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

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

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

Annie Favia and Andy Erickson’s Favia 

Growing up: Favia

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

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

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

Serge Valentin – the Joker in the pack

Serge Valentin: the Joker in the pack

Think of a cocktail. Is vermouth in it? If you’re thinking of a classic cocktail, there’s every chance it is. The Martini, Negroni, Manhattan – I could go on. And on. For whatever reason, vermouth has not always received the recognition it deserves for propping up so many exquisite mixed drinks. In fact, I’d hazard that a fair amount of cocktail lovers don’t know vermouth is in their glass at all, or, if they do, their knowledge of the liquid might be a little patchy. When it comes to vermouth, there are a few things you need to know. Vermouth is an aromatised wine which hails from Torino, Italy. It is generally accepted that vermouth – as we know it, not the kind prescribed by Hippocrates in 400BC for ailments – was invented in the 16th century. In 2019, a Geographical Indication was introduced to protect the style and quality of vermouth from its birthplace, Turin. Under these regulations, vermouth must be made with at least one Italian wine, wormwood must be the predominant flavour and the wormwood used must be grown in Piedmont. The final liquid must also be between 16% and 22% alcohol in order for it to be labelled “Vermouth di Torino”. The two most common styles of vermouth are sweet and dry. The former is red in colour and as such is often called Rosso. This is the style used in your Manhattan and Negroni. Dry vermouth is white (Bianco) in colour and will be used in your classic Martini. Four classic Vermouth-based cocktails The Negroni It might be hard to believe given the Negroni’s current notoriety, but this simple serve of equal parts vermouth, Campari and gin was incredibly slow to catch on. As is often true in cocktail lore, there are a couple of people credited with its invention. The most widely accepted is a Count named Camillo Negroni who asked a bartender at Caffè Casoni in Florence to make his Americano cocktail a touch stronger. They duly obliged and switched the soda water for gin. This is believed to have taken place in 1919. A smaller camp credits a man named General Pascal Oliver Comte de Negroni with the invention of the cocktail in Senegal between 1855 and 1865. Setting aside the inventor for the moment, the Negroni, unrefutably, became de rigueur in the early 20th century – requested across Europe and favoured for its bitterness and alcoholic strength. Orson Welles was a very high-profile fan, famously quoted in 1947 for saying: “The bitters are excellent for your liver, the gin is bad for you. They balance each other.” In the years that followed, the Negroni’s popularity waned when appetites became more saccharine in nature. In the early 2000s, things shifted again as the Negroni began to appear on cocktail menus at some of the best bars in the world. It wasn’t long before the recipe featured in cocktail books and drinks sections of influential titles, such as The New York Times. Fast forward to today and the Negroni is regularly named the most popular cocktail by patrons and bartenders alike. There are countless riffs on the original recipe and an entire week is dedicated to celebrating it. How to make a Negroni 30ml sweet vermouth 30ml Campari 30ml gin Ice Slice of orange (garnish) Pour all ingredients into a glass with ice and stir well. Add garnish. The Manhattan The Manhattan has assumed many guises over the years, making its exact origin a hotly contested subject. Some believe Sir Winston Churchill’s mother was served the first Manhattan cocktail at the eponymous club in New York in the early 1880s. Others question the validity of this claim as she was likely in the UK, pregnant with the future Prime Minister, around this time. Some believe a New York bartender by the name of Black invented the recipe at the Hoffman House. The earliest known record of the Manhattan, in which this name and the recognised recipe, appear is in The Sunday Morning Herald in September 1882. Unhelpfully, some referred to a very similar recipe as a Jockey Club or Turf Club Cocktail. The classic recipe consists of Rye or Bourbon, sweet vermouth and bitters. During Prohibition, it was not uncommon for people to use a different whiskey as the base ingredient. If you substitute American whiskey for Scotch whisky, you have a Rob Roy cocktail. How to make a Manhattan 50ml Bourbon 25ml vermouth 3 dashes of orange bitters Cocktail cherry (garnish) Add all ingredients into a glass filled with ice and stir. Strain into coupe or Martini glass and garnish. The Americano The Americano recipe was invented at Gaspare Campari's bar in Milan in the 1860s. The cocktail of equal parts Campari, vermouth and soda water, was originally named “Milano-Torino” after the principle ingredients’ home towns of Milan and Torino respectively. The simple serve was renamed in honour of its growing fanbase: American tourists. The Negroni recipe was based on the Americano and contains two of the three main ingredients – with the soda water switched for gin. While many associate James Bond with the Vesper cocktail or a Martini – shaken, not stirred – the first cocktail associated with 007 in Ian Fleming’s work was actually an Americano in Casino Royale. It is later written, in A View To Kill, “Bond always had the same thing – an Americano”. How to make an Americano 30ml sweet vermouth 30ml Campari Soda water Slice of orange (garnish) Fill glass with ice, add Campari and sweet vermouth. Top with soda water and stir gently. Garnish. The Adonis A slightly less well-known vermouth-based cocktail, the Adonis was invented in honour of its Broadway musical namesake. The musical, based on William Gill’s novel, first opened in Chicago in 1884 and went on to become the longest-running show of its era. As the name suggests, the story follows a beautiful male statue who comes to life and ultimately opts to return to stone. The first reference to the Adonis cocktail was written in 1887. How to make an Adonis 60ml Oloroso Sherry 30ml sweet vermouth 2 dashes of orange bitters Stir all ingredients with ice. Strain into chilled glass. Browse all spirits or read more Editorial 

