Bordeaux is changing. The Left Bank, in particular, has long been a region of labels – of grandiose estates, polished winemakers and the bottles they produce – the vineyards a backdrop to their impressive châteaux and new state-of-the-art wineries. Of course, vineyards have mattered, as much as they’re the source of their grapes, but they’ve rarely been the focus for conversations with trade or consumers. But now, perhaps influenced by the meteoric rise of Burgundy – and an approach to wine echoed around the world, terroir is stepping into the spotlight. Behind the scenes, the Bordelais may always have been looking underfoot, but now they are talking about it too.  Nowhere is this more true than at Ch. Montrose – a property that announced a significant change when releasing its 2023 vintage. The property has always made some of Bordeaux’s finest wines, but over the past 15 years (under the Bouygues’ ownership) quality at this Saint-Estèphe estate has reached new heights. Long known for its austere age-worthiness, there’s now a modern polish that softens its stern style – without sacrificing its classicism and longevity. Each vintage seems to reveal a new level of precision and finesse. From 2023, Montrose announced that its Grand Vin would only come from Terrace 4 (T4). If that doesn’t mean much to you, I’m not surprised.  The Médoc and Graves’s six gravel terraces were uncovered by Pierre Becheler in a series of studies in the 1980s and ’90s. Each terrace dates from a different period and has its own distinct soils, with Terrace 1 (T1) the oldest and Terrace 6 (T6) the youngest – and argued to be a defining factor in the Left Bank’s terroir. T3 and T4 are widely regarded as the best for wine-growing, and Becheler found that, at the time of their classification in 1855, over 80% of the Classed Growths sat on these two distinct geological strata.  In the last decade, these gravel mounds have become a key part of Bordeaux’s story, explaining the estates’ terroir. Despite widespread understanding that the terraces are integral to the quality of wine, there still isn’t a comprehensive map of the Left Bank’s terroir – showing which vineyards sit on which soils (the best are those created by Jane Anson and Kees van Leeuwen for Anson’s book Inside Bordeaux). Most studies have been undertaken by individual estates, as at Montrose – who engaged Becheler himself to uncover the specifics of their site.  It's remarkable that, without knowing anything about the region’s subsoils, Montrose was so fortuitously placed – although it has of course survived thanks to its prestigious site. The property’s first vines were planted – all on the fabled T4 – in 1815, by Etienne Théodore Dumoulin, who had purchased the land from Nicolas Alexandre de Ségur (of Calon Ségur). The land had been covered in heather, its pink blossom covering the gentle slope come autumn, and sailors passing along the Gironde estuary used to call it the pink hill – or “mont rose”, giving the property its name.  It was only 40 years after the first vines went in the ground that the estate earned its place as a Second Growth in the 1855 Classification. By 1861, when Dumoulin passed away, the estate comprised 95 hectares – but its borders have shifted over the years. It was later purchased by an Alsace factory owner, Mathieu Dolfus, who invested heavily in the property. He was a visionary – offering free healthcare, profit sharing and accommodation on the estate for his workers. He even used a wind turbine to flood the vineyards, staving off the impact of phylloxera as long as he could.  Montrose was managed by the Charmolüe family between 1896 and 2006, with Jean-Louis – who ran the estate from 1960 – key in building its modern reputation. It was under him, in the 1970s, that vines were planted on lower-lying land close to the estuary, which sits on T5. These humid, sandy parcels are now used for La Dame de Montrose, the château’s second wine.  It was in 2006 that brothers Olivier and Martin Bouygues (of the eponymous telecoms company) acquired the property. In 2010 they bought an additional 22 hectares from Phélan Ségur, land which had historically been part of Montrose. These vineyards, wooded on either side, sit on the sandier T3, but importantly also brought the total vineyard area back to 95 hectares – as under Dumoulin – and all sitting in one block (something which is relatively rare in Bordeaux).  The Bouygues brothers hired Vincent Decup as the estate’s Technical Director in 2014. Decup instantly set about getting to grips with the estate and its soils. When he arrived, they had a map detailing 16 different soil types across the vineyards – but he soon commissioned further studies, uncovering an additional 10 soil types. This gave them, Decup tells me, “the possibility to explore and separate” parcels, diving into the detail of the site with a Burgundian, rather than Bordelais, vision. From 2017, the team started delineating the parcels – vinifying plots in 93 separate tanks (over twice the 40 that had been used just three years prior), adapting the winemaking to each. Looking at the Cabernet Sauvignon on T3 and T4, he explains how they gained a “new level of precision and comprehension of Cabernet on each terrace”.  “The Cabernet Sauvignon of Montrose naturally gets lots of power,” Decup tells me. “We have to be careful with the extraction.” Especially for fruit from T3, he explains, it can easily become overly austere. T4 has always represented the majority of the blend for the Grand Vin at Montrose – and in Decup’s mind it is not just the property’s historic DNA, but what gives the wine its identity. He tells me how there is something magical about the way Cabernet ripens on these parcels, developing technical (sugar), aromatic and phenolic ripeness all at once. It produces wine that is “powerful, voluminous, demonstrative – a lion in a cage”.  In 2022, the same year that Charlotte Bouygues took over as President and Pierre Graffeuille became CEO, the team started focusing more on T4, and from 2023 the Grand Vin comes exclusively from this prized terrace. Coming from the Delon estates, Graffeuille knew the potential of these soils, shared by Léoville Las Cases. The 2022 vintage was pivotal – earning four potential 100-point scores, with four firm 100-point scores in bottle – and the 2023 followed in its footsteps, with three potential perfect scores to its name.  The gravel terraces rise and fall through the region. T4 surfaces in Saint-Estèphe, running under Meyney and Montrose, disappearing until the southern edge of Pauillac, reappearing around Latour, then running through much of Saint-Julien (including the three Léovilles – Las Cases, Barton and Poyferré – and Ducru-Beaucaillou), rising again throughout Margaux and then again under Haut-Brion and La Mission Haut-Brion, with small pockets further south.  The defining factor of T4 is an iron pan beneath its sandy gravels. The sandy gravel topsoil allows young vines to develop roots easily, before they hit the compact iron layer – forcing the vines to spread horizontally rather than vertically. That compact layer is cool and retains water, feeding the vines in hot years. Decup explains how in July the topsoil might be hot, but if you dig down you can feel the chill of the iron layer – something that is perfect for Cabernet Sauvignon. At Montrose, T4 sits between 12 and 16 metres’ altitude, while elsewhere it reaches a maximum 22 metres. T4 tends to run close to the Gironde, which provides a moderating influence – especially so at Montrose, where the estuary is 4.5km wide (notably protecting the estate from frosts, such as in the brutal 1991 season – a year when Montrose produced the wine of the vintage).  As with T4, T3 runs beneath many Classed Growths – notably Cos d’Estournel, Mouton and Lafite. With sandier gravel topsoil, the key difference is that T3 doesn’t have the iron pan of T4 – the topsoil instead sitting directly on clay-limestone subsoil. Slightly higher in altitude (15-18 metres at Montrose, but generally 20-26 across the Médoc), the soils are very deep and the vines’ roots drive straight down, up to three metres or so at Montrose, Decup tells me. With less clay in the topsoil, the soils are particularly free-draining, and the vines reach down in search of water. “In terms of expression, it is not the same at all,” says Decup. He explains that while it also produces bold Cabernet Sauvignon, it’s got particular energy and length, an austerity – but “positive austerity”. Vines on T3 particularly thrive in hot, dry years, he tells me.  Montrose has an impressive 45 hectares of vines on T4, 12 on T3, a swathe on what the team describes as an “intermediate soil” – somewhere between the two terraces, and a small portion on T5. So what now of the property’s vines on T3? While the château isn’t openly confirming it, a separate bottling of T3 is set to be released – likely hitting the market in 2026, if rumours are to be believed. The rest of the fruit goes into La Dame de Montrose, and a small portion into a third wine, Tertio de Montrose (previously known as Saint-Estèphe de Montrose), which is exclusively for those working at the estate. All in all, the Grand Vin now represents circa 36% of production at Montrose – down from closer to 45%.   “T3 and T4 are, in our opinion, the terraces that produce the best viticultural results,” says Pierre Becheler, when it comes to the Médoc and Haut-Médoc. Interestingly he explains that in the Graves it’s very different, and T2, which is almost non-existent in the Médoc, produces some stunning results. He can’t fully explain why one terrace works better for wine than another, but one reason the terraces are so important is their influence on water availability. With varying proportions of clay and sizes of gravel, it’s a key element in viticulture and, eventually, wine quality. Although he has spent much of his career diving into these gravel beds, however, he’s very clear that the terraces are one very important piece of the puzzle – but will never provide the entire picture. Some terraces are the best in certain appellations, he says, “but we don’t really know why or how”.  The complexities of Bordeaux’s terroir are manifold – and some argue that the bedrock, from richer clays to hard limestones, are more influential than the gravel terraces that lie over them. On top of this, slope exposition, proximity to the Gironde, and many other elements influencing microclimate, not to mention the human influence, all contribute to the concept of “terroir”. It’s exciting to see site pushed to the fore, especially alongside an increased focus on sustainability in the vineyard. The conversation is evolving – and, if Montrose’s 2023 is anything to go by, it’s only going to push quality in the region higher than ever before.  Explore all current Montrose listing (including a special selection of ex-château stock) or read more about Bordeaux 

