The Langhe is unspeakably beautiful. You may have seen Allessandro Masnaghetti’s 3D maps – a painstaking project by this now-iconic cartographer to translate these terroirs to paper. Their textured surfaces speak of Barolo and Barbaresco’s complex geology – and yet they don’t fully convey its endless curves and corners, winding roads and intricate jigsaw of villages and vineyards, nestled in amongst each other. This is a landscape carved and sculpted by nature over 15 million years; the vines cling to precipitous slopes, sweeping down toward the valleys. Like the effortless lines of Michaelangelo’s marble, it’s a masterpiece.  We’ve just returned from a trip to Piedmont’s most prestigious vineyards, dipping a toe in the waters of this fascinating area over three days. With the layers of region, village (11 in Barolo, three in Barbaresco), its Crus (officially known as MGAs, Menzione Geografica Aggiuntiva) and individual vigne or vineyards, Barolo and Barbaresco are often compared to Burgundy. These layers of complexity and nuance are what wine-lovers thrive on, the detail that allows us to indulge new levels of geekery. Add to this the finesse and aromatic perfume of Nebbiolo, and it’s easy to see why Pinot Noir lovers fall for the region.   While wine has long been made in the Langhe (for at least 2,000 years), the first dry Barolo is thought to have been bottled in 1844, with wines before that often sweet or lightly sparkling. It’s only really in the 1960s that the region’s reputation started to be built. Wines were – as in Burgundy – mainly made by négociants until this point, when individual estates started making their own wine. Traditionally wines from across the region were blended to create an expression of Barolo as a whole, but this too started to change. Prunotto and Vietti were the first to identify and vinify individual plots in Barolo, following a trip to Burgundy in the 1950s and ’60s (read more about the birth of Barolo’s Crus here); while in Barbaresco, it was Angelo Gaja who started to make wine exclusively from vineyards the family owned (from 1961) and then bottled the single vineyard Sorì San Lorenzo separately for the first time in 1967.  Traditionally the wines were made with long maceration times (leaving the wine in contact with the skins for 50 or more days) and several years in large oak casks, to extract colour, tannin and flavour from the thin-skinned Nebbiolo. These wines were immensely age-worthy, but their rasping tannins often needed time to become approachable – in some cases the fruit would fade while waiting for the tannins to come round. Winemaking – as elsewhere – was rudimentary, and the late 20th century brought with it modern technology and better hygiene. But the 1980s also saw Barolo divided.  This was the period of Parker and Parkerization, with rich, voluptuous wines with sweet fruit and vanilla tones from new French oak all the rage. Barolo couldn’t be further from this style – and its winemakers were humble farmers, with little recognition (financial or otherwise) for their work. But then a group of producers, led by Elio Altare, embraced the barrique (the traditional 225-litre French oak barrel), looking to put Barolo and its wines on the world map. These modernists, sometimes known as the “Barolo boys”, used new oak, and shorter, more vigorous extractions to craft wines that were fruitier, darker and more immediate – and received instant acclaim. The traditionalists of the region, however, fiercely defended the Langhe’s historical ways, the use of long macerations and large, old botte casks. Bartolo Mascarello famously released a label stating “No Barrique, No Berlusconi” (adorning the 1998 and 1999 vintage), decrying the use of new oak and Berlusconi’s right-wing politics.   Modernisation was essential – and better hygiene, with the arrival of stainless steel, was revolutionary. Today, as more and more producers around the world turn to large oak casks, it’s unsurprising that many in Barolo and Barbaresco are returning to their botti, and new oak has generally fallen from favour (at least in high proportions), yet the barrel certainly lives on, even if still controversial.  “Barrique… it’s an ugly word here in the Langhe,” says Dave Fletcher, the Australian producer who left the Yarra to make wine in Piedmont over a decade ago (under Fletcher Wines and Cantina della Stazione). He avoids new wood, but prefers barrels for the ability to vinify plots separately – something he feels is important for quality. There are also  those who feel that the minimum ageing requirements (18 months in oak for Barbaresco and 24 months in oak for Barolo) are old-fashioned, forcing the production of wood-heavy wines that are removed from current tastes – even suggesting that there’s a movement for these minimum times in oak to be adjusted.  As in Burgundy, whole-bunch has become a divisive topic. Some wines have traditionally been made with whole-bunch fermentation (as with Burlotto’s Monvigliero), but now some producers feel a small percentage can help bring freshness in warmer vintages, while others feel it distracts from the terroir, and doesn’t suit Nebbiolo.  Climate change is seeing a shift in the most prized plots, with some producers now feeling south/southwest-facing sites (historically the most desirable) too warm, and north/northeasterly exposure better for the long term, or finding other ways to manage global warming. Land prices have been rising, and there’s an increasing amount of outside investment, as well an increasing number of producers arriving from beyond Piedmont – although there are still those, such as Vietti’s Eugenio Palumbo, Burlotto’s Alessandria or Gaja’s Gaia Gaja, who were born and bred here, and have been embedded in the industry, and often their family business, their entire lives. We dove into recent vintages, especially the very different yet both excellent 2020 and 2021s, the former open and approachable, the latter closed and needing time. We talked about clones and rootstocks, the persistence and suitability of Chardonnay in the Langhe, the pressure on the region’s biodiversity – and much, much more.  We’ll be publishing more in the coming weeks and months, as well as shining a light on the wines of the region – one that should be part of any collector’s cellar. But, as with the wines here, there is so much to consider. As Nicola Oberto of Trediberri told us, “It doesn’t need to be obvious – it needs to be interesting.” And that, the endless nuance and complexity, is what makes the region’s great Nebbiolo so enchanting.  Keep an eye out for more on Piedmont over the coming months or browse all current listings from the region 

