This Sauternes estate was acquired by the Cathiard family of Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte in 2014. Located not too far from Ch. Suduiraut, the property has 52 hectares of vines in a single block. 

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Discover the wines of Ch. Bastor-Lamontagne, vineyard and winery in Sauternes, Bordeaux, producing sweet wines and owned by Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte 

Explore Ch. Bastor-Lamontagne wines, Sauternes

Ch. Bastor-Lamontagne 

Walking into the cooperage at Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte is like stepping back in time, filled with the smell of seasoned wood, an open fire and the same tools that barrel-makers have used for centuries. Few estates have the luxury of an in-house cooper. While producers inevitably work closely with the tonnelleries (barrel-making firms, such as François Frères, Stockinger and more), having an artisan on-site, working alongside the winemaking team to craft casks exclusively for your specific terroir is different. “It’s very important for the precision of the wine,” explains Cellar Master Yann Laudeho.  Florence and Daniel Cathiard, owners of the Pessac-Léognan estate, built a cooperage on-site almost 30 years ago, in 1995, and their current cooper, Yann Dez, has been working here since 2021. The Bordeaux native’s father was a metal worker, and Dez fell into the world of barrel-making entirely by accident – having a friend who was a tonnelier, and a job opening at an opportune moment. Before he knew it, Dez had learnt the trade from some of the best coopers in the country (including one who now makes the barrels at Ch. Margaux), and spending 15 years working under Didier Fesil. Fesil was the Cathiard family’s first cooper back in 1995, who went on to create his own small tonnellerie (Tonnellerie Bordelaise), and has been named the nation’s best “Master Cooper” – twice. Indeed, Fesil is still very involved with the estate, helping choose the wood for barrels and advising on all things oak; and it was Fesil who put Dez forward for the role at Smith Haut Lafitte.  “There are no books,” Dez says, when I ask about the art of barrel-making. “It’s passed on from tonnelier to tonnelier." The first evidence of coopering as a trade dates back to 900BC – with the craft passed down the generations ever since. “I continue the tradition,” Dez says, clearly with a sense of pride in this ancient, artisanal skill. But with the dust, noise and physical labour involved, tonnellerie schools, Dez tells me, are struggling to recruit young people. It’s common for coopers to have issues with their shoulders and ears (from the non-stop hammering) – and Dez himself has broken an elbow.  In theory, the process can be mechanised – but Dez is clear on how important it is to work by hand, and not just to preserve this ancient art. “I hear the nose, I feel the resistance,” he says. Each barrel, he explains, is different – with a slightly different number of staves and slightly different shape, all adapted according to the wood he’s working with. Selecting the right wood is key – “reading” it, he explains, looking at the grain to see where potential weaknesses are, understanding where will take the most pressure and placing each stave accordingly, ensuring not a drop can seep from the finished barrel. “It’s a job that is both physical, and at the same time requires thinking,” says Dez – and this combination is much of its allure for him.  Hearing the way Dez talks about barrels is fascinating; for him, they each have a unique personality. When I ask Dez how he knows he’s made a really good barrel, he shrugs: “On le sent.” (“You feel it.”) As you toast a barrel, he tells me, the scent of the smoke changes, releasing different aromas – something I smell as he works in front of me. Knowing when it’s spent the perfect amount of time over the fire is the secret – and it’s about more than just the smell, it’s a gut instinct that he can’t quite explain.  Smith Haut Lafitte sources oak from a range of forests, and are always trialling wood from different forests, toasts and doing blind tastings, although – after over 25 years – they know what works for their wine, and terroir. Cellar Master Laudeho explains that, for him, Tronçais and Jupilles are the best – “diamonds” that flawlessly complement their site. And that balance is key; the wood works for the wine, not the other way around.  It seems like a lonely job, I comment, hammering away in his tower – but it’s not something that bothers him. “I’m a bit of a perfectionist,” he tells me. Having only himself to depend on, and knowing that he can ensure each barrel meets his exacting standards, suits him. Indeed, he doesn’t even settle for standard tools – making most himself, custom-designed to suit the way he works. He talks me through a specific hammer that he made, and how it allows him to work better and more precisely, the wooden handle almost silken from the hours of use, shaped to his hand.   The lone electronic technology to have earned a place here are noise-cancelling headphones and a Marshall speaker. He’s a musician in his spare time, and an additional perk of working alone is that he gets to spend all day listening to music. “All the barrels I’ve made,” he says, “are made with music.” He avoids anything too modern or electronic, favouring old jazz, with some reggae, ska jazz and funk in the mix, depending on the day. While he doesn’t feel the music he listens to influences his coopering, he suspects his mood does – and music is a big part of that.  Woodwork is much more than a job for Dez. I spy a beautiful chest alongside his speaker, and it’s one that he made. He has a workshop at home too, spending his free time making everything from guitar stands and toys to chandeliers – anything, he says, that isn’t straight, and therefore can’t really be done by a machine.  It’s amazing watching him work – in the same way as coopers have for centuries – with a natural intuition, ease and precision. There’s definitely something musical to it, a craft that has its own rhythm. He makes around 300 barrels a year, and they may not be soloists – but each one contributes their own note to that year’s symphony.  Explore all current listings of Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte or read more about Bordeaux 

Wooden barrels line most of the finest wine cellars around the world – and many are made by hand. Continuing our series taking you behind the scenes in Bordeaux, we ducked into the cooperage at Smith Haut Lafitte to find out more about this special craft

We visited Pessac-Leognan’s Smith Haut Lafitte to talk to the wine estate’s master cooper, Yann Dez – and find out all about the art of barrel-making

