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  

Jaime Araujo’s surname is a familiar one to Napa collectors. Her parents Daphne and Bart purchased the famed Eisele Vineyard in Calistoga in 1990 and established their eponymous winery on the site shortly after. Jaime was enrolled in university at the time and wouldn’t join her parents in Napa for many years, instead spending over two decades studying and working in Europe, including a stint at Moët Hennessey. She arrived in Napa in 2012 to work alongside her parents as a business consultant, but the job was short-lived, when the winery and Eisele Vineyard was sold to Artémis Domaines (the parent company of Ch. Latour) in 2013.   While her parents went on to establish Accendo Cellars, with Jaime and her brother as partners, the itch to build a business of her own only grew stronger. “I always wanted to run a business as a force for good,” she recalls. She got her chance during the first vintage at Accendo in 2013, when she turned a Cabernet Sauvignon lot that didn’t quite fit in with any of the Accendo cuveés into her first 300 cases of Trois Noix wine. (The name – French for “three nuts” – is a cheeky reference to her two children, as well as her brother’s daughter, all quite young at the time.)   Despite her family’s legacy, and perhaps the temptation to enter the market at the top end, as many newcomers do, Jaime was intent to create wines that were approachable and embodied sustainability ideals. This included a pricing strategy that skewed heavily towards affordable options, ranging from $30-50 per bottle and the most expensive Cabernet Sauvignon topping out at $150. “I’m not in this to make billions,” she laughs. “It’s so important that Napa is accessible to as many people as possible. You have to be welcoming and make wines that appeal to everyone.”    Even before Jaime was developing her brand, Steve Matthiasson had been quietly establishing a reputation as one of Napa’s most respected organic winegrowing experts. After studying horticulture as a graduate student at the University of California Davis, he launched his wine career in 1995 as a viticultural consultant, going on to settle in Napa with his wife Jill Klein Matthiasson in 2002 and building an impressive client roster. Since 2007, Steve has worked closely with the Araujo family, first for Eisele vineyard – where he continues to consult – as well as at Accendo. Other current and past clients include Dalla Valle, Spottswoode and Chappellet.   The process of becoming a winemaker in addition to viticulturalist, however, has been a slow and steady process. Matthiasson says he learned about wine almost by osmosis over the years, sitting in on client tastings and by keen observation. In 2003, Steve and Jill produced just 120 cases under their name, but by 2017, they reached a major milestone with the purchase of a small winemaking facility and neighbouring vineyard in the Oak Knoll AVA – a massive accomplishment for two outsiders with little initial capital. Last year, their production reached 12,000 cases, stretched across 25 unique cuveés. Today, Steve farms most of the vineyards he makes wine from, including a small vineyard at his home, where he has planted rows of northern Italian varieties, including Refosco, Ribolla Gialla and Schioppettino.   Inside the compact Matthiasson winery, cosy by Napa standards, foudres line the walls and nearly every inch is occupied with equipment, case goods and barrels. In the corner, a stack of large glass jars filled with liquids of varying colours sits – the aromatics steeping in alcohol for vermouth, Steve explains, which he and his wife make along with olive oil and jam, as accompaniments to the unique lineup of wines Matthiasson produces, ranging from single-vineyard Cabernets to more esoteric fruit and wine co-ferments. While many collectors still may not have heard of Matthiasson, Steve says he is proud to be sought after by sommeliers and others in the wine trade: “We like to say we’re the musicians’ musician.”   Both Jaime and Steve believe strongly that their businesses must be both environmentally and socially responsible. “It’s so important to stand up for what you believe in,” Jaime emphasises. Today, Trois Noix boasts a range of sustainability initiatives, including B Corp status, a high-level sustainability certification which only two other wineries in Napa currently possess. Though not specific to wine or agriculture, B Corp certification is awarded after a rigorous assessment to prove a dedication to positive community impact alongside profit.   In the same vein, all of the vineyards Steve farms for Matthiasson are organic, which is the certification that is the most meaningful to him – and represents a full circle of sorts from his early days studying agriculture, when winemaking was not yet on the horizon. “Organic farming has become not just accepted but embraced since I’ve been here,” Steve says, saying that it’s becoming the norm rather than the exception, especially so for the most well-known cult Napa wineries. “And it’s not just for PR,” he adds, saying many don’t broadcast their farming practices. “They truly believe it makes better wine.” Steve believes the standard of farming has improved dramatically since he arrived in Napa and so has the quality of the resulting fruit. “As the years have gone by, our ability to do the right thing has increased,” he says.  The resulting wines that both Trois Noix and Matthiasson produce are crafted in a fresh style, with an emphasis on primary fruit and terroir-specific cuvées, as opposed to dominant oak or heavy extraction that have been the trend for fine wine in Napa. Araujo says she is trying to craft wines that are reminiscent of Napa 50 years ago, by using a light hand. “We started getting bigger and bolder in Napa, and that’s fine, but we can do this, too, and do it well.” Araujo describes her goal each vintage as crafting wines in a “sweet spot”, built to enjoy immediately but also with the structure and acidity to age for several years at a minimum.    At Matthiasson, pick dates are watched closely, and occur on the early side for Napa, so that alcohols remain low and acidity is naturally brisk. Other than a small amount of sulphur, no other additions are made. “We utilise traditional winemaking methods,” Steve says – quick to note, though, with a laugh, that there is a difference between “natural and natty”, explaining that his goal is to make fresh, clean wines from the healthiest fruit possible. Unlike other Napa wineries that employ optical sorters and tables lined with harvest workers examining every berry, Mathiasson does not sort the fruit prior to fermentation, trusting instead in the farming and meticulous picking over multiple passes.   “We’ve always been an agricultural community, and no one wanted to talk about that for a long time,” Jaime tells me. She believes the future of Napa will be a focus on not just high quality but also history, community and a reputation for doing the right thing. These will not be talking points for her brand only, however, as last year she was elected Board Chair of the Napa Valley Vintners. A nonprofit trade association founded in 1944, NVV acts as a voice for the wine business in Napa Valley, promoting, supporting and advocating for its over 500 members. “I’m a bridge between old and new because of my family and my experience,” Jaime says, explaining that she hopes to bring a fresh perspective on the future of Napa, one that emphasises a range of styles and price points, but most of all, is able to welcome a wider range of people than ever before, by showing the varied people and places of the region. Matthiasson voices a similar ethos. “The wine business has so much artifice, but we want to let people in.”  Matthiasson and Trois Noix collaborated on a special lot for Premiere Napa Valley last year – a lot that we purchased and will soon be releasing. Please contact your Account Manager to register interest. 

