Since he started making wine under his own name in 2000, Eben Sadie became a cult name in South Africa. The Swartland producer is best known for his flagship Columella and Palladius, but he also makes a range of whites and reds under the Old Vine Series, which became the District Series in 2025. 

The Sadie Family Wines 

Explore the pioneering wines of Eben Sadie – Sadie Family Wines based in South Africa’s Swartland, including Columella and Palladius

Discover Sadie Family Wines, Swartland, South Africa 

The Sadie Family Wines  

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 

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 

Tasting through six decades of Ch. Clos de Sarpe 

Six decades of Clos de Sarpe 

Walking into the cooperage at Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte is like stepping back in time, filled with the smell of seasoned wood, an open fire and the same tools that barrel-makers have used for centuries. Few estates have the luxury of an in-house cooper. While producers inevitably work closely with the tonnelleries (barrel-making firms, such as François Frères, Stockinger and more), having an artisan on-site, working alongside the winemaking team to craft casks exclusively for your specific terroir is different. “It’s very important for the precision of the wine,” explains Cellar Master Yann Laudeho.  Florence and Daniel Cathiard, owners of the Pessac-Léognan estate, built a cooperage on-site almost 30 years ago, in 1995, and their current cooper, Yann Dez, has been working here since 2021. The Bordeaux native’s father was a metal worker, and Dez fell into the world of barrel-making entirely by accident – having a friend who was a tonnelier, and a job opening at an opportune moment. Before he knew it, Dez had learnt the trade from some of the best coopers in the country (including one who now makes the barrels at Ch. Margaux), and spending 15 years working under Didier Fesil. Fesil was the Cathiard family’s first cooper back in 1995, who went on to create his own small tonnellerie (Tonnellerie Bordelaise), and has been named the nation’s best “Master Cooper” – twice. Indeed, Fesil is still very involved with the estate, helping choose the wood for barrels and advising on all things oak; and it was Fesil who put Dez forward for the role at Smith Haut Lafitte.  “There are no books,” Dez says, when I ask about the art of barrel-making. “It’s passed on from tonnelier to tonnelier." The first evidence of coopering as a trade dates back to 900BC – with the craft passed down the generations ever since. “I continue the tradition,” Dez says, clearly with a sense of pride in this ancient, artisanal skill. But with the dust, noise and physical labour involved, tonnellerie schools, Dez tells me, are struggling to recruit young people. It’s common for coopers to have issues with their shoulders and ears (from the non-stop hammering) – and Dez himself has broken an elbow.  In theory, the process can be mechanised – but Dez is clear on how important it is to work by hand, and not just to preserve this ancient art. “I hear the nose, I feel the resistance,” he says. Each barrel, he explains, is different – with a slightly different number of staves and slightly different shape, all adapted according to the wood he’s working with. Selecting the right wood is key – “reading” it, he explains, looking at the grain to see where potential weaknesses are, understanding where will take the most pressure and placing each stave accordingly, ensuring not a drop can seep from the finished barrel. “It’s a job that is both physical, and at the same time requires thinking,” says Dez – and this combination is much of its allure for him.  Hearing the way Dez talks about barrels is fascinating; for him, they each have a unique personality. When I ask Dez how he knows he’s made a really good barrel, he shrugs: “On le sent.” (“You feel it.”) As you toast a barrel, he tells me, the scent of the smoke changes, releasing different aromas – something I smell as he works in front of me. Knowing when it’s spent the perfect amount of time over the fire is the secret – and it’s about more than just the smell, it’s a gut instinct that he can’t quite explain.  Smith Haut Lafitte sources oak from a range of forests, and are always trialling wood from different forests, toasts and doing blind tastings, although – after over 25 years – they know what works for their wine, and terroir. Cellar Master Laudeho explains that, for him, Tronçais and Jupilles are the best – “diamonds” that flawlessly complement their site. And that balance is key; the wood works for the wine, not the other way around.  It seems like a lonely job, I comment, hammering away in his tower – but it’s not something that bothers him. “I’m a bit of a perfectionist,” he tells me. Having only himself to depend on, and knowing that he can ensure each barrel meets his exacting standards, suits him. Indeed, he doesn’t even settle for standard tools – making most himself, custom-designed to suit the way he works. He talks me through a specific hammer that he made, and how it allows him to work better and more precisely, the wooden handle almost silken from the hours of use, shaped to his hand.   The lone electronic technology to have earned a place here are noise-cancelling headphones and a Marshall speaker. He’s a musician in his spare time, and an additional perk of working alone is that he gets to spend all day listening to music. “All the barrels I’ve made,” he says, “are made with music.” He avoids anything too modern or electronic, favouring old jazz, with some reggae, ska jazz and funk in the mix, depending on the day. While he doesn’t feel the music he listens to influences his coopering, he suspects his mood does – and music is a big part of that.  Woodwork is much more than a job for Dez. I spy a beautiful chest alongside his speaker, and it’s one that he made. He has a workshop at home too, spending his free time making everything from guitar stands and toys to chandeliers – anything, he says, that isn’t straight, and therefore can’t really be done by a machine.  It’s amazing watching him work – in the same way as coopers have for centuries – with a natural intuition, ease and precision. There’s definitely something musical to it, a craft that has its own rhythm. He makes around 300 barrels a year, and they may not be soloists – but each one contributes their own note to that year’s symphony.  Explore all current listings of Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte or read more about Bordeaux 

Wooden barrels line most of the finest wine cellars around the world – and many are made by hand. Continuing our series taking you behind the scenes in Bordeaux, we ducked into the cooperage at Smith Haut Lafitte to find out more about this special craft

