When Alain Hudelot retired in 2008, it was his grandson who stepped up to take over the family estate, Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat. Charles van Canneyt – then just 20 years old and fresh from his wine studies – suddenly found himself managing 10 hectares of vines and running a winery. But he wasn’t any 20-year-old.  Gradually modernising the estate’s equipment and tweaking the winemaking (particularly toning down the extraction), he transformed the reputation of the domaine. Rapidly he became known as one of Burgundy’s rising stars, with Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat soon among the region’s most revered names. Not one to be complacent, he started a négoce label in 2012 – offering another avenue for Burgundy-lovers to get access to his winemaking talent.   Now he has – along with his wife Anne-Sophie – taken on a new challenge, having purchased a new estate: Domaine des Chézeaux. It’s unlikely you’ll know the name of this Gevrey-Chambertin property, but you’ll almost certainly know its vineyards.  This history of Domaine des Chézeaux  Domaine des Chézeaux was created by François Mercier in 1982, although the family has had vines in the village of Gevrey-Chambertin since 1928. The estate’s name comes from the Clos des Chézeaux, the walled vineyard next to the domaine. The family were land-owners rather than winemakers, so all their vines were leased out – en métayage – to other producers. This arrangement is common in Burgundy: the vignerons renting the vineyards manage them year-round and make the wine, giving a portion of their production (often around a third) to the vineyard-owner by way of rent.  This historic estate grew from its original holdings and – as of 1994 – consisted of around four hectares. The vines were split between three producers: Domaine Ponsot (and later Laurent Ponsot), René Leclerc and Domaine Berthaut (later Domaine Berthaut-Gerbet).  Ponsot rented the property’s original 0.89-hectare plot of Griotte-Chambertin, as well as Domaine des Chézeaux’s parcels of Clos Saint-Denis*, Chambertin and Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru Les Charmes. Domaine Berthaut leased the two Gevrey-Chambertin Premiers Crus (Les Cazetiers and Lavaux-Saint-Jacques) as well as the property’s village parcels, including the Clos des Chézaux. While technically the latter is a monopole, because Berthaut didn’t own the land it couldn’t be called as such.  Ahead of the 1994 vintage, the Mercier family purchased another parcel of Griotte-Chambertin, an additional 0.68 hectares that had been owned by Suzanne Thomas of Thomas Bassot, giving them the largest holding of this Grand Cru. The Esmonin family had been farming the vines in this parcel, selling some fruit to Jadot, and the Mercier family then leased it to René Leclerc (although the Esmonin family also continued to bottle the wine, with vintages of Frédéric Esmonin Griotte-Chambertin up to and including 1999 available). A portion of each of the finished wines was bottled under the Domaine des Chézeaux label, but was identical to that under the Ponsot, Leclerc or Berthaut labels – often at a fraction of the price.  Domaine des Chézeaux today In 2021, Charles van Canneyt managed to buy the estate and its enviable vineyard holdings. With all the vines under métayage contracts, the next challenge was to reclaim the vines – negotiating with each producer. By 2022 he had secured the monopole Clos des Chézeaux and Premier Cru Les Cazetiers, but sold the fruit. In 2023, having regained a parcel of Griotte-Chambertin, he made his first wines from the property.  By the time 2024 came around, he had managed to recover all the vineyards – adding Chambertin, Clos Saint-Denis and Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru Les Charmes. As part of the extensive negotiations, the Lavaux-Saint-Jacques parcel, some Gevrey-Chambertin village vines and two small sections of Griotte-Chambertin were sold.  The vines are generally old across the property, and the farming and winemaking is identical to that at Hudelot-Noëllat, with the fruit entirely de-stemmed and seeing very gentle extraction. The first vintages were vinified at Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat (but are being aged in the cellars at Domaine des Chézeaux), and work has started on a new winery that is set to be finished later this year (2025). Interestingly Van Canneyt has already seen the wines maturing differently at Chézeaux, with the particularly cool, humid cellar meaning the wines develop more slowly during élevage and need topping up less. He therefore anticipates ageing the wines slightly longer than those of Hudelot-Noëllat. The estate is retaining its historic name, but with new labels – helping differentiate from older bottlings made prior to Van Canneyt’s arrival. The name has the same origin as Echezeaux: chesaux – plural of chesal (which comes from the Latin, casellum or casalis) – meaning a stone house or building.   The Domaine des Chézeaux holdings   The estate now has around three hectares of vines, over half of which is Grand Cru, spread across six appellations:  Gevrey-Chambertin Clos des Chézeaux: This monopole vineyard covers half a hectare, with some of the vines almost 100 years in age (planted in 1929). Mid-slope and facing southeast, the village site has deep, clay-rich soils with gravel, sitting just below Premier Cru Cazetiers and neighbouring another monopole village site, Clos du Château, farmed and produced by Armand Rousseau.  Gevrey-Chambertin Premier Cru Les Cazetiers: Chézeaux has 0.216 hectares of this Premier Cru split over two parcels: one of 0.1615 hectares in the northern section and 0.045 hectares in the south.  Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru Les Charmes: Van Canneyt farms around 0.6 hectares in this Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru, which he also has a parcel of under Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat.  Clos Saint-Denis Grand Cru: There is a plot of 0.3776 hectares in Clos Saint-Denis, which will briefly be appearing in the range for 2024 (with just one barrel), but is now being replanted and out of action until 2029 at least.  Chambertin Grand Cru: A parcel (combining one tiny plot that sits next to their main plot) in the heart of this Grand Cru represents 0.143 hectares.  