In a region where wine is often a byword for luxury, two producers are dedicated to reminding drinkers of Napa’s humble roots. Rachael Ryan – Senior Buyer for our US arm, Vinfolio – talks to Jaime Araujo and Steve Matthiasson about their philosophy, farming and approach to making wine 

Two Napa wine producers are championing economic, environmental and social sustainability: we talk to Trois Noix’s Jaime Araujo and Steve Matthiasson 

Farming for the future: Trois Noix and Matthiasson 

It’s a damp and foggy morning when I arrive once again in the very quiet streets of Auxey-Duresses for my annual pilgrimage to taste the new Maison Leroy Collection. Last year Madame Lalou Bize-Leroy was in Monaco, so I’m looking forward to seeing and tasting with her again – on what happens to be her daughter’s birthday. Two dogs rush out to greet me eagerly – the 13-year-old black poodle Nine and five-year-old Grand Basset Griffon Vendéen Olga, both quickly quietening down once appeased with some gentle pats. Madame, meanwhile, stands behind them, as elegant and unassuming as ever.   Talking briefly about the state of the market, she repeats how the most important thing is the happiness of our clients. It was at the forefront of her mind when she decided on the wines in this year’s collection, which is dominated by the 2017 and 2018 vintages, with the oldest wine from 2011. It’s good to mix things up, she tells me. After last year’s extensive library release with a flurry of back-vintages, this year she wanted to give the youngsters a chance to shine.  She describes 2018 as a more complete vintage, there is more wine, more matière than 2017; nonetheless 2017 is more refined and delicate, somehow more approachable. We talk about what makes a “grand vin” and she says: “La qualité, c’est les rendements.” (“Quality, it’s the yield.”) Taking Aligoté as an example, she explains that she’ll rarely make as much as 20hl/ha for the Domaine Leroy and Domaine d’Auvenay Aligoté – and for her that’s the limit for producing a high-quality wine. It is impossible to make a good Aligoté at 40hl/ha, she argues – and as she knows from tasting those watery, dilute wines. “I’d actually rather drink water,” she confesses. It’s no secret that her Aligoté is special: and Gilles Desprez (Bize-Leroy’s right-hand man) notes how he was once blown away by a bottle of 1999 D’Auvenay Aligoté served to him blind – a wine that those around the table all thought was a Grand Cru white.  There’s no better judge of a wine than blind tasting – as Bize-Leroy knows. To this day, she blind-tastes everything that makes its way into bottle under the Maison Leroy label. She was recently tasting some 2024s for the range and notes how it’s easy to find a great Nuits-Saint-Georges or Gevrey-Chambertin, but is too often disappointed with Vosne-Romanée and Chambolle-Musigny – struggling to uncover wines in these villages that are worthy of the Leroy seal of approval.  Our tasting begins with the reds this year, starting with an array of 2018s, sampled from south to north, “dans le sens de la Côte” (along the Côte), before moving through the 2017s to a 2016, 2015, 2012 and, finally, the oldest wine in this year’s collection, a 2011 Nuits-Saint-Georges.  The whites include an appellation that she rarely tastes and one that almost never makes it into the range: Savigny-lès-Beaune Blanc. The 2018 in this year’s collection, however, is special – a wine that you wouldn’t be a fool to call Corton-Charlemagne blind, she tells me. And (of course) Bize-Leroy is right: it is sumptuous, with a level of richness and density that far surpasses that of a mere “village”.  With air, it develops further, offering impressive complexity. Madame looks at Gilles: “It’s unfortunate we don’t have any Corton here to compare,” she says. Gilles confirms there isn’t any to hand while she considers the wine in front of her, before insisting – “Are you sure we don’t have any here?” The message is understood: Gilles says there may be some in another building and sets off to find it.   We keep chatting, tasting the 2018 Auxey-Duresses, a little shy after the 2018 Bourgogne Blanc (in her words: “the best Bourgogne Blanc we ever had”) and the superb Savigny. I ask if there are any wines she buys every year – an idea she’s fast to reject: she doesn’t have any contracts, each wine is selected purely on its quality in that specific vintage. I clarify that I meant if there were specific vineyards that she particularly likes, and finds herself buying year in, year out – and says that both Meursault Gouttes d’Or and Chassagne-Montrachet Morgeot are certainly favourites, although it all comes down to how they taste.   Gilles comes back with an unmarked bottle, immediately recognisable by its shape as Domaine Leroy. He is out of breath (earning some teasing, but also having run up and down 200 stairs to retrieve the bottle in question). The wine – a 2018 Corton-Charlemagne from the property – is quickly opened and served. It is typical Leroy: the nose is slightly muted, with some reduction and the popcorn-like notes that you often find in Bize-Leroy’s whites. On the palate, this is what you call packed: I have rarely found such concentration in a Corton-Charlemagne, even in ripe vintages chez Leroy. Madame states that she thinks many would call this a red if served totally blind, given its “matière”. “This is a grand vin,” she says. She explains how special the plot is, at the top of the hill, above her Corton Renardes: “C’est un terroir à rouge.” (“It’s a red terroir.”)   Going back to the Savigny-lès-Beaune Blanc seems like a pointless exercise after the Corton-Charlemagne – but is far from it. The Savigny has benefited from warming up and being open for an hour. In fact, it is far from ridiculous to compare it to its grander sibling. Indeed, Madame Bize-Leroy pauses over it, saying she finds the Savigny more balanced – the wine feeling beautifully layered, yet not heavy or dense. It is by far the best Savigny-lès-Beaune Blanc I have had the chance to try and – as proven by this comparison – would rival most Corton-Charlemagne. Of course, the 2018 Domaine Leroy Corton-Charlemagne is a baby – a wine built to age that will need years before being approachable and Bize-Leroy herself confirms that it won’t be released anytime soon. It has everything to be an exceptional wine in the future, but the Savigny is the one to drink now.  This is my 10th year at FINE+RARE and it’s relationships like this one that define our business: having the chance to share a moment with one of Burgundy’s legendary winemakers, talking openly and honestly about two of her wines, is truly special. Some are fast to dismiss Maison Leroy as “just” Bize-Leroy’s négociant label, perhaps out of ignorance or lack of exposure to the range. I can’t pretend these wines are cheap, but I also can’t pretend that Madame Leroy is like other winemakers. Her nose is remarkable, her access far-reaching, and the resulting wines one-of-a-kind. I can only admire this 93-year-old woman, the way she describes her wines, her humbleness, not to mention the wines that carry her name.  Tasting the 2025 Maison Leroy Collection 2018 Bourgogne Blanc: Maison Leroy’s 2018 Bourgogne Blanc is extremely expressive. Almost exuberant on the nose, it shows concentration, toasted almonds, juicy blood orange and verbena. The palate is equally impressive – and I would be easy to mistake this for a very good Meursault blind. Similarly to its red counterpart, the wine has gained in depth on the palate since we last tasted it. It is lively and expressive, yet with a signature fatness that’s so enjoyable. Madame Lalou Bize-Leroy tells me she has rarely, if ever, had a Bourgogne Blanc of this calibre – and we can only agree at this stage! Drink 2025-2031. 