While long a leading estate, recent vintages of Ch. Montrose have earned sky-high scores. We sat down with the property’s Technical Director Vincent Decup to find out how the team is taking the Saint-Estèphe titan to new heights – all by looking underfoot  

Sitting down with Ch. Montrose’s Technical Director Vincent Decup to talk about its terroir, terraces and perfect-scoring vintages of the Saint-Estephe wine 

FINE+RARE: Talking terraces and terroir with Ch. Montrose 

What lies beneath: talking terraces and terroir with Ch. Montrose  

It’s 20 years since Eduardo Chadwick gathered some of Europe’s most famous wine writers for a blind tasting – one to rival the famous 1976 Judgement of Paris (when California proved its wines could compete with – and beat – France’s best). Chadwick was convinced that critics were underestimating Chilean wines – for no reason other than snobbery against the nation. The Berlin Tasting pitched Chadwick’s top wines (Viñedo Chadwick, Seña and Don Maximiano Founder’s Reserve) against Bordeaux’s First Growths and a lone Super Tuscan (Antinori’s Solaia). Chadwick charged the late Steven Spurrier with running the event. “I never imagined that what happened was about to happen,” Chadwick tells me. To his and everyone else’s amazement, the 2000 Viñedo Chadwick took the top spot, followed by 2001 Seña, then 2000 Ch. Lafite Rothschild, and 2000 Ch. Margaux – tied equally in fourth place with 2000 Seña. Finally, there was proof that Chile’s wines deserved a place on the world stage.  But, for Chadwick, one watershed moment wasn’t enough. He repeated the tasting, first in São Paulo, then Tokyo – and onward, hosting the same blind tasting 22 times around the world, all with similarly spectacular results for his wines. It takes nerves of steel – and a certain amount of ego – to be willing to risk repeating such a tasting, and yet Chadwick was justly rewarded. His campaign is just one way in which he has forged a path for fine, Chilean wine – with a relentless, dogged determination.  Chadwick is the fifth generation of his family to make wine in Chile. Don Maximiano Errázuriz emigrated from the Basque country and was the first to plant vines in the Aconcagua Valley in 1870. He identified the location, 100km north of Santiago, with its cool ocean breezes, hot summers and rainy winters, as perfect for growing grapes. Operating under the motto of, “from the best land, the best wine”, he planted vines in this idyllic site, near Panquehue, and built a winery – that still stands today.  Gradually, the business grew – and it became the largest vineyard in the world owned by an individual, with 1,300 hectares under vine at its peak in the late 19th century. Despite this early prosperity, Chile’s wine industry didn’t continue to thrive. There was no export market and domestic consumption (which reached up to 80 litres per capita annually) was slashed by severe taxation, while political and economic turbulence, with communist then military rule, put not just the industry, but nation, in crisis. By the early 1980s, wine was cheaper than water and around half of the nation’s vines were ripped out.  It was onto this unstable scene that Eduardo Chadwick arrived. He had initially trained as an industrial engineer before deciding to focus on wine instead, going to study in Bordeaux under the legendary oenologist Emile Peynaud. His father bought the family winery back from the banks, and Chadwick started dusting away the cobwebs, re-opening Viña Errázuriz and – armed with new, technical knowledge – made the first vintage of Don Maximiano Founder’s Reserve, the property’s flagship wine, in 1984. The operation was still rudimentary – with rauli vats (a native hardwood), no temperature control and pergola vines planted on the fertile flats – but it was an early indication of what was possible. Tasting the wine four decades later, it’s held up remarkably well – with surprising vibrancy on the nose and a chiselled, savoury profile of pure Cabernet Sauvignon.  Gradually, Chadwick invested in equipment – stainless steel tanks, modern presses and barrels – and started to plant vineyards on slopes with poorer soils. Alongside this shift, pivotal elections in 1989 saw Chile become a democracy once more – and key figures from the world of wine visited. Soon entry-level wines were being exported by the likes of Oddbins and Victoria Wine. The doors had opened for Chilean wine. Robert Mondavi visited Chadwick in 1991 – and the two men hit it off, sharing an unrelenting drive to push their industry forward, and Mondavi recognised in Chile the potential he had seen in Napa in the 1960s. He knew that his partnership with Ch. Mouton Rothschild (Opus One) had been key to changing Napa’s reputation – and the duo hoped that their own joint venture might do the same for Chile: Seña (literally meaning “signal”) was born. Bob’s son, Tim Mondavi worked with Chadwick on the project and suggested looking for a site closer to the coast in the Aconcagua Valley, in search of even greater finesse, producing the first vintage in 1995.  And Chadwick didn’t stop there. His father had purchased an estate in the Alto Maipo in 1945, home to a polo field (Eduardo’s father, Alfonso, had captained the Chilean team for years). In 1992, Chadwick convinced his father to let him transform the polo field – with its pure gravel soils and 15˚C diurnal swing – into a vineyard, feeling it was perfect for Cabernet Sauvignon. Alfonso died the following year, but the first vintage of this project – Viñedo Chadwick, named in honour of his father – was made in 1999.   Chadwick knew the wines were good – but convincing the world of that fact was the challenge. He’s clear that Chile made a major error in churning out great-value, entry-level wines – good, but not fine wines – a price-point that came to define the nation. “That’s why it was very difficult to convince the audience that we can also produce world-class wines,” says Chadwick. “Chile had no recognition. We had no ratings, no Parker points, no Suckling points.” And so he set about changing that with the Berlin Tasting.  With that event’s market-shifting results (then echoed around the world), he’d created momentum for change. A decade later, he went on to break through another boundary: the 2014 Viñedo Chadwick became the first Chilean wine to earn 100 points (from James Suckling). Just last year, the 2021 vintage was the first Chilean wine rated 100 points by the Wine Advocate. When I sat down with him March this year, it was at an event paying tribute to the two decades that have passed since the Berlin Tasting – featuring early vintages from each estate, and their greatest successes. The 1998 Seña was a particular standout – a cool vintage that today is perfumed, elegant, bright and effortlessly long. Any doubters of Chilean wine were instantly quieted. And, as with the Berlin tasting, the event was being replicated around the globe – the campaign to champion Chilean wine never ending.  When Chadwick started in 1983, Viña Errázuriz had just 10 hectares of vineyard. Today, across their estates, Chadwick farms 900 hectares of vines. He bought out his siblings years ago, when he found they were more interested in dividends than growing and investing in the business. Now three of his four daughters are working alongside him – excited by the potential of coastal sites (where they make the Las Pizarras wines) and a new sparkling project. There has been no shortage of challenges along the way, but they’ve only fuelled Chadwick’s relentless pursuit of recognition for Chile and its wines. “Where we are today is beyond my wildest dreams,” he tells me, and yet it’s only because of his tireless ambition that Chilean wine has made it to this point. Fortunately, it looks like his children have inherited his determination – ready to rule over the next chapter of this epic story.  Explore all listings of Viña Errázuriz, Seña and Viñedo Chadwick or read more about Chile 

In the last 40 years, Eduardo Chadwick has single-handedly forged a place for Chile in the fine wine arena. Two decades after the pivotal Berlin Tasting, Sophie Thorpe sat down with the man himself to explore his legacy – and what lies ahead 

20 years after the Berlin Tasting, we sit down with Eduardo Chadwick – the man that created Chile’s first icon wines, Sena, Vinedo Chadwick and Errazuriz

