, Charles, who gives his name to the property’s second wine and will inherit Clos de Sarpe eventually but isn’t interested in running it day to day.)  The style of the Clos de Sarpe wines through the ages  The style and winemaking have evolved over time – with each generation putting their own stamp on the wines. In the early days, the wine was all whole-bunch fermented, with long macerations (40 to 50 days) and spent several years in concrete tank before bottling. Indeed, under Yvan, this continued. He only sold wine to those who could store the wine properly, and as such some wines spent extended periods of time in tank – the 1966 was in concrete for 10 years, for example. Yvan looked for purity of fruit, picking comparatively late (he was always proud to say he picked at the same time as Figeac, Marcenat says) and didn’t ever use oak. The wines were hard in their youth, needing time to soften, yet having great stability from their long élevage.  Under Marcenat’s uncle, who arrived in 1986, things started to change – with the late 1990s a pivotal moment. Jean-Guy favours powerful wines and reduced the amount of time the wines spent in tank, introducing de-stemming (gradually, from 1997, at first all done by hand) and oak barrels – with the élevage shifting from all concrete to 100% new oak between 1997 and 1999. He hired Michel Rolland to consult from 1998, and reduced yields – cropping a maximum 25hl/ha.  In 2005, Jean-Guy introduced a mechanical destemmer and densimetric sorting  – both of which contributed to a significant shift in quality, and everything has been destemmed since 2010, to encourage a rounder tannin profile in youth. In 2012, the property was granted Grand Cru Classé status – recognising their efforts. Marcenat joined the team officially in 2014, bringing her own vision, pushing for further change from 2016 and finally taking full control in 2021.  Clos de Sarpe today  The Clos de Sarpe vineyards cover 3.68 hectares, all in one block on the Sarpe plateau and south/southeast facing, just a kilometre from the village of Saint-Emilion itself and close to both TrotteVieille and Troplong Mondot, as well as Sansonnet and Haut-Sarpe.  The topsoil is thin here – with just 20cm in places – and lies over limestone bedrock, which contributes to the very high acidity of the wines (normally with a low pH of 3.2-3.4). Over half of the vineyard is between 60 and 80 years old, with the oldest Cabernet Franc now over 100 years in age, planted by Marcenat’s great-great-uncle in 1923.   The vine age combines with the limestone bedrock to help this site weather hot, dry conditions – a particular boon as the climate shifts. The limestone acts like a sponge, holding water, and the roots reach deep into the bedrock, accessing these reserves. Yields are naturally low given the age of the vines, and recent vintages have seen some tiny yields but Marcenat aims for around 35hl/ha in a good year (more than under her uncle and the Rolland influence).  To preserve the age of the vineyard, Marcenat is gradually starting to replant the site. As part of this project, she has added a little more Cabernet Franc, as well as a tiny portion of Petit Verdot. Previously 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet Franc, today the vineyard comprises 78% Merlot, 20% Cabernet Franc and 2% Petit Verdot.   The family has always worked organically, with no pesticides or herbicides ever used, but the vineyard has been officially certified since the 2020 vintage – something that is of particular importance to Marcenat. For her, the work is all done in the vineyard rather than the winery and the philosophy very Burgundian, with everything kept as simple as possible.  The team is tiny and Marcenat does almost everything herself, supported by Frank Bartolomucci. Today the fruit is all picked by hand, chilled overnight, destemmed and then density-sorted. Each parcel is vinified separately, with most fermented in the concrete tanks that have been used since the 1950s, however the oldest Cabernet Franc is fermented in a 600-litre new oak barrel. She only uses indigenous yeast so fermentations are slow, at least 10 days generally. Maceration times are long, with the wine normally spending around 40, and up to 50 days on the skins, depending on the vintage, but with very gentle extraction. Malolactic fermentation can be challenging with the low pH, so she routinely has to inoculate to force this through (malolactic is essential for wine stability, particularly for wine intended for long ageing).  The portion of new oak has been toned down, with Marcenat ageing the wine for a year in around 70% new oak, with the rest in second-fill barrels (and occasionally some concrete if required). It is then blended together and aged in concrete for around six months prior to bottling without filtration. The oak is all 228-litre Burgundian barrels (versus Bordeaux’s traditional 225 litres), largely Tronçais oak from the cooper Taransaud. Marcenat feels Burgundian barrels pair better with the wine, liking the thicker staves and longer seasoning (30 months versus the 24 that is the norm for Bordeaux).  The Clos de Sarpe wines today  Clos de Sarpe makes two wines: the eponymous Grand Vin and a second wine, Charles de Sarpe, which was introduced in 1997, named after Charles Beyney – Jean-Guy’s son and Marcenat’s cousin. Up to and including the 2015 vintage, the second wine was a saignée of the Grand Vin, used to increase the concentration of the Grand Vin. Since then, it has only been made in certain vintages when there is enough fruit to make a second wine – such as 2019 and 2023.  While most producers will talk about the freshness in their wines coming from the Cabernet Franc, for Marcenat it is the Merlot that brings the acidity, while the Cabernet Franc provides the wine’s structure.  Tasting Clos de Sarpe back to the 1960s, the site’s freshness shines through consistently, as well as a distinctive earthy minerality. The purity of a wine like the 1966 is extraordinary – and it’s holding up beautifully today. You can still see traces of the immense structure the 1975 and 1988 must have had in their youth – providing a gentle grip today alongside their savoury intensity. While the wines were significantly more powerful in style in the late 1990s and 2000s, that power feels balanced today, the 100% new oak integrated and unobtrusive – and the 2001 a particular standout. The 2010 and 2015 vintages of Charles de Sarpe are beautiful wines, with a softer feel and elegance – juice that would be worthy of many Grands Vins.   