Meeting Smith Haut Lafitte’s Master Cooper

Working to the beat: Smith Haut Lafitte’s Master Cooper

Go into any winery in the world, and it’s now unusual not to find a glass wine globe or clay amphora lurking in the corner. Oak has long been the traditional ageing vessel for wine – light, easily transportable, the grain fine enough to allow micro-oxygenation (aiding the polymerisation of tannins, making the wine more supple), and, especially when new, the ability to add toasty, spicy complexity. But with technology and global warming, many winemakers are looking beyond oak – and Jean-Marie Fourrier is one of them.  “We noticed the barrels generating the most problems were new oak,” says Fourrier. He and his team had been monitoring each barrel during élevage, and started noticing a trend. They observed that the volatile acidity was 0.2-0.3% higher in first-fill barrels. To compensate for the higher volatility, Fourrier had to add more sulphur to those barrels, something that he’d like to avoid – feeling that higher sulphur additions can mask the terroir.  But why were the new barrels the most volatile? With climate change, trees – Fourrier argues – are growing more quickly, meaning that their trunks don’t have the same density, and this is responsible for the increased volatility. He’s not alone in paying attention to the density of wood; it’s something that Clos de Sarpe has started monitoring, weighing each barrel and noting how this impacts the wine during élevage. Fourrier also feels that climate change has impacted cork, as he told me in 2021 – noting how cork is harvested every seven to eight years versus the 20 of yesteryear. The corks are less dense and this leads to higher oxygen transfer – it’s one reason that he chooses to wax his wines (instead of metal capsules), to help counter the quality of the cork itself, something that Olivier Lamy also believes is important.  With the extremes of climate change, the size of harvests varies more significantly than ever before – from the lows of 2021 to the highs of 2023. The pHs of wines are higher, making winemaking all the more tricky – a more challenging environment for yeast and higher risks of bacterial spoilage. Producers need to handle their wines more carefully, as well as juggle the vessels required for such extreme yield variations. If barrels are left empty, they become a breeding ground for bacteria, especially brettanomyces – so having the right number of vessels for your wine each year is essential, not to mention retaining a balance of new and old wood, to keep both a consistent style and not over- or under-oak the wines. (Some producers also only keep barrels for a certain number of years, again to avoid bacterial spoilage.)  “How can I age wine, keeping freshness, keeping purity?” says Fourrier, “Is 100% oak the direction? I don’t think so, to be honest, I think it’s a balance.” There were two options for him: either increase the level of sulphur additions, purely for the “ideology of wood” – or to evolve.  For him, using amphorae and stainless steel barrels alleviates some of these pressures – offering lower volatility, almost no bacterial risks and the vessels can be stored empty and more easily cleaned, not to mention they don’t need replacing. While he notes he is not about to release a “Cuvée Amphora”, ageing 20% of his wines in these alternatives allows for lower volatility, lower total sulphites and, in his view, helps give the wines freshness, complexity and a sense of place.   The 2022 vintage is the latest to bring these challenges to the fore; a return to a year born of global warming after the tricky, cool 2021. While for once they escaped the threat of frost, conditions were hot – although, unlike in 2019 or 2020, they received enough water to allow for a more plentiful crop. Gevrey-Chambertin saw a massive storm in June, bringing with it 100mm of rain in just an hour or so, flooding the streets of the village. Although it seemed devastating at the time, it was exactly what the vines needed to survive the dry stretch to the end of August and harvest at the start of September.  Although harvest dates creep earlier and earlier, Fourrier feels that some are picking prematurely (“We don’t do a Crémant,” he jokes). “Terroir needs to be revealed by phenolic maturity,” he explains, saying that his team started in early September. With the warmth of the year, he used around 15-20% whole-bunch to help retain freshness and elegance, and, as we’ve seen elsewhere so far, the alcohols are modest – sitting between 12.8 and 13.5%. The wines combine some of the characteristics of 2009 and 2015, Fourrier feels, yet are fresher, with an approachability that – as we have found – will make them easy to drink in their youth, despite having the structure and weight to age.  But now Fourrier’s mind is occupied by the 2023s, the wines just in the cellar – absorbed by the potential of the next vintage. It's this slow and constant evolution, the change and challenges, year in, year out, that keep him interested. With only one shot every 12 months, this business is, he says, “an internship of 40 years”. And it’s that approach – a modesty in the face of everything despite his reputation, constantly pushing forward, studying everything and never complacent – that makes Fourrier one of the region’s leading names. We’ve no doubt that his 2022s will be another display of his mastery.  Browse all current listings from Jean-Marie Fourrier and Domaine Fourrier, or read more about Burgundy 2022

The 2022 vintage in Burgundy is a year of the modern era – one born of today’s shifting climate. As the first of his wines from the year are released, Sophie Thorpe spoke to Jean-Marie Fourrier about how he’s managing global warming in the cellar – and what he thinks of 2022

We talk to iconic Burgundian winemaker Jean-Marie Fourrier about how to handle climate change in the cellar – and what he thinks of the 2022 vintage