2018 Meursault: The 2018 Meursault from Maison Leroy is less immediately expressive than the Bourgogne Blanc, tasted just before – but don’t let that deceive you. You can feel the tension and seriousness of this wine, with hints of flinty minerality on the nose. The palate is concentrated and refined, nicely balanced and nuanced, with a creamy complexity. Compared to its Bourgogne sibling, this is clearly of a different calibre – a more aristocratic wine with greater density. Although approachable now, it will benefit from another three to five years in the cellar to express its full potential. Drink 2027-2035. 2018 Savigny-lès-Beaune Blanc: Maison Leroy’s 2018 Savigny-lès-Beaune Blanc is packed on the nose. Lovely brioche notes are underwritten by bruised apple and brighter citrus fruit, with delicate touches of lemon blossom. As the wine aerates, it keeps building in density, with layer upon layer – making for a wine that is beautifully fleshy and inviting. On the palate, the wine is so immediately rich and profound – it would be impossible to call this a village wine blind. It has the signature richness of a Corton-Charlemagne, perfectly balanced between power and tension. This is by far the best Savigny-lès-Beaune Blanc I have ever tasted and would be head and shoulders above most Corton-Charlemagne you can find on the market. This is drinking beautifully now but has everything to age effortlessly. Drink 2025-2040. 2018 Auxey-Duresses: Coming from a terroir that can sometime be a bit too flamboyant or invasive, Maison Leroy’s 2018 Auxey-Duresses feels very discreet after the Savigny-lès-Beaune. With notes of fresh almonds and a hint of reduction on the nose, this feels a bit muted. On the palate, the wine clearly has the concentration of the vintage, yet is quite elegant and restrained with a hint of white pepper. This is lovely but will need a few more years to be approachable. Drink 2028-2035. 2018 Bourgogne Rouge: Last tasted in February 2022, Leroy’s 2018 Bourgogne Rouge still displays a very charming, delicately perfumed nose that oscillates between dried rose petals and little red berries, but it seems to have gained in weight and density. It retains beautiful acidity balancing the concentration of the vintage, the finish is clean and vibrant. This is one of our favourite renditions of the cuvée in recent years, youthful and drinking beautifully now, this should keep evolving positively for another seven to 10 years. Drink 2025-2035. 2018 Monthélie: On the nose Maison Leroy’s 2018 Monthélie has beautiful notes of violets wrapped up in a mix of red and black berries, especially blackcurrant. Those very pure and delicate floral aromas carry through to the palate, accompanied by tannins that are very subtle, almost with a hint of sucrosity that makes one salivate. This is a very complete wine that outperforms in this warmer vintage: a wonderful expression of this terroir that, for me, displays the elegance of Volnay with a weightless mouth-feel. Drink 2027-2037. 2018 Volnay: Served just after the 2018 Monthélie, Maison Leroy’s 2018 Volnay has a slightly more discreet nose. It’s perfumed and all about finesse yet a bit shy at this stage. On the palate, there is good concentration and precision, but it does not provide the crunch and freshness that you’d expect at this stage. This is surely elegant and refined, but lacks that little twist that will surely come with a few more years in the cellar. Drink 2028-2040. 2018 Savigny-lès-Beaune: As with its white sibling, Maison Leroy’s 2018 Savigny-lès-Beaune could be mistaken for a Corton blind. It has such a concentrated, solar nose with a darker fruit profile. There’s density on the palate too, the wine fleshy and rich, but not heavy. It’s nicely balanced, with delicate tannin structure and a precise finish. It’s as juicy as it is approachable. Drink 2027-2037. 2017 Gevrey-Chambertin: This was one of the highlights of the 2022 Maison Leroy Collection when it was first released. The wine has retained all its depth, complexity and power, but has shut down a little bit. It is packed with dense dark cherries, hints of sweet spice and forest floor. On the palate the wine offers an enjoyable, mouth-coating, generous and balanced structure, yet the wine feels a bit muted compared to where it was three years ago. This is nonetheless offering a very long finish with fresher note lingering. This is surely a grand village Gevrey that will simply need to be forgotten in the cellar for a few years! Drink 2030-2040. 2017 Pommard: Maison Leroy’s 2017 Pommard speaks of its terroir, combining rich, brooding, ripe blackberry, with hints of blackcurrant and a touch of rusticity, lifted by the freshness and precision of the vintage. On the palate, it has a firm but delicate structure with chewy tannins that are both muscular and velvety. Tasted right after a flight of 2018s, this seems much more approachable (as is often the case with 2017s). The refreshing backbone of acidity drives through the core of the wine, lending a beautiful sappiness to the long finish. Drink 2025-2035. 2016 Santenay, Premier Cru, La Comme: Immediately expressive, Maison Leroy’s 2016 Santenay Premier Cru La Comme comes from this underrated terroir, on the southern border of Chassagne-Montrachet. The charming, multifaceted nose oscillates between raspberry and juicy cherry with a hint of liquorice. The wine is mouth-coating; you can feel the substance here, with a lovely texture that remains delicate and refined. This clearly shows the concentration of the vintage and its tiny yields, but it is all wrapped in a very elegant mouth-feel – creating a wine of great balance. It’s in such a lovely spot now that this is hard to spit out! Drink 2025-2035. 2015 Chorey-lès-Beaune: Packed on the nose, Maison Leroy’s 2015 Chorey-lès-Beaune is quite shy at first, but with a bit of swirling you start to notice how dense and saturated this wine is, with aromas of ripe blueberries, blackberries and a hint of spice (cinnamon maybe?). On the palate, it is concentrated with mouth-coating tannins and layers of berry fruit – raspberry, strawberry and blueberry. This has a lot to say and offer, with an impressively persistent finish, but will benefit from a few more years’ cellaring to reveal its full potential. Drink 2028-2040. 2012 Côte de Nuits Villages: Made with fruit from around Nuits-Saint-Georges and Corgoloin, Leroy’s 2012 Côte de Nuits Villages is always a bit backward on the nose and slightly austere. But it’s also elegant and delicate, the floral notes combining with tertiary notes. On the palate, this feels like it is in a slightly awkward phase, very dense with soft, integrated tannins yet somehow disjointed between the rich dark fruit and a tertiary character. I would leave this for a few more years before revisiting. Drink 2030-2040. 2011 Nuits-Saint-Georges: Finely perfumed, Leroy’s 2011 Nuits-Saint-Georges offers a delicate nose of mixed red berries supported by more earthy notes, some pot-pourri and a hint of spice. On the palate, it’s concentrated and charming, but with air opens further and shows its density, still youthful for a 14-year-old village wine. There’s a hint of rusticity towards the finish that makes one salivate. This is far from the austere expectation one may have for this combination of vintage and appellation. It’s not reached its drinking plateau but is perfectly approachable now. Drink 2025-2040. The new Maison Leroy collection will be released soon: you can see all the wines in the 2025 collection here. Please contact your Account Manager to register interest. 