Griotte-Chambertin Grand Cru: Chézeaux is the largest vineyard holder in this Grand Cru, with an impressive 1.264 hectares of vines, a parcel in the heart of this tiny appellation.  Spotlight on Griotte-Chambertin  Griotte-Chambertin, also known as En Griotte, is the smallest of the Chambertin Grands Crus, totalling 2.69 hectares (and is among the smallest Grands Crus in the Côte d’Or, along with La Romanée, La Romanée-Conti and La Grande Rue for Pinot Noir). It sits below Clos de Bèze on the slope, just below the Route des Grands Crus and sandwiched between Chapelle-Chambertin and Charmes-Chambertin, facing northeast. This aspect is important, allowing the vines here to ripen more slowly, not receiving as much morning sun. The wines made here tend to be more delicate, aromatic and perfumed, less muscular than is perhaps typical for the village of Gevrey-Chambertin, and therefore highly prized. Pebble-rich, chalky topsoil sits over deep, limestone bedrock, with more clay the further down the slope you go.  Domaine des Chézeaux is the largest owner of the site, with 1.246 hectares – almost half of the vineyard. Other producers who own vines here are: Joseph Drouhin (0.53 hectares), Fourrier (0.26 hectares), Claude Dugat (0.15 hectares), Marchand Frères (0.13 hectares), Joseph Roty (0.08 hectares) and Duroché (0.02 hectares), as well as now Laurent Ponsot (0.11 hectares) and an investor who has leased his small portion of the Grand Cru to Cécile Tremblay (circa 0.2 hectares). The origin of the vineyard’s name is disputed. Some argue that it comes directly from “griotte”, the word for morello cherry – tied either to trees that were once planted in the site, or as a reference to the character of wine it typically produces. Most, however, now suggest it comes from “criotte”, the diminutive of “crais”, referring to the chalky pebbles that are found in its soils.    Insider knowledge: Domaine des Chézeaux Griotte-Chambertin Historic bottlings of Domaine des Chézeaux Griotte-Chambertin have been something of an insider’s secret, as some are Ponsot Griotte-Chambertin under a different label. Some were the wine made by René Leclerc, and it’s not always possible to know which.  1982 to 1993 vintages inclusive: Domaine des Chézeaux only had their original parcel of Griotte-Chambertin during this time, and it was leased to Domaine Ponsot  1994: Reportedly, only one wine was produced under the Domaine des Chézeaux label in 1994 – the first vintage in which Chézeaux had their second parcel of Griotte, which was leased to René Leclerc. The wine from both parcels was blended together for the Domaine des Chézeaux bottling.   1995 to 2001 vintages inclusive: Two identical Domaine des Chézeaux bottlings of Griotte-Chambertin were produced during these years, with nothing on the label to indicate which producer made them.  2002 onwards: The producer of the Griotte-Chambertin is detailed on the Domaine des Chézeaux labels from the 2002 vintage. While there continued to be two bottlings up to and including 2004, from 2005 onwards, René Leclerc’s Griotte was only occasionally bottled by Domaine des Chézeaux, with the wine more often sold off in bulk. (The 2010 and 2011 vintages are the exception, with the Leclerc bottling returning to the Chézeaux line-up, but with the producer name detailed on the label still.)   The Ponsot wines also have the Ponsot name embossed on the bottom of the bottles. Laurent Ponsot retained the lease for the vineyard when he left the family domaine, 2017 onwards.   The future of Domaine des Chézeaux  While Domaine des Chézeaux has a surprisingly deep history for such a modern estate, it’s surely only the beginning. With a talented vigneron like Charles van Canneyt at the helm and such enviable vineyard holdings, quality at this address is only going in one direction – and we’ve no doubt the wines will soon be as hard to secure as anything else he produces.  Domaine des Chézeaux’s 2023s 2023 Gevrey-Chambertin, Clos des Chézeaux: This monopole vineyard covers half a hectare, with some of the vines almost 100 years in age (planted in 1929). Mid-slope and facing southeast, the village site has deep, clay-rich soils with gravel, sitting just below Premier Cru Cazetiers and neighbouring another monopole village site, Clos du Château, farmed and produced by Armand Rousseau. Charles van Canneyt noted how managing the surrounding woodland (in particular removing some trees) had totally changed the site – bringing better airflow and more sunlight to the vineyard. His first vintage is scented, with bright and lush dark red-berry fruit, alongside iris and violet florals. The palate is vibrant and juicy, but with a fine-grained grip – nubuck-like tannins that frame the fruit, while there’s a savoury, saline note on the long finish. 2023 Gevrey-Chambertin, Premier Cru, Les Cazetiers: The vines in the Domaine des Chézeaux parcel of Cazetiers are very old, lending additional intensity to this brilliant Premier Cru. The wine is delicate, with chalky minerality and delicate floral perfume that entices on the nose. The palate has an earthy minerality, but that’s complemented by beautifully transparent dark berry fruit. It’s firm in texture, with savoury mineral tannins that balance the wine’s natural juiciness. Effortlessly balanced, long and impressive. Five barrels were produced in 2023. 2023 Griotte-Chambertin, Grand Cru: Griotte-Chambertin is the jewel in Domaine des Chézeaux’s crown, with the largest holding of this small Grand Cru site – renowned for producing gloriously aromatic and elegant wines. Charles van Canneyt’s first vintage is seductive, with sweet spice and just the lightest touch of toast sitting alongside waves of supple red cherry fruit. The wine is bright – offering an instant intensity and fullness, plush and voluptuous, yet with effortless elegance. It’s tight at this nascent stage, but you can see how much more it has to offer, with a structure that deserves time. Smoky tones linger on the long finish. A superb début. *This wine is famously the one that got fraudster Rudy Kurniawan caught, after he was found selling older vintages of Domaine Ponsot Clos Saint-Denis, although the property didn’t produce the Grand Cru prior to taking on the Chézeaux holding in 1982.  Keep an eye out for the first wines from the new Domaine des Chézeaux, which will be released soon; in the meantime, read more about Burgundy 