We visited Pessac-Leognan’s Smith Haut Lafitte to talk to the wine estate’s master cooper, Yann Dez – and find out all about the art of barrel-making

Meeting Smith Haut Lafitte’s Master Cooper

Working to the beat: Smith Haut Lafitte’s Master Cooper

Transitioning from the world of fine cashmere to viticulture might not seem an obvious move – and yet, for Brunello Cucinelli, wine is another arena to which he can bring new “dignity”.  Cucinelli is a man of humble origins, born in a small Umbrian village in 1953. His family were share-croppers but moved to the city in search of better employment, with his father taking a job at a cement factory. Cucinelli saw his father struggle to make a living, and do so with little respect from those around him – a battle which has defined his work and philosophy.  Despite training as a building surveyor, then studying engineering, Cucinelli ended up working as a showroom model for Ellesse in his early 20s while his girlfriend (and future wife) ran a small boutique. Inspired by this window into the fashion world and the brightly coloured clothes of Benetton, he decided to make a line of similarly vivid cashmere jumpers, launching in 1978, aged 25. Since then, the business has evolved – with muted, neutral tones replacing the lively colours that gave him his break. His clothes are defined by their understatement, the epitome of “quiet luxury”.  Today, the Brunello Cucinelli business is worth €6.3 billion. There is more to Brunello Cucinelli than fine fashion, however, with 20% of the personal profits channelled back into Cucinelli’s charitable foundation. He operates under a philosophy he defines as “humanistic capitalism”, wanting to offer his employees the respect his father didn’t receive and reclaim the value of crafts that might once have been deemed “blue collar”.  A huge part of this is his work in Solomeo, the village that he calls home (and where his wife, Federica, was born). The couple got married there in 1982, making it the company’s headquarters in 1985. Since then, Cucinelli has invested significantly in the tiny, hilltop hamlet, gradually restoring it, and adding his own cultural flourishes – a School of Arts & Crafts, Forum of the Arts, Aurelian Neohumanistic Academy, theatre, amphitheatre, library and more. Over the last 30 years, he has – working with architect Massimo de Vico – transformed the village.  Castello di Solomeo, the winery and vineyard, is the latest addition – but one that has been over a decade in the making. Michele Baiocco – who has been leading the project’s team since 2010 – met Cucinelli playing football. He’d been making wine in Perugia, and the two men met for dinner. Cucinelli asked him if he’d help him “give the agriculture world a new dignity”, and they decided to create a Bordeaux-inspired wine. Together they found the right site for a vineyard in Solomeo, and planted the first vines in 2011.  Cucinelli had always loved Bordeaux, but with Montalcino not too far away, and a wish to make something “typical” for the region, Sangiovese was an obvious addition. Extensive studies were undertaken to create a vineyard with the right soils and exposition. But – take a look at a picture of the vineyard, with its softly curving rows of vines that flow across the property – and it’s clear that this isn’t a standard vineyard.  “The vineyard is like a painting,” says superstar winemaking consultant Riccardo Cotarella, who has been working with the team, especially on the blending process, since the 2018 vintage (the first commercial release). It is “an artist’s way to plant vines”, he explains – one that doesn’t make it any easier to work. Cucinelli’s inspiration, however, was a renaissance garden, and the fact that it forces everything to be done by hand is key to the project, emphasising the craftsmanship of making wine, as well as making a beautiful place for the team to work.   The philosophy in the vineyard is driven by “reason and good sense”, with no chemical pesticides or fertilizer, using grass cover and cover crops. It’s a complex site – with five hectares, spread across four different soil types (more clay rich, more marl, sandier and more calcareous) and divided between four varieties (Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot and Sangiovese).  Each of the 12 different blocks is vinified separately, something which they feel is key to terroir expression. They only make one wine from the site, and – as Cotarella says – “Working with Brunello [Cucinelli] always means the best quality.” Careful vineyard work is key, and the team has been reducing the production per plant, to focus the vines, encouraging complexity and concentration. Just like Cucinelli’s clothes, this is a wine intended to last.  While Cotarella consults, Pietro Grelloni is the full-time winemaker dedicated to Castello di Solomeo, working alongside Baiocco. Grelloni was born locally and worked with Baiocco, but had travelled the world making wine before returning to Perugia, when Baiocco asked if he’d like to join the Cucinelli project in 2017, just in time for the vintage. It’s clearly a special project to be involved in, but – for Grelloni – it’s the long-term view that sets it apart. “We take care about the year, but we also have to take care of the future,” he says – explaining how it is not just about the vintage that will be harvested this year, but in 100 years’ time. As Cotarella says, “It’s a very special wine, with a very special philosophy.”  Castello di Solomeo is exclusively available from FINE+RARE. The second vintage, 2019, is set to be released this week.