Each year, our Buying + Partner Director Corentin Margier visits Maison Leroy in Auxey-Duresses to sample the new releases. Here, he reports on his tasting with “Lalou”, the legendary matriarch of the Leroy empire  

Ahead of the release of the 2025 Maison Leroy Collection, we visit Lalou Bize-Leroy to taste with the legendary matriarch and winemaker 

Lalou Bize-Leroy: a living legend – Burgundy’s matriarch 

Lalou Bize-Leroy: a living legend 

Old, low-yielding vines. I’ve written that phrase more times than I’d like to confess. But how much does it really mean when it comes to the quality of the wine in your glass? The 2023 vintage in Burgundy (read our full vintage report here) produced generous yields. In farming terms, that’s a good thing: a plentiful crop that restocks the cellars (and coffers). But the sheer volume of fruit (“a wall of grapes”, as Bouchard’s winemaker Frédéric Weber told us) posed its own challenge – and much of our time in the region’s cellars this year was spent diving into how they managed, or controlled, the yield. It seemed fitting, therefore, to address the topic in greater detail.  In the Old World, appellation rules will limit yields, with the yield generally decreasing as you move up the appellation system (see below a table detailing the maximum yields for Burgundy, for example). Of course, this indicates a relationship between yield and quality, implying less is better – and there is no doubt that excessive yields don’t produce fine wine. But how low is too low? There is a fashion for prizing vines that barely manage to ripen a bunch or two, but do they really make better wine than those producing a decent crop? Beyond our obsession with rarity, what are the consequences of less fruit per vine – and therefore, what does more entail? A note on measuring yield Before we get into the weeds of the matter, let’s address how we talk about yield. In the Old World, the most common measurement of yield is hectolitres per hectare (hl/ha), measuring the volume of juice or wine per hectare of vineyard area. In Champagne the standard measure is kilos per hectare and in Italy you may see reference to quintales per hectare (qt/ha or q/ha, with one quintal translating to 100kg), while in the US, producers are more likely to use tons per acre. We’ll dive further into the many variables here, but it’s worth highlighting that vine density isn’t taken into account by any of these measurements. Although a higher number of vines per hectare will generally mean a higher yield across the vineyard, the increased competition will also likely reduce the yield per vine. For this article, we have spoken to producers from a range of regions, but do note that yields are not comparable between varieties or region. Climate – with heat, sunlight and water availability, as well as the varying size of berries and clusters of any given variety, mean that there is no number that can be deemed a global average when it comes to yield. (Do look at this table compiled by the Wine Advocate’s William Kelley, comparing vine density, cluster weight and juice yields for various classic fine wine regions, to give you an idea of the differences between regions.) Given this, “high” and “low” yields aren’t equated to specific numbers here, but the concept discussed more broadly – and arguably more relevantly for those of us drinking wine rather than making it. Bearing all of this in mind, extremely approximate conversions can be made as follows: one tonne per hectare is approximately 7hl/ha, while one ton per acre is around 17.5hl/ha (Oxford Companion to Wine). Yields: how low is too low? “It’s not extreme mythology: low yields produce better quality,” Cerbaiona’s Matthew Fioretti tells me; for him, high yields risk dilution and sanitary problems – and at excessive levels, that is certainly true. But, as Myriad’s Mike Smith told me, the relationship is “not linear”. Mike Dunn (Dunn Vineyards) generally has low yields, but that’s not necessarily about concentration, he explains: it’s simply about how much they can ripen before winter hits. Up on Napa’s Howell Mountain, their poor soils and farming (avoiding irrigation and fertilisation where they can) naturally produce lower yields. He recently changed some of their Cabernet Sauvignon to cane (rather than cordon) pruning and, although they’re getting more fruit off the same vines, there’s been no loss in quality. “It’s all relative,” says Ivan Massonnat at Belargus in Anjou. He points to Saumur with its limestone soils, where producers can crop 45-50hl/ha without a problem, but on the schist soils that lie beneath his vineyards: “Forget about doing much more than 30-35hl/ha,” he says. And even that has proven challenging for him. In the seven vintages he’s produced at the estate, only two have come close to 30hl/ha, with the average around 15hl/ha, simply due to the challenges of each vintage. He’d have loved to crop more – but nature had other ideas, and vignerons have to adapt to the vintage. Massonnat explains how if you farm to produce yields that are overly low, you can end up with fruit that has high technical, or sugar, maturity, but isn’t yet phenolically ripe – leading to unbalanced wines. Smith echoes this, talking specifically about Beckstoffer Dr Crane, one of Napa’s legendary vineyards, which he finds likes to produce more – around five tons an acre (versus four in most of the vineyards he works with). He sees producers cropping to just three tons per acre there, and in warm vintages the fruit ripens too quickly for the phenolics to catch up. Philippe Bascaules – who was first appointed Estate Director at Ch. Margaux in 1990 – offers an interesting perspective, arguing that there’s no direct relationship between yield and quality. In Bordeaux in the 1970s, he tells me, yields were consistently low – 25-30hl/ha, with wines that were inconsistent. As the wines became more popular, with demand from the US in particular for the 1982 vintage, producers started aiming for significantly higher yields