In 2021, Charles van Canneyt – of Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat – purchased the little-known Domaine des Chézeaux. Ahead of the release of his first vintage, we dive into the backstory of this Gevrey-Chambertin property – one that is set to be one of the Côte de Nuits’s most exciting new addresses 

Everything you need to know about this Gevrey-Chambertin wine estate, now owned by Charles van Canneyt of Domaine Hudelot-Noellat  

The new Domaine des Chezeaux, Gevrey-Chambertin 

The new Domaine des Chézeaux       

Bordeaux’s white wines don’t often make it into the limelight and Ch. Margaux is one of the few top estates – beyond the borders of Graves and Pessac-Léognan – to make a white that is as highly rated, and collected, as its red.  Last year, lovers of its famous Pavillon Blanc were rewarded with the news of an addition to the First Growth’s range: a second white wine, known as Pavillon Blanc Second Vin.  From the 2004 vintage, the team became increasingly selective with the fruit that made it into Pavillon Blanc, and from 2008 only a third or maximum half of the Sauvignon Blanc they harvest was being bottled. The team started occasionally bottling a barrel or two of a possible second wine, with the final result often poured for the harvest team. They rapidly realised, however, that the quality was good enough to deserve much more than internal consumption.  The wine is a true second selection and therefore sees exactly the same winemaking and attention as Pavillon Blanc proper. Pure Sauvignon Blanc, it spends around nine months in barrel, with circa 25% new wood, and half the barrels larger demi-muids, and some bâtonnage at the start of the wine’s maturation. One of the most important stages is the pressing, which is done extremely gently, stopping as soon as the pH rises by 0.10, and meaning they only manage to get around 50cl of juice per kilo of grapes.  While the first release came from the smallest white vintage on record for the property (2022), the new release – set for Thursday 16th January – comes from the 2023 vintage, the highest yield on record since 1988 (although still an extremely modest 37hl/ha at Ch. Margaux).  We covered the conditions of 2023 extensively in our report on the year, but – as with 2023 in Burgundy – there was a heatwave as the harvest arrived. The team at Ch. Margaux stops picking as soon as the mercury hits 32°C – meaning that the pickers would start work as soon as it was light enough, but have to stop as early as 10.30am on some days. With the hot weather, the sugar levels started to creep up rapidly; but the Sauvignon Blanc was all picked between 23rd and 30th August – early enough to retain plenty of freshness.  More approachable than its big sibling Pavillon Blanc, Pavillon Blanc Second Vin is nevertheless a wine with serious ageing capacity – and one that offers a taste of the property’s masterful expression of Sauvignon Blanc at a very appealing price. It’s a stunning wine – a unique expression of Bordeaux Blanc from this top estate – and one that we can’t recommend highly enough. 2023 Pavillon Blanc Second Vin  The nose is beautifully expressive, with fresh pear, chalk, lime juice and grapefruit pith. On the palate, the wine is long and taut – yet with a waxy texture that might lead you to believe there’s some Semillon in the blend. This is pure Sauvignon Blanc, however – pure and vibrant, green-fruited yet not at all green. Forget cat’s pea and any grassy, herbaceous tones: this is a wine about tension and freshness, with hints of jasmine and honeysuckle. It’s vibrant and bright, with a satisfying bitterness to the long, mouth-watering finish. Already stunning now, this will only get better in bottle – with everything in place to allow it to evolve for 10-15 years. Sensational.  With 13% alcohol and a pH of 3.15, the wine was matured in around 25% new oak. Around 10,000 bottles were produced (versus just 8,000 in 2022).   The 2023 vintage of Pavillon Blanc Second Vin was released on Thursday 16th January 2025 and is available now

Last year saw Ch. Margaux launch the first vintage of a new wine in the First Growth’s line-up: Pavillon Blanc Second Vin. Ahead of the second release, here’s everything you need to know about the wine 

Everything you need to know about the second wine to Pavillon Blanc, Bordeaux First Growth Ch. Margaux’s new white wine, made for the first time in 2022 