Read anything about Brunello Cucinelli and “dignity” is a word that comes up time and again, woven into the very fabric of the empire he has built. As the fashion icon releases the second vintage of Castello di Solomeo, we explore the philosophy behind the project 

Exploring the cashmere king Brunello Cucinelli’s Umbrian wine project, Castello di Solomeo, and the philosophy that defines it

Made in Solomeo

Made in Solomeo: the stamp of dignity

Inspiration often strikes at unexpected moments. For Salvino Benanti, owner of the eponymous winery, it was late at night in his office at a London investment bank, when he overheard his boss on a phone call, apologising to his wife for not being home. “I heard him say, ‘Imagine one day, if this all works out, we’ll retire and move to the Mediterranean.’” Salvino recalls this moment, which became a turning point in his life: “I suddenly thought, well I could do that tomorrow.”   Salvino’s late father was Dr Giuseppe Benanti, a former pharmaceutical company owner, who himself also once pivoted mid-career to return to his small Sicilian hometown to make wine and is today widely credited with launching a winemaking renaissance in Etna that has propelled the tiny region from relative anonymity to international recognition and acclaim.  Although wine has been produced across Sicily for centuries, the area around Mount Etna where the Benanti family is from had fallen into obscurity by the 19th century, with many poorly maintained or abandoned vineyards and virtually no commercial wine production. In the early 1980s, however, Giuseppe embarked upon a decade-long research project, where he methodically studied the soil types, local indigenous grapes and microclimates. In a very short time, he came to realise the potential of his birthplace. Giuseppe hired a local oenologist named Salvo Foti in 1988, and the two joined forces to make wine. He found in Foti an equal level of passion, drive and belief in the potential of Etna. Together they crafted the first release of Benanti wine from the Etna DOC in 1990, neither likely realising that they had sparked the resurgence of a neglected wine region.  
Shaped like a backwards crescent, the DOC of Etna is anchored of course by Mount Etna, an active stratovolcano that rises nearly 11,000 feet above sea-level. Mount Etna towers over the eastern side of Sicily, breaking the skyline in dramatic fashion and creating a wine region that is distinct not only within Sicily, but the wine world at large.  Generations of eruptions have altered the soil content, creating a patchwork of soil types around the peak. The high elevation provides respite from the hot climate of lower-lying Sicily, and the vineyards on the north side are protected from the hot Sirocco wind blowing from the south. Mount Etna remains one of the world’s most active volcanoes, with eruptions, ash clouds and lava flows nearly every year, albeit very slowly and in a predictable direction, away from villages and vineyards.   Only a few decades ago, the most well-known grape in Sicily was Nero d’Avola. Often made in an accessible, full-bodied and bold style, Nero d’Avola was easy to grow, and easy to love. Frequently blended with international varieties to add colour and weight, it quickly became an international hit. Many assume the southerly latitude relegates Sicily to only wines like Nero d’Avola – dark and dense. Mount Etna tosses this logic out the window, however.   The rocky, steep vineyards of Etna have always been planted mainly to three indigenous varieties: the red grapes Nerello Mascalese and Nerello Cappuccio, and the white grape Carricante. Nerello Mascalese produces wines that are light in colour, with elevated tannins providing ample structure. The wines can be ethereal, and much like Nebbiolo and Pinot Noir, have a remarkable transparency that allows the specific location to imbue itself into the wine, with even neighbouring plots expressing themselves quite differently. With sour cherry and wild red plum notes, as well as faint tobacco, someone tasting Nerello Mascalese blind for the first time might be excused for thinking the wine was perhaps a gentler style of Nebbiolo, or alternatively a more grippy, savoury style of Pinot Noir. In many ways the variety captures the best of both. Yet, until recently, Nerello Mascalese was obscure. “It was considered to be a bulk wine. People didn’t know it that well, so we weren’t noticed at first,” Salvino explains.   Nerello Cappuccio, with its darker colour and softer tannins, has often been used as a blending partner for Nerello Mascalese, making it more approachable, though for many producers, it has fallen out of fashion as Nerello Mascalese ascends the ladder of critical opinion. Carricante, on the other hand, is a high-acid grape, with intense minerality and a slightly saline character. Described by Ian d’Agata as “potentially one of Italy’s greatest cultivars, white or red”, Carricante can thrive at high elevations and develops fascinating, almost Riesling-like petrol aromas with age.  