These wines might once have been known for their power and punch, but Marcenat has tweaked the style, leaning into the natural freshness of the site. She looks for silky tannins and a purity that makes the wines more approachable in youth. It is, she will tell you, very simply the wine she likes and wants to make. Tasting the wines en primeur since she took over suggests that only good things lie ahead here. With each vintage, Marcenat’s imprint on the wines feels clearer and quality belies the growing season’s conditions, testament to both her talent and the terroir.  A note on the Clos de Sarpe labels  As you can see in the line-up for this tasting (below), the labels have changed over the years. The oldest wines made under Yvan Beyney bear a very traditional label, which changed in 1986 to have a blue border when Jean-Guy (Marcenat’s uncle) took over. When the style of wine shifted in the 1990s, Jean-Guy changed the label again (from the 1998 vintage) to one with a gold foil border. The current label was introduced in 2012 when the property achieved Grand Cru Classé status.   The vertical tasting: Clos de Sarpe 1966-2015  2015 Charles de Sarpe: Maylis Marcenat recalls the 2015 harvest vividly – as it took place around the same time that she gave birth to her twin daughters. It was the last vintage in which the second wine was produced as a saignée of the Grand Vin, echoing its proportions of 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet Franc, and effectively a less powerful version, aged in 50% new oak and 50% one-year-old oak. The wine is still lithe and vibrant, offering bright red berries on the nose. The palate displays more savoury tones, with macerated red plum and a fine chalky coating of tannins, cut by bright acidity that drives through to a mouthwatering finish. This is in a beautiful spot now.   2015 Clos de Sarpe: The typical blend of 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet Franc (as with every vintage shown in this vertical), the 2015 Clos de Sarpe was aged in 100% new oak. As you might guess from the élevage and the power of the vintage, this is not a shy and retiring wine – yet Clos de Sarpe’s trademark acidity drives through its core and balances the wine’s intensity. It still feels youthful, packed with dark cherry fruit on the compact nose, that gradually offers sweeter, scented tones with time in the glass. There’s a solidity to the palate – with a mass of rich, concentrated fruit, yet there’s a juiciness here to that makes it mouthwatering, with a sweet plumpness. It’s round and full, with a firm grip of tannin on the finish. Decant to enjoy now, with plenty of air, but this will unfurl over the next decade and beyond.  2010 Charles de Sarpe: The 2010 vintage was the first in which the fruit was all destemmed at Clos de Sarpe. Tasting the second wine with winemaker Maylis Marcenat, she can’t help but wonder why her uncle didn’t put such gorgeous juice into the Grand Vin. It’s a supple, beautiful example of mature Saint-Emilion now – the nose subtle, shifting between sweet fruit, lifted florals and black truffle complexity. The palate is long and balanced, beautifully resolved, seamless and soft, still with mouthwatering freshness and an earthy mineral edge to the long finish. Lovely.  2001 Clos de Sarpe: This was a standout in our vertical – and a wine that holds a special place for Marcenat. As she told us, “For me, it’s better than 2000 – with more freshness, more balance, more everything.” The 100% new oak is integrated, with the nose now showing plenty of tertiary complexity: iron, sousbois and a subtle leafiness mingles with the still fresh, soft strawberry fruit. There’s a transparency here, yet still plenty of concentration – the palate still lithe with soft, plummy red fruit and high juicy acidity that supports the fruit and fills the long finish, complemented by an earthy note. Superb.  1998 Clos de Sarpe: This was one of the first vintages to be aged in oak, seeing 80% new wood for its élevage. It was a great vintage for the Right Bank – as is clear from this wine. The 1998 Clos de Sarpe is beautifully mature, with savoury, leathery aromas and darker bramble fruit versus the more red-fruited 2001 shown alongside. The palate has a savoury iron seam, the tannins still offering a satisfying chewy grip to frame the juicy hedgerow fruit. This blossomed in the glass, revealing further complexity and vibrancy. Long, balanced and very impressive.  1988 Clos de Sarpe: The 1988 vintage offered few challenges and is a fairly classic year. It comes from the era when Clos de Sarpe was all whole-bunch fermented and saw no oak (aged only in concrete) – as with the two vintages below. There was a slight mustiness to this wine at first, but gradually the wine revealed its true character, with sweet, dried fruit and intense, savoury notes – an umami richness reminiscent of marmite. There is still surprising structure and power here, although the wine isn’t quite as concentrated as the 1998, for example. The acidity keeps things fresh, with the scent of truffle and undergrowth lingering on the finish.  1975 Clos de Sarpe: This was recorked in 2020. The 1975 vintage produced some particularly tannic wines – and you can still feel the structure of the year here, with a phenolic grip that frames the palate. The nose is intensely savoury, appealing to lovers of old-school Bordeaux with barnyard and horse leather, gradually revealing a herbal lift – something almost menthol-like. Although this is firmly tertiary in profile, there’s still vibrancy to the palate, with soft waves of fruit and an iron-edged finish.  1966 Clos de Sarpe: Some older vintages of Clos de Sarpe spent extended periods of time in tank before bottling – as is the case with this 1966, which stayed in concrete for almost 10 years. It was recorked in 2019 and is an amazing wine that is singing today. The nose still offers surprising fruit purity – soft, cooked plum and deeper bramble fruit, as well as savoury sousbois and – with time in the glass – liquorice and an almost marmite intensity. It’s ripe and vibrant, with amazing freshness on the palate, the tannins are seamlessly integrated with the sweet fruit. Long, supple and balanced, a beautiful wine to drink now.     Explore all current listings of Clos de Sarpe or read more about Bordeaux 

