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

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

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

Discovering Baettig’s Maule Cabernet Sauvignon

The Maule mission: Baettig’s new Cabernet Sauvignon

Peat in whisky is divisive – both in terms of its intense flavour profile, but also its sustainability. It has long been used in Scotch whisky, adding complexity to the region’s spirits, but has – over the last two decades – been thrust into the limelight.  Essentially, peat is baby coal – decomposed organic matter, in particular sphagnum moss, that takes thousands of years to form. Historically, these peatlands – wetlands such as bogs and fens – were used for fuel, especially where other energy sources weren’t readily available. Slabs of peat, cut out of the ground and left to dry, were burnt, valued for their ability to (like coal) smoulder steadily. Peat would have originally been used to heat pot stills, giving off intensely scented smoke that distillers eventually looked to capture.  Today, energy sources are largely more sustainable, and peat is used in significantly smaller volumes in the kilning process. After the barley has been malted, it is kilned (essentially dried). For peated whiskies, this is done (at least in part) over a peat-fed fire, so that the barley picks up the flavours from the smoke. This barley is then milled, mashed, fermented and distilled to produce the whisky, with the peat smoke lending flavours that range from soot, smoke and asphalt to seaweed and iodine.   Peatlands have been put in the spotlight with climate change, given their incredible capacity to hold carbon – and release it. As a NatureScot report (2023) states, “Although peatlands cover less than 3% of the world’s surface, it is estimated that they store double the amount of carbon held in global forest biomass and more than 30% of the total global soil carbon store (Bonn et al., 2016). Peatlands make up some 9.5% of the UK’s land area with an estimated carbon store of over 3,200 million tonnes, of which 1,600 million tonnes are estimated to be in Scotland (Bonn et al., 2016).” But while they have an impressive ability to lock away carbon, once peatlands are damaged they release some of that carbon – and the same report estimates that degraded peatlands account for circa 13% of Scotland’s carbon emissions. (It’s worth noting that the same institution – then known as Scottish National Heritage – came under fire in 2020 for its agreement with Diageo, allowing for unlimited peat extraction on Islay.)  Peat accumulates at a mere 1mm a year, so it’s easy to see why peat extraction is a hot topic. Protecting and restoring Scotland’s peatlands are firmly on the national agenda, and in 2020, the Scottish government announced £20 million earmarked for restoration, with a commitment to invest more than £250 million by 2030. Unsurprisingly, it’s put Scotch whisky’s use of peat under the magnifying glass. In reality, a fraction (just 1%) of Scotland’s peat goes to the spirits industry – with horticulture the main culprit.  As Bruichladdich’s Head Distiller Adam Hannett says, however, it has provided “a great lens to look at what we’re doing with peatlands”. For him, “It’s about responsible extraction.” Bruichladdich’s production director is also looking at restoration projects with local farmers. In 2021, two giants of the industry announced significant projects – one from Diageo’s Johnnie Walker, partnering with the RSPB to repair wetlands, and a more ambitious pledge from Beam Suntory, with its Peatland Water Sanctuary Initiative. The project aims to restore twice the volume that the company harvests for use in whisky production, with $4 million invested by 2040. Some producers – such as Nc’nean – have sworn off peat totally, while others are moderating usage, or looking for alternatives.   In Sweden – where peatlands represent up to 20% of the entire land area, Mackmyra’s Blender Lii Johnson explains how there is strict regulation around their usage. They are one of a growing number of producers looking to use peat as another way to explore their terroir. As few producers malt and kiln their own barley today, often this is shipped from Scotland (in turn adding to distilleries’ carbon footprints). At Mackmyra, they instead use Karinmossen – local peat, harvested around 40km south of the distillery – seasoned with juniper twigs. She estimates they use a mere 0.1% of the peat bog, bringing in around 30 cubic metres per year.  Johnson feels that it is the juniper in the Karinmossen, along with the small twigs they add (picked from the woods around the distillery), which give a light citrus, almost medicinal note to their peated malts. In Seattle, Westland has pioneered using local peat, and a process with a backhoe to keep the bog intact and limit their carbon footprint. Co-Founder and Managing Director Matthew Hofmann feels the local peat brings Mezcal-like aromas to their peated whisky, Solum.   This quest for sustainability, combined with emphasis on the concept of terroir in whisky, has had interesting results at distilleries around the world. In Minnesota, Brother Justus sources peat from the Boreal Forest and has trademarked a cold-peating process to produce more delicate aromas. Tasmanian distillery Lark looks to Browns Marsh for its peat (around one cubic metre a year) and has had the International Mire Conservation Group confirm that it is having zero impact on the marsh. Others are looking to use alternatives – New Zealand’s Thomson Whisky uses manuka, while Archie Rose has looked to Australian hardwoods and, perhaps most distinctively, Iceland’s Eimverk sources sheep dung from local farms in lieu of peat.  As we’ve touched on, however, it’s not just what is used to peat malt – but how it’s used, that impacts the flavour of the final whisky. “Duration, in my opinion, is the key,” says Mackmyra’s Johnson, emphasising that it is how long the barley spends in contact with the peat smoke that influences the level of peatiness, while it is only the type of peat (or peat alternative) that will effect the nature of the peat flavour. She explains how whether the barley is peated pre- or post-break is also important: it’s most common to do pre-break, as if it is done post-break, when the barley is largely dry on the surface, it doesn’t pick up phenols – the compounds that produce peat’s smoky flavours. For Mackmyra’s peated barley, it is kilned for one day with peat and then for a second day just with hot air.  There are other factors too however – with fermentation times and cuts often a focus. While longer ferments are generally thought to engender complexity, shorter ferments preserve phenols. There are three factions to a still run – the foreshots, heart and feints. The foreshots and feints, the liquid that runs off first and last, are generally discarded, and the cuts between these determine the character of the heart. Phenols generally come late in the distillation process, so later cuts can be preferential when looking for peat character. For Mackmyra’s Extra Rok 2.0 – an extra-peated malt, they do shorter ferments and a later cut, to preserve the phenols.   It's become fashionable to talk about “ppm” in peated whisky – parts per million (perhaps familiar to wine lovers as the same term that is used for sulphur levels), to measure the level of total phenolic compounds. It’s perhaps unsurprising that the compounds are the same as those for smoke taint, including guaiacol and 4-methylguaiacol, for example, but while in the world of wine these are avoided, distillers of peated whiskies have competed to produce the spirit with the highest. This race to make the peatiest whisky possible was arguably inspired by Compass Box’s Peat Monster (first produced in 2003), building to and culminating with Bruichladdich’s Octomore 8.3 (released in 2017) – a whisky with a remarkable 309ppm, the highest level measured to date (compare this to the first Octomore release which had 131ppm). In this frenzied period, Ardbeg’s Dr Bill Lumsden even buried a barrel of peated whisky in a peat bog (which was released as an NFT in 2022, Ardbeg Fon Fhòid). But while one number is an easy way for whisky drinkers to grasp how peaty a spirit is, not everyone believes it’s helpful.  “We don’t like to talk about those numbers,” says Johnson. She explains how ppms are somewhat farcical, in her view. When the reading is taken varies from distillery to distillery, and therefore provides something that is almost impossible to compare. While most are taken at the mashbill stage, if you are later blending, it’s an estimate at best. Not only that, but the make-up of the phenolic compounds will influence how peaty one 100ppm whisky is versus another 100ppm whisky. For Mackmyra, their pure peated malt sits at around 300ppm, but the mashbill for their peated and extra peated whiskies are respectively around 70 and 140ppm, Johnson reluctantly tells me. The level of phenols can also vary significantly between batches of barley – and at Mackmyra they aim to combat this by doing one kilning a year, distilling all their peated whisky at once and blending the batches to create a consistent product.  It's almost for this exact reason that Bruichladdich created Octomore, Head Distiller Adam Hannett explains. The project’s numbered releases have significantly different levels of peatiness, and were a project inspired by their curiosity to see how far they could push the peat level, as well as their partnership with Bairds maltings, who had batches of barley with irregular phenol numbers.   Although peat is intrinsically associated with Islay’s malts, things aren’t as clear-cut today – and as Hannett says, “You can’t categorise flavour by region”. Islay-based Bruichladdich produces both peated and unpeated whiskies. Originally the distillery made heavily peated malts, switching to unpeated styles in the 1960s, and today makes both. Its Port Charlotte brand was first conceived to capture what Bruichladdich would have been like in the old days, as a heavily peated malt. Intriguingly, Bruichladdich briefly tried using Islay peat, however found that they couldn’t get the phenol levels as high. Hannett highlights that another element in phenol levels is the depth the peat is cut from – with lower levels having more vegetation and therefore more phenols.  For Bruichladdich, when they’re looking for an overtly peated spirit, the quality of the underlying spirit is key – working with the right barley and fermentation times, for example. While peated malts might be thought of as heavy, oily and medicinal, they try to avoid this character. He deliberately won’t delay making a cut in the name of phenols, with that decision based on quality – and the result, he feels, is that, “The essence of the peat smoke is light – it’s barbecued.” For him, it’s about the balance between the peat character and everything else.  For blending specialists, House of Hazelwood, peated whisky “is a tool in our arsenal we can use to build a complex blend”, says Eilidh Muir from their Whisky Blending Team. She emphasises that using peat doesn’t necessarily equate to a smoky whisky, but can contribute something to a blend that is much harder to pin down – but something you’d notice if it wasn’t there. “A whisky dominated by a single flavour is often too one-dimensional,” she says – they too are looking for that fine balance.  Peat is just one element that can be used to shape a spirit – and there remains a certain amount of mystery to its influence. The sustainability question isn’t going away, but – as Bruichladdich’s Hannett says, “I don’t know what the solution is at the moment… but we’re looking for one.” As producers look for an answer, they’re pushing boundaries – experimenting with local sources and alternatives – something that will only benefit whisky-lovers, and the environment.  Browse a range of peated whisky or read more about spirits 