Championing Chile – Eduardo Chadwick

Championing Chile: Eduardo Chadwick

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

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

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

Talking to Charles Heidsieck’s Elise Losfelt

A waiting game: Champagne Charles Heidsieck

It’s easy to sneer at Sauvignon Blanc. Its success has been its downfall. It’s one of the most popular varieties planted around the world – coming in just behind Airén (grown widely for distillation, rather than wine) and Chardonnay. In New Zealand alone – a nation that has fully tied its cart to Sauvignon Blanc – 26,559 of its 41,603 hectares of vines are dedicated to the grape (for context, the entirety of Burgundy represents a little over 28,000 hectares). It accounts for over 86% of the nation’s wine exports (the next most exported variety is Pinot Noir, at less than 4%). And yet, wine cognoscenti are inclined to dismiss it.  The variety’s historic heartland is the Loire, where it was first recorded in the 16th century, but has since spread rampantly around the globe, finding its way into almost every corner. Indeed, there’s even a remote stretch of Burgundy dedicated to the grape (Saint-Bris). It also gave us Cabernet Sauvignon, of which it is a parent, along with Cabernet Franc – which is some legacy.  In her benchmark Vines, Grapes & Wines, Jancis Robinson MW describes Sauvignon Blanc as “aggressively recognisable”. With descriptors such as cat’s pee, gooseberry, passionfruit, capsicum, grapefruit and cut-grass stereotypical, it’s hard to disagree – but there’s much more to the grape. Today, the distinctive variety is responsible for the flinty styles of Sancerre and Pouilly-Fumé, more waxy, textured Bordeaux Blanc (where it is most often – but not always – blended with Semillon and aged in oak), the exuberantly pungent styles of Marlborough, richer, weightier northern Italian examples (not to mention many with extended skin contact) – and everything in between.  Ch. Margaux’s Pavillon Blanc is one of the most famous examples of Sauvignon Blanc – and rare in Bordeaux (at the top end of the category, at least) for not including any Semillon, which has never been planted on the site. Their archive has records back to the 18th century of a “vin de sauvignon” from the property. Tasting the wine, it’s always hard to believe it hasn’t been rounded out by its local partner – and this, Aurélien Valance, says is all to do with achieving the perfect level of ripeness.  “When [people] think Sauvignon Blanc, they think about unripe Sauvignon Blanc. When it is ripe, it can have very complex and floral perfume – but the problem is that it is very difficult to get it ripe and keep enough acidity,” the Deputy Managing Director explains. Working with old vines (around 50 years old), low yields and strict selection allows Ch. Margaux, however, to produce an exceptional, age-worthy white – one that “smells of Sauvignon Blanc – but not the Sauvignon Blanc that people are used to”. For Christian Patat – the winemaker behind L’Età Più Bella and Ronco del Gnemiz, who also worked at Miani – the perfect harvest date is key to giving Sauvignon “verticality”, especially in Friuli where the wines are naturally bigger and richer than those from the Loire. If you pick too late, it becomes all about the variety – rather than the site. For him, Sauvignon Blanc is an “amplifier of different soils”, which is why he has ended up making six different single-site expressions with his wife at Ronco del Gnemiz, all made the same way so that the terroir shines through in each. Omri Ram – of Société Civile du Ch. Lafleur – echoes this idea, feeling there’s a particularly narrow window for picking Sauvignon Blanc, before the variety becomes a caricature of itself. He argues there is a “valley between two aromatic peaks” in which Sauvignon Blanc must be harvested, a window that lasts maximum three days, but as little as 20 hours in a hot vintage – so it’s essential to watch your fruit carefully, and make sure it’s on the right soils (with clay to help retain freshness and avoid hydric stress).   Patat – like the team at Ch. Margaux – is fortunate to farm old Sauvignon vines, between 40 and 50 years in age. This is ancient for the variety, which is naturally vigorous and very susceptible to Eutypa and Esca (grapevine trunk diseases which slowly kill the vine), meaning finding vines above the age of 30 is increasingly rare. Marco Simonit – the man behind the Simonit & Sirch method and master pruner to the world’s leading producers – feels that vine age, however, is key to making a “vin de lieu” (a wine of place) – and therefore combatting the onset of disease is essential for crafting great Sauvignon Blanc. He notes how it’s not just that Sauvignon (referenced affectionately as “this guy” during our conversation) seems to be more inclined to develop Eutypa/Esca, but it suffers more when diseased – showing its symptoms much more than other vines, as is most clearly seen in Bordeaux where it is farmed side-by-side with Semillon.  “I think we need to reconsider the spacing and architecture of the vines,” Simonit says. He feels that these older vineyards have survived thanks to their wider spacing, allowing each vine more room to sprawl naturally. Robert Mondavi’s I Block is a prime example – the plot of Sauvignon Blanc in To Kalon planted in the mid-1940s. These untrellised, freestanding tree-like plants stand proud and sparse, producing wine that – in Mark de Vere MW’s words – offer “a different type of complexity, elegance”, yielding just half a ton an acre. Simonit is convinced that the increased vine density of the last 30 years has contributed to the higher incidence of grapevine trunk diseases, and this type of “dynamic” architecture, exemplified by the unfashionable California sprawl, may be the solution to Sauvignon Blanc’s short life-span, helping minimise pruning cuts and giving it the space it needs – but does need to be adapted to the individual site and climate.   Andy Erickson – winemaker at Favia and star consultant – now makes wine in To Kalon (under the To Kalon Vineyard Company label) – but has fond memories of I Block, as he would trespass to taste the Sauvignon Blanc at harvest time – loving the flavour of the grape just on the cusp of harvest. He was the one who suggested planting Sauvignon Blanc at Screaming Eagle – which produces a tiny amount (30-50 cases only) of incredibly sought-after Sauvignon. There was a tiny corner of the vineyard with more alluvial, clay soils – a site that wouldn’t produce a Screaming-Eagle-grade red, so he suggested it be used for Sauvignon Blanc and Musqué (an aromatic clone of the variety, also planted at Eisele Vineyard – where it represents 80% of the vineyard). “The challenge with Sauvignon Blanc is you really need to plant it on Cabernet Sauvignon ground to make the best wines, and so it takes someone who’s really passionate – or maybe a little crazy to do that,” Erickson says.  