Ch. Margaux’s Pavillon Blanc Second Vin 

The new release of Pavillon Blanc Second Vin

It’s easy to make assumptions about William Kelley. In some ways, he seems like a caricature of the stereotypical wine writer: an excruciatingly RP English drawl, a doctorate in 19th century history from Oxford, a childhood divided between London’s Belsize Park and more rural Suffolk, and a cellar of seemingly endless depths (or so his Instagram suggests). And yet, there’s much more to the Wine Advocate’s Editor-in-Chief than meets the eye. Kelley sprung from anonymity rapidly. His mentor was Hugo Dunn-Meynell, a family friend who had been a protégé of André Simon and managed the Wine & Food Society for 15 years; organising Dunn-Meynell’s cellar formed Kelley’s early vinous education. He joined Oxford’s famous Wine Circle, acting as President for three years during his studies, which concluded with a PhD. “Education in the humanities is the only form of institutionalised punishment where you get extra time for good behaviour,” Kelley says with a chuckle. Academia wasn’t for him, but, as he tells me, with a casual shrug: “I kept getting scholarships and things, so I kept on doing it.” Wine, meanwhile, played an ever-growing role in his life – from pillaging his college’s cellars, helping the staff decant old vintage Ports, increasing involvement in the Wine Circle, and trips to visit producers. Kelley penned his first feature for Noble Rot in 2015, a spotlight on the late, elusive Henri Bonneau. He was published in Decanter the following year, where he soon secured the North American beat. He covered Burgundy’s 2015 and 2016 vintages for the magazine, before joining the Wine Advocate team in 2017 – just two years after he’d first started writing about wine. In March of this year (2024), he took over as Editor-in-Chief – arguably the biggest job in wine writing. That’s quite the trajectory for someone who fell into the job. “I always wanted to make wine,” Kelley says. “Writing about it sounded like a good idea to make some money, you know? I found the meaning afterwards.” And that meaning is what makes Kelley so interesting, both as a writer and an editor – one that is quietly leading a revolution at the Wine Advocate. I always wanted to make wine,” Kelley says. “Writing about it sounded like a good idea to make some money, you know?  “What we do can be amazingly useful in disrupting hierarchies and forcing critical reflection,” Kelley tells me. “I don’t think we do enough of those things currently – but this is something we’re going to do more of.” In his mind, the Wine Advocate’s purpose is “to keep everybody honest”. The publication was purchased by the Michelin Guide in 2019 (having held 40% since 2017), and Kelley’s been talking to the Michelin team – about how they choose which restaurants get reviewed, and the criteria on which they’re judged, looking for possible synergies. The difference between two and three stars, for example, is more subjective than whether or not an establishment makes it into the guide – and it’s similar with wine. Although there will always be an element of subjectivity, especially when it comes to the two- or three-star equivalents, Kelley is trying to bring more consistency to the way wines are scored. He’s brought in technical training for the entire reviewing team – looking at perceptive thresholds for faults such as brettanomyces and mouse, while also ensuring that they’re all using the same lexicon – that one person’s cinnamon isn’t another’s clove. He cites the world of perfume, where training is intensively scientific and perfumers have to pinpoint hundreds, if not thousands, of specific scents – strikingly different to the world of wine, where tasting is often just “free association”. The team even sends samples off to a laboratory for analysis. This is all part of how Kelley hopes to tackle the inflation, and compression, of scores (“a huge problem” he confesses) – which in turn is devaluing both ratings and the role of those that give them. Kelley is unusual in the critical sphere, for both making wine and reviewing it. He’s received criticism for this duality, although openly declares any interests in reviews (such as for Domaine Felettig, an estate from which he buys fruit). His experience in the vineyard and winery, however, gives him a unique perspective and allows him to engage with producers on a deeper level – something he wants to see more of across the team. What we do can be amazingly useful in disrupting hierarchies and forcing critical reflection When I ask how the publication determines what gets reviewed, Kelley explains how, for a long time, writers at the Wine Advocate had KPIs for the number of reviews published – trying to tackle as much as possible of the increasingly diverse world of fine wine in a bid for relevance. But he’s clear that needs to change: “We need to embrace the idea of reviewing fewer wines in more depth and following them more closely, because that reflects how people consume today,” he says. Part of that, for him, involves getting into vineyards and wineries to see how people are working, and spending enough time to fully understand it. He wants to put an end to gathering samples in anonymous tasting spaces; for him, the supposed neutrality of that experience is limiting. “How do you invest in the stock market if you know nothing about a company’s performance?” he says. “How do you define authenticity? For me, it’s about taking risks. It’s about exposure to negative consequences in pursuit of a goal, a conviction,” Kelley tells me – and it’s authenticity that he wants the Wine Advocate to be championing. “We’re in a period when winemaking conditions are more extreme, where traditional hierarchies of sites are being upended, and for the industry to digest all of that, we can be immensely useful voices.” He's clear that wine remains old-fashioned in many ways with an “aura of tradition” that consumers like, whether the family pedigree of certain estates (“We don’t want seventh-generation politicians, but suddenly we like nothing better than to buy a seventh-generation wine.”) or antiquated classifications (“Having a great classification is very nice – but it shouldn’t be a licence to print money. It should be an obligation to do better.”). The Wine Advocate, however, has the ability to champion young producers, shine a light on new names and question the current state of the industry. It can – in short – disrupt the status quo. One of the challenges with wine is that critics and writers are often dependent on producers for access, especially when it comes to the rarest and most sought-after wines. Truly impartial judgement is difficult when a low score or negative review risks not being invited back. (Kelley himself has been banned from estates – and sometimes later un-banned.) The industry is riddled with such conflicts of interest. But, for Kelley: “It’s not actually about avoiding [conflicts of interest], because you can’t… our business is about managing them; it’s about being very transparent.” We’re in a period when winemaking conditions are more extreme, where traditional hierarchies of sites are being upended While there are of course strict rules in place regarding hospitality and producers, the Wine Advocate’s expenses policy is generous enough, Kelley assures me, to allow writers to “engage with [producers] as an equal” – and ensure there’s no pay-to-play. Wine criticism isn’t renowned for its generous salaries, yet Kelley notes how important it is for reviewers “to be paid enough to buy the wines and have an independent relationship with [them]”. He highlights how it’s the bottles that he might have misjudged that have shaped him most professionally – lingering long in the memory as he tries to unravel how and why he might have misread a wine. Inevitably, Kelley is having to take a step back from reviewing to allow him to steer the ship. He’s expanding the team and plans to keep writing about Burgundy for now, but is keen to avoid “sitting on” any particular region (“I want to actually try to create new voices,” he says). When we talk, he hasn’t even hit six months in his role as Editor-in-Chief, and there is clearly more he wants to tackle, bringing further nuance to the way the Wine Advocate rates and reports on wines and producers. Wine writing was never the goal, however, and as he approaches a decade in his accidental career, his feet are getting itchy. He’s juggling his small project in the US (Beau Rivage) and his Burgundy label (largely négociant with two tiny parcels of his own, Beaune Premier Cru Les Chouacheaux and Côte de Beaune) alongside the job – and that’s where he wants to be. Once he’s finished his work reforming the Wine Advocate, he’ll be found among the vines in Burgundy. Wine is – and always will be – his life. “If it’s not an obsession, you’re not doing it right,” he says. It is this almost manic focus – a combination of true passion and intellectual curiosity – that is likely to define his work, both at the Wine Advocate and beyond.  Explore more Editorial