Iodine, seaweed, soot and smoke: for some, peat’s trademark tasting notes are off-putting, for others they’re the pinnacle of fine whisky. Sophie Thorpe spoke to Bruichladdich, House of Hazelwood and Mackmyra about peat, ppms, its potential sustainability problem, how it’s being used today

Bruichladdich, House of Hazelwood and Mackmyra on peat – how it’s used, whether it’s sustainable and the alternatives being employed in whisky today

How whisky distillers are using peat today

The big smoke: peat and whisky

Schrader Cellars is one of Napa’s most decorated producers. The estate’s approach of pairing specific clones with the perfect site to produce the ultimate expression of Napa Cabernet has made it a critics’ darling – and the property is behind some of the most coveted fine wines on the market. To date, Schrader has received an astounding 35 100-point scores.  Schrader Cellers founder Fred Schrader and the estate’s winemaker Thomas Rivers Brown are huge fans of the To Kalon vineyard in Napa’s Oakville and much of the production from Schrader is concentrated on this single site, such is the obsession with the place and conviction in its quality.   To Kalon is home to some of Napa’s oldest vines and best Cabernet Sauvignon. There are more 100-point wines to originate from this vineyard than any other on the planet and many famous names have built their reputation on it. Schrader bottles different clones of Cabernet Sauvignon from this site, highlighting the nuance and personality that Napa Cabernet can achieve.  Stylistically, Schrader’s wines are immense, opulent and plushly textured, underpinned by elegant power. Schrader is high-octane Napa at its finest. It is immediately clear tasting through the range that these are precise wines. High alcohol, high levels of oak, high levels of concentration are all potential red flags when it comes to wine faults (these wines being much more volatile), but these Schrader bottlings are as clean as a whistle.   With a total production of just 2,500 to 4,000 cases each year, this is meticulous winemaking at its finest. It means winemaker Thomas Rivers Brown and his team can keep these high-octane wines protected from potential faults throughout fermentation and élevage, never losing the fruit clarity that so clearly defines these wines.  RBS is made entirely from the Cabernet Clone 337 from Beckstoffer To Kalon. Jason Smith – Schrader’s in-house Master Sommelier – explains that this clone is their most fruit-driven; it can achieve phenomenal levels of ripeness and is known for its bright, fruit-forward style. Tasting the 2017, the wine is super intense, though the power is measured, pulsing with energy that builds beautifully on the palate. The purity of fruit is impressive and the fruit flavours mesh so well with the new oak tones, while a distinct red fruit character dominates. It is beautifully balanced, despite its opulence. Due to Clone 337’s natural style, it spends less time in new oak – around 18-19 months.  CCS is made from Clone 4 Cabernet – also known as the Mendoza clone – in To Kalon. Clone 4 is known for its density on the mid-palate and is much more tannic and extracted than the RBS. The wine really does have a denser core and more intensity compared to Clone 337. The fruit character is also darker and much more brooding. The 2018 still has more to give and is a little clenched at the moment. The warmer 2018 vintage also would potentially emphasise that, but this is also the characteristic of the clone, built for longer ageing.  The Heritage Clone cuvée is made with Clone 31 – the original clone planted by Robert Mondavi in To Kalon. The 2019 is a breath-taking wine. This is perhaps partly due to 2019 being an incredibly expressive vintage, but what is most notable is how the intensity is matched by overriding freshness. The balance of concentration and acidity from Clone 31 (at least in this vintage) really gives the wine a distinct character. It is stunning – and the length is really quite something. Old Sparky is Schrader’s top cuvée – a mix of Fred Schrader’s favourite blocks from To Kalon curated and blended differently each year. To taste the 2012 out of magnum, a wine now with some bottle age, was a rare treat, but also confirmed the precision at work at Schrader. After 10 years in bottle the wine has fully unfurled, the tannins bring structure but are open-knit. The depth is extraordinary. There are the first signs of tertiary development but the aromas are still so pure. It is a heavenly bottle and such is its balance that it is going to age effortlessly, but why resist this any longer, it is perfect now.   Contrasting the three clonal wines side by side, it is undeniable that each of the wines have quite different personalities considering they are all Cabernet from the same vineyard and made by the same winemaker. When it comes to personality, the Heritage Clone bottling really stands out, but matches the other bottlings for its plushness and amazing fruit clarity. Old Sparky, as a blend of clones, also shows how well they can work together. Understanding the effects different clones have on wine flavour, structure, concentration and ageing potential is one more aspect to a wine’s make-up that, while not often so publicly addressed as with Schrader’s bottlings, has played an instrumental part over the last 20 years in building fine wine’s complexity.  The latest vintage from Schrader is released each autumn. Find out more about the estate and browse all current listings of back-vintages, or read more about California 

Top Napa estate Schrader Cellars has championed the use of individual clones of Cabernet Sauvignon in its quest for quality. Tasting through the range with the property’s own Master Sommelier Jason Smith, we explore how these pioneering wines have won the hearts of oenophiles around the world

Talking to Master Sommelier Jason Smith about Schrader Cellars’ use of single-clone To Kalon Cabernet Sauvignon to make the finest Napa wine