Jean-Marie Fourrier – student and master

Student and master: Jean-Marie Fourrier

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

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

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

Clonal Cabernet Sauvignon with Schrader Cellars

Talking clonal Cabernet with Schrader Cellars

It is hard to imagine The Balvenie without David Stewart MBE and vice versa. The story of each one is so entwined with the other that it’s nigh on impossible to unpick where one starts and the other ends. Since joining William Grant & Sons in 1962 as a whisky stocks clerk, Stewart has gone on to become of the most well-known and respected names in the Scotch whisky industry. He is, for many, the pioneer of cask finishing, and his achievements are far too numerous to list. When the incredibly humble man “hangs up his boots” after a 57-year-plus career, Kelsey McKechnie will become the youngest-ever female Malt Master. “Everyone always jokes and says do I feel the pressure and what does it feel like getting into a role like this. There definitely is an element of pressure around it but it’s funny, you really don’t feel it. I enjoy this role and I love being here. I’ve been very lucky, so I’m saying ‘let’s ride it out for as long as we can’,” the 29-year-old says with unfettered excitement. The Malt Master role is a very different one today than it was in the 1960s, something McKechnie and William Grant & Sons Master Blender Brian Kinsman continually rib Stewart about. “Obviously, way back in the ’60s we had very little to nose,” Stewart says in a flash. When he joined the family-owned business under Master Blender and Balvenie Malt Master Hamish Robertson, Glenfiddich and The Balvenie weren’t being bottled as single malts and Grant’s Standfast blend was the company’s bread and butter. Today, the triumvirate nose samples from Ailsa Bay, Girvan Distillery, Kininvie, Glenfiddich and The Balvenie. From the new-make spirit to mature samples, bottling runs to all the vat samples, everything produced at the William Grant distilleries in Scotland and Ireland passes under the noses of Kinsman, McKechnie and Stewart. This equates to approximately 40-50 Scotch, Irish whiskey, Bourbon and rum samples per day. There are a number of parallels in Stewart and McKechnie’s stories, which they don’t even seem to realise. Both started in very different roles and eyed an interesting opportunity to nose spirits. Through serendipity and, one suspects, a tremendous amount of inherent skill and hard graft, the two found their way into the nosing lab. And once faced with row upon row of whisky samples, the pair knew in an instant that they found their calling. “I always say I have been very lucky,” McKechnie says. “I’m such a firm believer in timing. I came into the team at a time when I had built up enough technical process skills to understand how whisky is produced and carry out analysis, and do all these different things and apply it to blending.” In 2018, Kinsman and Stewart approached 26-year-old McKechnie to ask if she would be interested in learning all things regarding Balvenie and eventually moving into the Malt Master role. She’d been with the company for almost four years at this time, working her way from the lab to the whisky stocks team, from the Lowlands to the beating heart of the business in Speyside. So, what does it take to become a Malt Master and what did the two whisky patriarchs see in the young female scientist at the infancy of her whisky career? According to Stewart, one of the biggest things is the nosing aspect. “We can identify what’s right and what’s not, just by nosing the whisky,” he says. “And that’s what takes the time to learn.” Stewart had already been through the process of training a successor with Brian Kinsman from 2001 to 2010. It might be hard for some to fathom why this apprenticeship takes the best part of a decade, but so much of the role is about instinct and the finest of margins. In the same way Robertson brought in samples for Stewart – albeit not quite as many – all those years before, Stewart to this day brings in spirit samples for Kinsman and McKechnie. “Really, it’s nosing together; pointing out things,” Stewart adds. “I bring in samples from different cask types and different ages. Brian just worked with me and gradually he took over and I was doing less and less.” When asked if she thinks she has a natural gift, McKechnie says it’s curiosity above anything else that’s required to be a good noser. “I think everybody just needs to be curious enough to want to nose. Most often – apart from a few people where it is genetic and there’s one reason or another that they don’t have a sense of smell – I actually think so many people will be fantastic nosers.” And the difference between Joe Bloggs and the youngest-ever female Malt Master? The word association piece, according to McKechnie. “So often we’ll see when people are starting up that they can nose something and they can say ‘this is different’. So we do difference nosing. We have one glass and we’re just nosing it against another and saying ‘pick up the difference or not’ – it’s often easy for people but they can’t put into play what they can pick up.” Like any other skill, McKechnie says it takes years of practice and fine tuning. “It’s like using a different language,” she says. “To remain fluent, you need to continually keep nosing and to be able to relate those words to what you’re picking up in nose and taste. I actually think everyone has a gift, if that’s what you want to call it, or the ability to do it. It’s just about really working out what flavour this is and what do we call it.” Sometimes tasting notes for spirits and wines can be a little, shall we say, creative. For this reason, at William Grant & Sons, free words are banned. “We’re really strict about what people can call the different spirits,” McKechnie explains. “It could be too easy for somebody to say ‘this smells like a walk in the park’ and we can find ourselves in a bit of a pickle.” When starting out, as a professional or merely an appreciator of spirits, this word association piece can be a barrier, according to McKechnie, but it shouldn’t be. “There is no need for whisky to be intimidating at all,” she says. “For me, I think it’s because people are so passionate about it. It gets everyone a little bit puffed up – I’m guilty of it as well. But there really is no need for it at all because it really is such an open area that there isn’t one strict answer so I’ll always say that to people – if you are new to it, make sure you get lots of water in there because whisky is just such a flavour bomb. I think people don’t really know what they’re nosing because there are 50-100 different flavours coming at you at once.” So, do the three professional nosers ever disagree? “Because I’ve only ever learned to nose and blend from David who has learned from Brian and vice versa, we don’t often butt heads or have a difference of opinion –  but it does happen,” McKechnie says with a coy smile. Rather than being daunted by the spectre of the longest-serving Malt Master and Kinsman – who has racked up a fairly daunting 24 years in role – McKechnie seems energised by the legacy and is visibly thrilled at the prospect of one day imparting this knowledge to her own apprentice. “I think it would be a massive compliment to be able to give someone the knowledge you have gained,” she says. “I really like the thought of actually one day being able to train someone.” When it comes to the future at The Balvenie, McKechnie says they have “many things bubbling away in the warehouses” and they have “a few more Balvenies tucked up our sleeves”. But, on a personal note, “it’s working with Brian and David day-in-day-out and gaining more of the understanding about what makes Balvenie so unique. Understanding more around the stock model and that 50-year horizon and ensuring that I’ve got the skills to make sure the next 50 years is looking good and that we’re not laying down all the wrong things.” The Balvenie maintains a lot of the traditional whisky-making traditions. It is the only Scotch whisky distillery to grow its own barley, use traditional floor maltings and keep coppersmiths and coopers on site. Rather than being gilded handcuffs, these ties to traditions allow the team to experiment at the point of distillation and Stewart has spearheaded a number of trials that have come from the maltings throughout his career. “I think if there is one thing that David has ever taught me, it’s about how important innovation is,” McKechnie says. “We always talk about the fact we’re the home of cask finishing. It was something that was second nature in David’s role until people started calling it innovation. “And it’s something that we always want to pass on. We’re constantly thinking about what’s next and how can we do something unique and what exciting things we have in the distillery that we could release and bring to everyone. “Obviously the Scotch Whisky Association is pretty strict, in a good way, so that no-one is going to mimic us, but we also like to push the boundaries a little bit and say, what can we really get away with here?” With a glint in her eye and an unmistakable enthusiasm in her voice, you can’t help but feel The Balvenie, when it comes to honouring tradition and driving innovation, is in very safe hands for the next 50 years and beyond. Browse all whisky or read more Editorial

David Stewart MBE is the longest-serving Malt Master. Kelsey McKechnie is the youngest female Malt Master Apprentice. Holly Motion speaks to the two Balvenie record-breakers about passing the baton, the weight of a legacy, and what it really means to lay down stocks for the next generation

Balvenie's longest-serving Malt Master David Stewart MBE and his successor Kelsey McKechnie on upholding tradition while driving innovation at the distillery.