No drinks trolley is complete without a bottle of vermouth. It’s required in countless classic cocktails and is a remarkable drink in its own right. Holly Motion charts vermouth’s rise to prominence and explores the history of four of the most famous vermouth-based cocktails

Alll about vermouth’s rise to prominence and explores the history of 4 of the most famous vermouth-based cocktails - The Negroni, The Manhattan, The Americano

How four vermouth-based cocktails became classics

The history of vermouth in cocktails: shaken not stirred

In a report published in 2014 by the UN’s Food and Agriculture Organisation, under current rates of degradation, all the world’s topsoil could disappear within 60 years. With 95% of all food produced relying on these living soils, this pronouncement was a stark and terrifying warning of what lies ahead. Industrial farming and deforestation are the leading causes behind the degradation of soil. Grape growing and large parts of the wine industry remain very much part of that problem. France’s vineyards, as an example, are the country’s biggest consumers of chemical fungicides, insecticides and herbicides. These products can devastate the life in the soil and completely disrupt the biodiversity of a region. Although viticulture represents just 3% of France’s agricultural land, the sector spreads 20% of the country’s fungicides. Many vignerons have tried to reduce chemical inputs, either using them as a last resort or not at all. Some believe non-chemical additions of copper and sulphur typically used to treat fungal diseases (the biggest threat to yields) are more damaging to the environment than systemic chemical interventions. It is a complex picture. But there are vignerons committed to non-chemical approaches – growers who believe they can offer alternative methods that are both sustainable for the future and remain commercially viable. While there are various approaches, they all share the belief that protecting the health of the soil is fundamental to their vineyard’s long-term future, as well producing a farming system that is not only sustainable but regenerative, in that it sequesters more carbon dioxide in the soil than it takes out. Exactly how this is practised remains a contentious debate. Many of these growers are certified organic, many are not – certification itself is another controversial issue. Biodynamic farming is organic farming with a more holistic approach, trying to recreate a natural balancing ecosystem that allows nature to restore and rejuvenate itself, in rhythm with the lunar cycle. Others have gone even further and have allowed their vineyards to grow wild, believing that an undisturbed vineyard is the most sustainable and ecologically healthy. Organic and biodynamic farming practices are essentially a return to conventional farming methods carried out prior to the introduction of chemical farming 70 years ago. The more non-interventionist approach goes one step further, attempting to recreate an environment that pre-dates all commercial farming. It is an approach in which crops and other plant life coexist together, allowing the environment to dictate what grows where. Under the teachings of Masanobu Fukuoka, it was coined “natural farming”. Masanobu Fukuoka was a Japanese microbiologist and agricultural scientist who studied plant pathology. After nearly dying during a bout of pneumonia, he experienced what he described as a profound spiritual experience – leading him to begin to doubt modern agricultural science. He gave up his scientific post and returned to his family’s farm on the southern Japanese island of Shikoku. It was here that he developed his own non-intervention farming techniques, which involved no tilling or ploughing, and no fertilisation of the land. This was to protect the vital microorganic life in the soil, that he believed was essential to creating an ecologically balanced environment. The publication of his seminal book, The One-Straw Revolution, in 1975, went on to influence the permaculture movement (no till, no ploughing) in the west, and even more radical concepts. Alsace-based viticulturist Bruno Schloegel (of Domaine Lissner) is one such radical. He has a nine-hectare estate that, over the last 20 years, he has adapted to what he calls the “savage” approach to viticulture. For him, “savage” is a more accurate translation of Fukuoka’s methods. “I asked my Japanese friends to translate Fukuoka’s Japanese term,” says Schloegel, “and it translates as something between being free and alive. But not just the vines, the whole system of animals, insects, fungus. The key is not to disturb, as this will weaken the system.” For Schloegel it is a better translation than “natural” which today, he believes, no longer means anything. Despite adopting Fukuoka’s ideas, Schloegel was in fact practising the same approach before he was even aware of the Japanese farmer’s book. “I never knew about Fukuoka until a few years ago. I was given his book and it was amazing. Almost every page, we were totally linked.” Both former scientists, Schloegel too became frustrated by the scientific data available. “It is more complex than the techniques we have been taught,” he says. “Even when I was a student, I thought this. I am a scientist as he was. I studied in the ’70s. He studied in the ’60s. But our conclusions are the same. The answer