Tasting through six decades of Ch. Clos de Sarpe 

Six decades of Clos de Sarpe 

Bordeaux is incredibly varied – with hugely different styles of wine produced across its appellations. Here, we run through everything you really need to know about each of the main subregions – and the best estates in each  

Explore Bordeaux, subregions, their wines and top estates – in Saint-Estephe, Pauillac, Saint-Julien, Margaux, Graves, Pessac-Leognan, Pomerol, Saint-Emilion 

Your guide to Bordeaux’s subregions, wines and top producers

Your guide to Bordeaux’s subregions   

Honeysuckle, peach, jasmine. Ripe, perfumed and exotic, viscous and heady – but, at its best, with a mineral, saline line and phenolic grip that keeps its hedonism in check. Condrieu is a wine like no other – and one that couldn’t be much less fashionable if it tried.  And yet, its top bottlings are incredibly hard to find. The likes of Georges Vernay’s Coteau de Vernon or Guigal’s La Doriane fly out on release. Chapoutier’s Coteau de Chery is absorbed effortlessly by France’s finest restaurant wine lists. The iconic Château-Grillet has almost vanished from the world of retail since it was taken over by Artémis. Production might be limited – but it’s also clear that there’s more than enough demand for these very special wines from the Northern Rhône.  The appellation and its unique expression of the Viognier grape has a rocky history. The Romans were the first to cultivate vines in this corner of the Rhône Valley – and they’ve been there ever since. By the 17th century, the wines from the steep slopes around the village of Condrieu were renowned throughout France. In 1853, there were 143 hectares of vines in the region – but then plague and pest arrived: powdery mildew swept through the vines, swiftly followed by phylloxera, decimating vineyards across Europe. With two World Wars, as well as the industrialisation of the valley, the workforce fled the vines for more stable, salaried factory work: looking up at the back-breaking angle of its slopes, entirely unmechanisable, it’s easy to see why the region’s vineyards were almost entirely abandoned. When the Condrieu Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) was created in 1940 (encompassing the villages of Condrieu, Vérin and Saint-Michel-sur-Rhône), just six hectares of vines remained.  Only eight of the potential 170 hectares were planted in the 1960s and Condrieu’s future looked uncertain. But one vigneron was quietly working to change that.  Georges Vernay – whose father Francis Vernay had helped create the appellation after planting his family’s first vines on the Coteau de Vernon in 1937 – believed in the alchemy between Condrieu’s biotite granite slopes and the Viognier grape. At the time, the region was best-known for its stone-fruit – with a kilo of peaches worth significantly more than a kilo of grapes. (The area is still known for its fruit today, Jean-Marc Roulot sources the apricots for his eau de vie and liqueur from the Rhône.) When Georges Vernay uprooted orchards to plant Viognier, people called him a fool.  “No one believed in Condrieu anymore, or in Viognier anymore,” Philippe Guigal – the winemaker and third-generation at the helm of his family’s company – tells me. Philippe’s father Marcel was another pioneer of the region, persisting in making fine wine from the region’s uneconomically steep terraces.  Vernay kept his faith too – championing Condrieu, but also Viognier. Almost all the Viognier in the world was planted in Condrieu at the time, and Vernay supplied cuttings to those outside the region – encouraging others to plant this distinctive grape. At the same time, he championed the region with his age-worthy wines, especially the now-iconic Coteau de Vernon.  By 1986 there were still only 19 hectares of Condrieu planted, but Vernay’s battle started paying off – wine-lovers fell for Condrieu’s rich, textural whites and plantings rocketed. There were 38 hectares of vines by 1992 and 217 by 2024. But it wasn’t just in the Rhône that Viognier finally found its footing – plantings appeared in the Ardèche, the Languedoc, Australia, California (especially with the wave of Rhône Rangers, led by Randall Grahm) and beyond. Viognier’s lustre had been restored.  Although now much more widely planted, it’s only in Condrieu that Viognier reaches such heights. Here, on steep terraced slopes in this hallowed corner of the Rhône, the vines sit almost directly on the granite bedrock – a specific type of granite laced with biotite, an iron-rich black mica. It’s this biotite granite that defined the original Condrieu appellation created in 1940 – encompassing vineyards around the villages of Condrieu, Vérin and Saint-Michel-sur-Rhône. The monopole appellation Château-Grillet (sadly unable to comment for this feature) sits within Condrieu, classified four years prior, and sharing the same biotite granite. The iron in the soils is key, lending much-needed tension to the potentially flabby Viognier.  Finding – and keeping – that tension is key to the best Condrieu. And it isn’t about acidity per se, but a sense of freshness.   