Just returned from a whistlestop tour of Barolo and Barbaresco, Sophie Thorpe mulls the complexity that defines the Langhe, and makes it so endlessly appealing

Just returned from a tour of Barolo and Barbaresco, Sophie Thorpe mulls the complexity that defines the Langhe, and makes it so endlessly appealing

The allure of the Langhe’s Barolo and Barbaresco

The allure of the Langhe

The 2022 vintage broke records in France for its hot, dry conditions – but the wines it produced are far from solar. Fresh from a week spent digging into the vintage with producers and tasting the wines, Sophie Thorpe reports on the remarkable year and the wines it produced

On the back of our deep-dive into Bordeaux’s 2022 vintage, tasting and talking, here’s everything you need to know about the year’s remarkable wines

Bordeaux 2022 vintage overview

Bordeaux 2022: vintage overview

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

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

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

Serge Valentin – the Joker in the pack

Serge Valentin: the Joker in the pack

Ch. Rayas is truly special. The estate’s bottles – with their classic, simple red-and-black design and distinctive triangular neck label – command instant respect amongst afficionados.  Pure Grenache grown on the estate’s sandy soils, this remarkable Châteauneuf-du-Pape transcends its appellation. The wines are perfumed, pretty and elegant, with extraordinary finesse – reminding more of red Burgundy than the bolder wines that the Rhône is often associated with.   The Reynaud family has owned the estate since 1880, and their determined avoidance of any publicity has only increased the property’s allure. Indeed, it’s perhaps this, combined with an off-hands approach in the winery, that means they are one of the few producers to broach the fine wine-natural divide – lauded equally by more traditional fine wine drinkers and the natural wine brigade. Held back and only released once mature, in tiny allocations to markets around the world, the wines are incredibly hard to get hold of.  Earlier this year, we arranged a special dinner tasting through 22 wines from the estate – three of its rare white Châteauneuf-du-Pape and 19 vintages of the flagship red, stretching back to 1990. The vertical offered unique insight into the estate, its character shining through in each wine on show.  Indeed, it was the freshness of the wines that amazed everyone in attendance – including longtime fan and Wine Advocate Deputy Editor William Kelley – stamped on every wine.  Only 400 cases a year are made of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc, from two hectares of Clairette and Grenache Blanc, fermented and aged in old oak. White Rhône is a wine for true geeks – and this is an exceptional example – a wine about texture and minerality, almost approaching Grand Cru Chablis in its pure stoniness. Suited perfectly to pairing with all sorts of food, it was clear – even with just three vintages of this unicorn – how well it ages, the 1999 still an outstandingly fresh and fine wine.  Of course, the reds were the main event. Much to everyone’s surprise, it was the so-called “off-vintages”, years that might be deemed “lesser”, that were the most impressive – it was in these bottlings that the singularity of Rayas shone through, over-riding the character of the appellation or year.   The 2008 (given “only” 93 points by Parker back in 2012, upgraded from its original 90 in 2010) was the wine of the night for most people. By contrast, the top-rated 2009 from a blockbuster vintage was impressive, yet the vintage ever so slightly masked the Rayas style – making the wine feel more like another (very good) Châteauneuf-du-Pape.  Overall, the wines showed an effortless timelessness – drinking beautifully now, yet clearly showing the potential to evolve for another 10-15 years or more, depending on the vintage. The more mature wines might show evolution on the nose – with tertiary sous-bois notes – but on the palate, there remained a remarkable energy and vibrancy, with immense clarity of fruit. On several vintages a citrus, almost orange, note shone through, with a mineral thread and juicy acidity. Despite the undoubtedly high alcohol levels, the wines were all amazingly delicate – with no heat from the punchy ABV. And the tannins were effortlessly integrated, remarkably soft despite the structure designed for the long-haul.  Tasting through this line-up was an absolute privilege; for these rightly revered, rare wines are incredible. With no new oak, they are all about the purity and quality of fruit. They show exceptional longevity, an ethereality and easy grace that mesmerises. It’s no surprise that they are so avidly collected.  Read more about Rayas and browse all current listings