is to not disturb.” Prior to Fukuoka, Schloegel was taken by the work of the eminent English scientist Dennis Noble, a pioneer of systems biology whose publication The Music of Life became a huge influence. Noble uses the analogy of life as many orchestras playing different scales, very small and very big. “Molecules, atoms, landscape, living beings as well as the vine – all are playing together and that is what we call life. We can listen to each scale of this living system, and you will find almost the same music, because it is totally coherent. Each scale is in harmony. It was very inspiring to me,” Schloegel explains. Like Fukuoka, Schloegel has a strong respect for spirituality as well as science and talks about how the human brain deciphers experiences differently. He uses music as an example, describing how listening to music creates an emotional reaction which the scientific part of your brain can’t explain. “Knowing you only have a small knowledge of this complexity, this complexity of nature, makes you humble. But spiritually you get pleasure from living with this complexity and not trying to control it. It’s just like a wave you are surfing on. This is the pleasure side.” As well as adopting a no-plough, no-till approach, unlike biodynamic farming, Schloegel does not sow seeds for cover crops, nor use any organic fertiliser, preparations or other inputs. He believes his vines’ roots not only root deeper, but are more resistant to disease and suffer less from stress. He also saves on the costs of such additions. So what does he do? He prunes the vines each year – very late in March/April just prior to the new buds forming – and he mows between the rows just prior to harvest. He does also use copper and sulphur, when necessary, to tackle disease but believes he can phase this out. Beyond that, the vineyard is left to its own devices. It is hard to keep up with Schloegel sometimes – his concepts are unconventional, but this holistic approach is highly considered. It is completely at odds with the commercial farming approaches and understandably has caused controversy. But he, along with a growing number of viticulturists around the world, is totally committed to the concept that permaculture is essential to the future long-term health of arable land. He believes he can not only produce an economically viable crop (up to 40hl/ha), but he can produce wines with greater complexity and terroir expression. He believes it takes between seven to 12 years of not disturbing the vineyards for them to find their balance. “At this point you are on the crest of the wave – it is very calm,” he says. But this is a long process and requires a lot of faith to commit to. Even Schloegel admits it gets worse before it gets better, as the vineyard adapts. “When you stop the herbicides, the mowing and the ploughing, you get the bad weeds. But these weeds prepare the soil for the next generation of plants,” he says. Poppies, lilies, thistles, wild orchids then start to appear and then fruit and vegetables and a huge variety of plant life and wild flowers begin to grow. His vineyards today have a huge variety of plant and wildlife species coexisting, with cherry, apricot, fig, almond trees and wild vegetables, flowers, fruits, and aromatic herbs all growing between the vines. What then happens seems incredible. Schloegel explains, once in equilibrium you see distinct plants continue to grow in the same place each year, depending on the terroir of that part of the vineyard. There is one part of his vineyard where 30 metres of wild strawberries appear every year, growing alongside the vines. In other parts there are leeks, other parts a particular herb. Schloegel outlines that even within a single vineyard, very little is exactly the same. The composition, altitude, slope, geological make-up are all different and, when left to adapt, one vineyard grows multitudes of plant species at different levels of concentration in different parts of the vineyard, depending on what adapts best to that particular spot. This is what Schloegel believes is real terroir in action: “A terroir is a full, complex living system – and a wine of this terroir is a response. In this totally free, rich, complex place. I know it is possible for natural systems to rebuild from themselves. But it cannot be fostered.” Fukuoka’s farm on the island of Shikoku in southern Japan was a rice and citrus fruit farm and, while he managed to produce commercial yields of both rice and fruits, the transference of his techniques to the vineyard is not quite as straightforward. The concepts are radical and while a few like Schloegel are convinced it’s possible – with his own yields varying from 10-40hl/ha, others remain sceptical. Schloegel’s Alsatian neighbour Olivier Humbrecht MW (of Domaine Zind-Humbrecht) does not believe a non-interventionist approach is a good idea – nor that it is necessary for making wine a sustainable crop for the future. While Humbrecht accepts there may be many good ideas in terms of regenerative methods that heighten biodiversity and increase the health of the soils, he is sceptical of its long-term future. Humbrecht’s fundamental criticism is that Schloegel’s approach is not as undisturbed as he claims.