Clonal Cabernet Sauvignon with Schrader Cellars

Talking clonal Cabernet with Schrader Cellars

So far, so normal in the Scotch whisky world. What happened next is quite unusual. Not one of the experts – with decades of experience and dozens of book credits to their name – could so much as hazard a guess.   The answer to the seemingly simple but dastardly question dumfounded them all. The as-yet-unidentified liquid was a single grain Scotch whisky that had slumbered in a lone Sherry butt for 53 years. Now almost jet-black in colour, the single grain had taken on incredible, rich notes of dried fruits, roasted coffee, and muscovado toffee – and it was indistinguishable from a greatly aged single malt.   The Cask Trials, which is the name given to this highly unusual liquid that left some of the finest palates awestruck and not-so-secretly hoping for a bottle in their gift bag, is just one of the panoply of independently bottled House of Hazelwood releases from the Gordon family’s private Scotch whisky archives.   Somewhat surprisingly, you won’t find a single malt among them. These rare whiskies, which have been amassed over the past 100 years by the owners of Glenfiddich and The Balvenie, were released to the public for the first time in 2022 in two, painfully scarce, collections. The Charles Gordon Collection (all priced above £3,000 per bottle and aged for at least 40 years), and the Legacy Collection (priced between £950 and £2,000 a bottle) are all well-aged blended Scotch, blended grain and blended malt whiskies that have been matured in the most novel ways.   “Bringing old, expensive and unusual blended whiskies to the market is slightly counterintuitive,” House of Hazelwood Director Jonathan Gibson – who was instrumental in creating the range – candidly tells me. “It's not overly common within the industry.”  It’s also not overly common within the industry to bottle liquids of this age and provenance with playful names such as "Blended at Birth", "Sunshine on Speyside" and "The Old Confectioner’s", in understated packaging at these price points.  The liquids are undeniably scarce (once they’re gone, there really is no more) and old (few are under 40 years of age, and the oldest tops 50 years), but they are undeniably unusual and at odds with the highly successful formulaic approach others have followed of encasing precious liquids in highly ornate, priceless vessels that weigh more than a small child.    “They're not concept releases,” Gibson explains. “Everything is driven by the whisky. The packaging is quite straightforward. It's a nice bottle and it's classically engraved but we haven’t collaborated with the hottest designer. The idea is really just to give the whisky room, provide a platform, without overshadowing it,” he adds.   “Over the past 10-15 years – and it's no bad thing at all – you can see a lot more old age-statement single malts coming onto the market,” Gibson says, “And typically they're very straightforward in terms of their naming. It's distillery name, plus age statement equals a certain financial value.  “The naming of these releases is slightly playful, but actually if you look at them one by one, they're very straightforward. It's not quite a Ronseal, ‘it does exactly what it says on the tin’ approach, but it's not too far away from that. If you said ‘Blended at Birth’, it could be seen as quite playful but it's also quite descriptive and the same for ‘The First Drop’ and ‘Sunshine on Speyside’,” he explains.   It's clear Gibson, who has been involved in the project since the start, has genuine affection for the whiskies and the stories each one has to tell. He and the team are custodians of historical artefacts that the Gordon family have not parted with for the best part of a century.  “The First Drop”, for example, is named as such because it is the first liquid to run from the stills at the Gordon family’s Girvan grain distillery on Christmas day in 1964. This is the first and last time it can be purchased. “There's a real emotional tie from the family to these whiskies,” Gibson explains. “For the current family members, it's their dad who laid down these whiskies and he's not around anymore.  “I think it's actually quite difficult for the family to let some of these whiskies go, even though there's a begrudging acceptance that they can't drink such quantities and it was time they cut the cord and let these whiskies go out into the world.”  “There's a general principle that we're following where the whisky is ready to go when it's ready,” Gibson explains, “so we're not chasing down a 60-year-old age statement just so that we can put a big 60 on the bottle.”   It has been a pleasant surprise for all those involved to witness the reception the House of Hazelwood whiskies have received from an occasionally prickly and vocal audience.    “Sunshine on Speyside had an amazing response and it's one of the least expensive whiskies within our range,” Gibson says delightedly.   “It was selected because of its character and its flavour, and named because it has this amazing mango/ pineapple popsicle fruit character that transports you to sunshine and the Caribbean. It's one of those ones where everyone instantly agreed that it had to go into the first collection.   “I thought that everyone would be drawn to the oldest whisky at tastings but actually, this whisky captured the imagination of a lot of the writers and the trade.”   It’s hard to emphasise quite how unusual these whiskies are, as most releases – old or new – are described in hyperbolic terms.   “Blended at Birth”, which was released as part of the first collection, is a blend of malt and grain whisky that was married and matured as new-make spirit. Today, it is against the Scotch Whisky Regulations’ technical file to produce a whisky in this way, as you now have to age the malt and grain whisky components for a minimum of three years separately before blending them, so any liquids of this ilk on the market are painfully scarce.   “Unusual” and “esoteric” aren’t always necessarily loaded with positive connotations – you might take a sip of said liquid, politely smile and then return to something slightly less unusual and more palatable – but these whiskies have incredible balance and depth of flavour, in part because they are blends and not single malt whiskies.    “These old grains in particular are just unbelievable in terms of the flavour,” Gibson says with unfettered joy. “At a younger age, grain whisky is quite neutral in character but once you're past 30 years, if it's aged well, grain whisky has a luscious, delicious quality which adds so much to the final profile of the Scotch.    “The variation in style is enormous,” he continues. “I thought I understood old grain whisky but on exploring the inventory further you see these amazing grains that you didn't really know you could get.”   These whiskies wouldn’t have existed if it wasn’t for the foresight of the Gordon family  – and two brothers, in particular, who changed the company’s stars during the mid-20th century. The young Charles and Sandy Gordon brought much-needed vim and vigour to what could be a bit of a staid industry in the late 1950s. The pair famously refused to kowtow to demands from their grain whisky supplier – instead pulling the contract and setting up their own grain distillery, Girvan, in the 1960s. Charles – or Charlie as he was known – even forwent the comfort of his own home and instead lived in a caravan on-site during the build, riding a bicycle to stealthily check on the workers’ progress. His unconventional methods clearly paid off as the sizeable distillery (which still stands today) was built in a record nine-month period.  During their tenure, the duo also interrogated every aspect of whisky-making from distillation to maturation, resulting in the bold decision to employ an on-site coppersmith and cooper – which are still in situ at many of the William Grant distilleries today – to give the family more control. They were a formidable pair and the business arguably wouldn’t have survived some of the challenging periods in Scotch whisky’s history had it not been for their fortitude.     “There's something about family ownership that means you have a bit more luxury to maybe indulge some of your creative whims,” Gibson says with a wry smile. “This independence enabled them to explore ideas that might have been hard for others to justify to their board of shareholders.”  When other producers would have been forced to make very difficult decisions in order to survive those darker years, the larger, independent William Grant would have been slightly more insulated. Out of curiosity alone, they would have been able to hold on to barrels of maturing liquid and see how they developed over time.  These are the barrels that the House of Hazelwood team – and by extension us – now have access to. Each one has an incredible story – and an even better depth of flavour. With eight releases each year as a minimum – and the suggestion of some partnership releases to come as well – there is an audience, who count the great and the good among their numbers, desperate to venture into this unexplored and curious realm of blended Scotch whisky.  Read more Editorial and browse all whisky 

Few Scotch whisky releases have incited as much fervour and intrigue as the House of Hazelwood’s independent bottlings from the Grant family’s private cask library. Holly Motion caught up with Jonathan Gibson to discover why this emporium of curiosities is so tantalisingly unusual