After a special vertical tasting of wines from cult producer Ch. Rayas, Senior Key Account Manager Yaron Einav reflects on the unique appeal of this singular Châteauneuf-du-Pape estate 

Exploring what makes the wines from the singular Chateauneuf-du-Pape estate Ch. Rayas so special at a vertical tasting of 22 wines stretching back to 1990

The timeless appeal of Rayas, Chateauneuf-du-Pape

Ch. Rayas: singular Châteauneuf-du-Pape

It is hard to imagine The Balvenie without David Stewart MBE and vice versa. The story of each one is so entwined with the other that it’s nigh on impossible to unpick where one starts and the other ends. Since joining William Grant & Sons in 1962 as a whisky stocks clerk, Stewart has gone on to become of the most well-known and respected names in the Scotch whisky industry. He is, for many, the pioneer of cask finishing, and his achievements are far too numerous to list. When the incredibly humble man “hangs up his boots” after a 57-year-plus career, Kelsey McKechnie will become the youngest-ever female Malt Master. “Everyone always jokes and says do I feel the pressure and what does it feel like getting into a role like this. There definitely is an element of pressure around it but it’s funny, you really don’t feel it. I enjoy this role and I love being here. I’ve been very lucky, so I’m saying ‘let’s ride it out for as long as we can’,” the 29-year-old says with unfettered excitement. The Malt Master role is a very different one today than it was in the 1960s, something McKechnie and William Grant & Sons Master Blender Brian Kinsman continually rib Stewart about. “Obviously, way back in the ’60s we had very little to nose,” Stewart says in a flash. When he joined the family-owned business under Master Blender and Balvenie Malt Master Hamish Robertson, Glenfiddich and The Balvenie weren’t being bottled as single malts and Grant’s Standfast blend was the company’s bread and butter. Today, the triumvirate nose samples from Ailsa Bay, Girvan Distillery, Kininvie, Glenfiddich and The Balvenie. From the new-make spirit to mature samples, bottling runs to all the vat samples, everything produced at the William Grant distilleries in Scotland and Ireland passes under the noses of Kinsman, McKechnie and Stewart. This equates to approximately 40-50 Scotch, Irish whiskey, Bourbon and rum samples per day. There are a number of parallels in Stewart and McKechnie’s stories, which they don’t even seem to realise. Both started in very different roles and eyed an interesting opportunity to nose spirits. Through serendipity and, one suspects, a tremendous amount of inherent skill and hard graft, the two found their way into the nosing lab. And once faced with row upon row of whisky samples, the pair knew in an instant that they found their calling. “I always say I have been very lucky,” McKechnie says. “I’m such a firm believer in timing. I came into the team at a time when I had built up enough technical process skills to understand how whisky is produced and carry out analysis, and do all these different things and apply it to blending.” In 2018, Kinsman and Stewart approached 26-year-old McKechnie to ask if she would be interested in learning all things regarding Balvenie and eventually moving into the Malt Master role. She’d been with the company for almost four years at this time, working her way from the lab to the whisky stocks team, from the Lowlands to the beating heart of the business in Speyside. So, what does it take to become a Malt Master and what did the two whisky patriarchs see in the young female scientist at the infancy of her whisky career? According to Stewart, one of the biggest things is the nosing aspect. “We can identify what’s right and what’s not, just by nosing the whisky,” he says. “And that’s what takes the time to learn.” Stewart had already been through the process of training a successor with Brian Kinsman from 2001 to 2010. It might be hard for some to fathom why this apprenticeship takes the best part of a decade, but so much of the role is about instinct and the finest of margins. In the same way Robertson brought in samples for Stewart – albeit not quite as many – all those years before, Stewart to this day brings in spirit samples for Kinsman and McKechnie. “Really, it’s nosing together; pointing out things,” Stewart adds. “I bring in samples from different cask types and different ages. Brian just worked with me and gradually he took over and I was doing less and less.” When asked if she thinks she has a natural gift, McKechnie says it’s curiosity above anything else that’s required to be a good noser. “I think everybody just needs to be curious enough to want to nose. Most often – apart from a few people where it is genetic and there’s one reason or another that they