“A vine is a cultivated plant,” says Humbrecht. “You are cultivating something, disrupting something natural and making it not natural. It is not natural to plant vines one metre apart on a slope, in poor rocky soil, in a place where it doesn’t rain much. It’s not natural to force it to produce grapes every year. So you have to compensate this with something.” For him, permanent cover leads to soil compaction – with the shallow roots of these plants and the topsoil damaged when working in the vineyard – which has graver long-term effects than tilling or ploughing. These stresses on the vine, Humbrecht explains, are exactly why we have flavour in our wines. Each of these stresses, whether it be the nutrient stress from poor soils, the water stress from growing on a slope or well-drained soils, or nutrient stress from high density planting – these are all deliberate decisions made by vignerons who, over the last 2,000 years, have discovered the best places to cultivate and stress the plant in order to produce delicious fruit. This fruit is the vine’s attempt to escape, through tempting wildlife to eat it and disperse their seeds somewhere less inhospitable. “France would be a forest if untouched and I’m not sure you would not find one wild vine where we have the top vineyards today,” he says. Humbrecht remembers discovering the vines on his own Grand Cru vineyard Rangen de Thann. These vines had been abandoned since World War One. When he arrived 60 years later, most of them had disappeared. The vines that did survive and adapted were producing tiny, small clusters of grapes. Humbrecht believes non-intervention farming would have similar results. “If you don’t prune a vine for 10 years you will end of with tiny clusters, producing maybe 2-4hl/ha – a typical commercial yield in the region is closer to 80hl/ha. Humbrecht’s biggest concern centres around this approach’s commercial viability. And that is important if these methods are to be adopted more globally. If these vineyards’ crops are too small, the vineyard will fail and more likely be bought up by someone else who could return the vineyard to conventional, chemical farming. While there may be disagreements between Humbrecht’s biodynamic approach and Schloegel’s “savage” approach, the permaculture concept has led others to adapt their practices. Michel Chapoutier has been farming biodynamically for the last 30 years but has more recently adopted permaculture. “How I am managing my soil today is completely the opposite to how I managed them biodynamically 20 years ago,” he tells me. Chapoutier now believes the disturbance of the soil is more damaging than the removal of weeds and therefore has stopped ploughing his vineyards. For Humbrecht, light ploughing and resowing cover crops is a better solution. “There is no technique that is 100% good,” he explains. “You have to weigh up the options. What is better? Let the vine die from the competition of the plants growing in May, or disrupting the microorganisms in the soil by ploughing four inches into the soil (between May and June) – you have to choose. It is always a question of balance.” Another producer who has gone beyond organics and placed the development of biodiversity and regenerative practices at the heart of their operation is Gaja. The early success of Piedmont as a fine wine region in Italy saw areas such as Barbaresco and Barolo become dominated by vineyards. Forests were felled and biodiversity dropped. Gaja has since incorporated more trees, adopted permaculture methods in the vineyard and today produce their own organic fertiliser in their historic vineyards. The team has also recently purchased new land in Alta-Langhe where they are not just planting vines, but trees too, incorporating the trees and the vines together. “There is a growing sensibility towards the importance of biodiversity,” says Gaia Gaja, “therefore we are fine with sacrificing space suited for vineyards in favour of trees, we believe in the long run this decision will benefit the health of the vineyards.” Industrial farming is in ecological and financial crisis. More sustainable approaches have to be adopted if we are to survive the next generation, but, so far, those choices come at a cost. For many farmers struggling to make a living, the conventional, chemical farming approach has become the only way to financially survive, taking each year as it comes. These growers can ill afford to think much beyond that, despite the system’s long-term unsustainability. Many feel trapped and find more sustainable approaches economically unviable without better directed government subsidies that promote regenerative farming practices. Wine is hardly an essential food product, but it is the economic engine for entire communities that rely on it for subsistence. In certain wine regions where there is a reliance on water reserves and chemical inputs, it will have to adapt or die. Minimal intervention viticulture is no doubt a radical option, but truly regenerative viticultural approaches will be necessary in a future where food shortages become more widespread. Chapoutier and Zind-Humbrecht, even Schloegel, albeit blessed with great terroir, are paving the way, proving it is possible to produce wine at good volume, at all price points, with a regenerative approach. It is these pioneers that we must learn from, if we are to have a wine industry at all in 50 years‘ time. Browse the wines of Domaine Zind-Humbrecht or Michel Chapoutier or read more Editorial