While the Loire’s top wines have always been accepted as fine wine, as with top white Bordeaux, Sauvignon Blanc under its own name didn’t make it big until the late 20th century. Robert Mondavi shifted perceptions in California – but only by rebranding the variety. In the late 1960s, at a time when most Sauvignon Blanc in America was low quality and sweet, he created Fumé Blanc – legally registering the term as a synonym for Sauvignon Blanc with the TTB (Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau). With its European feel (inspired of course by Pouilly-Fumé), he made dry, serious Sauvignon Blanc – and, at the top end, fermented the wine in oak. At the time, it was radical – and soon the wines earned international acclaim.  Meanwhile, something was going on Down Under. David Hohnen – who had just won a Jimmy Watson trophy for his Cabernet Sauvignon at Cape Mentelle, Margaret River – was visited by a handful of travelling Kiwi winemakers. They left him with a bottle of something new, a Sauvignon Blanc (which had only been planted for the first time in New Zealand in 1973). “He hadn’t tasted anything like it before,” Jim White, Cloudy Bay’s Technical Director, tells me. Hohnen happened to have a Kiwi cellar hand at the time, and asked him to bring back more Sauvignon when he went home for Christmas. In 1984, Hohnen went to New Zealand. He persuaded Kevin Judd – then winemaker at Selaks – to come make wine for him. They couldn’t find Sauvignon Blanc at first, so the first vintage in 1984 was a Marlborough Semillon. The following vintage, they bought a truckload of Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough, and ferried it all the way up to Gisborne to make the wine.  With such a small population, machine harvesting was the only option in New Zealand – and this, combined with the additional skin contact from the fruit’s minimum 12-hour journey to Gisborne, extracted more tannin than they’d wanted, but also thiol precursors – the compounds responsible for Sauvignon’s pungent aromas. Hohnen didn’t put “New Zealand” on the front label, feeling people wouldn’t take it seriously. By 1986, they had built their own winery (having persuaded an angling-loving Scot to stump up a million dollars to fund the project, on the basis that he’d have access to the best trout fishing in the world). The vineyards needed work – and Hohnen’s experience was key, bringing knowledge of canopy management, reducing water and nitrogen and reducing yields. The wines took off, and Cloudy Bay was born.  For White, vineyard location is the foundation of top Sauvignon Blanc – needing stony, free-draining soils to contain the variety’s natural vigour, hence why they prefer the heart of the Wairau Valley. Combine this with enough leaf plucking to allow for sufficient airflow, but avoid over-exposing the fruit, and this allows them to harvest ripe fruit that still has beautiful acidity – echoing Valance’s views at Ch. Margaux. The important thing for them is to avoid the “big green monster” – ensuring they have no methoxypyrazines (green compounds), which happen to be some of the most stable compounds during maturation, and don’t disappear with time in bottle.  In New Zealand, the variety has been a victim of its own success – shoehorned as crisp, fresh and nothing more. And while that style brings undeniable joy, there are an increasing number of wines being made with wild yeast and oak to produce a less exuberant and primary style – such as Dog Point’s Section 94 and Greywacke’s Wild Sauvignon. In the Loire, it seems to be increasingly common to see oak, while in Bordeaux, there’s a shift away from, or toward reducing the use of, wood. As Pierre-Olivier Clouet of Cheval Blanc told me, in the past white Bordeaux was “too green, too excessive, too much, too oaky, too fat… too boring” – he feels that the answer isn’t necessarily to reduce the proportion of new oak, but to increase the size of barrels and age the wine longer, so that the oak adds a silkiness, density and bitterness to the finish – but not to the aromatics.   A common accusation of Sauvignon Blanc is that it doesn’t age – something many feel is a prerequisite for “fine” wine. But that simply isn’t true. If you’ve never tasted old Marlborough Sauvignon, you’re missing out. I had a bottle of 1999 Cloudy Bay a few years ago – and it was extraordinary. White, who has tasted many more mature vintages from the iconic estate than me, describes it as a little like old Semillon or Loire Chenin – developing toasty, honeyed notes, yet it retains the overt freshness and expressiveness of the distinctive style. Ch. Margaux was recently reconditioning their stocks of Pavillon Blanc, and Valance had the opportunity to taste vintages back to 1926 – almost all of which he says were fabulous. He feels it ages at least 20-30 years, and more in top years.  Today, things have come full circle – Sauvignon Blanc is a brand of its own, and Robert Mondavi is even dropping the “Fumé Blanc” phrasing from its more entry-level bottlings of the variety. But, despite this and the undeniable quality of the wines, Sauvignon Blanc never quite seems to steal the limelight. “There’s a glass ceiling for Sauvignon Blanc,” White says. “It’s about 93 points.” The Cloudy Bay team was delighted when their oaked, limited-edition Te Koko cuvée earned 95 points in Decanter last year – but it’s the exception, rather than the rule. And even though they’ve had wines score higher than Pavillon Blanc, they’ll rarely be considered in the same category as either those, or the likes of the Loire’s Dagueneau and Vatan. “It’s too easy for people to understand, it makes it too enjoyable – and therefore it’s no longer the coveted thing that you have to have years of education to appreciate,” White says.  In an age of unicorn-hunting, “popular” can be the ultimate insult. And yet there’s a reason that so many people have fallen for the charms of Sauvignon Blanc. Don’t let its commercial success put you off – there’s much more to this grape than first meets the eye.  Keep an eye out for our pick of the best Sauvignon Blanc from around the world – or, in the meantime, read more Editorial 