While some viticultural generalities are true across the region – trace elements such as iron and phosphorous are uniformly high across the DOC, for example – the soils are surprisingly varied between contradas (a delineated local municipality of sorts, often borrowed by winemakers in Etna to signify which part of the DOC their wine hails from), of which there are 142. Even a change of a few hundred feet in elevation can mean a difference in depth of soil as well as soil structure.  Although to outsiders, living next door to an active volcano might seem to be a risky proposition, Salvino, like most Sicilians, doesn’t seem to be overly concerned.  The ash that often floats down from the volcano is not necessarily a bad thing, he explains, unlike the ash from wildfires. While ash from burnt wood and vegetation is highly acrid and easily taints wine with a bitter aftertaste, volcanic ash, on the other hand, is odourless and tasteless. When it falls in Etna, it hardens into flakes of pumice, Salvino explains, which crunch underfoot like breakfast cereal, but soon break down into a much finer, sandy texture, as it becomes part of the soil and terroir.  After 25 years at the helm of his winery, Giuseppe passed the torch to Salvino and his twin brother Antonio in 2012, giving them full ownership. The brothers, in many ways, led parallel lives. Born in Sicily, the two were educated abroad, and both worked as bankers in London. And, most fortunately, both were of a similar mindset when it came to the family winery. Having felt they had achieved enough in their careers, Salvino and Antonio came to a mutual decision to move back to Sicily – the lightbulb moment Salvino experienced in his office was a sentiment shared by his brother.   By the time they took over, Etna was fully on the radar of wine enthusiasts around the world, who were intrigued by the prospect of mineral-driven wines made on the side of an active volcano. The beginning was not easy, however, Salvino says, as their father was forced to step back and let his sons build their own path together. “We had a lot of confrontation and debate. My father was stubborn, and wouldn’t listen to anyone, but we had the final word. He became a loud advisor with no power,” Salvino laughingly remembers. They made tough decisions, including selling off a few vineyards and reducing the number of wines produced. “We were a bit ruthless,” he admits.  Today, the brothers act as co-general managers, overseeing the production of 250,000 bottles of wine per year, all made from the three indigenous varieties, coming from five distinct contradas in the DOC. Their white wines are made from 100% Carricante, vinified in stainless steel and never aged in oak, while the red wines are either mono-varietal, or comprised of Nerello Mascalese blended with a small amount of Nerello Cappuccio. They avoid new oak in the winery, choosing instead to age in neutral vessels where “the elegance expresses itself quite freely”, Salvino explains.  When people think of Sicily, they think of opulence, richness and power. “This is not correct,” Salvino emphasises. Though only 5% of Sicily’s wine production comes from Etna, the wines could not be more different than the rest of the island – and southern Italy for that matter. “We are about elegance, leanness, and cellar-worthiness,” he explains.  Salvino elaborates on the distinct shift in style since he and his brother assumed control. He explains that in the early days of the winery, more oak was employed and the wines were more forward. “In the 1980s, no one knew or cared about Etna, so I think my father was trying to capture the world’s attention, maybe trying to connect with Nero d’Avola drinkers.” When Salvino and Antonio took over, however, they were open-minded and “free from prejudice”: “We didn’t have a pre-formed view of anything,” he says. This allowed them to examine the wines with fresh eyes, and rather than try to emulate another region or variety’s style, they made the decision to allow the grapes and soil of Etna to speak for themselves. “We realised that what the world wanted from Etna was more pureness.” And this is something they continue to strive for. “We would like more purity, more elegance, more finesse, always,” Salvino emphasises.    In less than 40 years, the spark that Giueseppe Benanti provided ignited a revolution, one that his sons – along with a host of other winegrowers and winemakers on the island – carry on today.  Salvino feels that there is now a clear Etna identity, supported by many up-and-coming younger producers. From only a few decades ago, when his father was introducing the wines of Etna to the world, there are now over 440 producers within the Etna DOC. The appellation, however, remains a niche even within Italy, producing only 5.8 million bottles per year, making it smaller than Barolo.   And this next generation of winemakers continues to push forward. The producers in Etna recently voted unanimously to apply for DOCG status, a process which can take up to 24 months to get approval, though it seems inevitable given their region’s sharp upward trajectory. Some rules will become more stringent, such as lower mandated yields and longer ageing requirements – as Salvino puts it, “We will be forced to go down a more difficult route” – but ultimately this will only help to continue to uplift the quality of the wines and their reputation. 