Agriculture is in crisis. Wine producers are at the forefront of the challenges facing farmers around the world – but what can they do? We talk to Olivier Humbrecht MW, Bruno Schloegel, Michel Chapoutier and Gaia Gaja about rewilding, regenerative farming and the vine’s long-term viability

Olivier Humbrecht, Michel Chapoutier and more on rewilding, regenerative farming and the vine’s long-term viability in an agricultural crisis.

How viticulture can help the climate crisis

A return to the wild: beyond organics

“In more recent times The Glenturret has not been a brand name that is well known in whisky.” While few might refute this, they are not typically the first words you expect to hear from the mouth of the distillery’s Managing Director. “When the new owners took over, it was a unique opportunity to take this old, heritage brand that no one has ever heard of and reposition it without any of the baggage you normally get with repositioning older brands,” John Laurie adds. In 2019, Silvo Denz – owner of Chx Faugères in Saint-Emilion and Lafaurie-Peyraguey in Sauternes – bought a 50% stake in the Highland distillery via his Lalique Group for £15.5m. (Swiss entrepreneur Hansjörg Wyss bought the other 50% for an undisclosed sum.) This marked Denz’s first move into the whisky world and a huge moment for The Glenturret. The deal with The Edrington Group, who own The Macallan and Highland Park, included the distillery, the single malt brand and more than one million litres of maturing stock. In the intervening years, the brand once known as a component in blends and home of The Famous Grouse Experience has been on an oft-used-and-cliched “journey”. The team has grown, acquiring some big names along the way, the core range has been stripped back to basics, and all the fundamentals have been scrutinised. For the first nine months after former The Macallan Whisky Maker Bob Dalgarno joined The Glenturret, he was reportedly nowhere to be seen. After his induction, Dalgarno – chalk in hand and overalls-clad – barricaded himself in the warehouse. The industry legend spent month upon month scrawling on the casks, rolling barrels around and familiarising himself with his new pet project. For the self-professed “farm stock”, the prospect of joining a manually operated distillery after working at The Macallan for 30 years was a real thrill. Dalgarno could experiment and affect change. New contracts with local farmers to run barley trials have been set up and the cask-selection process has been extensively reviewed. He and Distillery Manager Ian Renwick are a formidable team. The duo spent months drilling into the stocks and assessing what worked well and didn’t. After this, two things were taken as read: the quality of the new-make was of utmost importance, and The Glenturret would stay a small, hand-operated distillery. “Other brands will use casks as their dominant flavour profile,” Laurie explains. “We use our new-make spirit. It’s the backbone of The Glenturret. You should be able to nose our new-make spirit and nose it at 30 years old and never lose that character.” The Glenturret new-make spirit is light and quite soft because of the long fermentation and slow distillation methods. In order to preserve this character and avoid railroading it, cask selection is key. This, according to Laurie, has been instrumental in 80% of The Glenturret’s maiden whiskies selling out in the first seven months. “We were really keen not to be the brand that just puts the same liquid in a shiny new bottle and charges a different price point for it,” the Managing Director says. That said, innovation – or, as Laurie prefers it called, experimentation – is high on the agenda at the Highland distillery. “It’s less scientific clean rooms and more overalls and a lot of incredibly long hours and hard work,” Laurie adds. Ostensibly, the culmination of the first stage of this experimentation is the 2020 series of releases, which includes the familiar TripleWood and a scattering of age statements. But look a little harder and the range is an adept exploration of refinement, questioning age, alcohol strength, refill casks and peat. The team has also not shied away from the issue of transparency – something that the whisky world has not always embraced. “We will tell people exactly what’s in our whisky; we won’t hide anything,” Laurie says. “If you want to know how old our non-age statement is then we will tell you. It’s all about the quality of the liquid for us.” In production terms, The Glenturret is considered small batch. As Brand Ambassador Jamie Morrison quaintly puts it, “At roughly 200,000 litres of alcohol per year, that’s a piece of plankton floating in the Pacific in relation to much bigger, more automated distilleries.” For Laurie, balancing genuine scarcity with a territory-by-territory approach will be instrumental to their success. “You want to explain to the consumer that when it sells out, it sells out. There is not going to be another one coming out the back of it. But also managing it to the point where it is not so hard to get that the consumer loses interest,” Laurie says. “We wanted to make sure everywhere we opened up we looked after as we grow. For The Glenturret to really work, it has to be sold in a location where somebody can take the time to tell the customer the story and understand what makes us different. I would rather they didn’t make the sale than make the wrong sale. “This distillery can’t put out any more than 500,000 litres of alcohol unless we started putting on extensions and changing the process completely,” Laurie says. “And there is absolutely no willingness from the ownership all the way down through the team here to do that. So, The Glenturret will reach that 500,000 litres of alcohol production level and stay there.” Morrison picks up the point: “Everything we do is truly small batch and that comes with its own set of challenges in terms of production, but it also makes us quite nimble which means we can afford to do small experimental runs of different barley. We can adjust fermentation times and adjust the run times of the stills quite easily. And that affords us opportunity to effectively have a play round and see what happens.” The words “small batch” and “limited” are often bandied about in the drinks world. In fact, The Glenturret is well-positioned on many fronts when it comes to buzzword bingo, but there is a sincerity in the mission here and a stellar line up of talent which will ultimately let the liquid do the talking. Browse all current Glenturret listings or all Scotch whisky or read more Editorial

When the oldest working distillery in Scotland found a new owner in 2019, many stood back and speculated on how its fortunes might change. Holly Motion speaks to the team about how a new approach has been a barnstorming success


Exploring how Scotland's oldest working distillery, The Glenturret, has gone back to basics and transformed the Highland producer's reputation