don’t have a sense of smell – I actually think so many people will be fantastic nosers.” And the difference between Joe Bloggs and the youngest-ever female Malt Master? The word association piece, according to McKechnie. “So often we’ll see when people are starting up that they can nose something and they can say ‘this is different’. So we do difference nosing. We have one glass and we’re just nosing it against another and saying ‘pick up the difference or not’ – it’s often easy for people but they can’t put into play what they can pick up.” Like any other skill, McKechnie says it takes years of practice and fine tuning. “It’s like using a different language,” she says. “To remain fluent, you need to continually keep nosing and to be able to relate those words to what you’re picking up in nose and taste. I actually think everyone has a gift, if that’s what you want to call it, or the ability to do it. It’s just about really working out what flavour this is and what do we call it.” Sometimes tasting notes for spirits and wines can be a little, shall we say, creative. For this reason, at William Grant & Sons, free words are banned. “We’re really strict about what people can call the different spirits,” McKechnie explains. “It could be too easy for somebody to say ‘this smells like a walk in the park’ and we can find ourselves in a bit of a pickle.” When starting out, as a professional or merely an appreciator of spirits, this word association piece can be a barrier, according to McKechnie, but it shouldn’t be. “There is no need for whisky to be intimidating at all,” she says. “For me, I think it’s because people are so passionate about it. It gets everyone a little bit puffed up – I’m guilty of it as well. But there really is no need for it at all because it really is such an open area that there isn’t one strict answer so I’ll always say that to people – if you are new to it, make sure you get lots of water in there because whisky is just such a flavour bomb. I think people don’t really know what they’re nosing because there are 50-100 different flavours coming at you at once.” So, do the three professional nosers ever disagree? “Because I’ve only ever learned to nose and blend from David who has learned from Brian and vice versa, we don’t often butt heads or have a difference of opinion –  but it does happen,” McKechnie says with a coy smile. Rather than being daunted by the spectre of the longest-serving Malt Master and Kinsman – who has racked up a fairly daunting 24 years in role – McKechnie seems energised by the legacy and is visibly thrilled at the prospect of one day imparting this knowledge to her own apprentice. “I think it would be a massive compliment to be able to give someone the knowledge you have gained,” she says. “I really like the thought of actually one day being able to train someone.” When it comes to the future at The Balvenie, McKechnie says they have “many things bubbling away in the warehouses” and they have “a few more Balvenies tucked up our sleeves”. But, on a personal note, “it’s working with Brian and David day-in-day-out and gaining more of the understanding about what makes Balvenie so unique. Understanding more around the stock model and that 50-year horizon and ensuring that I’ve got the skills to make sure the next 50 years is looking good and that we’re not laying down all the wrong things.” The Balvenie maintains a lot of the traditional whisky-making traditions. It is the only Scotch whisky distillery to grow its own barley, use traditional floor maltings and keep coppersmiths and coopers on site. Rather than being gilded handcuffs, these ties to traditions allow the team to experiment at the point of distillation and Stewart has spearheaded a number of trials that have come from the maltings throughout his career. “I think if there is one thing that David has ever taught me, it’s about how important innovation is,” McKechnie says. “We always talk about the fact we’re the home of cask finishing. It was something that was second nature in David’s role until people started calling it innovation. “And it’s something that we always want to pass on. We’re constantly thinking about what’s next and how can we do something unique and what exciting things we have in the distillery that we could release and bring to everyone. “Obviously the Scotch Whisky Association is pretty strict, in a good way, so that no-one is going to mimic us, but we also like to push the boundaries a little bit and say, what can we really get away with here?” With a glint in her eye and an unmistakable enthusiasm in her voice, you can’t help but feel The Balvenie, when it comes to honouring tradition and driving innovation, is in very safe hands for the next 50 years and beyond. Browse all whisky or read more Editorial