The delicate, smoky and saline wines of Etna have rapidly become some of Italy’s most famous – but the region’s renaissance is recent. Rachael Ryan – Senior Buyer at Vinfolio, our US arm – sat down with Salvino Benanti, whose father was one of Etna’s pioneers

Etna’s wines have rapidly become some of Italy’s most famous – but the region’s renaissance is recent. We sat down with Benanti, one of Etna’s vinous pioneers

Establishing Etna – Benanti’s pioneering wines

Establishing Etna: Benanti

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

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

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

Jean-Marie Fourrier – student and master

Student and master: Jean-Marie Fourrier

I vividly remember the first time I tasted the Alvina Pernot wines. Burgundy was bitingly cold, and we ducked beneath Alvina Pernot and her husband Philippe Abadie’s home into their make-shift cellar, then delightfully cosy (at the time warmed just enough to encourage malolactic fermentation), and a welcome retreat from the Côte d’Or’s bracing winter weather. We squeezed into the tiny cellar, edging between the barrels crammed into the space. The wines were thrilling. Taut and pure styles of modern, pinpoint, mineral Chardonnay that were – and are – hard to resist. We were tasting the 2019s, just the second vintage from the modest operation; but they’ve rapidly established themselves as one of the Côte de Beaune’s most exciting new names. Alvina – always chic, dressed immaculately, with her gleaming green eyes and delicate features – doesn’t look like the stereotypical Burgundian vigneron. You're unlikely to spy dirt under her fingernails, and I struggle to imagine her sporting a pair of overalls. But wine is in her blood. The Pernot name is one that will be familiar to Burgundy-lovers – the family is one of the largest vineyard owners in Puligny-Montrachet (just after Leflaive), and makes some of the village’s best wines. Indeed, Alvina worked for the family estate Domaine Paul Pernot for years, but the urge to break out on her own grew over time. The Paul Pernot wines are the epitome of traditional white Burgundy, round, rich and sometimes sumptuous – and Alvina and Philippe wanted to make something of their own, a leaner style that suited their palates better. In 2017, a vineyard came up for sale – and it seemed like a sign. The plot, La Rue aux Vaches, is classified as village Puligny-Montrachet, but sits just below Premier Cru Clos des Meix and Les Pucelles. The family domaine had been farming and making wine from the site for years, and the couple knew how good the fruit was. They leapt at the chance to buy it, and the Alvina Pernot project was born. They were able to buy additional fruit from Alvina’s family, and started working on sourcing grapes from other Crus. Their first release, from the 2018 vintage, totalled 8,000 bottles. It's easy to see how challenging it might have been – going from working for the family business to setting up a separate project, and bearing the weight of their legacy. Alvina and her father have very different approaches in both the vineyard and winery, which certainly comes with its challenges, as they find the fine line between family and business, negotiating a new aspect to their relationship. “I think Alvina’s father was proud that she was starting something of her own,” Philippe says, looking affectionately at his wife. Indeed, it’s taken time for Alvina to fully step away from the family business, only officially resigning in March of this year to focus on their own label. Juggling the two estates (not to mention their son Pâris, who was born at the start of 2022) hasn’t been easy, and Philippe has – until now – had to do much of the work in the winery. Yet it’s also their family ties that have given them access to such incredible vineyards – appellations that are almost impossible to secure for most newcomers.  Five vintages in, it’s amazing to see how the project has evolved. They now produce 35,000 bottles, with the range having grown from seven to 24 cuvées. The duo are so embedded in the region and well-connected that they are able to source from some of the region’s best names, securing top sites that would be the envy of most estates. In addition to La Rue aux Vaches, they now own two further plots (both of which previously belonged to Alvina’s family): Les Noyers Brets (which is next to the couple’s home, added from 2020) and La Rue de Bois (the latter the vines that surround their winery, added in 2021). The focus is increasingly on specific sites within Puligny-Montrachet, with an ever-increasing number of Premiers and Grands Crus. In 2022, for example, they bottled three different wines from Folatières – Ez Folatières, Peux Bois and Clos des Folatières; and their Bourgogne Blanc has been divided into two different bottlings from different sites. Until 2021 the wines were made at Domaine Paul Pernot (and aged under Alvina and Philippe’s house) but the couple have now finished their own winery – giving them greater capacity, but also even greater control over the wines they’re making. From better temperature control and a broader range of maturation vessels (including both glass and amphorae, alongside oak) to reducing sulphur levels and more control over bottling, it’s allowed for even more precision. Each year, they tell me, they are pushing and doing “des petits tests”, looking to tweak and see how they can improve.  Alvina and Philippe firmly believe that almost all the work has to be done in the vineyard, with farming the three plots they own a huge part of what they do. Philippe has been doing it almost entirely himself – and is relieved that they’ve just been able to hire someone to help them. But the significance of the vineyards work is also why it is so important for them to source fruit carefully from growers with similar standards, and whom they trust. As with any small producer, the challenge when it comes to farming is not just quality, but quantity. Alvina and Philippe do almost everything by hand (indeed, they don’t even own a tractor yet – and still borrow Alvina’s father’s one when they can), and sustainability is a key focus. After pruning, it’s common in Burgundy to see the horizon dotted with smoking fires, as the cuttings are burnt; Philippe and Alvina avoid this and the resulting pollution, instead using the cuttings for a mulch to further increase the organic matter in their soils. They aren’t looking to be certified organic, but avoid chemical sprays wherever possible and are doing trials with biodynamics; the risks, and costs, are the threat, however. They can’t afford to lose an entire crop, as would have happened in a vintage like 2021, should they have refused to use anything but copper and sulphur; nor do they want to have to sell their wine for five times as much as they currently do, to allow such a philosophy. Ideals can only take you so far. While 75% of the job might be done by the time the fruit is harvested, it’s all too easy – even with the very best fruit – to ruin it all in the winery. “There’s nothing minor during vinification – everything matters,” Alvina explains. “Each tiny detail makes the difference between an average wine, a good wine and an excellent one.” Although between them the duo had plenty of experience, nothing is set in stone, and each year they feel they are learning more – as they continue to question what they do and why. “It’s also important not to be too wrapped up in our little cocoon, just the two of us, but to talk honestly each year with our expert oenologist [Pierre Fonteneau] about the wines,” Philippe explains, when it comes to the winemaking. “There are three voices in the business – Alvina, me and the oenologist – and not one counts less than the others.” It’s easy to imagine that any Burgundy producer’s goal is to be a domaine – to own a prime selection of the region’s most prized sites; but for this young couple, that’s not really the aim. Alvina is set to inherit some enviable plots, but they can’t imagine giving up the opportunity to continue working with many different parcels. “The diversity of terroirs is absolutely the most interesting part for us,” they say. It’s likely their range will continue to shift – as they get access to new, exciting parcels and discover those they really love. Ultimately, however, Alvina explains, “The aim is to make wines we love, the wines we want to drink. When people are happy to be there, to share the wines with us, and to find them, we’ve done what we set out to do.” Explore all current listings from Alvina Pernot or read more about Burgundy

We’ve been following Alvina Pernot – granddaughter of Paul Pernot – since she first struck out on her own. Sophie Thorpe sat down with Alvina and her husband Philippe Abadie to talk about the wines, their philosophy and the future

As Philippe Abadie and Alvina Pernot release their fifth vintage, we look at how this fledgling wine estate in Burgundy’s Puligny-Montrachet is evolving