and chaptalizing much more. Soon, average yields had doubled to 50-60hl/ha – a level that was unsustainable, especially in challenging vintages such as 1992, ’93 and ’94. Gradually they implemented changes, introducing green-harvesting (in 1986 at Ch. Margaux) and reducing fertilisation levels in the 1990s. Today, he and his team aim for around 45hl/ha, “a good production” in his mind – but a level which also offers insurance against inclement conditions. Lowering yields is something that, for him, has brought greater consistency to both the estate and region across vintages – ensuring they can ripen the crop each year. Deliberately reducing the yield beyond this, however, wouldn’t offer any serious benefit, he says. Similarly, across the Durantou family’s estates on the Right Bank, including Ch. l’Eglise-Clinet, Noëmie Durantou Reilhac targets a yield of circa 42hl/ha. “The vine wants to produce fruit,” she says, “so if the yield is really, really low, something went wrong.” For her, it’s the balance that matters most. With very high yields, the resulting wines will lack concentration (“You cannot make in tanks what nature hasn’t done before,” she says), but equally if the berries are so small that there is barely any juice, you’ll have little but tannins left to work with. And, while hail or frost will reduce your yield, they won’t result in greater concentration. “I think it just comes down to stress,” Dunn tells me. And that’s a common thread for several producers, arguing that vines need to struggle to produce quality. As Sébastien le Golvet – of Champagne Henri Giraud, who works with the poor soils of Aÿ – says, “genii are born of suffering”. Suffering doesn’t always mean lower yields, however: arguably, Dunn says, in high-vigour sites, keeping higher yields will help increase stress, pushing the vine to work harder – and therefore produce higher quality. Elements impacting yield While it’s impossible for us to address every factor that influences yield, it’s worth – relatively briefly – highlighting a few additional influences beyond site (with poorer or richer soils), variety and vintage: Trellising: Trellising – the shape in which a vine is trained – can be used to control yield. At Cerbaiona, Fioretti emphasises how using alberello or bush vines is key to helping contain Sangiovese’s natural vigour. At Tiberio, Cristiana Tiberio’s oldest vines are pergola-trained, with a traditional Abruzzese system that encourages competition but also increases the canopy to aid photosynthesis and ripening. Vine material/rootstock: The material used in a vineyard is integral (as with Quinta do Noval’s Nacional vineyard, see below). Mike Dunn, for example, mentioned how one of his older vineyards was planted on St George rootstock, known for shatter and therefore limiting yields even further. Jean-Marie Fourrier (Domaine Fourrier) argues that the use of selected clones, rather than massal selection, has resulted in higher yields and the need to green harvest, something that he never does – aided further by the age of his vines (see below for more on this). Vine age: There’s no doubt that the element of vine age is conflated with yields and quality, with older vines often producing better fruit – but less of it. As Mike Dunn told me, the wines from his oldest vines are “more intriguing”, but at some point economics comes into play, and the level of production is financially unsustainable. It’s another non-linear relationship, however, as Durantou Reilhac explains: “Some 70-year-old grandmas can run and dance, and others are weaker.” Although most old vines will produce less fruit, she finds it’s far from uniform in her vineyards – and sometimes there will be young vines that produce less. Virus and millerandage: Virused vines will produce lower yields, and as with old vines, will reach a point where they are unsustainable. While on the surface virus is negative, certain producers do value the reduction in yield or slower ripening that is a result of disease – South Africa’s Hamilton Russell being one (with leafroll virus). Quinta do Noval persists with its own-rooted Nacional vineyard, suffering from phylloxera, with the vines slowly dying and yielding tiny volumes, to produce a particularly special and rare Vintage Port. Similarly, millerandage is a condition most commonly a consequence of poor weather at fruit-set, producing grape clusters with unevenly sized grapes, combining larger and smaller (or shot) berries – sometimes referenced as hen-and-chick. While this reduces yield, the phenomenon is sometimes valued for giving increased concentration to wine. Indeed, some particular clones – such as the Mendoza, Wente or Gingin clones of Chardonnay – are valued for their bunches with hen-and-chicks, and Bret Brothers, for example, even makes a special Cuvée Millerandée – with millerandée Chardonnay – from Les Quarts (a Pouilly-Vinzelles site recently awarded Premier Cru status). Cover crops: At Henri Giraud, Sébastien le Golvet feels that cover crops are essential to the quality of their fruit – and the yield. Sewn just before harvest, the cover crops provide competition up until flowering when they roll the grass mix, creating a bed that holds water and offers nitrogen to the soils, acting as a natural fertiliser – in a way both moderating then fuelling the vines’ growth. This is one hint at the extent to which the type of soils and level of organic matter, not to mention water availability, dictated by site and the farming methods, are all key. The previous vintage: There are two theories at play here. Firstly, conditions during what is known as the initiation phase of the vine cycle, which takes place alongside flowering, will dictate the yield of the following vintage. In 2023 in Burgundy for example, one of the factors in yield was that the spring of 2022 offered perfect conditions, laying the groundwork for 2023’s plentiful crop. As Sébastien le Golvet also explained, however, a large crop in one vintage can tire the vines, meaning they have less