Exploring the success of the independent bottlings from the Gordon family’s extraordinary private collection

The story behind the House of Hazelwood

House of Hazelwood: selling the family jewels

To Kalon. For any Californian winemaker, those two words represent the Holy Grail. This vineyard in Oakville, Napa, is undeniably the region’s most famous. Perched at the foot of the Mayacamas, west of Highway 29, this site has been recognised for producing fine wine since the 19th century. Literally translating as the “highest beauty” or “highest good” from Greek, today To Kalon is home to some of Napa’s oldest vines and best Cabernet Sauvignon. “This is a Grand Cru – a premier property,” Paul Hobbs tells me, a winemaker who has a long history with the site. As a grad student at UC Davis, Hobbs would swipe the second crop from a vineyard on Walnut Drive – what happened to be BV4, Beaulieu Vineyard’s original block of To Kalon. At Mondavi – the largest holder of the hallowed site – he got to walk the rows more legitimately, and used those holdings to build Opus One – the company’s joint venture with Ch. Mouton Rothschild (although the association with the site has generally been played down). Under his own label, he’s been making wine from the Beckstoffer section of the vineyard since 1999 – and his wines, along with those from Schrader, were some of the early bottlings that put the vineyard firmly on the fine wine map, earning high scores – and lots of attention. Indeed, it was a Paul Hobbs wine that made Tor Kenward believe the vineyard was truly special. André Tchelistcheff had spoken to Kenward about BV4, but it was one of Hobbs’s bottlings that made him realise its potential. He started working with Beckstoffer plots from 2005. 
“It’s not visually impressive; it doesn’t have that ‘wow factor’,” Kenward tells me. But start digging below the surface, and you realise that you’re in the “tenderloin of Napa”, with old creek beds that run through the site. It’s an alluvial fan that runs down from the Mayacamas, sitting almost on a bench – with very little elevation. But the soils here are varied, with deep, well-drained gravels that make it perfect for Cabernet Sauvignon.  Andy Erickson – a winemaker whose resume includes Screaming Eagle, Harlan, Dalla Valle, Mayacamas and many more – first worked with the site in 2012, on a single-barrel charity lot for an auction at his children’s school. When Constellation (owners of Mondavi and co-owners of Opus One) called him to give him the chance to work with it again in 2016, he didn’t hesitate. That year, he made the first wine for the To Kalon Vineyard Company – a project that is a revival of the brand created by H.W. Crabb (known variously as Henry Walker, Hiram Walker or Hamilton Walker Crabb) in 1886, the vineyard’s godfather. “Most people know the recent history of the vineyard, and the acclaim of the wines from the past 15-20 years. But the vineyard was known for producing remarkable wines all the way back in the late 19th century. Clearly there is something there,” Erickson says.  But this vineyard is weighed down with controversy – its borders endlessly debated, with producers vying for use of the To Kalon name.  The history of the To Kalon Vineyard It’s impossible to look at To Kalon today without tracing its origins. H.W. Crabb came west from Ohio during the Gold Rush, spending six months digging in the Sierras before settling in Oakville in 1868, buying 240 acres of land at the corner of Highway 29 and Walnut Drive. He planted a wide range of crops, first making wine in 1872 under the name Hermosa Vineyards (“hermosa” meaning “beautiful” in Spanish). In 1881, he acquired another 119 acres from Eliza Yount (whose name lives on in Yountville). On land to the west of his plots, owned by John Davis, he planted additional vines – buying the fruit off Davis to feed his increasing production. In 1886, he gave his company a new name: “To Kalon Vineyard Company” – and the legend was born. Crabb reportedly said, “The name To-Kalon… means the highest beauty, or the highest good, but I try to make it mean the boss vineyard.”
 To Kalon Vineyard Company rapidly became one of the region’s largest – and most well-respected – wine producers. His wines started winning awards at competitions around the world, and he was the first to start selling wine along the East Coast. He had planted a huge range of grapes – around 400 different varieties, including Malvasia, Riesling, Chasselas, Muscat, Refosco and Cabernet Sauvignon, with the latter in particular thriving. In 1889, he bought 168 acres on the hillside to the south, close to where Harlan is now based, although it was never planted with vines during Crabb’s lifetime. In 1891, Crabb bought Davis’s 135 acres (from which he’d already been buying the fruit). In total, Crabb had more than 359 acres.  But his success wasn’t to last – phylloxera arrived in the late 19th century, and recession along with it. In 1898, Crabb sold the 135 acres he’d bought just eight years earlier – and died one year later in 1899. The vines were ripped out, replaced by cherry trees under David Perry Doak in 1911, who in turn purchased another 500 acres of vines from John Benson, south of the border of the original To Kalon (across Oakville Grade Road), which is now all owned by Constellation (used for Mondavi or Opus One). After Crabb’s death, what remained of the To Kalon Vineyard Company was sold to ES Churchill at auction, taken over by his widow Mary Churchill when he died in 1903. Wines continued to be sold under the label until the arrival of Prohibition in 1920. The winery reopened briefly to sell wine in bulk in the 1930s, but the winery building burnt down in 1939. Four years later, Martin Stelling bought most of the property – 337 acres – and replanted. He sold 90 acres to Beaulieu Vineyard (the block that became known as BV4 – and was the plot used by André Tschelistcheff made Georges de Latour Reserve). In 1944, Stelling bought an additional 1,700 acres – the McGill Ranch, which included the parcels owned by Doak (both Crabb’s 1891 parcel and the 500 acres area south of Oakville Grade Road). He named the entire property Tokalon Vineyards, and in 1945 planted Sauvignon Blanc in I Block – the legendary parcel that is today used for Mondavi’s prized, old-vine To Kalon Fumé Blanc.  Tragedy struck again, however, with Stelling killed in a car crash in 1950. The property was once more divided, sold off in pieces by his widow.   
Rosa Mondavi, along with her sons Robert and Peter, purchased 132 hectares in 1962 for the family winery, Charles Krug. After Robert struck out on his own, he bought 12 acres for himself in 1966 (that remained in the Stelling family) – in the northeast corner of the 1968 Crabb parcel, where the Mondavi winery and visitor centre remains today. He bought a further 230 acres in 1968, and then took the Charles Krug section from the rest of his family in 1978. The first time the To Kalon name appeared on a Mondavi label – and the first time since the demise of the To Kalon Vineyard Company – was on the 1986 Fumé Blanc Reserve. The I Block – the Sauvignon Blanc vines planted by Stelling in 1945 – were singled out for the first time in 1995, for the vines’ 50th anniversary. The first red – Mondavi’s To Kalon Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon – appeared with the 1997 vintage. The To Kalon Vineyard’s terroir As already mentioned, To Kalon is largely an alluvial fan that stretches down from the Mayacamas to Highway 29. It is, however, a large piece of land (the exact area depending on where you draw its borders – see below for more on the controversy around this) – and as such the terroir varies considerably. The soils are richer downslope, closer to the Highway; poorer and better-drained higher up (where many – including Hobbs and Kenward – prefer to be). The gravel composition varies with the subtle slope differences and underground water.  “It’s like any cut of meat – there are better parts than others,” Hobbs says. With over 300 original acres (at least), this is a substantial vineyard (for comparison, Clos Vougeot is 125 acres). “It’s great if you have the name To Kalon, but could be pretty average stuff.” The Beckstoffer section is numbered and lettered: A to F, from road to mountain, with A1 south of A2. For Hobbs, he likes the blocks closer to the mountains, and those that aren’t shaded by the huge walnut trees that line Walnut Drive (to the south). Hobbs noted how much warmer Oakville is than Yountville – something he used to notice when driving in the evening home from Oakville to Yountville. The mountains block the sea breezes, meaning that the cooling effect happens, but more slowly. This is partly what makes it such a special place. Tor Kenward similarly prefers some of the middle blocks in B and C, where there are some of the vineyard’s oldest vines, but with lower vigour, as well as the leaner soils closest to the mountains. As for the MacDonald or Horton block: “You could argue it’s every bit as good as Andy’s piece,” Kenward says. It, along with the Detert block, was planted in the 1940s – and in fact those two blocks are now home to some of the valley’s oldest vines. Even closer to the mountains, the gravel content is even higher, and the fruit is picked up to a month earlier than elsewhere in To Kalon. Although until now most of that fruit has been sold to Constellation, there will be opportunity for others to work with it as that contract comes to an end.   