Back to basics at The Glenturret

The Glenturret: back to basics

The smallest event can set us on our path. A chance encounter, a favourite book narrated to us as a child, or a popular culture icon that we’re desperate to imitate. For Meghan Ireland, it was a double-page spread in a magazine. She might not remember who it was about, but the subject lit a fire in her that burns just as brightly many years later. “I was like wow, that’s what I want to do,” she says – eyes as wide as saucers – in the back room of the WhistlePig farm-cum-distillery in Vermont. The Whisky Advocate feature on a female Master Distiller showed the second-year Chemical Engineering student and “total chemistry nerd” a career she hadn’t previously considered open to her. “I got super determined after that,” she says. After cutting her teeth in a craft cider role, Ireland joined WhistlePig, or “the playground for distillation” as she describes it, which was under the inimitable stewardship of distilling icon Dave Pickerell. “He was just an amazing guy,” Ireland says. “Big personality and incredibly smart. He was always pushing innovation and experimentation and that’s something that has really stuck with this company.” Pickerell’s untimely passing in 2018 sent shockwaves across the industry, and many still talk about the role he played in the craft spirits revolution and subsequent rye whiskey revival. Many twittered about the fate of WhistlePig without the great man and his boundless creativity. This speculation only intensified after his successor’s short spell at the helm of the company. Today, Emily Harrison and Meghan Ireland head up distilling and blending at WhistlePig and, if their enthusiasm and first whiskeys are anything to go by, then those naysayers were very wide of the mark. “Dave gave us the ability to kind of run wild and create different experimentation options,” Ireland says. This creative energy is palpable in Ireland’s words and evident in everything the team has produced to date. “To this day my CEO asks me on a weekly basis, ‘What’s your new idea? What are we trying this week? What’s the new concept?’ He is always pushing, and he is always asking.” For some, this relentless pursuit might be draining, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Ireland. “To actually be able to explore and experiment with different options has been awesome.” Since its inception in 2015, WhistlePig has gone from a slightly obscure project to a formidable force on not only the American whiskey, but global whisk(e)y, stage. To get the brand off its feet, Pickerell and founder Raj Bhakta were very transparent about the fact they sourced whiskey from elsewhere in Canada. Today, the distillery is making strides in becoming a truly farm-to-bottle rye whiskey. “As much as we can, we want to produce a product that is ours fully,” Ireland says. “We are excited about releasing more and more of our own stuff to show off to the world what we can do here in Vermont.” The 500-acre former dairy farm is in a unique position – conceptionally and geographically. While the land may be fertile and the agricultural produce is verdant, the soil and water are both incredibly hard. As a consequence, the team has continually experimented, adapted and learned the best ways to use its triple terroir – grain, water and wood – to its advantage. “It makes who we are,” Ireland says. “You’re starting with very simple ingredients – rye and water. So, they are going to make up a big part of your flavour profile. I think terroir is huge in any distillation process.” Another huge part of the innovation at WhistlePig and the thing that really excites Ireland is the single finish programme. The Whiskey Blender has carte blanche to pick barrels and make one-off products. Part of her role, and one you sense she relishes, is finding the barrels. Ireland scours barrel libraries and leans on her contacts for anything new and exciting that appears on the market. There’s little she won’t try at least once. “I’m willing to put whiskey into anything,” Ireland says with those wide eyes. “I’m always looking for something different and unique. It’s fun to see when it’s going to hit that sweet spot between under-finished and over-finished.” She has been experimenting with Triple Sec and apricot brandy barrels, and a “couple of different wine finishes” are all maturing when we speak. The way the stills are designed (by Pickerell) allow for flexibility and are perfect for experimentation on both the front and back end. As with any experimentation, there have been some less successful outcomes. “I did a coffee barrel that was awful,” Ireland says, stifling a laugh. “It was bad. I was thinking like Irish Coffees and I thought it could work really well. People drink whiskey and coffee together anyways but that did not turn out good.” She hasn’t abandoned that idea just yet though. “I do think there are some adjustments that I could make and potentially still get a good product on that line of thought, but our first try was not there.” In terms of unicorns, Ireland says there are a couple of different Californian barrels she’d like to try and she’s trying to get her hands on a rosé barrel. “Not a lot of rosés are barrel-finished,” she says. “But I think that would be super interesting and a lot of fruity flavours would come into the whiskey potentially.” For the time being, the Whiskey Blender is experimenting with the many barrels she watches over. “I’m going out pretty regularly and pulling samples and trying to hit that point where I think we get the best flavour out of the different barrels. I’m getting to continue to push the boundaries of what we can put whiskey into.” One suspects it won’t be long before Ireland’s story inspires a whole new generation of chemistry nerds. Browse all available WhistlePig whiskeys or read more Editorial 

Since it stormed onto the whiskey scene in 2015, WhistlePig has rarely been out of the headlines. Success, tragedy and villainy have all befallen the zero-generation distillery in its short history. Holly Motion talks to the bright new light at the Vermont-based innovator

WhistlePig's bright new light on the next chapter in the Vermont-based rye whiskey innovator's history after a period of flux and front-page stories.