Five years of Puligny-Montrachet’s Alvina Pernot

The other Pernot: Puligny-Montrachet’s Alvina Pernot

“I met Anselme Selosse when I was 13 and that really entered in my heart. He’s really a special person that changed the world of wine [for me],” Matteo Bisol tells me. It’s perhaps not what you’d expect of the young winemaker who represents the 21st generation of the Bisol family – a family that made their name with, and has become synonymous with, fine Prosecco.  Meeting the iconic Champagne producer – considered by many the pioneer behind the region’s grower movement – has stuck in Bisol’s mind, however. Partly, he believes, because he was at just the right age – partway between child and adult, his mind open to new ideas. “He was always talking about wine as a living thing, you know,” Bisol says. “I got it and I always thought it was very important.” He’s been immersed in the family business as long as he can remember. From the age of 10, he spent his summers working in the Bisol winery. “Once I arrived in the morning five minutes late and my father fired me. And then he hired me again because he didn’t want me to leave, being at home doing nothing,” says Bisol, laughing at the memory.  But Matteo Bisol has left the hills of Valdobbiadene behind, now in charge of his family’s very personal project: Venissa. It was Matteo’s father, Gianluca that embarked on the adventure over 15 years ago – but somewhat by accident. He was visiting the island of Torcello, which is home to one of the oldest churches in Venice – founded in 639 AD. “In front of the basilica, there’s a beautiful garden – a little bit hidden – but he saw some vine leaves,” Bisol explains. “He knocked on the door of the owner and introduced himself.” Gianluca spoke to the woman that owned the garden, who told him that a few of the vines were a local golden-skinned variety – Dorona. And down the rabbit hole, he went…  He started researching the grape and its history – discovering that viticulture had long been a part of life in the Venice Lagoon. For almost 2,500 years, vines had been grown on the islands – an integral element of the region’s culture. Before motors and speedboats, the islands were a three-hour journey from the mainland, so isolated that they had a totally different culture – “a culture based on nature, based on farming”, Bisol explains. Their isolation forced self-sufficiency, with every bit of space on each island used to grow something. With religion integral to Venice and indeed Italy’s history, wine – used for twice daily mass – was an essential part of life.   This history lives on in local nomenclature: one of the islands is called Le Vignole, one was known as Vigna Murata (now Lazzaretto Nuovo), San Francesco del Deserto was previously called Isola delle Due Vigne, a road on Murano is called Via della Vigne. Many islanders made wine, with presses for the fruit of the vines in their back garden or field. But as the islands of the lagoon became less distant, with the zip of an engine, many of the vineyards were pulled up, and those that remained were destroyed by the catastrophic floods of 1966.   After this initial discovery, Gianluca Bisol started seeking out Dorona vines – a quest that Matteo remembers vividly. “Really from the beginning, I was on the boat, with the bicycles on Sant’Erasmo looking for more Dorona grapes,” he says, describing their search for a variety that was – at the time – on the brink of extinction. It was a farmer, Gastone, on the island of Sant’Erasmo who really opened Gianluca’s eyes to working with Dorona. He was one of the last farmers in Venice to still make wine for personal consumption.   “A great person, a very beautiful person and very wise – he introduced us to the Dorona history and to the way he was making the wine in the past,” Bisol tells me. Thereafter, Gianluca hunted down cuttings and eventually –in 2006-2007 – planted 0.8 hectares of Dorona on the island of Mazzorbo.   It was tradition – rather than current fashions – that led them to make a white wine with extended skin contact. The wine had always been made with skin contact, and they decided to push it further, with a month of maceration, extracting as much flavour as possible from the unique variety. They also decided that the wines needed time to find their balance after such a long period of maceration. They considered barrel ageing, but didn’t want to change the profile of the wines with the flavour of oak, so instead opted for concrete – and two years’ élevage. The resulting wines have a fine phenolic grip and distinct mineral, even saline, freshness, with a nutty complexity that is reminiscent of mature white Hermitage, Burgundy or Jura Savagnin and Chardonnay – yet also unlike anything else. It’s this unique character that Bisol feels is why the wine is such a success. “We never tried to fit Venissa in any category… we just make the wine that we feel is the right thing for Venissa grapes,” he says  Since the first vintage in 2010, and when Matteo took over in 2013, they’ve learnt a huge amount. “There are parts of the vineyard – different parcels – that have a lower salt concentration in the soil,” Bisol explains. The more saline soils restrict the yield, producing smaller and even more concentrated berries. It was this discovery that led to the introduction of Venusa, a second wine that is made for earlier drinking, in 2017 and comes from the less saline plots. Of course, with two wines, it means that the already tiny volumes of the top white, Venissa Bianco, are even smaller – with just 2,000 bottles made a year. “It’s such a small vineyard that we know the plants one by one,” Bisol says, with an almost paternal fondness.  With each vintage, as well, they have pushed quality even further – learning how to get the most from the previously almost extinct Dorona. They’ve been making the wine for 20 years, but – as Bisol says – “Twenty years means you made it 20 times. Twenty times is nothing. Every year we see how the wine is responding, and we learn every year more things that allow us to make better and better wines.”  And making wine in this remarkable place, with its salt-soaked soils, is far from easy – something that the flood, or “acquaalta”, of November 2019 brought vividly to life. Although the vineyard is shielded by a wall, it couldn’t hold back the water – and once receded they had to wash the vines one by one with fresh water, and the soil as well, to try to remove the potentially catastrophically high salt content. It was only when the vines emerged from dormancy in the spring that they knew whether or not they’d done enough to save them.  “It also reminded us how resilient this grape variety is, which is actually the resilience of Venice – which has been a city or republic for more than 1,000 years,” Bisol says. The Dorona grape, like the region’s people, has adapted to its surroundings. Fortunately, with the introduction of MOSE in 2020, the city’s barrier system designed to shield it from high tides, flooding hasn’t threatened their crop – and vineyard – since.   It's clear talking to Bisol, that Venissa is much more than a wine. Not only is it a symbol of Venice’s resilience, but a project to preserve the city’s great traditions.The glass bottles come from the island of Murano, but it’s the labels that are particularly special. They work with Marino Menegazzo of Mario Berta Battiloro, the last goldbeater not just in Venice, but Europe – who hammers out a sheet of goldleaf for each and every bottle they produce, from the workshop that once was home to Titian. The design changes each year, with the leaf for each bottle very slightly different thanks to its hand-crafted nature. With Marino Menegazzo in his 70s, and no one to inherit the family business, this tradition – like the Dorona wines – is at risk.  “This part of the history of Venice, it’s an history that is very important and our role at Venissa is really to keep this history alive,” Bisol says. “For us, winemaking is really important, of course my family comes from winemaking, it has a history of 500 years in winemaking. But when we realised the history that was behind this city, behind agriculture and grape growing, and behind all these other handcrafting techniques, it became even more important for Venissa, as our role of preserving the heritage rather than just making a wine… We really believe that preserving our tradition is even more important than winemaking.”   While the family started with just 0.8 hectares on Mazzorbo, they soon started making a red from 2.75 hectares on Santa Cristina (with vines that were previously farmed by the Swarovski family). Now, they’ve planted Dorona on two more islands, harvesting the fruit for the first time this year. Under the Bisol family’s protective eye, it’s clear that this special Venetian tradition has found its guardian angel.  The Venissa wines are exclusively available from FINE+RARE in the UK; if you’d like to visit Venissa, please contact us. Browse all current listings and find out more about the estate here. 