For Emma Amsellem – who works alongside her mother Christine Vernay at Domaine Georges Vernay, “It’s a combination of different things.” She attributes much to their farming (which is both organic and biodynamic), as well as working with old vines and low yields (normally around 27-30hl/ha). Maxime Chapoutier – who works alongside his larger-than-life father Michel Chapoutier at the eponymous empire – echoes how important vine age is for Viognier, much more so than Syrah or Marsanne, he says. He finds Viognier starts to produce fruit of significantly more complexity at 20-30 years of age, but the vines can also lose interest if they’re too old.   “The beauty of the balance of Viognier comes from its dry extract – from its bitterness,” he explained. It is, Chapoutier says, the hardest grape to pick – harvest too early and you won’t have the necessary dry extract, but harvest too late and the aromatics are too much. Ansellem also emphasised the importance of picking date: although you want to retain as much natural acidity as possible, you also need Viognier to be sufficiently ripe – and the window is getting smaller and smaller with climate change.  The challenge, as Philippe Guigal puts it, is to keep the richness, the full expression of Viognier, as well as its drinkability and salinity. He introduced a Champenois-style cycle, very long and slow, for their Condrieu – something that helps bring out the grape’s aromatics and structure, a concept echoed by both Ansellem and Chapoutier, working with Viognier’s natural thick skins. Chapoutier also highlighted the importance of oxygenising the must and then racking as little as possible, retaining the lees to help build on the grape’s “noble bitterness”.  Guigal is also particularly careful with fermentation temperatures, feeling it is key to keep ferments under 12°C to avoid any potentially heavy aromas.  It's that dry extract that allows top Condrieu to age so beautifully too. Chapoutier explains how he likes to wait at least five years before opening their Coteau de Chery, but it can age for 25, developing more layers of complexity – with notes of honey, lanolin, gingerbread and dried citrus peel. “A great Condrieu is a wine that doesn’t taste of Viognier,” he says.  Tasting through a flight of the region’s top wines last week was fascinating – from Chapoutier’s remarkably fresh, floral Coteau de Chery to the decadent yet mineral Coteau de Vernon from Georges Vernay. More than anything was perhaps seeing the response from those tasting – the wines far surpassing their stereotypical expectations. Not all the haters left lovers, but they certainly had a newfound respect for the style; and those that were already fans fell even harder for its charms.  There’s next to no room for further plantings in Condrieu, largely thanks to Georges Vernay’s efforts championing the region, and quality in the appellation is higher than ever before. The style of its heady wines will always be divisive – and perhaps that’s a good thing given how limited production of the best wines is. Its cool credentials may not quite have caught up yet, but it’s time to open up to the region’s opulent embrace – you won’t regret it.  Top Condrieu cuvées to look out for  Chapoutier’s Coteau de Chery: From a single parcel of vines between 40 and 80 years in age, this is aged entirely in old oak (larger, 600-litre casks). Production is tiny (often only two barrels) and goes almost exclusively to restaurants in France.  Georges Vernay’s Coteau de Vernon: This is just a stone’s throw (100m or so) from Vernay’s other single-vineyard, Les Chaillés de l’Enfer (literally meaning the terraces of hell, for its steep south-facing slopes). From the region’s most famous pioneer, the vines were planted in the 1930s and 1960s, in a natural amphitheatre, producing a profound expression of Viognier that ages beautifully.  Guigal’s La Doriane: Guigal’s top Condrieu is a blend of their top five parcels across the appellation, averaging 35 years in age, matured in 100% new oak – which is seamlessly integrated with the concentrated and powerful fruit.  Château-Grillet: The tiny monopole appellation covers 3.5 hectares of vines. Owned by the Artémis group (owners of Ch. Latour) since 2011, its wines are some of the most sought-after in the world, largely disappearing into wine lists.  Yves Gangloff’s Condrieu: Renowned for its voluptuous style, in all the best ways, this bottling from this famous winemaker is rightfully prized.  André Perret’s Chéry: Known also for their Clos Chanson cuvée, Chéry also comes from the Coteau de Chery, from a three-hectare plot of 70-year-old vines.  Ogier’s Les Vieilles Vignes de Jacques Vernay: Only 125 cases are made of this wine per year, making it incredibly hard to find.  Marie & Pierre Benetière’s Condrieu: Possibly even harder to find than their astounding Côte-Rôties, Pierre was inspired by and studied under Vernay before making his own wines.   Explore all current listings of Condrieu or read more Editorial 