The Beckstoffer plots of To Kalon Andy Beckstoffer bought Beaulieu Vineyard’s block, BV4, in 1993. He’d just lost a prized site – Liparita, on Howell Mountain – when the 89 acres of BV4 came up. He’d worked the site for years and leapt at the opportunity to buy it. “It’s a mystery to me why they sold it,” Paul Hobbs told me, although word on the grapevine was that they needed to liquidate funds – indeed, it was around the same time that Mondavi went public for similar reasons. Phylloxera was once more raging through the region thanks to the widely used, non-resistant AXR rootstock.  The BV4 block was in bad shape when Beckstoffer took it over and he had to replant the entire site. Paul Hobbs was one of the first to use fruit from Beckstoffer’s plots, starting to work with him from 1995/96. “Andy didn’t really realise he had a Grand Cru property,” Hobbs says. Hobbs was given free rein to pick his plots, opting for four or five plots on the western side, furthest from Highway 29. The vineyard produced its first fruit in 1997; 1998 was a difficult year; but in 1999 Hobbs was able to produce his first To Kalon bottling (although it couldn’t say so on the label). “I was loathe to tell people how young it was – but the quality was so good,” Hobbs says, still starry eyed thinking about it. “It was only four years old, but producing stunning wines.” Most fruit is sold on its weight, by the ton, but Andy Beckstoffer created a different model – one that is intricately tied to the vineyard’s name and reputation – and arguably has increased its reputation. Producers who use his fruit pay him 175 times the bottle price per ton, with a ceiling at $50,000/ton; tying the value of the fruit to the value of the final wine. “For producers like me in those days, when I didn’t have the land or ability to buy land, Andy was a saviour of sorts,” Hobbs tells me. “Because I had access to one of the top vineyards in all of Napa. I had to pay – but at least I had access.”
  The To Kalon controversy: how big is it? And is it a brand or a place? Mondavi trademarked the name “To Kalon” in 1988, and “To Kalon Vineyard” in 1994. This gave them the right to use the name on any wine from anywhere – even beyond California – and meant that no one else could use the name, even if they had plots in what was considered the original To Kalon vineyard. The first Beckstoffer bottlings only mentioned the name on the back label; but in 2000, Schrader decided to put it on the front label. The now famous lawsuit commenced. “They shouldn’t have been able to trademark it,” Hobbs tells me. “Anyone from the original To Kalon estate should have the right to the trademark as well.” In 2002, Mondavi sued Schrader for using the name on their Beckstoffer bottling. Countersuing ensued, from both Schrader and Beckstoffer (the latter arguing that Mondavi was misleading clients by using the name for wines made with fruit from beyond the vineyard’s original borders). A settlement – the details of which remain a mystery – was made in 2003, but wines made from the Beckstoffer section can now bear the name “Beckstoffer To Kalon”.  Constellation bought Mondavi in 2004, and then Schrader in 2017. Reportedly attempts were made to trademark “To Kalon Wine Company”, “To Kalon Vineyard Company” and “Rooted in To Kalon” – something, unsurprisingly, that Beckstoffer objected to. The legal battle continues today, with a fight over the naming of To Kalon Creek, and The Vineyard House – owned by Jeremy Nickel, which sits on the 1889 hillside section – arguing for the use of the name as well.  The borders of the vineyard are a constant source of debate – and given the history above, you can see why.  Andy Beckstoffer considers the original To Kalon to be only the parcels bought by Crabb in 1868 and 1881. The 1889 parcel was never planted by Crabb, so most aren’t inclined to include it as “original To Kalon”. The Detert and MacDonald plots, however, aren’t acknowledged by Beckstoffer, but were planted – and, albeit more briefly than other plots, owned by Crabb. Then there’s the “Stelling extension”, the southern section added after Crabb’s death under Martin Stelling, that Mondavi considers part of the original vineyard, but some others do not. Given the sums fruit – and wine – bearing the To Kalon name command, it’s unsurprising that its usage is so disputed.  
To Kalon: what does the wine taste like?  So what makes the wine so special? Why do winemakers fight for the fruit, and consumers for the bottles they produce? Despite the sheer variety of the site, Tor Kenward is adamant that there’s a continuity, with a profile that that site gives Cabernet. He describes it as “wall-to-wall carpeting”, a plushness to the mid-palate, a softness, that means the Cabernet isn’t hard-edged. “There’s something about the ground there,” Andy Erickson agrees. For him, To Kalon has a distinct tannin texture – not as rugged as hillside sites, but richer, with a generosity in the wines. “They are dark, aromatic, but very broad and polished,” he says. “I think the vineyard brings forward many of the complexities of Cabernet Sauvignon, but delivers it in a very approachable and elegant package.” “It’s very identifiable,” Paul Hobbs says. “It’s a structural and textural thing mostly. It’s a freshness to this sort of tannin. It has grip, but it has this uplifting character.” He explains it like a skipping stone – you think you’ve got it, then another wave comes, the wine shifting on the palate. For him, one of the most distinctive things is that Cabernet sings alone here – much better than blended with other varietals. “It didn’t need the help of its brothers,” he says. “It’s a wine that’s at peace with itself… It doesn’t shock you, except in its beauty.”
 Who owns what today in To Kalon? Robert Mondavi: From the original 12 acres, Mondavi now owns 328 acres of To Kalon, including the Stelling extension. Has the rights to use the To Kalon name.  Opus One: The 35-acre Q Block was sold to the joint venture by Mondavi in 1981, with K block acquired in 2008. Although under Constellation’s ownership they could likely use the To Kalon name, Opus One doesn’t trade on this. (To Kalon Vineyard Company uses fruit from Constellation’s holdings, both Opus One and Mondavi plots.) UC Davis: a research block that was key in developing phylloxera-resistant rootstock
Beckstoffer: 89 acres, with fruit sold to a range of producers (currently 23), including Paul Hobbs, Tor Kenward and Schrader. Producers can use the name “Beckstoffer To Kalon” on their labels. MacDonald (sometimes referenced as Horton): Graeme and Alex MacDonald are the current generation, owning 21 acres of the 1891 parcel. When their great-grandparents bought the site in 1954 (along with the Detert plot – see below – from Caroline Stelling, Martin Stelling’s widow) it was planted with cherry trees. Advised by Robert Mondavi, the MacDonalds planted vines. From 1966, they sold grapes to Mondavi – holding some back for personal use from 2004, with the first MacDonald commercial release in 2010 (just 92 cases). Although historically 75% of production here has been sold to Mondavi, I’m led to believe that the contract is coming to a close and won’t be renewed. The MacDonalds can’t use the To Kalon name on their wines currently. Detert: Today owned by Tom Garrett, a cousin of the MacDonalds. This 25-acre plot was bought in 1954, along with the MacDonald parcel – divided between the buyers’ children giving the two plots today. There’s more Cabernet Franc in this section. Most of the fruit is sold to Mondavi (with the contract, as for MacDonald, coming to an end soon), and Detert can’t use the To Kalon name on their wines. The Vineyard House: Many dispute whether or not this is original To Kalon; it’s on the hillside area purchased (but not planted) by Crabb in 1891. This plot is owned by Jeremy Justin Nickel, who is the son of the late Far Niente proprietor Gil Nickel. It’s thought to have first been planted with vines in 1980. They can’t use the To Kalon name on their wines, but have taken court action over the issue.  Wineries with To Kalon bottlings  NB Not all of these will bear the To Kalon name on the label Mondavi Winery, Opus One, To Kalon Vineyard Company, MacDonald, Detert, Alpha Omega, Amici, Alejandro Bulgheroni Estate, AXR, Bacio Divino, B Cellars, Boich Family, Bounty Hunter, Cain Concept, Carter cellars, Ch Boswell, Jacquelynn, Kitchak, Cliff Lede, Morlet, Realm Cellars, Tor Kenward, Paul Hobbs, Schrader Cellars Read more Editorial 