Maligned by many, adored by more, Sauvignon Blanc divides wine-drinkers – and no more so than the wine-drinking elite. But why? Sophie Thorpe talks to the people behind some of the world’s best examples to explore the grape’s status today

Sauvignon Blanc divides wine-drinkers – and no more so than the wine-drinking elite. But why? Cloudy Bay, Ch. Margaux, Andy Erickson and others tell us more

Sauvignon Blanc – fashion victim

Fashion victim: Sauvignon Blanc

Swiss-born Jacky Lorenzetti made his fortune in real estate. In 2006, he branched out into sport – becoming the majority shareholder in Racing 92, a then-struggling Paris rugby team that has, with his significant investment, become one of Europe’s best. Having sold his company (Foncia), he bought his first wine estate in 2008. He and his wife Françoise visited Ch. Lilian Ladouys – a Cru Bourgeois in Saint-Estèphe – and instantly fell in love with it. They acquired Ch. Pédesclaux a year later, then half of Ch. d’Issan in 2013 (which had long been owned by the Cruse family, who retained the other half). In September 2021, Lorenzetti purchased the Fourth Growth Ch. Lafon-Rochet. This property, with its iconic yellow château and labels, is just a stone’s throw from Ch. Lilian Ladouys (where the Lorenzettis live), separated from each other only by the D2 road.  The estate has a long history stretching back to the 16th century, but its modern era began under the Tesseron family (famous for their Cognac), who bought the estate in 1960, and purchased Ch. Pontet Canet in 1975. Although the château’s mustard-yellow shade has rapidly become part of its identity, it was only painted this colour in 2000, with a matching label and capsule re-design, under Michel Tesseron. Basile Tesseron took over in 2007, hiring Jean-Claude Berrouet (of Pétrus) as consultant – the first on the Left Bank to do so. Quality rose significantly under the Tesseron rule, but not to the same extent as Pontet Canet.  In 2022, Emmanuel Cruse and Jacky Lorenzetti formed Vignobles Cruse Lorenzetti – making their ongoing partnership official, with the new company responsible for all four of their properties in Saint-Estèphe and Pauillac. Their first act was to hire Christophe Congé as Managing Director. Bordeaux-born and -bred, Congé isn’t moving far – having spent 24 years at Lafon-Rochet’s neighbour, Ch. Lafite-Rothschild, working as Eric Kohler’s right-hand man, in charge of the winemaking for both the First Growth and Ch. Duhart-Milon, as well as being responsible for the estate’s on-site cooperage.   Tasting through a host of vintages, Lafon-Rochet has a clear style – classical, restrained and linear, very typical Saint-Estèphe, although there’s none of the rusticity of yore in recent vintages. In warm vintages like 2009, its clay subsoils keep the vines’ roots cool – adding a depth of fruit and plushness to the mid-palate, while cooler years like the superb 2014 are sleek and perfumed. For such a modest estate, the wines age beautifully – with the 1996 fully resolved yet vibrant and hard to resist.  The 2021s were made by the Tesserons, but Congé blended the wines and the just-released 2022 was his first full vintage at the helm – and it’s an impressive début. Given the hot, dry conditions of the year, Saint-Estèphe thrived – and Lafon-Rochet offers surprising freshness, with a linear mouthful of crunchy and pure cassis fruit.  There has already been a focus on sustainability here – with the vineyards farmed organically since 2021 (and certification set for 2024), and an agroecology project launched in 2019, planting 4.5km of hedgerows and 53 different tree species across the estate – but there is set to be more emphasis in the future. A new cellar and vat house should be completed in 2025, and changes are already being implemented with increased selection, smaller fermentation tanks and larger oak vessels; in the vineyard they are doing more soil studies and looking at possible replanting.  Talking to Congé and Cruse, the ambition here is clear, with “a new era” being declared. They’re looking to put Lafon-Rochet back in serious play alongside Saint-Estèphe’s other Classed Growths – and if things go as planned, this bright estate will soon be snapping at the heels of Calon Ségur. Watch this space.  Browse all listings of Ch. Lafon Rochet or read more about Bordeaux Photography: Emma Tournier

Change is afoot at Saint-Estèphe’s Ch. Lafon-Rochet – with new owners and big plans in the pipeline. Sophie Thorpe reports on the changes and what lies ahead for the Fourth Growth

With the new team’s first vintage released, we sat down with Emmanuel Cruse and Christophe Congé to find out more about what’s happening at Ch. Lafon-Rochet