Earlier this year, William Kelley was named Editor-in-Chief of the Wine Advocate, taking over from his colleague Joe Czerwinski. We sat down with him to find out more about how he stumbled into writing, the role of critics today and why – for him – wine is much more than just a job    

The Wine Advocate’s new Editor-in-Chief, William Kelley, on stumbling into wine writing, the role of critics and why wine is much more than a job

Talking to the Wine Advocate’s William Kelley

Advocating for change: William Kelley

“We’re just sort of making it up as we go along,” Andy Erickson says to me on our transatlantic Zoom call, shrugging and smiling as we talk about his and his wife’s project, Favia. It’s not necessarily what you’d expect this star consultant winemaker to say – having helped craft the likes of Screaming Eagle, Harlan, Dalla Valle, Staglin, Mayacamas and more. It’s hard to believe that anything this man does is a fluke of fate. And yet this self-effacing tone is a thread that runs throughout my conversation with Erickson and his wife Annie Favia.  Favia brings her own, similarly enviable resume, having worked at Kongsgaard, Corison and for many years alongside cult viticulturist David Abreu, giving her unparalleled experience of Napa’s finest vineyards. She and Erickson met at a dinner party almost 30 years ago, instantly hit it off, and within six months were making their first barrel of wine together, tucked in the corner of their garage. That first experimental barrel of 1996 Russian River Pinot Noir (of which they still have a few bottles) was the start of something that grew as they and their family did, and the Favia label was born in 2001, although it was a couple of years before there was more than a barrel or two to sell.   The concept behind the brand is simple: “It’s our expression of what we think Napa Valley wine should be,” explains Erickson. But Favia has also been a project where they could experiment, push the envelope and play with the “pioneering freedom” (in Erickson’s words) that Napa offers. The flexibility to purchase grapes from different areas, pick and choose varietals, and work with no constraints in the winery is something they clearly savour.  The project focuses on Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc – the latter in particular a grape they both love. Inspired by the likes of Ausone, Cheval Blanc, the reds of the Loire and Dalla Valle’s Maya (a wine that Erickson now makes), they were keen to play with the varietal, crafting two Cabernet Franc blends – Cerro Sur and La Magdalena. As Annie Favia explains, “[Cabernet Franc] allows you to make one kind of wine if you pick it at one time, and then a completely different wine if you pick it at another time.”  More than anything, however, Favia is about expressing a sense of place and connection to the land. “When I was growing up, my mom was an avid gardener and I spent a lot of time with her in the garden,” says Annie. “So it's always been really kind of home to me.” It’s unsurprising perhaps that their Coombsville property is far from just a vineyard and winery, but a homestead of sorts. “We really love to grow all kinds of things,” Annie says eagerly. While vines are the main crop, Annie also farms a range of other plants – largely for her loose-leaf tea company, ERDA, but also fruit and vegetables for the family table. “Growing different crops allows you to look at grapevines in a different way,” she explains.   For the Favia label, they work exclusively with fruit from Oakville and Coombsville, and while Oakville is arguably one of the most prestigious appellations in Napa, Coombsville is less well known. Fruit from the AVA has often been blended away into regional wines, but with its volcanic soils and proximity to the San Pablo Bay bringing cooling influences, they love its concentrated power, naturally fresh acidity and savoury quality, and more forward-focused tannins versus the broader profile of Oakville.   Although Erickson is increasingly focused on Favia, he still consults for a handful of carefully selected estates – something he can’t see giving up. “It’s a great outlet,” he tells me, explaining how different it is to channel a client’s vision for a project, versus craft your own wine exactly the way you want. Much like the various crops they farm, it’s another way for them to learn, experiment and develop. And yet, “Presenting something that you’ve made to people and getting a response…” Erickson says. “I love that part of what we do.”  Two decades after Favia was born, they’ve received significant investment from the Huneeus family (which owns Quintessa), along with a new 86-acre property in Oakville, where they’ll soon be starting work on a new winery, taking the project to the next level. “We’re going to be doing exactly what we’ve done for 20-plus years, but now have an even bigger farm and more fruit trees and more gardens and more wine to share with people. And it’s just really fun,” says Annie, the excitement clear in her expression. They’ll be bringing back Sauvignon Blanc, which they’ve made in the past, and are making their first wine with a tiny plot of Malbec they planted – a variety they’re considering with climate change.  On paper, Favia and Erickson are a formidable duo – with CVs that offer a roll-call of Napa icons – and yet they are entirely unassuming. Their absolute passion for the vine, for farming, the region and their craft shines through; and while they might be as down-to-earth as they come, it’s already clear that Favia is destined to reach great heights.  The latest releases of Favia are available now 

