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

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

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

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

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

“I want to struggle,” says Cristiana Tiberio, earnestly, as we talk in London. This Abruzzo winemaker has rapidly become one of Italy’s most fashionable names. Thanks to her hands-off approach in the winery, she’s a darling of the natural wine scene, but is also earning top scores and rave reviews from the likes of Eric Asimov (The New York Times), Antonio Galloni (Vinous) and Ian d’Agata. But, as I found talking to her, she’s far from complacent.  Cristiana fell in love with wine as a teenager. Her father, Riccardo, was friends with Bruno Giacosa and the legendary Piedmontese producer’s wines were her favourites. She noticed early on that wines made with the same grape from different sites tasted totally unlike each other. “Wine was an infinity world,” she tells me, still with a touch of whimsy – and it was a world that she set her heart on exploring. When the time came, she set off to study chemistry at university – looking to the science behind wine rather than more practical oenology. Before she knew it, however, she’d been diverted, ending up with a PhD in photochemistry, far from “the infinity world” she’d committed to. So she quit. Instead, she travelled the world, working with various top producers, including Jacques Selosse, Nicolas Joly, Egon Müller and leading names in Chablis, before returning to Abruzzo in 2004.  In the meantime, her father Riccardo had found a special parcel of land in the mountains near the town of Cugnoli, with an abandoned plot of Trebbiano Abruzzese – the indigenous grape that had largely disappeared from the region. With its large, juicy berries and thin skins, this variety is more susceptible to fungal disease, can be challenging to ripen and lose its bright acidity if not picked at the perfect moment. Trebbiano Toscano (ubiquitous across much of Italy, and in France under the guise of Ugni Blanc) had replaced many plantings – favoured for its small berries, ability to accrue sugar easily and retain its moderate acidity.  This abandoned vineyard had survived largely because of its unique site – with canyons to the south and west, meaning a wind blows through the vines constantly, clearing the humidity and reducing disease risk. It was also planted in the traditional Abruzzese pergola system, with two vines planted at each post, wider (four-by-three-metre) spacing, providing competition but also forcing the branches to grow longer, meaning a larger canopy, aiding photosynthesis and therefore ripening. Now 95 years old, these ungrafted vines had also endured thanks to their fortuitously sandy soils (a neighbouring plot, on marly clay, had to be replanted on rootstock, and is now around 80 years old).  While the Trebbiano Abruzzese was the lure of this site, much of the property Riccardo purchased was unplanted. Today, Tiberio has 30 hectares of vines, all in one contiguous parcel – with additional woodland, as well as alfafa and wheat fields, all part of the family’s championing of biodiversity. And, as much of the area hadn’t been planted, the property hadn’t suffered from industrial farming – meaning the soils were already healthy, however preserving it is at the forefront of what Tiberio does.  The vineyards are divided between Trebbiano Abruzzese, Pecorino and Montepulciano – a fraction of the various grapes permitted in Abruzzo, but – importantly for Cristiana – the ones that were historically native to their mountainous terrain. They only planted with massal selections – something Cristiana feels is key. She argues that clones sourced from vine nurseries are designed to be planted anywhere, sacrificing anything “native” in the name of disease resistance and/or yield. “For me, historical heritage is everything in the wines,” she explains. On a more practical front, she finds that massal selections cope better in difficult vintage conditions, adapting more easily. As evidence, she points to a plot of ungrafted vines that she planted in February of this year (2024), explaining how despite the extremely dry conditions, the vines survived – entirely unirrigated.  While Cristiana clearly values the traditional pergola training, she has chosen to use guyot training for most of their vines. The old vines – largely used for Fonte Canale and Archivio – are under pergola, however she doesn’t feel it’s right for everything. When it comes to Pecorino, she explains how the variety naturally grows vertically, meaning pergola-training would force the vine into an unnatural shape, impact sap flow, and therefore quality. As for Montepulciano, while they have 2.5 hectares (used for Archivio) under pergola, she feels that the pergola system can push the grape’s rustic character – the thin skins with less phenolic ripeness (due to shading) at risk of producing more easily extractable, less refined tannins. For her, guyot elevates the flavour profile of the grape and helps balance the potentially aggressive tannin, avoiding it being too “loud”.   