The story behind WhistlePig Rye Whiskey

WhistlePig: behind the headlines

When Jean-Marc Roulot wandered through the family estate’s cellars one, seemingly ordinary day, he happened upon something unexpected. The vigneron had walked the hallowed paths innumerable times during his legendary father Guy’s life and during the 15 years since his sudden passing in 1982. But there, in a long-forgotten corner of the cellars, lay 12 dusty bottles of apricot liqueur. Jean-Marc knew all about his father’s production of pear and apple brandy, and his family tradition of producing marc de Bourgogne and fine de Bourgogne. The still, which he used and remains in operation today, dates back to 1866 and used to be on wheels so the family could move from village to village. So well-known was this distillation heritage, in fact, that Jean-Marc’s mother used to joke that the still paid for their vineyards. What came as a surprise to the actor-cum-winemaker was the existence of L’Abricot. “I had never seen him make this liqueur,” the 65-year-old says. “It was absolutely delicious and I wanted to try to find this recipe.” This discovery in 2008 set Jean-Marc on a mission to reproduce the liqueur from instinct, as no recipe existed, and increase the estate’s staple of brandies, eaux de vie and liqueurs. In some instances, the winemaker was able to follow recipes and meet with fruit producers to reinstate his father’s relationships. For others, he had to forge his own path. “I wanted to reconnect with that [tradition],” he adds. Jean-Marc says he’s always had a passion for distillation, having learned the skill from his father, and feels it has influenced his winemaking. When distilling, Jean-Marc focuses on two things: purity and authenticity. When asked, he says it is of paramount importance that the end product tastes like the fruit. It seems obvious, perhaps, but this is not always the case with overly saccharine fruit-based liqueurs. In order to achieve these two things, Jean-Marc has reduced the sugar levels over time – from 180g/l sugar 10 years ago to 160g/l in the latest iterations. “Sugar is of course a flattering element in a liqueur, but it can also mask the fruit,” he says. “By lowering the sugar levels, I feel like I'm putting the fruit forward.” From more classic pear and raspberry to the most recent addition, lemon liqueur, Jean-Marc says the fruit choices have largely been emotive. “I chose to make a pear alcohol since my father already made this 40 years ago with fruits from the Hautes Côtes de Beaune,” he says. “He was doing the same thing in a much smaller amount with the raspberry than I am doing. For these two fruits in brandies, it is therefore a family tradition.” The pears are sourced from the same site in the Hautes Côtes de Beaune that his father used, while the apricots (previously from the orchards of Chave) come courtesy of Laurent Combier (of Domaine Combier) in the Rhône. While he used to be able to source them locally, raspberries are now hard to find – and these, along with his lemons, come from further afield (Bulgaria and Sicily, respectively). After finding the bottles of apricot liqueur and working with the fruit in that capacity, the idea occurred to Jean-Marc to ferment them to make brandy as well. He’s also turned his hand to lemon liqueur and doesn’t rule out further fruit experimentation, perhaps with grapefruit. When asked about these fruits in relation to terroir, Jean-Marc says he doesn’t think they can reflect their terroir “as well” or “as faithfully” as grapes. “Perhaps this is due to the size of the plant, the density of planting, the attention we pay to the work of the vineyard and all the care we take around the grape when it comes back to the winery,” he adds. “There is generally a ‘signature’ effect in grapes that I do not find in a fruit like pear for example.”  He does, however, think the distillation process has taught him a considerable amount. “As we are mainly winegrowers, we seem to think that our knowledge on this subject has influenced the work on the still, but I sincerely believe that the precision that distillation requires has influenced us in the other direction, towards our work as a winegrower.” One senses Jean-Marc’s discovery of those 12 unassuming bottles all those years ago had a much greater impact on him than merely influencing his production of superlative wines, and now, his fruit brandies, eaux de vie and liqueurs. Find out more about Domaine Roulot or read more Editorial

Meursault-based Domaine Roulot is one of the finest estates in the Côte de Beaune. But it’s not just grapes that cross the threshold at this domaine. Owner and winemaker Jean-Marc tells us about the family’s fruit-based spirits – and how they’ve influenced his winemaking

The famous Meursault vigneron Domaine Roulot on his family’s other project - the family’s fruit-based spirit