The Napa Valley has many incredible vineyards, but To Kalon undoubtedly sits at the top of the tree. As the To Kalon Vineyard Company releases their latest vintage, Sophie Thorpe delves into the story of this iconic site – from its 19th century origins to the fight to use its hallowed name

Explore the history of To Kalon vineyard – and what makes it such an iconic site today. We spoke to Andy Erickson, Paul Hobbs and Tor Kenward to find out more

The tale of Napa’s iconic To Kalon vineyard

The tale of To Kalon

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

A guide to the white wines of Jura

Your guide to the white wines of the Jura

Last year Alessandro Mori completed his 47th vintage at Il Marroneto in Montalcino. Now aged 60, Il Marroneto has been his life’s work. Despite the challenges, his passion for winemaking has never wavered and when he speaks about the estate and its wines today, he sounds as giddy as the boy who first arrived at the winery, aged just 14. He discovered Il Marroneto in 1975. At that time, it was just a farm on the northern slopes of Montalcino, with a few vines growing alongside olive trees and a small orchard. His father was so taken by the view – stretching out 60km across the valley floor towards Siena, his hometown – he bought the property the next day. The entire family – a young Mori, his brother and their parents – would spend their weekends tending the vineyard, which they planted on arrival. Initially just half a hectare, this site would become Madonna delle Grazie – Brunello’s most lauded vineyard today. Those first few years working alongside his family were some of Mori’s happiest days – and would shape the rest of his life. Il Marroneto remained a family hobby, and when he finished school, Mori became a lawyer. It was only in 1994, aged 33, that he decided life behind a desk wasn’t for him. “I had to express myself,” says Mori, “so I decided to continue to live the life I started with my parents and my brother.” He moved to Montalcino with his wife and new-born baby, living and sleeping in one room. At the time, Il Marroneto was only producing 3,300 bottles a year. It was all very financially tight at the beginning. “It became a big problem for me,” admits Mori. “I only slept two to three hours a night, kept awake thinking how could I make this work? I was full of worry, but also I was happy because I loved my work. I really loved my work.” Mori explains how this lifestyle change brought him a welcome sense of freedom. “There is soul in what I do every day,” he says. “There is a soul to the region too. This work gives me freedom, freedom from all the everyday life lived today. The order you have to follow. I am free from this in my mind.” But Mori’s passion is more than just the freedom it has given him. He’s always felt the work he was doing, the wine he was producing, was something important. He was carrying on a tradition that stretches back thousands of years and that brought a sense of purpose and responsibility. After all these years Mori remains amazingly humble considering his success. If you have ever read an interview with Mori or had the pleasure of visiting him, he never fails to mention his debt to his teachers. These two wise men – the late Mario Cortevesio and Giulio Gambelli – are legends in winemaking circles, and they taught Mori everything he needed to know to make great Sangiovese. Mori was fortunate to have such mentors – especially when most were looking outside the region for expertise. As Brunello di Montalcino gained recognition, investment flooded the region. There were fewer than 50 wineries when Mori first arrived, but now there are 250. “The first thing these people do is look for a doctor in oenology and agronomy – to plant the vineyard and build the cellar,” says a bemused Mori.  New arrivals, looking to make their mark, rarely speak to people who have grown grapes in the region for decades, instead hiring outsiders – many of whom have never even been to Tuscany. “Now these people are using concrete eggs, amphora and oak from Austria,” he laughs, “but no one goes to the old people that live here and asks them, what is the way of our forefathers?” But that is exactly what his father did – looking to the village elders. In return they got the eyes and ears of first Cortevesio and then Gambelli. Coretvesio and Gambelli had an extraordinary influence on winemaking in Tuscany. “They were like two brothers,” says Mori. “Born in the same year, they studied together, they worked their whole lives together and they died within two months of each other.” They would split their time between Chianti and Montalcino. For Mori, they were his most important teachers when it came to making Sangiovese. Despite Cortevesio largely focusing on the Chianti region, for the first seven years at Il Marroneto it was Cortevesio who was their consultant (due to a friendship with Mori’s father). Mori remembers that when he was just 14, Cortevesio used to visit the farm and share his wisdom with him and his brother. “To make good wine, you need respect,” Cortevesio would say. “Respect, respect, respect – everywhere there must be respect! Respect the animals, the plants, the place, the people. You are starting to grow a grape that took more than 3,000 years to become perfect in this area, so you respect the grape!” Cortevesio was adamant it was the wonders of Sangiovese that lay behind the region’s great artists (“the real important guys that passed before us,” says Mori); Sangiovese had fuelled Da Vinci to paint La Giaconda (the Mona Lisa), Boccaccio to write Decamerone and Giotto to design the Campanile – the iconic gothic belltower of Florence’s cathedral. Speaking with vignerons today, often the emphasis is on work in the vineyard – believing that is where great wine is made. But Mori likes to contradict that claim: “Wine is born in the cellar,” he says defiantly. “The hand of the man, his actions, are the secret of everything. I use the same techniques as our forefathers. They didn’t have yeasts to start fermentations. They didn’t have sulphur. They used natural methods.” Mori explains that Cortevesio and Gambelli believed it was possible to make precise wines using traditional methods – but only if the vigneron was fastidious in everything they did. Right from the start it was Cortevesio’s influence – and his mantra “passion, precision and patience” – that promoted such a traditional approach at Il Marroneto. To make wine in this way requires a lot of hard work in the winery – indeed Cortevesio was fastidious about cleanliness in the winery. Mori remembers constantly cleaning barrels and the cellar to try to win his respect. In the early days, despite Mori’s best attempts, Cortevesio would still think the cellar was dirty. He would taste the wine and say, “It’s tired.” As Cortevesio got older, he suffered with pain in his throat following an operation on his neck. It became difficult for him to speak and so he rarely did. He famously used to communicate with a smile, recalls Mori, and even that was difficult for him. Mori remembers the day he first smiled after tasting Il Marroneto, calling the wine “precise”, the finest compliment any vigneron could hope to hear when judging a wine, Mori believes. While Cortevesio became largely mute, Gambelli – who hunted almost daily – was completely deaf. After 10 years, Gambelli took over consulting for Il Marroneto (from 1985) and continued to visit up until 1993. Like Cortevesio, Gambelli had a maniacal approach to cleanliness and extolled monastic-like patience when ageing the wine. Mori was amazed by how this duo – one mute, the other deaf – could communicate. While both famous for saying very little, what they did say mattered – and their legacy, the lessons they shared with Mori, lives on today. After 17 years of tutelage under Cortevesio and Gambelli, Mori went his own way. “The wine of Marroneto remains the wine of Cortevesio and Gambelli because I am their pupil,” says Mori. “I continue to make the wine as they taught me – but with my hand.” The biggest change for Mori was the introduction of the Madonna delle Grazie cuvée. Often considered the region’s finest wine, it is the only Brunello to have been awarded multiple 100-point scores from the Wine Advocate – and universally loved by critics and afficionados around the world. The wine comes from the estate’s oldest and original vineyard – the one he worked as a child – and is made completely differently to Marroneto’s classic Brunello. Mori continues to make the traditional Brunello exactly as he did when he was 14. This “true” Brunello “requires a lot of movement in order to extract the best parts of the grape – the pulp that sits one millimetre under the skin,” explains Mori, “this is where you find the best anthocyanins, the polyphenolics, the complex fruity smells. The first 48 hours following harvest extracting these are key.” Mori and his team are up for two days solid, constantly working the must. Mori comically compares it to the Big Bang. “The grape material explodes, the material goes everywhere; it is the birth of the universe, and the wine is born.” After 48 hours, they stop and the must – thanks to all the agitation and natural humidity created in the winery – immediately starts fermenting. After just a few hours, the must has heated up to 34-35˚C and sometimes reaches 40˚C. These are not temperatures ever mentioned in modern wineries, but Mori knows what he is doing. “Sangiovese likes to fly high like an eagle when fermenting,” he says, “it is important for the characteristics of the Sangiovese chemically to fix the volatile smells.” At these sorts of temperatures, the fermentation is over in a week. Mori deliberately makes Madonna delle Grazie completely differently – and contradicts all that he does with his classic Brunello cuvée, such is the quality of the grapes from this special vineyard. When the grapes arrive at the winery, the fruit is left alone. The fermentation is much slower and much cooler (between 28-30˚C), lasting 20-25 days. It is, in short, totally the opposite. “With the Madonna delle Grazie, to our surprise, we found no power,” says Mori, “but a complexity in which the Sangiovese is similar to that of Pinot Noir – the technique brings elegance.” “Every part of the Madonna is high (the acidity, the tannins, the alcohol, the polyphenolics, the anthocyanins, the fruity characters, all are high, but without the power –  altogether it makes a complex wine. Together it makes for an extraordinary equilibrium.” Mori has been perfecting his techniques over the last 27 years, but two years ago it was his turn to become the teacher as his son – Iacopo – joined him in the winery during the pandemic. “Now I try to let my son learn this kind of traditional winemaking – not simply as Gambelli and Cortevesio taught me, but Gambelli, Cortevesio with the hand of Alessandro,” he says. “Today, he is more careful in the cellar than I am. Sometimes a little too much,” laughs Mori. He has obviously taught him well. Mori has also been imparting his knowledge to Emilio Parri – his cellar hand and protégé, who has been working in the cellar since he was 18. Overriding everything, Mori’s job as a teacher, he believes, is to “transmit the passion”. Mori still has a strong bond with his wine – he talks to it every day. When leaving the winery he shouts down to the cellar – “Ciao ragazzi, see you tomorrow!” Mori’s underlying philosophy for making great wine is to make wine with sentiment. “You have a relationship with the wine – the more you give to the wine, it gives it you back 10 times more. You see the wine grow up like a child, it is fantastic.” Encouraging this relationship, encouraging both Iacopo and Parri to fall in love with the work and the wine is his goal. With Mori’s support, his son has created a new cuvée, the stunning Rosso di Montalcino Selezione Iacopo. Iacopo took different proportions of wines ageing in the cellar to concoct his own blend. The 2019 was the first limited release and has already been highly praised by the critics (Eric Guido wrote, “The word ‘wow’ does not do this justice.”). While Mori thinks his son could afford to relax a bit and “take it easy” – the skills he and Parri are showing in the cellar means perhaps it is Mori, after 47 years, who can now start to relax. While Mori contemplates his retirement, albeit just for 30 seconds, he knows he will never really leave. Like Gambelli and Cortevesio before him, he will share the ways of his forefathers with anyone in Montalcino who will listen. Explore all current Il Marroneto listings or read more Editorial 