to give the following year. How wine producers manage yield The vine naturally wants to reproduce, to grow, ripen fruit and spread its seeds. Vignerons are tasked with taming the plant to focus its energies to develop fruit of concentration and complexity that will make fine wine. This is done in many ways, some of which include: Pruning: The first stage to set up the yield in an existing vineyard is pruning, leaving the appropriate number of buds per vine for the season ahead. The timing of this varies according to the producer, from December through to March, with later pruning helping delay the vine cycle, which is sometimes desirable. Alvina Pernot, for example, specifically pruned her vines shortly (ie to offer a lower crop) in 2023 to help the vines recover from the relatively high-yielding 2022 vintage. Lalou Bize-Leroy famously works with very low yields, and emphasises how important pruning is in this (Domaine Leroy harvested just under 30hl/ha in 2023, its highest ever yield – a number which would still be low by many producers’ standards). De-budding or suckering: In spring, producers will de-bud or sucker the vines, removing lateral shoots and providing further control of the potential yield, as well as the spacing and position of the crop. In 2023 in Burgundy, many producers emphasised how important this was. Hugues Pavelot described it as “drastic”, while Philippe Jouan passed through his vines twice. At Bouchard, Frédéric Weber explained how some of the buds produced two or three bunches in 2023 (rather than the normal one), meaning that even with extensive de-budding yields were very high. Green harvesting: Green-harvesting is the most discussed method of yield control, and one that divides producers. We spoke to several Burgundian vignerons who avoid it (Dominique Lafon, Jacques Devauges at Domaine des Lambrays, Philippe Jouan and Jean-Marie Fourrier, to name a few) – some of whom felt that they had no choice but to use the method in 2023, despite their best efforts. The reason against green-harvesting is that the vine will try to compensate, and that it can be avoided with managing the vineyard in other ways. That said, there are many top-tier producers that green-harvest, and feel it is key to the quality they produce (Ch. Margaux, Eglise-Clinet, Georges Noëllat and Olivier Bernstein, to name a few). And it’s not a decision that any take lightly, well aware that they are literally throwing away potential income. At Cerbaiona, Fioretti compares the vines to runners or cyclists – needing to carry as little weight as possible to get over the finish line. With Sangiovese, he finds it’s unavoidable, especially with the presence of “wings” or “shoulders” (smaller separate clusters that sit on the shoulder of the main bunch). The timing is key, and many producers emphasise the importance of green-harvesting early in the season. For Noëmie Durantou Reilhac, she aims to have this done prior to véraison to avoid twisting the stems (which would impact sap flow) and damaging the skins of the remaining bunches. She’ll do a final pass through her vineyards just before harvest, but this is a method of sorting rather than impacting the ripeness of the grapes on the vine. “There’s a certain point where you can reduce fruit, say a month away from picking, but it won’t do anything,” says Myriad’s Mike Smith. Like many producers, he favours green-harvesting mid-véraison to drop anything that is behind, helping even the ripeness of the crop – as Bascaules does at Ch. Margaux. In 2023, several Burgundy producers highlighted having to do multiple passes to reduce the crop – doing what was sometimes referred to as a “pink” or “blue” harvest on top of a green harvest. Canopy management: A vine’s leaves are its engine – responsible for photosynthesis. The larger the canopy, the larger the engine, therefore trimming the vine’s canopy can help lower its vigour, while keeping a larger leaf area can help encourage vigour. This needs to be considered alongside airflow (to avoid disease pressure) and shading of the bunches (which could delay ripening). If the canopy isn’t balanced with the volume of fruit, it can also negatively impact fruit composition – especially the acid make-up and development of colour and phenolics. Ivan Massonnat (Belargus) explained that in 2022 and 2023, for example, he used a high trellis, allowing a larger leaf area, to capture maximum light and photosynthesis to fuel the vines; but in 2022 he did the opposite, wanting to reduce the size of the “sugar machine”. It has, he notes, become common for large canopies to be used alongside low yields, especially by producers in Burgundy, something he feels has gone too far at certain addresses: “You can kill a wine with concentration,” he says. Some argue that trimming the canopy can encourage it to grow further, while others want to retain a large canopy to encourage root growth (Olivier Lamy feels that the vine has the same amount of growth above and below ground, therefore wanting to retain his canopy to the roots to drive deep into the soil). Lamy is one of a cohort of producers using “tressage”, or braiding, to tame the canopy – a technique pioneered by Lalou Bize-Leroy. For her the aim is to avoid cutting the apex (or growing tip) which would otherwise encourage the growth of lateral shoots. Producers such as Charles Lachaux have taken this even further, training vines to a single stake (more common on the steep slopes of Priorat, Côte-Rôtie or the Mosel) and weaving the shoots into distinctive arches.  The relationship between yield and quality is undoubtedly a tricky one – and one that every producer I spoke to feels is deeply complex. We couldn’t touch on everything here (the tiny yields for botrytised sweet wines, for example, or typically higher yields used for sparkling wine), but there’s plenty to consider. While it remains clear that excessive yields can produce dilute wines, with so many variables play, it’s also clear that less isn’t always better. Read more Editorial