The Balvenie, making of a master

The Balvenie: the making of a master

When people say they’ve put their blood, sweat and tears into something, more often than not, it’s a figure of speech. This is not the case for Bimber Distillery founder Dariusz Plazewski, who has put everything into the build of his dream Speyside distillery, Dunphail. The day before we speak, Plazewski was on the roof of one of his new distillery buildings, mucking in and making sure the mammoth project that was a lifetime in the making stays on track.   The Polish-born Plazewski is a third-generation distiller – or more accurately, moonshiner – who emigrated to London 20 years ago. After observing the English craft distilling boom from afar, the trained architect seized the opportunity to put his family’s legacy and knowhow to good use and set about building Bimber, a single malt whisky distillery based in West London. Bimber’s inaugural bottling, The First, sold out within three hours of release in 2019 – and demand has far outstripped supply ever since.    Fast forward three years and Plazewski is mere months away from realising his dream of producing a single malt Scotch whisky. But it hasn’t been easy.   “There are lots of challenges,” he tells me matter-of-factly. When we catch up, after two aborted attempts, the Master Distiller sounds ever-so-slightly weary – and it’s not hard to fathom why. Today, he is speaking from London, where he’s been “sorting out a few things” at Bimber. He’s boarding a flight back to Scotland in a couple of days and then he’s taking a much-needed holiday – where he confesses he will be on email constantly.   Rest is not in his nature. (Plazewski has been pinballing from one project to the next for decades. By the end of 2022, he says he will have “given up” his other business and solely focus on spirits.) Nor is adhering to the status quo.    Since founding Bimber in 2015, the Master Distiller has prided himself on being a bit of a renegade. Where others have embraced modern whisky-making practices, Plazewski has been staunchly traditional in his approach – and it has served him exceedingly well. “Whisky was always my passion and when I found out that there was a craft movement of whisky and gin distilling, I just started researching,” he tells me. “It took me a long time but I wanted to do something different. I wanted to always do something which was a bit old-fashioned.”  Plazewski’s father and grandfather before him (illegally) made wine, spirits and beer in his native Poland – Bimber translates as “moonshine” in Polish – and Plazewski was an eager protégé with a natural talent from a young age. I refrain from asking how young.   “The good thing is that I understand all the production, all the process, all the fermentation, and how to make alcohol,” he tells me. “Not only whisky but how to make any alcohol really. Sense of smell, touch, and all this just naturally comes to me.”   Plazewski says his fate was sealed the moment he travelled to Scotland and fell in love with Speyside single malts. Dunphail was always going to happen – he just didn’t know when. Starting his (legal) distilling career with Bimber was a shrewd decision. English whisky was then a relative unknown, so Plazewski used this scene as his sandbox to prove to himself and others that traditional whisky production should not be consigned to the history books.   Bimber was, and for the time being still is, a small-scale traditional whisky-making operation. Local barley is grown on a single farm in neighbouring Hampshire. It is floor-malted at Britain’s oldest maltster, Warminster Maltings, and hand-mashed. The two copper pot stills are direct-fired (with a flame, as the name suggests, rather than the more modern and efficient method of steam) and fermentation times are twice the industry average at seven days.  These practices are astoundingly rare in today’s modern whisky world. The majority of producers abandoned floor maltings (the method of malting grain by hand on large malting floors) in favour of industrial malting processes and did away with direct-firing stills (in favour of steam) decades ago, deeming them inefficient and costly. While it is possible to find distillers who adopt some of these techniques – notable examples being Laphroaig, Glenfarclas and Bowmore – it is incredibly rare to find a producer who is able or willing to apply all these labour-intensive and budget-zapping practices.   “I will never be a distiller without floor maltings,” he says physically baulking at the idea of producing whisky any other way. “Never. No. For me, it is crucial,” he adds.    With Dunphail, Plazewski is going one step further than Bimber and building his own traditional floor maltings on-site. This will put Dunphail in a highly exclusive group, and the move has received mixed responses from Plazewski’s peers.   “For me it is very important,” Plazewski says. “I know many people said, wow are you crazy because this is hard work, this is lots of involvement, why are you doing it?”  I can’t help asking him the same. To which he says: “Because nobody is doing this anymore and I want to continue this craft, I want people to see how the whisky was made before. I think it is going to be good fun and I think this is going to be a great feature for our distillery.”  In addition to floor maltings, Dunphail’s stills will also be direct-fired – Glenmorangie was the first to install steam-heated stills in 1887 and countless others followed until only a handful of direct-fired producers remained. Plazewski is the first to acknowledge the practice of heating stills in this traditional way is far less efficient and costly but for him it was non-negotiable and vital to produce the highest-quality Speyside whisky possible – fruit-forward, oily and medium-bodied. He is also in the minority sourcing Dunphail’s barley and peat locally. There are undoubtedly easier routes to produce whisky but the mere suggestion is sacrilege to Plazewski.  Steadfast on his goal, Plazewski set about finding the perfect location to produce traditional single malt Scotch whisky. After years of searching, he settled on a location in the heart of Speyside – a typically renegade move as the majority of new distilleries have been built outside this iconic region. He explains: “The location was really difficult and challenging as well to be honest.”  “I love Speyside – it’s my favourite part in Scotland. First of all, it is a great area because it has got microclimate, so it’s not too cold there and it’s not too rainy. And it’s pretty sunny.” Additionally, he says: “Speyside whiskies are my favourite.”  When asked if he feels the weight of this tradition or pressure to produce a stand-out Speyside whisky in one of the most densely populated whisky-making regions in the world, he says not.   “We are tiny. We’re not going to be competing with the big, established brands. Most of the new distilleries are not built in Speyside, they are mostly built in Fife area. And not many are really going the route we are with the floor maltings and old-fashioned techniques we are trying to apply.”  In addition to the many challenges that come with building a distillery to a blueprint that no longer exists, Plazewski has embattled with supply chain issues following Brexit, Covid and now the war in Ukraine. It’s a minor miracle – and a testament to the tenacity of Plazewski – that the Dunphail build is on schedule and production is set to begin, as planned, at the end of the year.   When asked how he feels, Plazewski pauses for a moment, takes a short intake of breath and hurriedly says: “It’s amazing. It’s hard work. I need a break. That’s why I need this holiday because it’s not only physical work, it’s the mental as well – planning everything.”  He pauses again. “It’s been a stressful and challenging time. But we are on schedule, we’ve planned this well.”  After Dunphail is up and running, and Plazewski has trained his dream team to the standard of Bimber, you wonder what’s next. You sense he won’t just stop after realising his Scottish dream, and that there will be a new North Star.    When asked, he responds to the question with a wry smile, indicating this is not the first time it has been posed to him by others, or even himself. “I would say yes, I’m done after this, but people I know and people around me are saying to me, you are never going to stop, you’re going to find something else.  “But I would say I think I’ve done my dream and when this [distillery] is going to be open, I’m thinking to really concentrate and not do anything more. I don’t think I will put too much pressure on myself and my family again.” A seed of doubt creeps in and then he says resolutely: “No, this is it, it’s going to be my dream, it’s going to be super exciting and I’m not going to go for anything else. I’m just going to enjoy the time and share the drams.” We’ll ask him again in five years’ time.   For the time being, at least, Plazewski (and the wider whisky world) is satiated with turning modern whisky-making on its head and bringing fiercely traditional practices back to one of the oldest and most prestigious whisky regions in the world.   Browse all Scotch whisky or read more Editorial

For the past seven years Dariusz Plazewski has led the vanguard of English whisky-making at Bimber. With his first Scotch distillery, Dunphail, months away from production, the indefatigable architect-cum-Master-Distiller tells Holly Motion how he and his distilleries were built to be different   

Bimber has become a whisky-making icon. Now Master Distiller Dariusz Plazewski has set his sights on Scotland with Dunphail. We explore the ethos behind both