Alessandro Mori has produced every vintage in Il Marroneto’s 47-year history. As he prepares to hand this legacy to the next generation, we caught up with him to pause and consider his teachers – two legendary Tuscan figures that helped establish Il Marroneto as one of Montalcino’s top estates

Alessandro Mori of Il Marroneto’s reflects on his legacy and that of two Tuscan legends, Gambelli and Cortevesio.

The savants of Sangiovese, Il Marroneto

The savants of Sangiovese: Il Marroneto

From January 2021, the Bordeaux and Bordeaux Supérieur appellations permit the use of several new varieties – Touriga Nacional, Marselan, Castets and Arinarnoa, as well as two white grapes, Alvarinho and Liliorila, the theory being they’ll help shield the region from the ever-growing threat of global warming. As the region heats up, or more importantly dries up, some of the Bordeaux mainstay varieties are suffering from rising alcohol levels, disease and water stress. The new varieties all possess properties that counter climate change – natural high acidities, resistance to mildew and later budburst to offset the risk of spring frosts. While the recent changes only affect wines under the more basic Bordeaux appellations, are they paving the way for a wider relaxation in the region’s rules? And does that mean the flavour profile and identity of Bordeaux’s top châteaux are about to change? For Pierre-Olivier Clouet at Ch. Cheval Blanc there is concern over the potential of the varietal blend (encépagement) changing. “We believe that the encépagement is part of the DNA and the identity of the estate,” says Clouet. “Planting some Touriga Nacional, Grenache, Syrah at Cheval Blanc… it seems ridiculous.” While plenty of winemakers up and down the Médoc are dismissive of the idea, the warming climate is not selective – and even the top terroirs are going to be affected. The 2020 vintage was the hottest on record when you look at the temperatures throughout the 12-month period. The summer was also one of the driest, with not a single drop of rain in some regions for over three months. Pomerol, according to Omri Ram of Ch. Lafleur, is into its fifth consecutive year of drought and these weather patterns are becoming the norm in the region. Clearly some terroirs are better prepared for climate change than others. The clay soils of Saint-Estèphe and the limestone bedrock of Saint-Emilion, for instance, survived 2020’s drought virtually unscathed. These water-retaining soils are adept at locking in moisture and slowly releasing it through the drier months. But the deep gravel soils of the Left Bank are putting vines in real danger during long periods of drought. Lorraine Watrin from Ch. Montrose outlined the huge difficulties faced at their other Saint-Estèphe estate Ch. Tronquoy-Lalande, where (unlike Montrose) the estate’s gravel soils go down a staggering 10 metres. The drainage is so good on these soils that when there is no rain, the vines really suffer. Montrose is more fortunate, having just 1.5 metres of gravel sitting on a bed of moisture-retaining clay. But ongoing droughts are going to pose real problems for deeper gravel vineyards in the future – and solutions need to be found. Despite the obvious threat of drought, speaking with top estates on the Left Bank, they remain fairly comfortable about their future, even though their best soils are on raised gravel beds. The reason why? Cabernet Sauvignon. As temperatures have increased and the level of rainfall has dropped, Cabernet Sauvignon has proved its mettle. The vine is incredibly resistant to disease and its long ripening cycle has seen the variety thrive in the longer, more intense summers. Nicolas Glumineau from Ch. Pichon Comtesse is a big fan of Cabernet Sauvignon and has continued to increase its role in his wines’ make-up over the last decade. “Even if the temperature increases, Cabernet Sauvignon will still be very adaptive to the Left Bank,” he says. In their 2020, the wine consisted of 77% Cabernet Sauvignon with a further 7% Cabernet Franc, Merlot representing just 17% of the blend. Glumineau is not alone, in fact amongst all the producers I spoke to, there was little to no concern over Cabernet Sauvignon’s future and its dominance in their blends in the long term. Being such a large wine-growing region and with plenty of investment, Bordeaux is a hotbed for change, but Ducru-Beaucaillou's Bruno Borie thinks the addition of new varieties is premature. He reminds us that Bordeaux is one of the more moderate climates in Europe. It wasn’t that long ago his father was forced to plant more Merlot to avoid having to chaptalise the wines (add sugar to the must) because the Cabernet Sauvignon wasn’t ripe enough. “Without being arrogant and with all sincerity, we benefit from having Cabernet Sauvignon riper much more often than in the past,” he says. “Bordeaux is the northern limit for ripening the grape and here there is no need to replace it.”  Merlot’s future is perhaps a little less assured on the Left Bank, as Borie admits – but he believes the alternative to Merlot is likely to be already permitted varieties, rather than new ones. “Petit Verdot and Cabernet Franc should keep us going another 50 to 70 years at least,” he says. Asked why not just switch to 100% Cabernet Sauvignon, Borie believes that however hot or dry it gets, the low-lying, clay riverbed vineyards would never ripen Cabernet. Despite concerns for Merlot’s future, grown in the right places the variety continues to thrive on the Left Bank. Just look at its success in 2020, a very hot vintage. Rainfall at just the right time helped retard alcohol levels in the Merlot. For those whose cooler Cabernet Sauvignon parcels didn’t fully mature, their Merlot replaced it and played a more significant role in the blend and saved the vintage. The grape is still fulfilling its role as the balancing variety in today’s Bordeaux blend. Despite Cabernet Sauvignon’s and Merlot’s impressive performances of late, plenty of experiments are going on, even at the very top estates. Ch. Lafite-Rothschild is already trialling massal selection of their own vines and new varieties including Touriga Nacional, Marselan and Malbec. For the moment it is too early for Lafite to draw any conclusions, but they’re keeping an open mind.  