David Stewart MBE is the longest-serving Malt Master. Kelsey McKechnie is the youngest female Malt Master Apprentice. Holly Motion speaks to the two Balvenie record-breakers about passing the baton, the weight of a legacy, and what it really means to lay down stocks for the next generation

Balvenie's longest-serving Malt Master David Stewart MBE and his successor Kelsey McKechnie on upholding tradition while driving innovation at the distillery.

The Balvenie, making of a master

The Balvenie: the making of a master

Barolo Chinato. Utter these words and you’re likely to receive one of two responses – “I absolutely adore it” or “Come again?” For the unacquainted, Barolo Chinato is an aromatised, fortified wine from the Piedmont region. It is made by infusing up to three dozen herbs and spices, the principal one being quinine, in grape neutral alcohol. The infusion is then used to fortify Barolo DOGC wine made from 100% Nebbiolo grapes. The blend is then matured in oak barrels for up to 12 months. Prior to bottling, a small amount of sugar is added. At around 16% alcohol, it is the same strength as most red vermouths. Its name comes from the Italian “China”, for quinine.   Two men are credited with the invention of Barolo Chinato: Giuseppe Cappellano and Giulio Cocchi. It is thought Italian pharmacist Cappellano created the recipe in Serralunga d’Alba in the 1800s and Cocchi created a new formula in 1891.  “I first tasted Barolo Chinato 10-15 years ago, when I was forging my path in the world of vintage spirits, and still remember being struck by the complexity of the drink,” purveyor of antique and unusual spirits, Edgar Harden, tells me. “The soft, viscous mouthfeel, the fruit flavour compounded with herbs and spices and a bittersweet finish lingered until the next sip,” the Old Spirits Company director adds.   Harden is an expert in rare and vintage cocktail ingredients – for want of a better word – often from defunct or discontinued producers. He says we are “blessed” to live in a time where there is such a range of antique vermouths, amari and Barolo Chinatos available. If you know where to look, he says, there are “hundreds of brands from every little town in Italy” to be found, and interest in these liquids is at an “all-time high”.   Barolo Chinato was originally meant to be consumed any time after bottling. But, because of the additional alcohol and small dose of sugar, it can be left for decades, even a century, if it has been stored correctly – “in its brown glass bottle in proper, dark, humid, subterranean environment,” Harden explains.   “Although Barolo Chinato is only slightly stronger than a Barolo wine, the introduction of a grape-spirit-based liqueur into the blend provides it with significant fuel for longevity,” he continues. “The inevitable oxidisation that occurs in a product on the lower part of the alcohol spectrum, the different rates of decay of the 30-plus herbs and spices and the recombination of those receding and advancing flavours at rates not originally intended provide for magical and harmonious combinations for the palate.”  He says, while traditionally it would be served neat, room temperature, in a small glass after a meal with dark chocolate, it is increasingly being used as a stand-in for many vermouths and Amari in classic and modern cocktail recipes.  Cocchi owner and Managing Director Roberto Bava says this idea to promote Barolo Chinato as the perfect companion to dark chocolate (“Like the French had with Pineau de Charentes,” he explains) saved the drink from extinction in the 1970s.   To many people’s surprise, the idea worked and the number of producers steadily increased. “It was a very simple detail but it was the lifesaver of the whole category,” Bava says, “I am very proud of this”.   Bava acknowledges Barolo Chinato is and will likely remain a “boutique” product, in part because of its price – “of course it is more expensive than amaro – you have to use a DOGC Barolo to make Barolo Chinato”, he says – but he believes its heritage and quality will continue to recruit fans.  With these credentials, and an ever-growing appreciation for rare and intriguing liquids, we think this lesser-known export from the prestigious wine region is going to struggle to remain a secret for much longer. Explore more Editorial