Annie Favia and Andy Erickson are Napa royalty. As the 2021 vintage of their personal project, Favia, is released via La Place, we caught up with the couple about their label, estate and vision for the region

Exploring the wines of Favia, Annie Favia and Andy Erickson’s Napa project, and how it’s growing after two decades

Annie Favia and Andy Erickson’s Favia 

Growing up: Favia

Until I joined Vinfolio, the US arm of our business, I hadn’t heard of Ch. Belle-Brise. But I rapidly fell in love with this little-known, yet much-loved Pomerol property. Our retrospective was to be held at three-star Michelin SingleThread in Healdsburg (Sonoma County, California), and examine 23 vintages of Belle-Brise, from 2020 all the way back to 1993. As proprietor Henri-Bruno de Coincy unfortunately couldn’t make it to our event, I was tasked with hosting on his behalf, and gave him a call to learn more about what he feels are the most important details to share about his property. (My degree in French, which was instrumental in my becoming a sommelier, proved to be quite useful. While M de Coincy speaks four languages, English is not one of them.) During our conversation, I confirmed the embarrassment of riches as far as what sets Belle Brise apart from its illustrious neighbours. Located in the southwestern corner of the already diminutive Pomerol appellation, Belle-Brise consists of only two hectares (around five acres) of vines. Planted to 80% Merlot and 20% Cabernet Franc, the vines average 70 years in age, with some 110 years old. The vines are farmed biodynamically, using horses to complete the necessary labour in the vineyard. While the subsoils have a mix of clay and sand, they also possess the famous crasse de fer – the iron-rich sand that is said to impart the aroma of truffles, a facet which only reveals itself as the wine ages. M de Coincy refers to Belle-Brise as his “jardin” (indeed, while the family spends much of their time in Armagnac, the house at the heart of the vineyard is very much their second home) and takes great pride in the fact that everything can be harvested by hand in a single day. 
Wine has been made at Belle-Brise since the 18th century, but the property did not see its first commercial release until 1991, after M de Coincy acquired the estate, with the wine sold only to family and friends before that date. If you are familiar with your Bordeaux vintages, you will know that 1991, ’92, and ’93 were all extremely difficult harvests. While not the auspicious start he may have hoped for, it did offer an opportunity to explore the vineyard and learn how to best care for it. Today the winemaking is identical from year to year, with the vintage – and site – speaking loudest. The wines are fermented in concrete before being placed in a third new, a third second-use and a third third-use 400-litre barrels, the traditional size used for Armagnac, rather than the more conventional 225-litre Bordeaux barrique. The Coincy family has been making Armagnac for 32 generations and over 700 years, so the exact size is not arbitrary, but the decision to use larger barrels is also deliberate – reducing the impact of the wood on the final wine. While the story of the château and the history of the De Coincys are both compelling, I must return to what is most important to keep in mind when tasting Belle-Brise: elegance and finesse. Serving Pomerol with kaiseki-influenced Japanese cuisine (as at SingleThread) may not be the obvious choice, however the delicacy of the wines ensured that the harmony of the dishes was kept intact, leading to many unexpected moments of delight. Unsurprisingly, exceptional vintages were beautifully cohesive and balanced, however, it was the less well-respected vintages (2011, 2004, 2002, 2018 and 2008, among others) that truly showed how attention to detail and care can surmount challenges that nature may present. While we were not able to taste every vintage of Belle-Brise (with the tiny volumes produced, the family simply doesn’t have stocks of everything), this retrospective tasting was one of the largest ever presented. The favourite vintage among guests on the night was 2011, a vintage which also came up in my conversation with M de Coincy, as it has been chosen as the “desert island” of wine professionals and aficionados many times before. The most interesting flight for me came later in the meal, with the 2004, ’03, and ’02 grouped together. These vintages all presented different challenges during the growing season. The 2002 saw extreme rain in many parts of France, with heavy downpours affecting flowering and fruit set. The 2003 saw a summer with extreme heat, which taught many lessons that were applied in 2022. Lastly, the 2004 had a larger harvest on the whole, but the vintage is often forgotten, left in 2005’s long shadow. In the glass, however, the 2002 was pure and bright, with the 2003 showing its suntan but still refined, and the 2004 had a concentration and depth that was remarkable (especially as the wines were all around two decades old).  Regardless of vintage, elegance and finesse were constant throughout the entire evening, reminding me of a concept I learned in one of my French philosophy classes at university. If my memory serves me correctly, Michel de Montaigne proposed in his Essais the concept of a “forme maîtrise” or master form when referring to the evolution of a person as they age, and as something that cannot be easily defined in simple terms. While I am now much different than I was at age five, 15, 25, etc, there is still a governing sense of self (or possibly a single thread) that connects the person writing this to the child I once was. As we continued to taste through the vintages of Belle Brise, this forme maîtrise kept asserting itself, via the performance of the wine in the glass, reminding me of the “garden” where these wines were made. As many of the variables seen at other châteaux (differing blends, oak regimes, etc) remain constant at Belle-Brise year after year, one can focus on the vintage and its effect on the wine in the glass. This results in a singular experience, when one can truly feel the sense of place that only certain wines can offer. Explore all current listings of Ch. Belle-Brise or discover more about our experiences.