The epitome of Viognier, Condrieu makes some of the world’s most remarkable wines – yet this appellation in the Northern Rhône came close to disappearing. Sophie Thorpe dives into its brush with fate and how producers manage Viognier’s natural hedonism to create wines that stand the test of time 

Condrieu’s wines are better than ever. We talk to Georges Vernay, Guigal and Chapoutier about the appellation’s comeback 

Condrieu’s comeback with Vernay, Guigal and Chapoutier 

Condrieu’s comeback 

Our team spent several weeks exploring the 2023 vintage in Burgundy – visiting, tasting and talking to a range of producers up and down the Côte d’Or. Here, we offer a run-down of the year by producer, from north to south, reporting on how each fared and our pick of their range this year

A run-down of the Burgundy 2023 vintage wines en primeur by producer: from Fourrier to Lafon via Bernstein, Lamarche, Lambrays, Duroche and Hudelot-Noellat 

Burgundy 2023 vintage by producer 

Burgundy 2023: by producer

I’m sitting opposite Rino Fontana, an Italian wine collector that Antonio Galloni named his Wine Personality of the Year in 2023. Fontana looks unassuming – like any other septuagenarian that you might find, cigarette in hand, knocking back an espresso in a sunny piazza. Sunglasses hang on a string around his neck, and occasionally he rifles through scraps of paper that seem to operate as a calendar and/or journal. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was perhaps someone a little more, well, suave. Fontana has been collecting wine since the 1980s and is renowned for his cellar, a treasure trove of remarkable vintages from Piedmont’s top producers. Indeed, Galloni has dubbed him “Il Professore” for his extensive knowledge of Italian wine – despite never having worked in the industry. As Fontana scrolls through pictures on his phone, recalling recent dinners, he rolls off names and vintages that would leave any wine-lover speechless. He grew up in the Oltrepò Pavese, where his father was a stonemason, but would buy grapes and make a little wine for the family. Fontana was sent to school in Valenza, a town known for its gold industry – and he started working in a gold factory in his late teens. Aged 24, he and his best friend opened their own jewellery workshop. It was the owner of a local restaurant in nearby Mortara who introduced Fontana to the real pleasures of wine, and a bottle of Conterno’s Monfortino that made him fall head over heels for Nebbiolo – the 1958 vintage, in fact. Since that first taste, he’s opened over 150 bottles (yes, really) of the 1958 Monfortino. It was that wine that prompted Fontana to start visiting producers – an adventure in self-education. At the time, people weren’t buying wine, and Italy’s winemakers were far from fashionable. He became friends with the likes of Giuseppe Rinaldi, Bruno Giacosa and Gianfranco Soldera, rapidly securing significant allocations of their wines when few others were showing interest. Producers, in turn, suggested he had a gift – unique in his ability to understand wines in barrel and foretell their future. Today, he covers around 80,000km a year visiting producers – but the vast majority of that mileage is in Piedmont, for Fontana drinks – and collects – little other than Nebbiolo. This one grape represents around 95% of his consumption, he says, with Barolo and/or Barbaresco on the menu every day. He always has the latest releases on hand in the fridge – even some basic Langhe Nebbiolo, but at least twice a week he’ll uncork something special from the 1960s or ’80s with wine-loving friends or producers. While Nebbiolo is one of many grapes to be declared “the king of wines”, for Fontana it really does reign supreme. When I ask why, marvelling at how he could