It is fair to say Barolo Chinato is a niche category. While some may know it well, others might have never heard of it. We explore the history of Barolo Chinato and why it’s firmly got a place in our hearts and drinks cabinet

A look at the Piedmont region’s lesser-known, fortified export

What is Barolo Chinato?

For many, the past 12 months meant working in isolation and big plans were shelved. At Domaines Barons de Rothschild (Lafite), it was an extremely proactive year of change. These changes have resulted in the strongest line up of wines from the Lafite stable we can remember. Ch. Duhart-Milon has seen a massive step up in quality with their 2020, and Lafite has reached new levels of ethereal finesse – while their Pomerol property, L’Evangile, has found fantastic freshness and clarity without losing any of its Pomerol opulence. They are a unique line-up of wines, each brimming with personality. As the demands for precision viticulture becomes more established in today’s top-flight Bordeaux, the leading First Growth estates know they must be at the forefront of these changes if they are to maintain their preeminent stature. Ch. Lafite Rothschild and its fellow Domaines Barons de Rothschild (Lafite) estates of L’Evangile, Duhart-Milon and Rieussec are no different. In this dynamic period for Bordeaux such changes and improvements have taken many forms. Perhaps the most visibly apparent development at DBR Lafite is the new winemaking facility for Ch. Duhart-Milon right in the centre of Pauillac’s town centre. It fortunately came into operation just in time for the 2020 vintage.  DBR Lafite’s International Director Jean-Sébastien Philippe believes the exceptional state-of-the-art facility has brought “a new level of precision to the wine”. The introduction of temperature-controlled, smaller vats allows for plot-by-plot fermentation, picking the grapes only at optimum ripeness, rather than lumped all together in one vat. On tasting, it has clearly made a huge impact on the wine, with better ripeness to the tannins. It has really captured the finesse so typical of its bigger sibling Lafite. The clarity of fruit is fantastic and is a big step up for the estate. Perhaps less visible but no less significant is the new team dynamic now operating at the properties, where a heightened level of collaboration has been instilled to better circumnavigate decisions made in the vineyard. Philippe is quick to point out that 2020 was what the French call “un millésime de vignerons”, in that the success or failure of the 2020 vintage lay firmly at the feet of those working in the vineyard. It was a growing season where many difficult decisions had to be made.  The 2020 vintage is in fact Lafite’s first full vintage working organically (and L’Evangile’s third) – no mean feat considering the outburst of mildew that threatened the vineyards in the wet spring. Never has collaboration and specialist know-how been more essential.  “We needed to question ourselves a lot,” admits Philippe, “and no one is right alone... It was a vintage where the vigneron was forced to question themselves every day. It was a vintage of contrast and team spirit. We had to think collectively across the team,” he adds.  It is the first year that the two flagship properties of L’Evangile and Lafite have had two separate dedicated Technical Directors with Eric Kohler remaining in charge of Lafite and Duhart-Milon, while Olivier Trégoat was able to focus on L’Evangile and Rieussec. Beyond the permanent staff at each château, the team was able to make use of a shared research and development team headed up by Manuela Brando. It was Brando’s crucial role to co-ordinate data, empirical research, and lead improvements while working collaboratively with the different teams in the vineyard. Something she has been doing with the Lafite team since 2015. This additional level of research has enabled the teams to make some bold decisions, resulting in some truly impressive wines in 2020. Although Lafite is consistently lower in alcohol than most other Pauillac properties, for the wine to come in at just 12.8% alcohol in what was a dry, hot vintage is staggering. Beyond that, the wine is no less detailed or impactful for it, bringing a level of the ethereal into the Pauillac structure. It is an extraordinary wine – so light on its feet, yet deceptively structured with fantastic depth. There are few estates with the confidence to produce a Pauillac of such finesse, but it remains Lafite’s signature. At L’Evangile, their courage was displayed at harvest. Philippe is proud to admit they were the first property out picking in the vineyards of Pomerol – determined to capture the freshness of the vintage. They had picked 80% of the entire crop prior to the heatwave that hit the Right Bank between 12th and 14th September.  “With the natural richness and maturity of the grapes, we are always looking for freshness and balance,” says Philippe, “always trying to make wines that seem younger the older the wines get.” At L’Evangile, they took another brave step and reduced the cuvaison period from 28 days' maceration on skins down to 21-23 days. This was another way to increase freshness in the wine. They also reduced the new oak to 50% (previously it made up 80%). But the key for Philippe was “to be very precise at assemblage”. “It is important to have as many lots of wines as possible to taste when blending,” he says. “2020 is a vintage which required tough decisions – there was no room for compromise.”  L’Evangile is undoubtedly very special this year. Perhaps even better than 2019, which was already very good. The wine has great generosity, so typical of Pomerol, but is more elegant in 2020. What is so impressive about the wine is its sustain on the palate: it has incredible length, and the clarity of fruit just stays with you right to the finish. Changes are far from over at Domaines Barons de Rothschild (Lafite), as plenty of further experimentation continues behind the scenes. But what is abundantly clear with the 2020 wines is their investment and commitment to collaborative viticulture is setting a precedent amongst the elite of Bordeaux – and the wines have never been more precise. Browse all Lafite listings or read more Editorial 