Domaine Roulot Meursault fruit-based spirits

A secret still: Domaine Roulot

For the aperitif For Domaine Long-Depaquit’s Matthieu Mangenot it is the energy and power of Champagne Brut Nature Les Marnes Blanches from Jeaunaux-Robin, that makes it his choice at Christmas. “I can't say for sure if it is the 100% Chardonnay selection or the very elegant vinification in Burgundy barrel that is this Champagne’s (hidden) tribute to our region but there is absolutely no ‘make up‘ with this Champagne. With no dosage it is a true expression of Chardonnay and terroir. To me, it is the best sparkling to get you ready for Christmas dinner!”  Klaus-Peter Keller (Weingut Keller) and his family love Champagne Bérèche & Fils or Krug, “but we will definitely enjoy some sparkling wines from Germany too!” he adds. Gianlorenzo di Neri from Montalcino’s Casanova di Neri is also choosing something local, with a 2002 Trentodoc – Giulio Ferrari Riserva del Fondatore, as well as a family favourite, Champagne Egly-Ouriet’s Blanc de Noirs. Saskia de Rothschild (Ch. Lafite-Rothschild) breaks the mould and prefers to drink ice-cold Sauternes as an aperitif rather than sparkling wine. She is still toying on whether to go young or old, deciding between a 2017, an 2007 or 1989 from Ch. Rieussec. The whites White Burgundy seems the overwhelmingly popular choice for the Christmas table. Francisco Baettig (Viña Errázuriz, Viñedo Chadwick and Baettig wines) opting for a bottle of Pulingy-Montrachet Les Combettes from Etienne Sauzet. “I love the elegance and balance of this appellation, and the purity of the wines from this producer.” Neri is saving his last bottle of 2005 Bourgogne Blanc by Coche-Dury alongside a 1991 Terlano Rarita, a Pinot Bianco blend released 25 years after it was made, proving the incredible ageing potential of top whites from Alto Adige. Mangenot has also opted for a rarity for the special day – a magnum of 2012 Nuits-Saint-Georges Blanc from Château-Gris (Albert Bichot). Chardonnay accounts for just 2% of the Nuits-Saint-Georges appellation. “The wine has a lot of richness and a beautiful tension due to the altitude of the vineyards,” says Mangenot: he is pairing it with cod fillet and citrus cream. Keller is bucking the trend and unsurprisingly opting for dry Rieslings, specifically from the 1990s, along with an eagerly awaited bottle of 1959 Mosel Piesporter Schubertslay. In 2008, Keller (although based in Rheinhessen) took over 0.7 hectares of this incredibly steep slope in the Mosel and he is using his Christmas dinner to do some research on this Mosel site with some serious bottle age. The reds Keller is not holding back on the reds: he’s got a 1966 Ch. la Mission Haut-Brion and a 1991 Clos de la Roche Grand Cru from Hubert Lignier lined up. Gianlorenzo di Neri is also opting for a Clos de la Roche, although his is a 2006 from Armand Rousseau. At the Neri household they love to compare Grand Cru Burgundy with their Brunellos, “It should be amazing to taste our 2006 Tenuta Nuova alongside.” Beyond Brunello and Burgundy, they will also be enjoying some top Nebbiolo, but it’s not an easy choice. “For Barolo we love so many producers, Elio Grasso’s Runcot – 2008 should be delicious now – or possibly Giacosa’s 2007 Barbaresco Asili Riserva.” For Mangenot, “The middle of winter is a good period to open a bottle of sunshine like Cornas Vin Noir 2012 from Domaine du Tunnel (my wife loves it!) – concentration, density, beautiful complexity, silky tannins… And a bunch of aromas that turns your dinner into a summer journey in a convertible car with your nose in the wind!” Beattig is also opting for Northern Rhône Syrah from his favourite producer Pierre Gonon, a Saint-Joseph. “I love the complexity of aromas, the spiciness. The structure of the wine, but at the same time the polished tannins. The mix of freshness, complexity and depth... love it.” At the Rothschild household it will of course be Lafite: “1988 or/and 1996: two absolute favourites of mine these days,” Saskia explains. “The 1988 is pure Lafite, extremely complex and evolving and the ’96, thanks to its perfect balance, is just so easy to drink that you’ll finish the bottle without even noticing it.” Jean-Guillaume Prats (CEO of Domaines Barons de Rothschild Lafite) is staying pretty loyal too, opting for Pomerol’s Ch. l’Evangile 2010. To finish Finally the sweets and fortifieds: there is never a better time to open aged Ports to go with the cheese and desserts of Christmas. For Lafite’s Jean-Guillaume Prats it will be Dow’s 1977 – in his words, “perfection”. Mangenot is also going for Vintage Port: Graham’s Quinta dos Malvedos 2001, “to go with a homemade chocolate mousse, and the rest of the bottle definitely to enjoy slowly by the fire with the family… Fruits, flowers, creamy character, it is a treat for the nose and the palate I wouldn't miss it at any price.” Keller decides on the sweet wines more spontaneously: “One of our favorite combinations is matching 40 and 50-year-old Ausleses with game dishes. It can taste so great. The anticipation is already great.” If fortifieds are not your thing, then take Jean-Sébastien Philippe of Lafite’s recommendation: he’ll be having a glass (or two) of Cognac de Lafite Très Vieille Réserve. He believes it is one of the most astonishing selections of old eaux-de-vies in Cognac. Browse our full range

There’s no better time than Christmas to open a treasured bottle or two. Ahead of the big day, we asked a handful of our favourite winemakers – from Saskia de Rothschild to Klaus-Peter Keller – to tell us what they’ll be uncorking

We find out the special bottles some of our favourite winemakers and distillers are uncorking this Christmas

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