drink so much of just one variety, he shrugs: “Nebbiolo is Nebbiolo.” When I push him, he says he loves its ageability, structure and elegance – something he feels you can’t find in Pinot Noir. He recalls a recent dinner with Galloni at Il Centro in Priocca, sharing a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti’s 2004 La Tâche alongside a 1947 Borgogno Barolo and 1989 Vigna Rionda from Giacosa. Both the Barolos, he says, grew over the dinner – while the La Tâche faded slowly. For him, Burgundy (even the world’s most sought-after bottles) is no match for Nebbiolo. That’s a controversial opinion – but Fontana is not a man short of views. He dismisses the wines of Cappellano and Accomasso, while he has firm beliefs on how Nebbiolo should be made, favouring traditional winemaking with old oak – not wanting to feel the wood in the wine. He argues that too many young producers are going to Burgundy and trying to echo that style in their wines, losing their Piedmontese identity. The resulting wines are, he feels, too technical, too clean. “Great wine can’t be perfect,” he says – suggesting that those imperfections are partly what makes wine feel alive. While the most established and famous producers dominate his collection, he also likes the wines from newer names such as Trediberri, Crissante and Cascina Baricchi. Beyond Nebbiolo, he’ll dabble in certain labels of Sangiovese – Soldera, for example will pass muster, as well as SanCarlo (a producer he feels rivals the former). Montevertine’s Le Pergole Torte would previously have been a prime choice, but now he’d choose Le Boncie’s Le Trame instead. He likes Valentini and Emidio Pepe, and used to buy Gravner but feels the style changed in 2004 so stopped. He sold his jewellery business in 2000 – dedicating his time entirely to wine – visiting producers, building his collection and selling to select parties (of which FINE+RARE is lucky enough to be one). Fontana has around 9,000 bottles in his collection today. He shows us a video of his cellar – intriguingly with many of the wines stored upright. Anything post 1990 is kept on its side, but older wines stand proud in his cellar – something which he argues is better once they reach a certain age, with the cork and humidity of the cellar more important in their preservation. It’s a remarkable collection, with incredible verticals of many wines. His access seems unparalleled – receiving larger allocations than many importers, given his historical ties. He is the only individual, for example, to receive an allocation of Rinaldi’s Brunate Cru – a wine that is otherwise kept exclusively for the family. Some of his most prized bottles are Giacosa’s 1964 Santo Stefano and magnums of 1970 Monfortino (“amazing” – he says), while he has a soft spot for the youthful 2015 Soldera. Now aged 73, Fontana seems just as enchanted by wine as when he first tasted that 1958 Monfortino. I ask him if there’s a wine he is still desperate to taste, a unicorn that he’s still hunting: the answer is no. He’s been able to try every vintage from the producers he loves. It’s a rare answer for a wine lover – but “Il Professore” isn’t your average wine collector. – Photography of Rino Fontana at Il Centro by Dan Deibel Explore a selection of top verticals from Fontana’s cellar, all Italian listings or read more Editorial

Friends with Vinous founder and critic Antonio Galloni, and with a cellar that will turn you green with envy, Rino Fontana is Italy’s most famous wine collector. We sat down with the man himself to find out more about his journey into wine, incredible collection and obsession with one grape  

Antonio Galloni’s Wine Personality of the Year 2023, Rino Fontana is Italy’s most famous wine collector – we met the man to talk about his cellar