Venissa is an estate like no other, crafting wine from the indigenous Dorona grape grown on islands in the Venice Lagoon. Sophie Thorpe spoke to Matteo Bisol about his family’s mission to preserve this unique Venetian tradition 

The Bisol family has made it their mission to save viticulture in the Venice Lagoon. We talk to Matteo Bisol about their island vineyards and making Dorona

Matteo Bisol of Venissa on making wine in Venice

Fighting the tide: Venissa’s quest to save Venice’s vineyards

The sheer number of distinctive styles of wine that emanate from France never fails to amaze. From the full-bodied, sumptuous Cabernets and Merlots of Bordeaux to the ethereal Pinot Noirs of Burgundy; from the mineral whites of the Loire to the aromatic spectrum of Alsace – everywhere you look there is variety. The Jura, situated in the remote central-eastern frontiers of France (bordering Switzerland) is another completely unique and distinctive French winemaking region – one which, perhaps because of its limited size and isolation, is not quite so universally known. But in recent years the region has grown in prominence and is now a real point of interest for collectors today – most notably for the quality of its white wines. Chardonnay and the native late-ripening white grape Savagnin produce wines that rival top Burgundy and, in many cases, offer better value. But it hasn’t been an easy road to recognition for the region. Following the phylloxera outbreak in the late 19th century, the Jura was on the brink of being wiped out altogether. Historically, it was a significant wine-producing region – 10 times bigger than it is today. But, in terms of size, it never recovered. Many of the vineyards were grubbed up, becoming farmland pastures; what remained amounts to just 2,000 hectares (a mere 10% of its original size). The leftfield oxidative style of the region’s wines also meant that as France’s wine exports grew, the Jura remained largely unnoticed. Traditionally, the region’s uniqueness came from the oxidative style of its white wines – the most famous, distinct and extreme of which is vin jaune. This white wine is made from Savagnin that is aged in barrels for over six years. During this time, the wine evaporates, allowing for oxygen ingress and a yeast film to form on top of the wine – protecting it from oxidation and at the same time strongly influencing the flavour. The process and effect is not dissimilar to Fino or Manzanilla Sherry, but the ageing is typically longer and the wine is neither fortified or blended – remaining single vintage. This style is distinct and, at its best, produces wines of outstanding complexity and fantastic ageing potential, but its intense flavours were never going to create mass appeal. Over the last 25 years or so, the younger generation of winemakers in the Jura have started to move away from only producing this oxidative style, influenced by their neighbours in Burgundy – whose vineyards are not dissimilar. The Jura – just 100km directly east of the Côte d’Or – shares similar soils of clay and Jurassic limestone and has the same continental climate, as well as growing both Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. In fact, many of the Jura’s younger vignerons cut their teeth making wine in Burgundy. Returning to their family domaines, they were more interested in producing wines styled on those of the Côte d’Or, focused on expressing site, rather than the region’s traditional style, dominated by oxidative characters and the influence of yeast. Young producers such as Jean-François Ganevat and Stéphane Tissot started to top their barrels, producing less oxidative, “ouillé” cuvées. This switch in style is arguably the most important recent development in the Jura. As these modern styles grew in popularity, the region started to attract a wider audience of fine wine drinkers.  Despite the similarities to Burgundy, the Chardonnay (sometimes blended with Savagnin) produced in the Jura brings its own elevated tautness and mouth-watering salinity and has acid-loving Chardonnay fans drooling. Burgundy producers themselves have even started to buy up land in the Jura; most famously Domaine Marquis d’Angerville set up Domaine du Pélican in 2012. Supposedly Guillaume d’Angerville was served a Chardonnay blind at Paris’s Taillevent restaurant and was convinced it was a top bottling of Burgundy. When he discovered it was from the Jura, he soon started exploring the region and before long had bought vineyards there. Fatter and richer in texture than Chablis, but more laser-like than the Côte d’Or – Jura whites have found a niche. What’s more, the vignerons’ knowledge of producing oxidative wines has given them the freedom to experiment with both reductive and oxidative characters (without going to the extremes of vin jaune), producing truly original wines. It is another distinct trait of the region that brings a lot of freedom to the winemaking and a lot of variety – even from just one producer. The Jura’s rise to prominence is also due to its association with low-intervention or natural wine – most notably the influence of Domaine Pierre Overnoy, based in the Jura hamlet of Pupillin. Overnoy is seen by many as the godfather of the natural wine movement – and his wines are today some of the most fiercely collected. The fanfare around this remarkable producer has been hugely influential on other producers in the region, at the same time raising the reputation of the region to an ever-widening audience. Other in-demand stars of Jura, who to one degree or another are classed as low-intervention producers and who make ouillé wines (though not exclusively) include Jean-François Ganevat and Stéphane Tissot. The difficulty today, at a time when Jura wines have never been more popular, is volume. Of all the regions in Europe, few have been hit as hard by spring frosts than the Jura. Successive vintages back to 2015 have seen production slashed. With rising demand, perhaps it’s time for the Jura appellation to expand once again and seek out sites that are less susceptible to frost. Domaine Pierre Overnoy aside, the top wines of Jura, for now, remain brilliant value – another reason fans of Burgundy are looking further afield. The white wine styles of the Jura Ouillé: Also described as modern or floral. In any other region, this is typically the “normal” style of any dry wine – in that the wine has no overt oxidative character. While traditionally barrels in the Jura might not have been topped up, allowing oxygen to influence the wine, for ouillé wines they are topped up to protect them from this. Sous voile: Also described as traditional or oxidative, these are the more traditional style of white wines from the region. Literally meaning “under the veil”, the wines are biologically aged with a film of yeast – like Manzanilla or Fino Sherry. Following fermentation, the wines are extensively aged in oak barrels that are not fully topped up. This encourages a film of yeast to form on the top of the wines, protecting them from oxidation and introducing yeast-influenced flavours. Depending on the winemaker, wines can be aged for one to 10 or more years using this method. The longer the wines are aged in barrel, the more oxidative flavours dominate the wine. Vin jaune is the most famous wine made in this style (see below). Vin jaune: A specific style of sous voile, with an official classification and made only with Savagnin. The wines have to spend over six years under flor before being bottled. Rich and complex, the most famous vin jaune is Château-Chalon. Vin jaune is also always bottled in a distinctive, squat 62cl clavelin bottle.