While the major estates aren’t switching up the blend yet, producers are looking at peripheral Bordeaux varieties as potential alternatives. On paper, Malbec seems a good option. Before phylloxera, Malbec was the most planted variety in Bordeaux, but never really made a comeback after the outbreak. But seeing Malbec’s success in the hotter, drier mountain valleys of Argentina, could it rise back to prominence with global warming? Nicolas Audebert – winemaker at Rauzan-Ségla and previously at Cheval des Andes in Mendoza – is not so sure. Malbec in French literally means ‘”bad beak” or “bad nose”, thanks to the negative reputation the variety had in Bordeaux, even when more dominant in the blend. “Prior to phylloxera, Malbec was used as a ‘filler‘ grape,” Audebert says, “used to balance out problems in the vineyard – namely providing more colour and ripeness to the wine.” Audebert compares it to Pinot Meunier in Champagne, whose role is similar. “Pinot Meunier is less sensitive to frost, so it is planted in the more frost-prevalent lower slopes, rather than the best terroirs. It never had the chance to reach the potential of Chardonnay or Pinot Noir. Malbec suffered the same issue.” Audebert has planted Malbec at Ch. Berliquet in Saint-Emilion. He believes Malbec on clay could be extremely interesting and is keen to see how it works in the blend. But Malbec has its problems: it’s very sensitive to coulure (flowers not developing into berries, therefore producing lower yields), as well as mildew. Of the Bordeaux varieties, it responded the least well to grafting – hence why it wasn’t replanted widely in Bordeaux after phylloxera. Audebert reminds us that Argentina didn’t have these problems: “Low humidity in Mendoza meant mildew was not a problem in spring and there was no grafting, as the region used flood irrigation to battle phylloxera.” Since these remain challenges for the variety in Bordeaux, he doesn’t see it becoming more dominant in the future. Many wineries up and down the Médoc are lowering the proportion of Merlot in their blends, opting instead for more Cabernet Franc. “Blending just 5% of Cabernet Franc in with Merlot can be an effective method of lowering the alcohol, as well as adding freshness,” says John Kolasa (ex Director of Ch. Canon ). “It is something Pétrus did with the 2019 vintage. Look at the success of Ch. Figeac in 2019 – a third Cabernet Franc, a third Merlot and a third Cabernet Sauvignon. This is a big increase of Cabernet Franc in the blend and is performing better in the warming climate.” There aren’t many wineries in Bordeaux not increasing the Cabernet Franc plantings in their vineyards, given its improved performance in a warming climate. Pichon Comtesse, L’Eglise Clinet and of course long-term believers Cheval Blanc and Lafleur are all confident of the variety’s future and its growing role in the Bordeaux blend, both on the Left and Right Bank. Petit Verdot is another late ripening variety that thrives in the hotter, drier conditions. Could this peripheral variety become a star performer in Bordeaux’s future? Unlike Cabernet Franc it has yet to become more prominent in blends, often because just a small amount can dominate the structure and flavour of the wine and overpowers the more nuanced characters of Cabernet. Nicolas Glumineau is unsure that the variety is a saving grace, however. “I have some difficulties with Petit Verdot, it is a very tricky grape to grow… it’s very fragile – to wind, to rain, to many things and finally you just can’t pick it absolutely ripe every year.” While the new appellation rules allow new varieties, is changing the blend really the best solution to the ongoing issues of global warming? Ch. Margaux’s Philippe Bascaules certainly doesn’t think so. For him, changing the grape varieties is far too extreme when there are other, more subtle changes that, he believes, would be much more effective. “Currently we are at 10,000 vines per hectare but we don’t have to be,” he says. “Changing the row orientation would also have good results. Good for changing the effect of sunburn on the grapes.” Ch Pontet Canet's Justine Tesseron is another advocate of making alterations in the vineyard, not changing varieties. She is happy with how the Cabernet performs on her gravel soils and feels that there’s simply no need to experiment with other grapes. For Tesseron, the way in which the vines are farmed is more important: “A biodynamic vineyard is better placed to cope with the extremes. We treat individual vines based on their individual needs – it is all about the small details.”  Pierre-Olivier Clouet at Cheval Blanc sees a change in varieties as a last resort. He and his team have long been thinking about how to tackle global warming. “We are sure that the answer is in the vineyard management,” he says. They are looking at rootstocks, the size of the canopy, the yield (“If we want to preserve freshness, it’s better to have a little more yield”), cover crops, ploughing or no-till farming and how polyculture can help. Clouet is another Bordeaux vigneron who sees the problems – but also plenty of potential answers. They experiment a lot at their other property, Ch. Quinault l’Enclos. “We try to always be very open minded,” he says. But he is clear also that “We should never forget who we are.”  Bordeaux is awash with a mix of cautious optimism, as well as open-minded experimentation. For the time being, it doesn’t look – at least amongst the more prestigious classified estates – like they will be adding new varieties to the blend any time soon. Until alternative approaches in viticultural and vinification fail, Bordeaux’s varietal DNA looks safe. Read more about Bordeaux or explore more Editorial

Climate change poses a serious threat to wine-growers around the world. Bordeaux has just allowed the use of new grape varieties to help its producers cope with the increasingly hot, dry conditions – but what does this mean for the region’s identity? We talk to the top winemakers about the future

Cheval Blanc, Margaux, Lafleur, Lafite, Ducru-Beaucaillou and more on climate change in Bordeaux

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