Rino Fontana – the wine collector like no other

Rino Fontana: a collector like no other

Making Champagne is different. More than any other wine, it’s a long-term game. The region’s cellar masters don’t see the fruits of their labour for years, even decades, depending on the wine; their work closer to that of a master distiller rather than most winemakers.  “It humbles you – you are not the superstar. The superstar is definitely the Champagne,” Elise Losfelt – who took over as Cellar Master at Champagne Charles Heidsieck earlier this year – tells me. She has just done her first blends for the prestigious House, with wines selected by her predecessor, Cyril Brun – and those blends won’t be tasted by the rest of the world for as long as eight years, when it comes to the vintage wine.   With three young children (aged three, four and six), Losfelt’s home life is very much about the here and now, but the world of Champagne gives her the chance to slow down; “Putting myself in a timeline – not just in today,” she explains. Losfelt has big shoes to fill, following in the footsteps of Brun, who arrived at Charles Heidsieck in 2015 and helped steer the House into a new, more prosperous era, including the re-introduction of the property’s Champagne Charlie cuvée. He has since caused a stir in the world of sparkling wine by being the first Champenois ex-pat to move to Italy, taking on a new role at Ferrari (one of the top names in Trento DOC).  Similarly to Brun (who came from Veuve Clicquot), Losfelt arrives from one of the Moët Hennessy properties, Moët & Chandon. Also like Brun, wine runs in her blood – she’s the seventh generation to make wine, with her mother at the helm of the family estate, Ch. de l’Engarran in the Languedoc.   Losfelt spent over a decade at Moët & Chandon, a business which became “a place that feels like family”; but when the phone rang and it was a job offer from Charles Heidsieck… “I had to grab it,” she tells me. Not only has she always loved the Charles Heidsieck Champagnes, but it was over a glass of 1995 Blanc des Millénaires that she and her husband first connected, back in 2014.  For the majority of her time at Moët & Chandon she was the Head of Vinfication, preparing the wines for the cellar master, responsible for much of the winemaking – almost everything but the final blend. It was the scientific side of winemaking that had attracted her originally, but the lure of this unexplored artistic side of the job, combined with her emotional tie to the wines, made the opportunity impossible to resist. It was, as she told me, time to leave her “first family” to take on a new challenge.   For her, Charles Heidsieck stands apart from others for its endless complexity. “It’s a Champagne that doesn’t offer you just one facet, doesn’t offer you just one aroma, or just one characteristic of aromas… it’s everything together,” she explains. While the brief for something like Moët Impérial is to craft a consistent and fresh, vibrant wine, her brief at Charles Heidsieck is for “profoundness”. Even at the non-vintage level, she is looking for wine that would meet many Houses’ vintage standards; the aim is to consistently exceed quality expectations.  Talking about trends in the region today, I enquired whether there were any plans for Charles Heidsieck to follow in the footsteps of Louis Roederer, Krug or Jacquesson – creating numbered non-vintage releases, highlighting the base vintage and variation between years, rather than the consistency historically seen as desirable. There are no plans for imminent changes, but the House has – since the 1990s, under Chef de Cave Daniel Thibaut – had the “mis en cave” date, the year in which the bottle was laid down in the cellar for secondary fermentation to get underway. As for adding tirage or disgorgement dates: “This is a question for me in five years,” Losfelt says, with an unrushed shrug.  For this new Chef de Cave, it is only the beginning – with much to learn, test and try before any changes are made. Losfelt’s job is a little like the now-famous Patek Philippe advert, she tells me; she’s just keeping the seat warm for the next generation, inheriting the work of her predecessors and creating the tools for those that will follow her. As she tells me, “Every step of the way, one choice makes a difference.”  As we await the first releases bearing her fingerprint, there’s no doubt she’ll be working tirelessly to preserve and further Charles Heidsieck’s legacy. “Until it’s tasted, and it's good, I will not rest,” she says, a clear sense of responsibility for the weight on her shoulders. We, like Losfelt, will just have to wait and see.   Explore all current Charles Heidsieck listings, or read more about Champagne

Earlier this year, Champagne Charles Heidsieck announced that Elise Losfelt would be replacing Cyril Brun as Chef de Cave. We sat down with her to talk about her journey and why patience is most certainly a virtue when it comes to crafting fine Champagne

We spoke to Elise Losfelt, the newly crowned Chef de Cave for Champagne Charles Heidsieck, about why patience is a virtue when it comes to making Champagne