Earlier this month, we hosted a dinner celebrating Ch. Belle-Brise, exploring this Pomerol estate via 23 vintages back to 1993. Here, Scott Turnbull MS – Director of Private Clients at our US arm, Vinfolio – considers the event and the golden thread that connects each vintage of this special wine

Master Sommelier Scott Turnbull dives into what defines Ch. Belle-Brise, the special Pomerol estate, via a rare vertical tasting of vintages back to 1993

Ch. Belle-Brise – the walled garden of Pomerol

Ch. Belle-Brise: discovering the walled garden of Pomerol

South Africa is one of the most exciting wine-producing nations right now. A new generation – led by the likes of Eben Sadie, the Mullineux, Chris Alheit and many more – has put the Cape firmly on the fine wine agenda. Its pinpoint Chenin Blanc, serious Syrah and laidback winemakers have made it the darling of the industry – yet this modish group of surfer-cum-winemakers seems a world away from the sweet wines of Constantia.  “Constantia Wyn” was South Africa’s original vinous export – savoured by the good and great of the 18th and 19th centuries. Bismarck, Frederick the Great, Louis XVI and George Washington are all noted to have enjoyed it, while Napoleon had vast volumes shipped to him in exile on St Helena (drinking up to a bottle a day) – and it was supposedly the only thing he wished to consume on his deathbed. The wine is mentioned by Dickens, Dumas and Baudelaire, with Jane Austen’s Mrs Jennings in Sense and Sensibility famously recommending it for “its healing powers on a disappointed heart”.  How, then, did such a legendary wine fall from grace? Economic downturn in the second half of the 19th century, followed by the arrival of mildew and phylloxera in the Cape, and the subsequent dominance of the KWV – the state-run cooperative – saw it vanish.  But in 1985, the Klein Constantia property was bought by Duggie Jooste. He replanted the vineyards, built a new winery and worked on overhauling the long-neglected estate. In 1986 he and winemaker Ross Gower produced the first vintage of Vin de Constance – their tribute to “Constantia Wyn” – released in 1990. It was made with Muscat de Frontignan (a particularly thick-skinned clone of Muscat) left to raisin on the vine, producing a luscious sweet wine, with no botrytis influence. It was an instant success – but quality and style was inconsistent, and Vin de Constance was just one wine in the range, rather than a focus.   It was only in 2012 that Klein Constantia embarked on a new chapter. The property had been for sale for a while and, as Vice Chairman Hans Astrom told me, it was “a bit dusty” and severely in need of attention. It changed hands in 2011, with Zdenek Bakala – an American-Czech billionaire – and British banker Charles Harman taking over, merging a year later with the Stellenbosch estate Anwilka, part-owned by Duggie Jooste’s son Lowell Jooste, Hubert de Boüard (of Ch. Angélus) and Bruno Prats (previously of Cos d’Estournel). Matthew Day – who had worked at the property since 2008 – took over as winemaker. While the estate still produces a full range of whites and reds, Vin de Constance is its flagship.  Now, a decade on, the importance of this shift is shining through. Being a “legacy winery” used to be “what got us in the door”, Day explains, but Klein Constantia is no longer trading on its past. The wines made between 1986 and 2012 were experimental, Day notes – with bottlings ranging significantly in sweetness (from 80 to 180g/l residual sugar) – but they were “vital in figuring out where we are going”. His favourites from that era are the 1987, 1991, 1995, 1996 and 2001 (“with 1991 and 1987 being at the top of that list”), but he’s more excited about the wines he’s producing today. “The older Vin de Constances are more in the style of being sweet wines, whereas the newer vintages are just wines,” adds Day.   Since 2012, they have gradually evolved the style, striving for balance and freshness, with increased precision. For Day, the aim is to make “a sweet wine that doesn’t taste sweet”.  The first shifts were in the vineyard, which since the mid-2000s has been farmed sustainably with some organic and biodynamic practices. The team planted more bush vines that ripen and raisin earlier in the season, therefore retaining more acidity. While they used to pick parcels from January to have high-acid components for blending, now – with the bush vines – they can pick a more uniformly ripe crop, yet not sacrifice acidity.  The end goal remains to have as many components as possible for blending, with the harvest team picking in passes and bringing between one and five kilograms of grapes in per day. While the wine used to vary in alcohol and sugar level, they now aim for around 165g/l residual sugar and 14% alcohol – where they think the best balance is found, varying slightly according to vintage.   The 2016 vintage was the first to be made in a new cellar – a practical and hygienic space. As for what actually happens in the cellar, the key changes have been around skin contact and élevage. The must now spends a week on skins, inoculated with a non-saccharomyces yeast to protect them from biological contamination and the development of volatile acidity, extracting all-important flavour compounds, but not phenolics. They then inoculate for alcoholic fermentation, which lasts between one and three months. They also started re-introducing the use of foudre for ageing the wines in 2016. From 2019, the wine will spend its first 1.5 years in new 500-litre barrels (encouraging the evolution of secondary flavours), before being transferred to older foudre for another 1.5 years (giving oak influence but without the ageing effect of micro-oxygenation).   Tasting the 2012 alongside the 2019 highlights the differences. The two vintages were similarly cool, both picked in April, and although the residual sugar is almost identical, the 2019 feels significantly fresher – with a pithy, textured freshness that offsets its sweetness.   This whimsical wine of yore might feel like a counter to the nation’s new wave, but it’s not so, says Day. “For me, Klein Constantia has always been at the forefront of the movement, but in a completely different way. We might not be as trendy as some of the newer producers, but we like to think the work we have done with Vin de Constance over the past decade has shown the world that South Africa has the potential to compete with the best of the best in the world.”   Browse all current listings from Klein Constantia or browse more Editorial

Loved by Dickens, Austen and Napoleon, the sweet wines of Constantia were legendary in the 18th and 19th century. But Klein Constantia – the estate revived in the 1980s – is done with looking back. Sophie Thorpe caught up with winemaker Matthew Day to find out what lies ahead 