Macvin: This fortified Vin Doux Naturel is produced only in the Jura. It is made from the must of Savagnin which is then boiled – concentrating the must. It is then fortified with brandy to around 16% alcohol. Strictly this is not a wine since there is no fermentation process. Once fortified it is then aged for six years in oak. Vin de Paille: While not a style unique to Jura, it remains an important style of the region and with quite distinct rules under the appellation. Grapes (usually Chardonnay and Savagnin, and sometimes the red grape Poulsard and Trousseau) are typically picked early to retain acidity and then dried, concentrating the sugars. The wine is then fermented and must reach 14% alcohol. Depending on the grapes’ concentration, the residual sugar of the wine can vary from 60-130g/litre. The wine must be aged for a minimum three years (which includes 18 months in oak). The wines can be made in a fresh or oxidative style depending on the producer’s preference. The wines are always sold in half-bottles. Recommended wine producers in the Jura Domaine Pierre Overnoy: Since he was a boy, Pierre Overnoy was taught how to make wine by his father using traditional methods and without sulphur dioxide. Despite studying modern winemaking in Burgundy during the mid-1970s, he was disappointed by the results. Returning back to the Jura, he adapted his father’s traditional approach to produce wines to his liking – as well as making wines in a fresher non-oxidative style. In 1984, Overnoy stopped using sulphur during fermentation but continued to use a little at bottling. By 1986, he had stopped using SO2 at all. He has been hugely influential in the natural wine movement. In 2001, Pierre Overnoy retired at the age of 63, handing it over to his protégé Emmanuel Houillon, who worked alongside Overnoy from the age of 14. Overnoy’s almost evangelical following, along with miniscule levels of production, have made the wines highly sought-after. The release dates of the wines are not set, only released when Houillon deems them ready to drink, making it sometimes challenging for collectors. Houillon even bottles the same vintage of a wine at different dates – and only began to note bottling dates on the wine labels from 2018. Domaine Jean-François Ganevat: Ganevat is the 14th generation of his family to make wine in the Jura, with the family estate founded in 1650. Before joining the family estate in 1998, he worked with Jean-Marc Morey in Chassagne-Montrachet. Although the estate has just 8.5 hectares under vine, the domaine grows 45 different varieties – many of which are ancient, native varieties to the Jura, including two distinct red varieties Poulsard and Trousseau which are the most planted in the region along with Pinot Noir. His best wines however are his ouillé Savagnin and Chardonnay that can be outstanding. Benedicte & Stéphane Tissot: This is one of the largest and most important estates in the Jura today. Although the domaine name is officially still Domaine André & Mireille Tissot (named after Stéphane’s parents) the bottlings are labelled Benedicte & Stéphane Tissot. The domaine has 50 hectares under vine in both the Arbois appellation (where the winery is based) as well as the Côtes du Jura and Château-Chalon appellations. There is plenty of experimentation going on with the estate producing a wide array of cuvées from the traditional flor-aged Savagnin bottlings of place-designated vin jaunes of Château Chalon, La Vasée and Bruyères to their more modern ouillé single-vineyard Chardonnays. Tissot also produces a rosé made from a rare Chardonnay clone that has a natural pink tinge. Of the top cuvées, their single-vineyard Chardonnays from the Clos de la Tour de Curon, La Mailloche, Les Graviers and Les Bruyères vineyards are the most sought out. 
 Other top Jura producers to look out for: Domaine Rijckaert, Domaine Dugois, Domaine Pignier, Domaine Montbourgeau, Domaine de la Tournelle, Domaine Labet, Domaine des Miroirs, Domaine du Pélican, Domaine de la Touraize Browse all Jura listings or read more Editorial

With names like Overnoy, Ganevat and Tissot making it a must for collectors, the Jura's cool slopes are producing Chardonnay and Savagnin to rival Burgundy. Here’s everything you need to know about the region's whites – from the styles made to the producers to watch out for

Everything you need to know about the Jura wine region, its signature grapes Savagnin, Chardonnay and their styles Vin de Paille, Vin Jaune and Ouillé

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