Talking to Charles Heidsieck’s Elise Losfelt

A waiting game: Champagne Charles Heidsieck

“It’s difficult when you don’t have vines, a winery, any equipment or money,” Stéphane Dief – co-owner and winemaker at Clos Manou – tells me. “You say you want to be a winemaker, but it is complicated. Our advantage, however, was being able to do exactly what we wanted.” Over the last 25 years, he and his wife Françoise have slowly grown their tiny estate in the northern reaches of the Médoc, beyond Saint-Estèphe, where they make wine that offers some of the best value in the region.  Saint-Christoly-Médoc – the miniscule village that is home to their domaine – is where Stéphane grew up, while Françoise is from less than 15km away. Although Françoise’s family had vines, neither she nor Stéphane were working in the production side of the business, but they fell in love with wine. Via his brothers-in-law – who worked at Ch. Mouton Rothschild and Ch. Rauzan-Sègla – Stéphane started tasting some special wines, buying older vintages at auction – and was soon determined to give it a go himself.  Together, the couple bought a mere 12 ares and produced their first vintage in 1998, 600 bottles that they labelled as Clos Manou – “Clos” because they felt it wasn’t grand enough to use “Château”, and “Manou”, Stéphane’s nickname. It was such a success that their hobby rapidly became a full-time gig and the duo left their day jobs in 2000.  In some ways it doesn’t sound like they were doing anything remarkable. They wanted to make attractive wines that reflected their site, and to do so with precision and care. Their ambitions were modest. And yet, for Bordeaux, their small-scale, hand-crafted approach was – and is – atypical.  They sought out specific parcels of old vines, those planted before clonal material became commonplace, favouring the natural complexity of massal selection. They chose to work only with high-density vineyards – around 10,000 vines per hectare, a point at which Stéphane feels the vines self-regulate, meaning there’s no need to green harvest and often less de-leafing required.  In principle, they are close to organic – however, in a bid to avoid dependency on copper, they use bio-controls that aren’t permitted under organics, specifically phosphonic acid. They don’t use any herbicides, insecticides or chemicals – but believe that copper, as a heavy metal that kills soil’s microbiome, is best used minimally, and they prefer to use something that doesn’t leave trace levels in the final wine.   Almost everything is done by hand, with 12 full-time employees working on the estate. There are no protocols or routines. “We do things by watching, observing our vines and drawing conclusions and echoing those conclusions the following year,” Stéphane says.  The 2003 vintage was a turning point. Robert Parker gave the wine 93 points – an incredible score for such a modest Médoc, writing that it was “better than many of the vintage’s ‘big’ names”, “drop-dead-gorgeous” and a “prodigious effort”. Given the critic was at his peak, his influence was significant – and suddenly Clos Manou was in enormous demand.  “C’est notre métier, mais notre passion aussi," Stéphane says – “It’s our profession, but it’s our passion too." That explains perhaps why, for 11 years, he didn’t take a day off. “My wife wasn’t very happy with me,” Stéphane tells me, laughing cheekily.   Today they have 18.5 hectares of vines, scattered between Saint-Christoly-Médoc and Couquèques, all within a three-kilometre radius. They sit across three different soil types – gravel over clay, limestone-clay and sand, with some sitting very close to the estuary itself. Stéphane thinks of them as three children – one of which, the gravel over clay, is naturally gifted. But just because the other two need a bit more work, doesn’t mean they are any lesser. There is, he says, no such thing as “un petit terroir”. One special parcel dates back to 1850. Planted before phylloxera swept through the region, it’s managed to survive thanks to its sandy soils. In certain vintages they make a special “Cuvée 1850” from the block.  Despite the vines averaging 45 years in age, the yields are generally good – sitting at around 50hl/ha. Stéphane emphasises that low yields don’t equate to better quality, necessarily – the balance of your vines is what matters most.  It’s undeniable that climate change has been a benefit here, beyond Saint-Estèphe, where once it was a struggle to ripen fruit. In 2018, Clos Manou had 15% alcohol – but, thanks to their clay soils, the pH was a vibrant 3.52, bringing great freshness to balance the wine. He’s still thinking about the long-term impact of the rising mercury, however, and experimenting with small portions of whole-bunch, inspired by the likes of Guillaume Pouthier at Les Carmes Haut-Brion. Stéphane feels that it can add tension and make the wines feel more dynamic, even on just 5% of the blend. “On est des vrais vignerons – comme il y a en Bourgogne," Stéphane tells me ("We are true vignerons – as there are in Burgundy"). Unlike larger properties where there are various directors who influence decisions – it’s just them deciding what to do. Despite looking further afield for their inspiration, he and Françoise don’t want to go against the grain of the region. “We want to be a bit unorthodox, but we are nevertheless Bordelais,” he says.  Clos Manou is, in essence, a family business. There’s nothing remarkable about their modest ways, but their freedom to start with a blank page has allowed them to create something that is no longer the norm. Inspired by the Bordeaux of yesteryear, everything is low-tech yet done with great precision. The wines are fresh and pure, yet distinctly savoury and earthy – with a natural intensity that points to their old vines. You can see the addition of larger oak and amphorae in more recent vintages, bringing more vibrancy. They are somehow rustic yet fine. Little has changed here since 1998; let’s hope that that remains the case, and the Dief family continue to craft humble expressions of Bordeaux that are very much extraordinary.  Browse all listings of Clos Manou or read more about Bordeaux 

At first glance, Clos Manou might seem run-of-the-mill. But this small estate in the Médoc is far from it. We sat down with Stéphane Dief to talk about how a hobby became his life, the freedom of a fresh start, and why his family’s wines are worth seeking out

We talk to Stephane Dief about his family estate in the Medoc, Clos Manou – one of Bordeaux’s best-value wines and best-kept secrets

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