Klein Constantia’s winemaker Matthew Day on the evolution of Vin de Constance, South Africa’s most iconic and historic sweet wine

A new era for Klein Constantia’s Vin de Constance

A constant evolution: Vin de Constance

Exploring the world of eaux de vie with artisan distillers who are elevating the ancient harvest ritual to the realm of alchemy

Exploring the world of eaux de vie with Rochelt, Capreolus, Domaine Roulot and Capovilla, who are elevating the ancient harvest ritual to the realm of alchemy

FONDATA: The quest for distilled perfection - eaux de vie

Fruits of wonder: the quest for distilled perfection

There is a lyricism to the way Roberto Bava speaks. Beyond his unmistakeable Italian accent, his sentences rise and fall. Every word is a piece of music in and of itself, which is sometimes broken by an infectious burst of laughter. He drops his h’s and finds syllables where ordinarily there are none. It’s not hard to picture him holding court at the head of the table at the Vermouth di Torino Institute, or working the room at events with people, he says, who openly express their  dislike of vermouth. “You have this reaction against it because you remember your grandmother used to offer you an oxidised thing,” Bava tells me. Once they taste a vermouth that has been well-made and well-kept, it’s a whole different ball game. “You discover a totally different product,” he says. Introducing vermouth to an entirely new audience, or a familiar audience in a different way, clearly brings joy to Bava. He talks of an event the night before we speak when he offered vermouth to the guests. After a couple of sips, they stopped drinking wine and switched to vermouth for the rest of the dinner. “It was phenomenal,” he says with unabashed glee. “People are now tasting it and saying, ‘Oooh, this is goooood.’” Bava, and the three or four generations (he forgets which) of his family who have worked in the industry before him, have lived through vermouth’s highs and lows. After heady days in the 20th century when it was consumed neat as a welcome drink or “nice company to your book and solitude”, vermouth fell out of favour in the “hard decades” of the 1970s, ’80s and ’90s. “As a category, it was a little bypassed,” Bava tells me. Vermouth simply couldn’t compete with the marketing budgets of other products and they stormed to the fore, leaving the fortified wine “a little lost”. It wasn’t until the cocktail renaissance in the 1990s and the meteoric rise of the Negroni many years later (in the early 2000s) that the pendulum swung back in vermouth’s favour. “Vermouth is a good drink,” Bava says lyrically, “but it is also an instrument to make better other drinks.” When asked which cocktails of the many that are made with vermouth – think the Martini, Negroni, Manhattan, Adonis – has done the most for the category, the Vermouth di Torino Institute president says in a flash: “the Negroni”. He then adds in his melodic way: “As an Italian, and being a Negronista, it’s gotta be a Negroni.” Bava does then concede that it slightly depends on the country. In America, for example, he says, the Manhattan is king – even if people don’t necessarily realise vermouth is in it. Another reason vermouth has risen to prominence, according to Bava, is the improved quality and introduction of a Geographical Indication (GI) for Vermouth di Torino three years ago – something he refers to as a “little miracle”. In short, this means the vermouth must be made with at least one Italian wine, wormwood must be the predominant flavour and the wormwood used must be grown in Piedmont. The final liquid must be between 16% and 22% alcohol. For a GI, this is broader than others and allows many producers in the Piedmont region to use “Vermouth di Torino” on their bottles. Bava was instrumental in getting this classification for the region in 2019 and was rightly given the role of president at the Vermouth di Torino Institute. In three short years, Bava says the GI is paying dividends and making a real difference to the style and quality of Vermouth di Torino. “Vermouth was produced all over the world,” he explains, “sometimes losing a little of the identity”. It wasn’t until the GI was approved that vermouth producers from Turin, like Bava, could really communicate that a vermouth from Poland or Argentina wasn’t the genuine article. For that, you need to go to its birthplace of Torino, Italy. “Vermouth di Torino has been a benchmark for the whole category – and will be, for sure,” Bava adds energetically. “This [label] makes an important guarantee to the consumer because you know what is in the bottle. You know there is control, you know someone has checked, made an analysis, you know the ingredients, and this is not a generic product, it is a specific product and a protected product.” He makes the inevitable, and important, comparison with the wine world. “You can produce wine all over the world, but if you do wine in Barolo it’s specific. You can do table wine in France anywhere but if you go in Pauillac, of course, you have something else. So this is what’s gonna happen,” he explains. To date, 99% of Turin's producers have joined the fold to champion and protect the region’s appellation, including some of the biggest and smallest names. At present, Vermouth di Torino is the only vermouth GI recognised and protected in the category but Bava teases that there could well be more in time. With vermouth from its birthplace now protected and a much better understanding of how it should be kept – in the fridge once open and stored out of direct sunlight – it’s hard not to see its fanbase continuing to grow, especially as it ticks the low-alcohol box for a more mindful, younger consumer base. “The consumption is going to grow. It takes us some time. I’ve been working already 10 years,” he laughs. But Bava is certainly bullish now all the producers are working as one. With Bava spreading the word, in his enchanting and charismatic way, you can certainly see an appreciation for vermouth continuing apace. Explore all spirits or read more Editorial 

Vermouth has fallen in and out of vogue many times throughout its history. Buoyed by a new geographical classification and ever-growing classic cocktail appreciation, the future looks brighter than ever. Holly Motion reports

Cocchi Vermouth's Roberto Bava on the Italian drink's history, its new protected status and the classic cocktail renaissance

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