How the brains behind Bimber built Dunphail  

Dariusz Plazewski: grand designs

Last year Colgin celebrated its 30th harvest. In a relatively short time, this Napa estate has become one of the most successful wineries in the region, if not the world. Its three single-vineyard wines – Cariad, Tychson Hill and IX Estate – regularly receive 99-100 points scores across the board, establishing it as one of the region’s cult Cabernet estates that has put Napa on the international fine wine map. Despite its international repute, however, Paul Roberts – Master Sommelier and Colgin’s COO – believes the estate, and Napa Valley as a whole, is still only just starting to tell its story. Napa, more than anywhere else, has been massively influenced by wine critics’ scores. While there is much fanfare over being awarded a perfect 100 points, these headline-grabbing scores have distracted from the actual reasons why this hugely heterogeneous region can produce such great wines, and that the wines themselves are distinctly varied, both in style and flavour profile. For some collectors, if a wine from Napa doesn’t have a 99 or 100-point score then they aren’t interested; however more engaged collectors are starting to identify the nuances within the region and are eager to learn more. Roberts has noticed this first-hand. “[People] don’t want to rely only on a score for guidance but instead begin to look for reasons why they really like these wines from Pritchard Hill, for instance… this is an evolution.” It reminds Roberts of a conversation he had with Dominique Lafon (Domaine des Comtes Lafon) when visiting Burgundy. Lafon said to Roberts, “When Domaine Faiveley sued Robert Parker in 1993, it was the best thing that could have happened to Burgundy. Parker left Burgundy and no other critic at the time had the influence like he did.” Lafon felt that it forced the wineries in Burgundy to focus on the story behind their wine – the characteristics of each vineyard – instead of a score. “This has to be the next evolution in understanding the great wines and the great terroirs of Napa,” says Roberts.  While Roberts emphasises that Colgin doesn’t trade on its scores, it is fortunate to have them. “But Napa is about a place – and we need to talk about this more,” he says. “The place is going to outlive you, me, Robert Parker, Lisa Perrotti-Brown, Antonio Galloni, all of us will be dead and gone, but the land abides. The place will hopefully begin to take on its own unique story, just in the same way you think Romanée-Saint-Vivant is different to Richebourg.” Tasting Colgin with Roberts, you quickly realise that for him tannins (their shape, intensity and mouthfeel) are an important aspect of understanding Napa’s different terroirs, as well as what really sets Napa apart from other Cabernet-growing regions around the world. Firstly, there’s the sheer volume of tannins. Top Napa Cabernets have higher skin-to-juice ratios than even the First Growths, notes Roberts, and therefore much more “antioxidant” tannins than their Bordeaux counterparts, vital for long ageing and development in bottle. Colgin’s mountainside IX Estate vineyard on Pritchard Hill produces berries that are, on average, 30% smaller than those grown in Pauillac and, to Roberts, have a completely different tannin profile. “While we love and enjoy drinking Bordeaux wines,” says Roberts, “Napa shoots itself in the foot every time we keep comparing our wines to Bordeaux. The climate, the terroir, the soils, they are just completely different.” When asked to describe the differences between the various regions within Napa, Roberts wants the tannins to guide you. While the reality is more nuanced, generally Roberts finds that the further south you are, the more elegant the tannin profile. In the south it is slightly cooler, something further exaggerated by the elevation. The northern part of the valley, however, produces “exotic, fleshy, powerful wines”. He finds that the mountain appellations – Spring Mountain, Howell Mountain and Diamond Mountain – produce powerful, dense, tannic, structured wines.  
Today Napa wines are often divided into those from the valley floor and those from mountain sites. While this binary division is one way to approach the geographical distinctions within Napa, but it is, Roberts feels, overly simplistic. Most importantly, it doesn’t allow for wines that are neither valley floor or mountain – the hillside vineyards, such as Colgin. 
Napa’s climate is influenced heavily by marine fog. Every day during the growing season, a layer of fog forms over the vineyards. Valley floor vineyards sit below the fog line and are protected from the full daytime power of the sun, moderating the climate. Mountain sites are above the fog line and are therefore constantly exposed to the California sunshine, which, according to Roberts, produces “a different berry structure” to the grapes on the valley floor. “The berries are smaller and have much thicker skins, very different tannins and much later picking cycles, since the mountain appellations are cooler due to elevation,” he explains.

“This cloud layer, that determines whether you are in a valley floor appellation, or a mountain appellation, tops off around 1,400 feet,” says Roberts. “ Howell Mountain’s vineyards starts at 1,400 feet; Diamond Mountain – most properties sit between 1,600-2,600 feet; Spring Mountain have some vineyards at 3,000 feet.” These then sit comfortably above the fog line and are rightly classified as mountain appellation wines. But Colgin, along with some others, Roberts believes, are wrongly considered mountain wines.

Colgin’s vineyards sit between 300 and 1,400 feet, and remain in or below the fog line. So, in some ways, they are similar to the valley floor, but, because they are on a hillside, they benefit from what Roberts calls “the devigourating nature of a hillside rocky soil”. These hillside vineyards have their own distinct climatic and geological influence – that doesn’t fit with mountain terroir or valley floor, but shares elements of both. For Roberts, Colgin’s vineyards are better described as a mid-slope hillside appellation, and it finds itself in good company.  
“If you look back at the time when we released our first vintage,” says Roberts, “we were labelled among a number of wineries as one of the cult Cabernet estates. Harlan Estate, Bryant Estate, Eisele Vineyards and ourselves – you look, and all of them are planted on mid-slope hillsides." Screaming Eagle (another cult Cabernet estate), Roberts admits, is strictly valley floor, but it is still on a slope. “A lot of people at the time said you are not going to be able to get Cabernet ripe and it’s too hard to plant in the rocky soils on these mid-slopes,” says Roberts. “But now this is where you see a lot of the great estates are situated.” “Even if you look at a famous vineyard like To Kalon,” says Roberts, “it is roughly the same size as Clos Vougeot. We all know Clos Vougeot is a Grand Cru, but within the vineyard it has some Grand Cru quality terroir, some not so good Premier Cru quality and even some village quality terroir, all within the same delineated boundary. Well, To Kalon is the same. If you get close to the road (Highway 29), it is a totally different style of wine than if you are further back on the toe of the hill where there is deeper gravel. That to me is like the Grand Cru part of To Kalon and that part, like Screaming Eagle, is on a slope, and behaves closer to a mid-slope hillside appellation than valley floor.”  The great advantage of these mid-slope hillside appellations, according to Roberts, is not only better drainage and the natural devigouration of the rocky soils, but a different ripening cycle. Because the soils are that much drier, they warm up quicker at the beginning of the season, pushing the hillside vineyards to bud earlier and to ripen more quickly than those on the valley floor and in the mountain appellations. This helps them avoid the late season rain that can disrupt a vintage. The result, therefore, is much more consistency year to year. Roberts notes that more and more producers are realising the virtues of the Napa hillsides, with the likes of Tim Mondavi now planting on Pritchard Hill. Despite demand for these hillside plots, which have proven their potential, Roberts doesn’t expect to see the “appellation” expand much more. Regulation and restrictions from California’s Land Use Law prevents any new plantings on Napa’s hillsides, preserving key natural habitats. And that might be no bad thing, since the residential properties being developed in the region and their ornamental plantings of lavender and rosemary, Roberts argues, pose a huge fire risk for the region. California faces a tumultuous future. As aquafers dry up and fires rage around the state, California sometimes feels like a perilous place that needs protecting. Colgin know the dangers only too well. On 17th August 2020, a freak storm hit California. The state saw 10,000 lightning strikes in 24 hours. One of the two huge fires that the storm caused started directly opposite Colgin’s vineyards. “Within four hours, we were in an evacuation zone,” says Roberts. “The fire couldn’t be put out by a fire crew because it was on such a steep hillside, they couldn’t get to it. All air assets had been deployed to southern California, since that is where they thought the storm would hit.” Fortunately, vineyards act as firebreaks and Colgin’s vineyards were saved – although they didn’t make any wine in 2020 because of the smoke damage. Such a close call has Roberts and his team doing everything they can to minimise the risks. A massive amount of brush clearing, putting in fire roads as well as bringing in new technology to minimize the risks. At the top of Colgin’s vineyards, Roberts recently approved a heat camera that can sense and detect the emergence of a fire, allowing them to deploy helicopters and put fires out early, before they have a chance to spread.