Domaines Barons de Rothschild (Lafite)’s Jean-Sébastien Philippe speaks to Gavin Smith about the benefits of collaboration amongst its châteaux – Lafite, L’Evangile, Rieussec and Duhart-Milon

Domaines Barons de Rothschild (Lafite)’s Jean-Sébastien Philippe on the benefits of collaboration amongst  Lafite, L’Evangile, Rieussec and Duhart-Milon

Domaines Barons de Rothschild year of innovation

Domaines Barons de Rothschild: a year of innovation

Think of Bordeaux, and you probably don’t think of skateboarding and denim shirts. Damien Barton-Sartorius, however – Director of Château Langoa and Léoville Barton – manages somehow to combine millennial cool with an effortless suaveness that feels distinctly Bordelais. “When you’re one of these old families, the rest of Bordeaux looks at you in a different way,” he tells me. There have been Bartons in Bordeaux since the 18th century. One of the region’s “wine geese”, Irishman Thomas Barton arrived in 1722, and Hugh Barton bought Château Langoa in 1821, acquiring part of the Léoville estate in 1826. Since then, the empire has grown: alongside their Saint-Julien Classed Growth properties, there’s a Moulis estate (Mauvesin Barton) and a négoce operation. As if that wasn’t enough, Barton-Sartorius has two personal side-projects too: Initio and 225, the latter of which is his latest venture – a sustainability-led project, shipping wine in bulk and bottling in the destination market. He’s restless and enthusiastic, having taken over directing the Classed Growth estates (while his sister, Mélanie is in charge of Mauvesin) from his mother and Saint-Julien matriarch, Lillian Barton, in the last couple of years. This year sees the 200th anniversary of Langoa’s purchase – and when I ask him what has changed in that time, the answer is easy: “Not so much,” he shrugs. It’s the mark of a business like this, handed from generation to generation, that shifts are seamless and gradual, no one looking to make a mark – but preserve a unique heritage. Both Langoa and Léoville are classical Saint-Julien – a style often described as sitting between pinpoint Pauillac and sensual Margaux. For Barton-Sartorius, it’s “a bit like Vosne-Romanée in Burgundy, we have everything”. The Langoa estate is defined by its proximity to the river, the estuary’s constant movement helping to rid the vineyards of humidity and moderating the temperature – shielding it from extreme weather, rarely suffering from frosts (even in vintages like 2017) and allowing them to produce balanced wines in otherwise very warm vintages such as 2003, 2009 and 2018. It is, however, the soils that make Barton-Sartorius swoon. “The gravels are quite extraordinary,” he says, animated in his excitement. The gravels reach between three and six metres below the surface, giving the perfect level of drainage – but not too much, with a layer of clay beneath to hold essential water reserves. “The perfect balance,” Barton-Sartorius sighs. While it was once rare to hear the Bordelais talking about their terroir, there’s a definite shift underway. “For a long time Bordeaux was all about the brand – now they want to know what is behind the bottle,” he says. The shift, he feels, however, is not that the Bordelais are suddenly discovering their soils – but they’re talking about it. The region’s more monied estates have, however, been artful, managing to guarantee their place at the head of the fine wine table for over 150 years – and to do so, they’ve had to create stories. “There’s too much show – look at our new winery, our limited bottle....” Barton-Sartorius explains. Admittedly, he’s busily building a new cellar himself – although it is unlikely to be unveiled grandly with a row of new gleaming stainless steel tanks and the latest contraptions. Construction of the winery is already underway at Langoa (where both the Léoville and Langoa wines are made), set to be completed in 2022, the most recent update since his grandfather built it. Because of the sheer expense involved, they’ve