The new team at Ch. Lafon-Rochet

Meeting the new team at Ch. Lafon-Rochet

The Vauthier family is among Saint-Emilion’s most influential. The custodians of Ch. Ausone, they have been knocking about this medieval village since the 17th century, with the young team running Ausone today the 11th generation to make wine there. But the Vauthiers’ presence in Saint-Emilion spreads far beyond Ch. Ausone. They have also been in charge of neighbouring estate Ch. Moulin Saint-Georges since 1921, Ch. de Fonbel since 1971 and more recently Ch. Simard and Ch. Haut-Simard (since 2008). Their latest acquisition (again in Saint-Emilion) is the famed four-hectare site of Ch. la Clotte – another jewel in an impressive line-up of estates. Edouard Vauthier, the latest to join the business full-time (in 2019), likes to classify their properties using (heaven forbid) the Burgundy hierarchy. “If Ch. Ausone is the Grand Cru,” he says, “then La Clotte and Moulin Saint-Georges, still on the limestone plateau, are the Premier Cru equivalent. Ch. de Fonbel and the Simard estates are not on limestone but on sandier, clay soils, and therefore represent the village wines.” Tasting through the wines of all six estates, there is an undeniable similarity in style running through them. They all have such a refined tannic texture and purity of fruit, even in the least expensive bottlings of Ch. Simard and Fonbel. Edouard believes this is very much down to the family’s personal taste when it comes to ripeness levels, and their methods of extraction and maceration at fermentation. But it is not only this. When Alain Vauthier (Edouard’s father) took over the estates in 1999, he had huge ambitions for his “village” wines, Fonbel and Simard. “My father wanted to apply the same meticulous attention to detail in all his wines, whatever the family accountant might think,” he chuckles. Given the price of Simard on release is less than £10 a bottle, it might not make much financial sense to give it the same attention as Ausone, but they do – making these wines outstanding value. At this price, the wines are ideal for restaurants, with much of the stock held back specifically for them.  The Vauthier family’s eye for detail, even in these inexpensive wines, has also been to Ausone’s benefit. Simard, Fonbel and even Moulin Saint-Georges have all been a hotbed of experiments over the last two decades and have really helped, Edouard believes, enhance the quality at Ausone.   As trends changed in the region, Ausone, admits Edouard, adapted their extraction methods, notably from 2006 onwards. They also reduced the toasting of the barrels from 2011, which they felt was hiding some of the fruit, and you can taste the change in the oak regime comparing the wines over this period. Ausone is aged in 100% new oak, even today, but the change in toasting, he feels – and I agree, has greatly improved the wine. Tasting the older vintages today, while the oak is more present, the wines have not lost their unique identity – the sinewy yet refined tannins and amazing freshness are still very present, and the wines have matured beautifully. Despite Ausone’s premiership at this time, Edouard’s father Alain loved to experiment. Edouard jokes that his father was a little too obsessed with machinery. From about 2008 onwards he was buying up all sorts of state-of-the-art equipment, predominantly to try and raise the quality of their other estates. Being able to constantly compare these wines against Ausone was a healthy barometer. While many of these investments didn’t pay off, his father’s open-mindedness led to a magnificent discovery which was to have a huge influence on the Vauthier recipe and Saint-Emilion more widely today. He was the first vigneron in the world to trial the density sorting bath.  “It’s a very simple machine, perhaps that’s why we like it,” Edouard laughs. “If the machinery becomes complicated, we don’t understand anything.” The original design was used in pea production and was then modified to work for grapes. As the berries arrive at the winery, they are submerged, for less than a second, in a bath made up of a water and sugar solution. “It is a simple calculation,” says Edouard. “The density level can be adjusted so that any grape not sufficiently dense (and therefore concentrated) is disposed of. It brings 100% reliability to the sorting.” For the family, when they switched to using the machine, there was a clear distinction when it came to fruit purity in the wine.  But Edouard believes the density sorting machine is not only for sorting the grapes. Because the berries are submersed in water prior to fermentation, it cleans the berries. “All the dirt, all the dust, all the small particles are washed off. Going into the fermentation process you have a very clean tank and it results in a very clean fermentation. There are no impurities.”  As with all their experiments, the density bath was first tested at Ch. Simard in 2011. So happy with the initial results, they introduced it to Moulin Saint-Georges in 2012. By 2013 all three cellars and all six wines were equipped with the machine. Every grape of Ch. Ausone since 2013 has undergone density sorting. Tasting the wines from 2013 through to 2020, they have only become more ethereal. The purity of fruit is undeniable. This is not only down to the density bath, but with such a clean fermentation and a knowingness of the concentration levels of the berries, the winemaking team, Edouard explains, didn’t need to overly extract to get concentration or flavour into the wine. “We were ahead of the game,” he says, “and it was fortunate my father was friends with the inventor. We were one of the first using it.” Today Edouard estimates that at least 25% of Saint-Emilion properties use the method. Despite the advancements in technology, the Vauthier family knows that terroir remains the trump card in Saint-Emilion. Despite Alain’s meticulous attention to detail and however perfectly made the wines are, Simard or Fonbel will never give you the complexity you find in the berries of Ausone. It is the one part of the recipe that cannot be changed.  Saint-Emilion is a variable appellation, but its uniqueness lies in the presence of limestone. It is this that gives the wines low pH and naturally high acidity resulting in a natural freshness and energy in the wine. The grapes of Simard and Fonbel are grown on more fertile soils, which means the yields are naturally higher and therefore less complex. It also means more work needs to be done to manage mildew and disease.  “It’s harder to make wine here,” says Edouard. “Ausone, we are lucky, it is in the perfect place. Although every inch is manicured, it doesn’t take that much work to maintain the quality.” Back in 2008, the Vauthiers did extensive research on the availability of water across their Saint-Emilion properties. It turns out Ausone, even in the driest years, can still access enough moisture through the entire year, necessary for the vines to avoid water stress, thanks to its limestone soils. It is a special site.   The biggest surprise for Edouard when understanding his family’s vineyards was the natural difference in the quality of berries from site to site. “It is something that cannot be explained,” he says, “other than terroir. If you taste the grapes from each of our properties, all at the same period, at the same level of ripeness. Moulin Saint-Georges and La Clotte will have maybe three to four times more flavours and aromas than Simard and Fonbel and at Ausone it is 10 times more. I can’t tell you why, but it is true.” It is fascinating to think that despite all the improvements, Edouard believes it’s difficult to produce an unremarkable wine at Ausone. No doubt it is the reason it has been a prime viticultural site for over 2,000 years. Even back in the day, using basic traditional methods, the results still proved to be incredible. “When you taste old Ausone,” says Edouard, “it is light, aérien, everything is super smooth, delicate and balanced. While we can play with extraction and oak, in the bottle, we always have an Ausone typicity in the end.” His family’s job, he believes, is simply make sure nothing goes wrong.  Despite Edouard’s humble assertions, there is no doubt that the wines today are spectacular, the younger vintages only becoming more ethereal, and more refined. There are few wines, if any, that perfectly embody the magic of Cabernet Franc on limestone, a perfect base recipe from Mother Nature’s hand – but with the Vauthiers in charge, Ausone is in good hands.   Explore all current Ausone listings or read more Editorial

We recently hosted an event with Ch. Ausone in London, tasting nine vintages of the wine, as well as a flight from the Vauthier family’s other estates. We caught up with Edouard Vauthier to discuss what makes the property unique – and where the magic lies in this idiosyncratic Bordeaux appellation

Edouard Vauthier tells us what makes Chateau Ausone so special and why terroir is everything in Saint-Emilion.