Burgundy’s vignerons were blessed with quantity in 2023, but – when it comes to making fine wine – how much is too much? We spoke to a host of top producers to find out if low yields really do mean better quality

Do low yields really mean better quality when it comes to wine? We talk to Ch. Margaux, Cerbaiona, Eglise-Clinet, Belargus, Dunn, Myriad and more to find out

Understanding yield and quality in wine

Yield and quality: is less really more?

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

Matthew Fioretti is not everyone’s cup of tea. The man at the helm of Cerbaiona doesn’t mince his words – and he’s got firm views on, well, I suspect pretty much everything. But he’s also unwaveringly honest, with a frank approach that is enjoyably refreshing – and rather unusual in the fine wine arena. He’s got a vision and story, one that he wants to tell, but it’s not one that’s been spun by a PR agency; it’s his. Fioretti has long been involved in the world of wine, running an import business in the US (Summa Vitis), which focused largely on Italian wine. He moved to Italy in 2004, and shut down the Summa Vitis operation in 2009 as he set his sights on making wine himself. After a few false starts, he heard that Diego Molinari – the longtime owner of Cerbaiona – was looking to retire. Along with a group of investors (the most significant of which is the American collector Gary Rieschel), Fioretti purchased the property in 2015, reportedly for €5.8 million. Molinari was in his 80s and it was clear that – while the site itself was exceptional – the property was run down and needed work. As we reported a few years ago, he promptly embarked on a radical project to restore the property and unexpectedly decided to declassify the 2014 and 2015 vintages to Rosso di Montalcino, only releasing the first Fioretti-era Brunello in 2021, with the 2016 vintage – the first to be made entirely by the new team.  Now, almost a decade later, he’s starting to be able to realise his vision for the estate – as we discovered on a visit earlier this year, with problems that “aren’t easy to solve”. The challenge, he explains, has been evolving from an “artisan” to an “atelier”. Under Molinari, the property developed a legendary reputation, but the operation was rudimentary – a traditional, family business, doing things the way they had always been done. Fioretti wants to bring the estate into the modern era, elevating the terroir with technical precision to craft wines that continue the Cerbaiona legacy. It is, he says, “a transition I wasn’t expecting to make”, but one that he feels is essential to safeguard Cerbaiona’s future. The distinction between artisan and atelier is a nuanced one – but one that comes down to an emphasis on craft rather than art, with a commitment to consistency, for which precision and hygiene in the winery are key, as well as a high level of technical knowledge. He confesses that he had envisaged having a more hands-off approach in the winery, having imported a lot of natural wines in his previous career, but has rapidly realised that top-level winemaking is full of “necessary compromises” (diving into issues like the fault quercetin). As a craft, winemaking can’t just be subject to the “whims of the producer”, as he suggests is the artisanal way. “I prefer to work more meticulously,” he explains. The American talks at pace, flitting from TS Eliot and the concept of “the pure critic” to Albertolli and neoclassicism, in amongst technical detail about fining and filtering. The estate is closed to visitors, deliberately to avoid distraction from what Fioretti wants to be spending his time on – making wine. As he whizzes us round the winery, our heads spinning as we try to absorb every detail, he talks us through exactly how he’s bringing new exactitude to the operation. The vineyards have all been replanted and a steep-sloped olive grove replaced with vines, all with selected rootstocks and clones sourced from France’s Guillaume nursery, to give them the best possible raw material. Once seen as too labour-intensive to farm, he’s convinced the ex-olive grove might just be the best site on the property. The rustic old stables and granary that acted as the cellar and winery have been carefully renovated, with water and drainage installed throughout, and the equipment all updated. Importantly, Fioretti has added a full in-house laboratory – something that is exceedingly rare for a property of this size, let alone Italy where the high-tech approach is far from the norm. The fruit is now all chilled after harvest, de-stemmed and cold-soaked, using inert gas to protect the must. While he used upright wooden tanks for fermentation for his first five vintages, Fioretti switched to stainless steel to allow for better hygiene and temperature control (preferring a maximum 26̊C), as well as allowing him to programme them for automated punch-downs and pump-overs. He’s started co-inoculating for primary and malolactic fermentation, meaning the wines go into barrel very clean – and can be sulphured right away. These are tweaks, minor modernisations, but one of the most significant changes Foretti is making is the time the wine spends in wood. While Molinari favoured four-plus years in 500-litre tonneaux, Fioretti has gradually started bottling the wine earlier and uses a combination of 350-litre barrels and 15-hectolitre casks. “Even two years [the appellation minimum] in wood is too long,” he says – before quickly acknowledging that such a view is far from accepted, and he cannot legally reduce it any further. The various consorzios may not like it, but it’s a view that is increasingly common among younger producers in Italy, who are frustrated by minimum oak-ageing requirements and their contrast with the wines today’s consumers want to drink. As Fioretti says, however, “The notion of wood is very delicate.” And while he’d rather be able to age his wine in other vessels during their first two years of life, he acknowledges that élevage in oak has a beneficial impact on the chemistry of wine – aiding stability. With such a beloved wine, it might seem controversial to change anything – especially the way it’s made, but that hasn’t stopped Fioretti. Looking back at older vintages from the estate, even the legendary 100-point 2010, he is sometimes underwhelmed, feeling that there’s much greater potential. Part of his plan to reflect that potential is bottling earlier, allowing the fruit to shine through and give the wine better balance – something he feels is key for ageing potential. He’s also keen to make sure the wine is moderate in alcohol with maximum 14 or 14.2%, even in the warmest years. And most importantly, he says, good wine has to be delicious. Having tasted the 2019 and 2021 with Fioretti – the results so far really are. There’s a vibrancy and purity that makes them irresistible, while not sacrificing the structure that will allow these wines to go the distance. Alongside Cerbaiona, Fioretti has also created the M.L. Fioretti label, one he describes as “part garagiste, part petit château”. He was keen to explore indigenous grapes, which “are part of the family – but not all thoroughbreds”, as well as plots of Bordeaux varietals (grapes with undeniable pedigree) – provided they’re planted in the right place. The Casaglia Colorino is bright and spicy, while the San Vito (sadly the last vintage of which is 2021) is a beautifully lush and vibrant Merlot. These are fascinating wines that allow Fioretti to experiment more – outside the constrictions of the Brunello di Montalcino appellation. Controversially, Fioretti has declared Cerbaiona a “No Scores Zone”, echoing the sentiment of Teobaldo Cappellano that numerical ratings are divisive, at best – and don’t do justice to the craft of winemaking. In his notes on the 2018 vintage, Fioretti wrote: “This is another vintage for the connoisseur, that true lover of wine and the vine. So be it if the ‘collector’ misses out.” Feathers might be ruffled by such remarks, but the motivation here is clear: an earnest passion for wine. It’s something that shines through in our conversation – and in the wines he’s making. You won’t find ratings online for new vintages of Cerbaiona, but one thing’s for sure: you’ll want them in your cellar. Explore all current Cerbaiona and M.L. Fioretti listings, or read more about Italy

You won’t have seen any reviews for Cerbaiona since Matthew Fioretti took over the cult Montalcino address – and that’s for good reason. We caught up with the notorious American taking charge, and leading change, at the estate

It’s all change at the cult Brunello di Montalcino winery Cerbaiona since Matthew Fioretti took over in 2015. We sat down with him to find out more.