While these issues have become a day-to-day concern in the region, Roberts is confident Napa is turning a page in its history. If you look beyond the headlines of high scores and wildfires, Napa’s vineyards and varied terroir are starting to find a voice – and that’s where the real story is. Your guide to Colgin’s three single vineyards: IX Estate, Tychson Hill and Cariad While Colgin’s three single vineyards all share mid-slope hillside positioning and the climatic benefits this brings, the sites produce three very different styles of Cabernet, due to their different soils and microclimates. IX Estate IX Estate is an 8.07-hectare vineyard situated on Pritchard Hill overlooking Lake Henessey at an altitude of between 1,100 and 1,400 feet. The IX Estate vineyard’s bedrock is made up of old lava flow, full of iron. The soil looks red, dotted with large volcanic boulders. According to Colgin’s COO Paul Roberts MS, the iron component gives an almost sanguine nature to the tannins. “There are lots of them, but they are very, very fine,” says Roberts. “Then there is an almost bloody note – not as much as in the Northern Rhône – not full blood – not that extreme, but more mouth-watering, not from the acidity but from the flavour/nature of the tannins.” The wines from IX Estate have a distinct red fruit profile on the palate which is a classic element of this part of Napa. The wild flora and fauna around the vineyard, to Roberts, “add an almost herb component, as close as you get to garrigue in the south of France – thyme, rosemary, wild sage.” Tychson Hill Tychson Hill is an historic vineyard site, first planted in the 19th century. The vines were pulled out during prohibition, with the site only replanted by Anne Colgin in the mid-1990s. The vineyard is north of the town of St Helena at an altitude of 300-422 feet. In total 2.42 hectares are planted to vines. The bedrock is also volcanic, but with a very different volcanic origin to IX Estate, with a mix of gravel and obsidian black stone (a black volcanic glass). According to Roberts, the wines from Tchyson Hill has less tannin than IX Estate and they are rounder, without the edges you get in IX Estate. “The tannin quality of the wine begins to emulate the shape of the stones you find in the vineyard,” says Roberts. “Tychson Hill is a much older material – so a finer quality of tannin.” The diurnal shift at Tychson Hill also has a distinct effect on the wines, with a shift of up to 9-10˚C – which provides much more aromatics and more red fruit character. “The climate can fully volatilise and metabolize tannins,” says Roberts, “so they appear much softer.” It is also, he believes, Colgin’s most approachable wine in its youth. Cariad Cariad is a steeper vineyard site, 3.2 hectares in the western hills of St Helena at an altitude of 400-500 feet. The vines are grown on what is an uplifted, old gravel riverbed. The tannins, according to Roberts, are “more spherical because of the rounded stones in the vineyard”. The fruit is more purple in character. Earlier vintages of Cariad were a Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend that typically was the slowest maturing of the three, needing the longest time for the tannins to fully integrate, but today much of the Merlot has been replaced with Cabernet Franc, which Roberts believes brings a much “fleshier beauty” early on in its maturity. Browse all Colgin listings or read more editorial

Napa’s finest wines receive stratospheric scores – but there’s much more to the region’s story. Gavin Smith talks to Master Sommelier and Colgin COO about why it’s time to stop focusing on critical acclaim and let Napa’s vineyards speak for themselves

Exploring how Napa’s vineyards are finding their voice with a spotlight on Colgin’s three single vineyards: IX Estate, Tychson Hill and Cariad