only made tweaks over the years, but are now in a position to have been able to properly rethink it. The aim is for it to be more sustainable and functional, simplifying the process. Everything will be gravity operated, and the barrels will be stored two floors below ground so that less energy is required to keep them cool. Such concepts might seem standard elsewhere, however with Bordeaux’s high water table (remember that the Médoc was a swamp until the Dutch drained it in the 17th century), it’s difficult to build down rather than up. Winemaking at both Langoa and Léoville remains reassuringly traditional – “not by choice, but because it’s still the best”. There are exceptions, though, and where something is better done by machine, or it avoids a potential risk to workers’ health, they’ll do it – but there’s no compromising on quality to save a few cents. As just one example, they still rack everything by hand using a candle, because they feel it is a softer way to separate the wine from the lees, without exposing the wine to too much oxygen. “Details like this are very important,” Barton-Sartorius says. “But the wine is made in the vineyard.” He, like most vignerons, knows that it’s the quality of the fruit that matters most. “I like to think we’re good – but terroir is making 90% of the job,” he quips. The winery is, in his view, “more about a religion. You have to trust in something. You believe it or not.” It might be easy to be lulled into the sense that everything here is done by rote – simply following the recipe of their forebears, but that’s far from the case. “There’s a reason we do things the way we do – but we still like to challenge what we do,” Barton-Sartorius tells me, taking me through a ream of current and recent experiments, from pumps versus gravity (gravity won) to their decades’ worth of tests with organic vineyard sprays – looking not just at how they impact the cleanliness of fruit at harvest, but the wine’s final flavour. I ask him how he feels about Bordeaux’s status and relevancy today. “It feels like nobody knows it or people forgot about it,” he says. The region – in his view – remains one of the most exciting. He describes how the generation above are tired of people comparing the wines to how cheap they used to be – however is determined that they still offer great value. You can’t buy “Château Margaux as a lunch wine”, but Langoa Barton costs £30 – and “Napa is double, triple the price for the same quality”. And no one is able to hide their excitement when he gets an old bottle of Léoville Barton out the cellar. “We are lucky to have some of the best soils in the world – like Chambertin Grand Cru, the quality is the same – except instead of having two hectares, we have 80 hectares. We are lucky to produce 100,000 bottles of it.” That might make the wines, as he says, “a little less posh and fancy” – but it also means there’s more to go around. Is it a burden – a 200-year history and everything that comes with it? He instantly shakes his head, “It’s an honour – but a big pressure at the same time. I don’t want to be the generation that f***s up everything.” As Barton-Sartorius rushes off to meet the curfew in place under current Covid restrictions, it’s hard to reconcile his undeniable stature in Bordelais society with the down-to-earth character filling my screen. It’s that very lack of pomp and circumstance, an understated modesty, that will likely guarantee that Langoa Barton survives another 200 years. Browse wines from Langoa Barton and Léoville Barton

As Château Langoa Barton marks its 200th anniversary, Sophie Thorpe caught up with Damien Barton-Sartorius – the 10th generation of the Barton family to run the estate – about tradition, terroir and why Bordeaux remains the most exciting wine region in the world 

Talking tradition, terroir and why Bordeaux remains the most exciting wine region in the world with Damien Barton-Sartorius of Langoa and Léoville Barton. 

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