Finding the perfect recipe at Chateau Ausone

Ch. Ausone: the Vauthier vision

Everyone remembers their first bottle of Soldera, such is its impact on the senses. Speak to anyone lucky enough to have tasted it and watch their eyes glaze over as they are immediately transported back to the moment, the friends they shared it with and no doubt the food it accompanied. It is one of those rare wines that has a way of imprinting itself on the memory. Such is the magic at work in seemingly every bottle of this special Tuscan red that it’s not just the first bottle, but every bottle that you remember. This year marks the 50th anniversary of the founding of this enigmatic estate set in the hills of Montalcino. In its comparatively short existence, the wine has built a considerable reputation, yet after founder Gianfranco Soldera passed away in 2019, the property finds itself at an interesting crossroads. Right up until his death, Gianfranco Soldera had very much been the face of the estate. His personality and strong opinions made him a memorable character – and a man not beyond controversy. He was a leading voice against the Brunello consortium’s handling of the Brunello-gate scandal in 2008 and fiercely believed that Brunello should be 100% Sangiovese. In 2012, his winery was the victim of sabotage, in which large volumes of wine (from vintages between 2007 and 2012) were lost – simply poured down the drain. After the attack, the Brunello consortium offered to help club together and replace the wine, but Soldera rejected the offer and soon left the consortium (although the exact reasons behind his resignation or expulsion are unclear). After this incident, Soldera simply labelled his wine as Toscana IGT (today IGP), to make a point that his wine was and will always be 100% Sangiovese. Despite his polarising nature, ultimately Soldera let his wines do the talking. He was incredibly ambitious from the start, setting out to produce a wine that would compete with the world’s finest – a feat he achieved remarkably quickly, considering he started the vineyard from scratch – replanting the vineyards in their entirety when he arrived at the estate in 1972.  While Gianfranco was the face of Soldera, he did not work alone. The estate has always been a family affair. Both Gianfranco’s son Mauro and daughter Monica, along with her husband Paolo Franco, have worked at the estate for many years. It is Monica’s husband who has since taken charge of the winemaking at Soldera, after working alongside Gianfranco for 16 years.  As we sit down to taste through seven vintages of Soldera that span 21 years, Monica introduces her husband, on what is his first visit to the UK as Soldera’s winemaker. She makes the point that before joining the family business, Franco was in fact a skilled silversmith – requiring a keen sensibility of the hands, eyes and mind. Skills, she believes, are ideal for working at Soldera, and perfectly attuned to her father’s perfectionist mentality. Gianfranco was by all accounts not an easy man to work with. “It’s a difficult job,” Monica laughs. “We are not him, but we try our best.”  Monica also explains that, despite her father’s headstrong approach, he was always open to advice and frequently invited university students to the estate, experimenting with vines on the property, exploring ways to bring out the best in the grapes and vines. Monica believes that science is the key to making wine more naturally. “The more we study, the more natural our processes become,” she says. Working with students has allowed them to fine-tune what they do, keeping the vines healthy in the shifting climate. The 2017 vintage – the penultimate wine made under Gianfranco’s watch – is due to be released later this year. It was a very difficult vintage in Tuscany, with a ferocious heatwave in the summer of 2017. There were concerns that it might be similar to 2003, when their vines were badly affected by the high temperatures. But to their surprise, the vines showed no signs of water stress, the leaves remained green and rich in colour. Soldera felt this was down to the vines’ deep roots and higher trellising, something they introduced after 2003.  Despite the lack of water in 2017, the team was still able to work with a bigger canopy – meaning more leaves to shade the grapes. The intensity of the summer saw them harvest the grapes a whole month earlier than is typical, starting on 26th August. “To lose one month is extraordinary,” says Monica. Production was also down to 11,000 bottles, versus a normal 15,000. Technically they are allowed to produce as many as 50,000, giving an idea of how much they are prepared to sacrifice to maintain their high standards. Tasting the 2017, there is only a hint of the heat that severely marked the vintage for many of Soldera’s neighbours. The wine still has the trademark perfumed aromatics of old rose and the sinewy tannins that flex beautifully on the palate. It is easily one of the most elegant wines produced in Montalcino in 2017. The 2017, however, was always going to struggle to live up to its predecessor, the 2016– a vintage that is amongst the very best in the region. Monica noted just how easy 2016 was in terms of the growing season; everything was just right, right up until harvest. The sheer amplitude of aromas is really quite extraordinary, with strawberry fruit, old rose perfume, fiery earthy, irony, ferric tones and a wild floral note. The energy on the palate is wonderful and thick, tender, with almost elastic-like tannins that make the mouth water. The wine has such vibrancy and a really long finish. The 2015 as a vintage sits somewhere between 2016 and 2017 in style. While it was very warm, the vines were less affected and produced wines of great concentration. The wine does not have the aromatic amplitude of the 2016 and is nuttier in its aromas rather than perfumed, but seemingly the signature of Soldera – those tender tannins, like silk, bring so much energy and emotion to the wine. The 2014 is perhaps a surprise highlight of the flight. It was a difficult vintage, with lots of rain. For Monica, it proved very tough and required lots of sorting and fruit selection. In the end they got just 400kg of fruit from one hectare, making just 8,400 bottles. The dried rose, perfumed scent is matched by earthier, ferric tones. I get tomato leaf – which is often considered negative in tasting notes – but here it adds a wild, lifted, herbal tone that brings more complexity to the wine, complementing the sweeter rose notes and savoury, dried-stone aromas. The breadth on the palate is where the magic really is. It stretches right across the palate and brings such effortless depth too. The tannins are still tight but just starting to ease up, and there is so much freshness too. It really is in a wonderful place. A 10-year gap and the 2004 is the wine of the flight. Despite the bottle age, the scented Pinot Noir-esque perfume is still there in abundance, matched again by an earthy ferric richness. The tannins have eased up as you would expect, developing more mid-palate richness, making the wine incredibly juicy. The tannins are still elastic and bring a huge lift to the palate. It is a mesmerising wine. It was a great vintage in Tuscany, albeit with moderate temperatures for Montalcino, and it has matured beautifully. Some argue that Soldera excels in more moderate vintages – something that shines through in the 2004 and 2014.  The 1999 is another great vintage in Brunello and the next wine in the line-up. Distinct tertiary notes are now showing on the wine, with blue cheese, roasted walnut, dried cherry, sage and light herbal tones mingling together. There is still so much vibrancy to the wine. The tannins are not quite as silky as the younger vintages, but the acid is still so striking. It definitely feels like a wine of its age and, despite the minimal approach at Soldera, the framework suggests extraction levels were higher back then, in keeping with the trends of the time. It is a lovely wine, but not as ethereal as others. Finally, the 1996: at 26 years of age still holds on to those wonderful, scented aromatics as exuberant as ever. Again, matched with more tertiary notes, blue cheese along with dried cherry fruit, lots of dry extract, the tannins as structured and sinewy as ever, but still very fresh. It’s an unforgettable flight of some of Montalcino’s top vintages, but it’s Soldera’s ethereality that emerges – with that heady mesmerising scent and tender tannins consistent across the wines. Soldera might thrive in cooler vintages, but the quality of this wine rarely drops below outstanding. Even without Gianfranco at the helm, it’s clear that – under the watchful eye of Monica Soldera, Paolo Franco, and the rest of the Soldera family, not to mention their research team – the estate has a very exciting future ahead. Huge thanks to Zubair at Raeburn Fine Wines for organising the event. Discover the history of Soldera and all current back vintages available

It’s 50 years since Soldera – the iconic Tuscan estate that crafts some of the region’s finest Sangiovese – was established. To mark the occasion, Gavin Smith caught up with Monica Soldera to taste through back vintages and talk about what lies ahead for the remarkable property

Soldera is the iconic Tuscan estate who crafts some of the region’s finest Sangiovese wines. We caught up with Monica Soldera to taste through back-vintages

Soldera: tasting 50 years of a Tuscan wine icon

Defining Soldera: tasting 50 years of a Tuscan icon

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

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