Exploring a new chapter for Napa

A new chapter for Napa

The name Andrew Rankin might not mean much to the average whisky drinker. But mention him to the whisky world – the one that exists behind the public glare, and is largely reliant on lasting relationships and mutual respect – and there’ll be little doubt who you’re referring to.   Throughout his career, Rankin has worked for two of the biggest names in the industry: Chivas Brothers and Morrison Bowmore. When we speak, on an overcast Monday in early November, he tells me it’s 47 years to the day that he joined the ranks as a trainee blender at Chivas.  It’s hard to imagine a wet-behind-the-ears Rankin embarking on his “old-fashioned proper blending training”. He remembers those days fondly, tasting hundreds of different distillates – including malts and grains from Scotland and the US – from the vast library, and getting stuck in with every aspect of the production process from distillation to the vatting and cask dumping. It wasn’t long before the young Rankin found his passion: casks.   “There was a lot of not-very-good wood filled in the industry way back in the 1970s and ’80s,” he tells me. “Even in those early days, I pushed to get some better quality wood in the system.”   Rankin learned from the old guard at Chivas who’d spent their life in the industry. In the early 1990s, he moved to Morrison Bowmore in a General Manager role, concentrating on blending, inventory management and, most importantly, cask trading. He spent 22 “lovely years” at the company until his position became untenable when Suntory (“in their infinite wisdom”, Rankin says wryly) decided to buy Morrison Bowmore’s owners Beam in 2014.   Rankin says the whole dynamic changed overnight and the decision to move global management of all spirits – including whisky – under American management in Chicago was the final straw for him, Chief Executive Mike Keiller and Finance Director Douglas Crawford, who all walked that same year. Rankin says he “doesn’t want to get into it all” but does say part of his motivation to leave was the fact he didn’t want to work for an American-managed company that late in his career – having already experienced a similar takeover with Chivas and Seagram many years earlier.   Rankin is a loquacious Scotsman. When you land on the right subject, he can talk endlessly with such knowledge and humour that it’s easy to lose track of time. In fact, when a small team from FINE+RARE visited his new distillery project, Ardross, in August, we did just that. One thing he doesn’t talk about, without great coaxing, is his immense success. This includes but is in no way limited to his work on Bowmore Black, the Trilogy releases, and the 50-year-old. He is a humble man, and has quite intentionally stepped back from the limelight, while some of his counterparts have been drawn to it.   Since setting up his own company in 2014, Rankin has not stopped working. Undoubtedly his biggest project has been Ardross, a new distillery in the Scottish Highlands. Rankin was given the mandate (and a healthy budget of £30m) to find a home for the new distillery by Ardross Single Cask Society founder Barth Brosseau. He found the dilapidated 50-acre site, which was formerly a farm, with its own seven-acre loch and moved heaven and earth to turn it into the stunning distillery we see today.   Rankin says the project has, and continues to be, “much much bigger” than he originally anticipated, and what started out as a little tree constantly grows branches all over the place. But, he says, it has been his biggest achievement to date.   The latest unwieldy branch is a second, small-batch distillery that is being built on the Ardross site, destined to become the Creative Suite – exclusively for Single Cask Society Members’ use. Once completed, it will be capable of producing 250 casks a year of almost any style of whisky that a Society Member could desire. When it is up and running, likely by the end of next year, Society members will be able to call Rankin or visit him at the distillery to discuss their requirements. He will advise them on certain elements and Sandy Jamieson – Ardross’s Distillery Manager with near-50 years’ experience, and hands-down one of the most hospitable people you will meet – will get involved in the “nittier grittier side of the distillation”.  “Society members have the flexibility of different malt styles, of different grain stills, of different blend styles, and the multi-cask options that we’ll have available,” Rankin says. “But always without getting to the gimmicky stage,” he adds gravely.   This is a word that comes up a lot in our conversations – “gimmicky”. Rankin is, by his own admission, a traditionalist and has baulked at the changes in the whisky industry over the past 47 years.    “In my mind, a gimmicky type thing that lets you say we were the first in the world to do x only lasts a day and then it’s old news,” he says. “So everything we do falls within traditional methods – but pushing the boundaries a wee bit in terms of the styles of whisky.”  After spending a number of hours with Rankin, you can tell he’s not the type to mince his words – his standards are exacting, and he’s been around the block enough times to know when he’s being sold a pony. For these reasons, and many more, he’s unafraid to tell Brosseau – who he on occasion butts heads with – and Society members what he thinks.      It’s this straight-talking, mixed with an unwavering sense of tradition, that has stood him in such good stead throughout his career. Relationships formed over the past four decades have been vital to getting Ardross off the ground and saved his bacon – and the whisky producers he’s worked for – countless times.   “I always made it my policy to not sit on the end of the phone negotiating prices or volumes never having met the person that’s at the other end,” he tells me. “I’ve made it a policy that we’d go and visit all the major suppliers. We’d have dinner with them. We’d get to know them.”  When Rankin first started visiting Kentucky – a place he has a real fondness for and has undoubtedly influenced elements of the Ardross build – the state was just coming back from a real depression. He got to know a lot of people in the cooperages and distilleries, and many of these relationships last to this day. You sense it is this longevity and being around throughout hardship that has fortified these ties. The same is likely true of Japan. Enviably, Rankin has a relationship with one of the oldest independent cooperages in Japan, from whom he sources a steady amount of the mystical Mizunara cask – something many producers would give their right arm for. As quite a coup, Ardross filled some of its first runs of new-make spirit into Mizunara in 2020.   Rankin is too humble to go into detail but he does say these relationships have proven useful over the years. “If barley is in short supply, which it was not that many years ago,” he says, “because of our relationship, we would always get priority. If casks were in short supply, we’d always get the priority.”   Sadly, this way of working is something Rankin sees diminishing in most industries. “Everything is done via Zoom and telephone and internet now,” he bemoans. “Having listened to some of COP26, the environmentalists will say that’s a good thing, you’re not using air travel, but there has got to be a balance.”  Another change Rankin “isn’t keen on” is “the quest to get something different all the time”. “All the limited releases,” he says downcast. “The best limited release now is the standard edition because [producers] push everything else and don’t push the standard edition,” he only half jokes.  “Make no mistake, Barth and I have had a lot of serious heated discussions on various things like all the different wines and tequila [finishes]. It’s not traditional,” he says impassioned. “Why would we want to put a perfectly good product into a cask that’s had tequila maturing for six months?”   He pauses for what seems like an eternity, and I’m unsure if he wants an answer, before he, mercifully, continues: “I ask the question and I’ll get the response that it’s what the modern market wants. To which I respond: ‘says who?’”  Throughout his career, Rankin says he’s always stuck to the more traditional casks, like Sherry and Port. But he’s quick to say that the market is a minefield, and you need to proceed with caution as producers are often offloading casks for a reason.   “Even Port is one that would be low down of my list of things to use,” he says. “Because historically, Port producers don’t generate a lot of casks. They only generate them when they are clearing a warehouse out. The casks will be sold to people in the whisky industry when there is absolutely no maturation left in them at all, so you’re achieving nothing by finishing in those types of casks.”   Rankin says the only chance you have of producing a decent whisky, or at the very least not ruining the good one you’ve got, is to deal with certain individuals who will give you a cask that’s not spent.   He tells me some horror stories from the Glasgow facility where he warehouses and oversees cask operations. “We see some of the casks come in, and we’ve gotta send it back. They’ll say the Sherry casks are new. They’re not. They are probably the oldest casks that have been lying in that bodega. I have to say to the client, ‘Trust me, you’ll lose half your whisky because it’s not good wood, it’s very porous-looking, the smell inside them is slightly sour and you can’t get rid of that. But, it’s your gamble’.” Unsurprisingly, they heed his advice and make another call pretty sharpish.   He adds: “You’ve just got to know what you’re looking for and be careful. Because you can ruin a perfectly good whisky.”   It’s rare to meet somebody with such candour in or out of the whisky industry. Hand on heart, I can’t think of a person I’d rather entrust to guide me when deciding what to do with my whisky.   Learn more about Ardross or read more Editorial 

After working as Master Blender for some of the biggest names in the industry, Andrew Rankin knows a thing or two about good whisky – and good casks. He tells Holly Motion why strong relationships and traditional values are far more important to him than being a whisky personality

The ex-Bowmore Master Blender Andrew Rankin talks about working for some of the biggest names in the whisky industry and tells us why relationships are key.