Change at Cerbaiona – Matthew Fioretti

Change at Cerbaiona: Matthew Fioretti

Some wine regions dance to the beat of their own drum. From the sweeter reds of Ethiopia’s Rift Valley to the soft-styled fizz of Altos de Pinto Bandeira, Arnica Rowan explores far-flung regions with distinctive approaches to growing vines and making wine – almost exclusively for their own people

Arnica Rowan explores wines that don’t make it to the international market – with distinctive styles from Ethiopia, Brazil, Thailand and beyond

Discover the wines of Ethiopia, Brazil and beyond

Not for export

Broad in build and sporting a leather necklace, Mike Ratcliffe looks like a man who would be good at wrangling cattle. But that burly side is countered by an accent softened by time working and studying abroad (not to mention being married to a Brit), and a certain polish – even after an overnight flight from the Cape – that speaks of the business sphere. It’s clear that he’s no-nonsense – a man with ambition, and not one, I suspect, you’d want to get on the wrong side of. But it’s also clear that his savvy brand-building has been key to the success of Vilafonté.  He is a man with a plan – a 100-year plan, in fact. As of December last year, when co-founders Dr Zelma Long and Dr Phil Freese retired, Ratcliffe is the lone man at the helm of Vilafonté – a wine producer that has been attracting increasing amounts of attention. In a recent report for the Wine Advocate, Anthony Mueller wrote, “Vilafonté continues inching toward triple digits with a spectacular array of new releases” – awarding its 2021 Series C 99 points (making it the joint-highest-scoring South African wine to date, sitting alongside Sadie’s 2021 Palladius and an 1800 Muscat of Alexandria from Jaubert). But Ratcliffe’s not resting on his laurels: as he tells me, “If you’re going to do anything, go 100%.”  Ratcliffe’s family owned Warwick Estate – and as the world opened up to South African wine in the wake of apartheid – they realised they needed help developing their wines. Although Warwick was one of the nation’s stalwart names, “We were the big fish in the small pond,” says Ratcliffe – and to grow internationally, they needed outside input. They hired Phil Freese – then Vice President of Winegrowing at Robert Mondavi and responsible for planting the first Opus One vineyards – as viticultural consultant (for a “staggering” fee, Ratcliffe tells me). The investment paid off and after two years, they had made amazing progress – and Freese suggested they use Zelma Long (previously of Robert Mondavi, then Simi) to consult on the winemaking side.  At the same time Freese was working on his PhD, which involved research on the world’s oldest soils – many of which he discovered were in southern Africa. The oldest documented soil in Africa is vilafontes, thought to have originated 800 million years ago – and he, along with Long (whom he later married), started wondering about this soil’s potential for wine. The couple – along with the help of an investor Sydney Back – bought 40 hectares of land in 1996, at the foot of the Simonsberg mountain in Paarl, planting their first vines the following year. Vilafonté was born.  Ratcliffe had been working abroad as a skipper, before heading off to Roseworthy to get his MBA in wine in 1999, but had met Long and Freese through their work at Warwick, and was keeping an eye on their new venture. Soon after he returned back home, Sydney Back – a man Ratcliffe describes as “the Robert Mondavi of South Africa” – passed away, meaning Long and Freese were looking for a new partner. Impulsively, Ratcliffe volunteered – scrambling to get the money together in time for the deal to be finalised in 2001.   The trio made wines in 2000 and 2001 but only to get a feel for the site, planning to make 2002 their first release. Unfortunately, the vintage was tricky and Long told them firmly: “It’s good – but it’s not good enough.” It’s a decision that the bank didn’t necessarily appreciate (“That was a tough year,” says Ratcliffe) – but allowed them to launch with 2003, “arguably the best vintage of the decade” according to Ratcliffe (and a wine that he tells me is still “impeccable”). No one seems to be clear on how “vilafontes” became Vilafonté – whether it was a marketing decision to add a Gallic twist to the name, or just a mistake somewhere along the way – but it stuck.  They had originally planned to make a single Grand Vin, but the site had other ideas – producing two distinct styles, and so they created Series C (a Cabernet-driven blend) and Series M (a Merlot-driven blend). It may not make perfect business sense, having two flagship wines, but repeat experiments have (so far, at least) confirmed it was the right choice. While some plots clearly belong to C or M, the blends are different each year – and younger-vine fruit or anything that doesn’t fit is declassified to Seriously Old Dirt. This latter wine was launched with the 2012 vintage, using purchased fruit from around the Western Cape as well as declassified plots to provide an earlier-drinking entry-point to the Vilafonté brand.   The secret to the wines is the soil – incredibly poor, ancient soils, degraded and nutrient-deficient – meaning the vines really struggle. Even 27 years on, the vines are scrawny little things – producing tiny yields of concentrated fruit. It’s one reason that the site had – to their knowledge – never been planted, and local farmers were puzzled why anyone decided to put down roots here. Combine that with a “deeply pragmatic” approach (in Ratcliffe’s own words), and a long-term team dedicated to doing “the same thing over and over and over”, and you have the recipe for something special. In Ratcliffe’s mind, it’s key that they aren’t trying to create something new each vintage – but continue their pursuit of perfection with Series C and M. They work sustainably but sensibly, with cover crops, high-tech underground drip irrigation and a cellar that operates purely on solar power, but avoid certification or trading on any green credentials: for the Vilafonté team, it is all about the quality in the bottle.  For years, Ratcliffe juggled managing both Warwick and Vilafonté, but eventually sold his old family business to a California-based venture capital fund, allowing him to focus exclusively on Vilafonté. The property has just released its 2021s, the 18th vintage to emerge from the Paarl estate – and its top-scoring wines to date. Yet Ratcliffe is clear that this is just the latest step in his masterplan. The vines are yet to turn 30, and there are a few small parcels on the estate that could still be planted, while the team is constantly running trials – empowered to challenge everything they think they know. Just last December (2023), Long and Freese retired – after a four-year handover period, but will remain loosely involved. Ratcliffe isn’t looking back, though: as he says, “Our greatest wines are ahead of us.”  Vilafonté’s 2021 releases are available now  Read more Editorial  

The Wine Advocate is yet to grant any South African wine a perfect score – but some are getting close. Most recently, Vilafonté earned 99 points for its 2021 Series C. As it’s released, we sit down with owner Mike Ratcliffe to find out about this Paarl project and its rapid trajectory to stardom

Wine Advocate recently awarded Vilafonte’s 2021 Series C 99 points – we sat down with owner Mike Ratcliffe to find out more about the Paarl wine estate

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