Ex-Bowmore Master Blender Andrew Rankin on casks

The great Scotsman

After speaking with some of the foremost fine tea experts in the western world, a few things are immediately apparent. Fine tea is complex. There are undoubtedly parallels with the world of fine wine. And, almost without exception, the best examples are incredibly hard to source this side of Asia. It is also an incredibly tricky subject to learn more about if you, like me, don’t speak Chinese or Japanese. A quick stroke of the key will yield information on fine tea and where to find it. But your best bet is either boarding a plane to Asia (which is currently not without its difficulties) or finding somebody who has spent years immersing themselves in the fine tea world – they’ll likely speak the local dialect. “People are very literate when it comes to fine wine and whisky,” Jameel Lalani is quick to tell me, “not so literate when it comes to tea, although it is completely applicable.” When he set up his specialist single-batch tea business, Lalani & Co, 11 years ago, Lalani was very deliberate in borrowing the language of fine wine. “Tea is much like wine,” he explains, “it’s a drink of the terroir. Everything you do from when you choose the land and the seeds and the people you are going to work with is going to affect the flavour.” The choice of varietal, distance above sea level and picking season are also of the utmost importance. Lalani says tea is his drink, and has been since the age of four. He hasn’t looked back since tasting green tea for the first time while holidaying in North Africa as a child. One of the magical things about fine tea, I’m learning, is the paths people have taken into it. Burgundy expert and Master of Wine Jasper Morris, for example, was introduced to the world of fine tea in New Zealand, of all places, by a blind Taiwanese winemaker. From that day onwards, Morris attended Chinese tea ceremonies and swotted up on all things fine tea whenever the opportunity arose on wine trips to China and Japan. “I absolutely love it and drink it all day – from first getting up through to after dinner,” he enthuses. Fine tea is now a real passion of his, frequently hosting tasting and writing on the subject. Timothy d’Offay’s induction began while studying Japanese in Kyoto in the early 1990s. He’s been a disciple ever since – writing numerous fine tea books (in English and Japanese) and establishing one of the most highly regarded fine tea shops, Postcard Teas, in the process. Many years later, d’Offay says he is still learning, and it’s one of the things he loves most about the fine tea world. “It’s so disconnected,” d’Offay says. “Whereas specialty coffee is a world industry now and you can drink a similar product with a similar style in Sydney, Seoul, London or San Francisco, tea isn’t like that. Tea is very, very regional and very local. The predominant sales of the fine teas are local, in China in particular. “And the Chinese tea world is so different from even other countries like Japan that get their tea culture originally from China. It’s so vast.” Morris says things we have learned from wine – soil, subsoil, drainage etc – matter a great deal in fine tea. “In the Wuyi Mountains, for example, each individual mountain has its own character,” he explains, “so the underlying rock is crucial. Then also, instead of the grape variety, the cultivar of tea can make a difference as well. How and when you pick it – again a parallel – and how and when you process it.” D’Offay says wine and tea are both at the pinnacles – wine in the west, tea in the east – and despite the groundswell of appreciation for fine tea, many still struggle to shake misconceptions and get their heads around the complexities. “You’re always learning,” he says. “Probably the biggest barrier people have is a concept of what tea is,” Morris adds. “If somebody says black tea to you, they probably mean they don’t want milk in it, but there is a style of tea which we loosely call black. In fact, in China it’s more likely to be called red tea than black tea – that sort of dark tea – but there are white teas, yellow teas (which are pretty rare), red teas, green teas, and a lot depends on the season things are picked. “So, if, for example, we switch from China to India to Darjeeling. Darjeeling is in fact a type of tea which is much much more similar to Chinese tea than it is to the rest of Indian tea. If you get a first flush Darjeeling, it’s almost almost not quite a green tea, and that’s a tea that I adore and buy in big quantities.” Another hangover from old is the misconception surrounding price and what one should pay for quality. “One of the challenges in the tea world is that the mass market has demanded tea at a very low price,” Lalani says. “Some of these terroirs are phenomenal but the market says we want our tea cheap and quick. And that’s kind of like if you went to Bordeaux and you said I’d like your wine for €3.60 a bottle. What are you going to do? It doesn’t give you enough room. So what happens is the quality just goes down because you have to produce in quantity.” When purchasing fine tea, there are good resources online but d’Offay cautions: “Buyer beware.” Some enthusiasts, he explains, have a vested interest and commercial gains tied to your purchase. “The more you pay doesn’t mean that you’ll like the tea more. It’s very important to find out what you like first, before spending a lot of money online.” He says there is no right thing, just like with wine. “It’s a wide field and often your taste will not coincide with somebody else’s, so it’s really important to taste a lot of tea and find out what you like.” On this, Morris says it’s the same as when buying wine. “You just need to be buying it from somebody you trust – both for their taste and their integrity. Then let them guide you down the learning curve. And as with wine, there are some brilliant teas which may just not suit your palate.” If you are interested in getting into tea, d’Offay advises spending more money on tea and less money on the tea-making equipment. “You really need very basic tea equipment,” he explains. For Chinese teas, d’Offay says a Gaiwan – lidded cup – or a simple brewer is a good starting point. Porcelain, he says, is quite robust and glass is ok. You don’t, for example, need Yixing (the exquisite teapot pronounced yee-shing) to start with. He says he did a tasting with some “pretty good teas” with two mugs and a strainer recently. But is quick to add: “I’m not recommending that everyone brews in one mug and strains in another mug, but it is better than wasting a lot of money on really fancy stuff.” It’s always a good idea to ask questions and look for certain things when purchasing fine tea, Lalani says. “Most of the tea that gets produced gets blended – it will be picked, it will be sold to a brand, they will blend it up and it will sit on a shelf somewhere with their brand on it and that’s it. You may know where it’s from, for example, you might know what you’re buying is a Darjeeling, you may know the season – they might tell you it’s a first flush or a second flush. But it could be a blend of any number of different batches. It could be a blend of any number of different producers. It could be a blend of any number of different vintages. So the less information they give you, the less you know what’s in it.” Taking the time to make an educated purchase is a vital step, so too is the time spent learning how to prepare tea correctly. For this, Lalani has the shorthand: leaf, dose, temperature, time, decant. “Like with any of your passions, it’s going to take a bit longer,” he explains. “If you want to get a suit made, you can’t walk out with it the same day – you’ve got to wait six to eight weeks but it’s worth it. If you want to get into fine wine, you’re going to need some better glassware, you’re going to need temperature-controlled storage and you’re going to need to invest your time in a bit of knowledge.” He continues: “When you get into chocolate, you can’t buy it for 50 pence a bar, you’ve got to pay £5 to £10 a bar for a craft-made chocolate – another one of my passions – and it’s worth it.  "So, with tea, you can’t brew the bag – excuse my language – in hot water for 10 seconds, but it only takes three to five minutes to do it well – less time than it takes to make a cocktail. But it’s worth it and the rewards are enormous.” We second that. Everything you need to know about purchasing and preparing fine tea Location, location, location: When it comes to buying tea, you need to know where it was grown – particular regions have particular styles. It’s also important to know the producer and the name of the garden. Seasons matter: Tea is grown pretty much all year round. A leaf picked in the premium spring season is going to be better than a leaf picked in the rainy season. As a quick rule of thumb, look for things like first flush, second flush or spring season. It’s usually the early part of the year when you get the better quality. This is true of Japan, Taiwan and India. Vintage picks: Look for the vintage. This will give you some indication if you should be drinking it young and fresh or aged. Some teas, like the first flush season Darjeeling, are best when young and fresh –drink them as quickly as you can. Some teas, like certain white teas or oolongs from Taiwan, are great if aged. If you buy them young, you’d expect to buy them at a young price, but then if they’ve been intentionally aged, then their value – and price – will increase. So you might buy something from 2015 or 2000 or 1998, for example, where you’ll be paying a premium, but it has been aged and likely improved in flavour. Brewing to perfection: A useful shorthand for how to prepare your tea is leaf, dose, temperature, time, decant. It’s important you follow the instructions regarding the volume of leaves and temperature of water the particular tea you have purchased requires (on many modern kettles you can set the temperature, making this element very simple). There should be ample information about this on the packaging. Lalani wholeheartedly recommends purchasing precision scales to ensure you have the precise quantity of leaves every time. Balance scales cost circa £10. Essential kit: While d’Offay says a temperature-controlled kettle isn’t a must to start with, Lalani suggests it’s a worthwhile purchase at approximately £40. Both say you should be mindful with lower-temperature teas and ensure it’s the desired strength and taste. Lalani also thinks a single-pour tea pot is a wise investment. The Alethea, sold at Lalani & Co, is a beautiful and practical single-serving vessel.  Read more Editorial

The fine tea world is a treasure trove of discovery. As beguiling and complex as any wine or spirit, this enchanting liquid steeped in history can be incredibly confusing to master. Holly Motion talks to a handful of fine tea aficionados about why it's well worth investing the time.

Exploring the world of fine tea: beguiling and complex as any wine or spirit, and why it's well worth investing the time