Cristiana’s brother Antonio is in charge in the vineyards, where they work organically. They briefly trialled biodynamics, however have veered away from using the preparations, along with any fertiliser or seeded cover crops – keen to avoid adding any outside inputs that aren’t “respectful of their terroir”, as Cristiana puts it. The winemaking continues this philosophy, with indigenous yeast, almost no new oak across the range (just 30% for the Archivio bottling), the wines unfined and unfiltered, largely avoiding temperature control where possible, and SO2 only added at bottling.  Although organic, they aren’t certified – something she feels strongly about. She explains how both dedicated, small growers and “big, industrial” producers can bear the same certification, while one’s farming is considered and artisanal, yet the other is borderline conventional. It “certifies our attitude and we stay lazy”, she tells me. “We stop struggling with our mind to find what is better for our terroir,” she says – something that she is anxious to avoid, keen to continue striving, pushing and working to do better, rather than tick a box and move on.  And that work is not merely intellectual. Having just finished harvest in Abruzzo before touching down in London, she was soon flying off to Oregon – squeezing in a second northern-hemisphere vintage at a property there. It’s a chance to learn, and few 50-year-olds seem to be quite as restless as this one. While Tiberio is a family venture, it’s not one that was passed through the generations – something for which Cristiana is grateful; she has been able to choose her site, choose the wines she’s making and define her own philosophy – one that is now resonating loud and clear around the world.  The Tiberio range  The regional wines  Trebbiano d’Abruzzo: Tiberio’s entry-level Trebbiano Abruzzese comes from three hectares of 75-year-old pergola-trained vines, those that were grafted 14 years after their oldest (dedicated to Fonte Canale). Only made with free-run juice, it’s fermented and aged in stainless steel.  Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: The vine material for their Pecorino was selected from a few old vines on the site, but comes from a 3.8-hectare plot planted in 2001 and guyot-trained. Only made with free-run juice, it’s fermented and aged in stainless steel. These are some of the oldest Pecorino vines in the region and the wine is unlike the modest Pecorino you may have previously tasted – ageing impressively.  Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: This rosato is very special. It comes from nine hectares of Montepulciano, planted in 2001 and Guyot-trained. Made with free-run juice (with no maceration whatsoever) and only seeing stainless steel, it’s a perfumed and bright style of rosé that can and should age.  Montepulciano d’Abruzzo: This is the largest production cuvée, coming from 15 hectares of Montepulciano – both older pergola-trained vines (62-year-old) and younger Guyot (planted in 2001). As with the other entry-level wines, it only sees stainless steel, spending 15 days on skins.  Single-vineyard bottlings  Fonte Canale: Arguably Tiberio’s most sought-after wine, Fonte Canale is pure Trebbiano Abruzzese from 736 ungrafted, 95-year-old vines, spread across around two hectares of sandy soils. (They currently aren’t replanting the individual vines when they die, as don’t want to plant grafted stock, but are cautious of fragile young ungrafted vines attracting phylloxera.) It was first made in 2012, with these ungrafted vines needing time to recover from their previous neglect. The combination of site and variety produces wines with modest alcohols (often 12-12.5%) and naturally low pH (the 2018 is a mere 2.7pH!), giving a backbone of taut acidity (as Tiberio says – “not raw, but flavourful acid”). The site’s indigenous yeast produces a cool ferment (reaching maximum 23̊C) and a wine that doesn’t need racking post ferment, with little reduction. The malolactic is naturally blocked by the low pH and the wine only sees stainless steel – “to allow this wine to express its meaning”, Cristiana says. This stunning, vibrant white is a pure expression of a special site – one that ages beautifully, with its old vines almost overpowering vintage. If any further praise were needed for this wine, it has featured on the list at Massimo Bottura’s Osteria Francescana since its first release.  Colle Vota: First bottled separately in 2014, this vineyard is always the last to be picked. Planted in 2000 with massal selections from their old Montepulciano and guyot-trained, Tiberio finds the berries have thicker skins but release less during maceration (around 20 days). She also finds the tannins in the stems different here so is using a small portion of whole-bunch fermentation in the blend. Again with only free-run juice, the wine doesn’t see any oak whatsoever. Coming in a Burgundy-shaped bottle, this is the lighter of Tiberio’s two Montepulciano bottlings, but still with a firm tannic backbone, but with more delicate perfume.  Archivio: Launched in 2017, Archivio comes from the property’s 60-year-old pergola-trained Montepulciano on clay-rich soils, where the wind helps thicken the skins. Tiberio finds that the fruit has thinner skins from the middle of the pergola system, so these bunches are harvested separately. With thinner skins, the ferment has more lees and more reduction, needing oxygenation, so this is the 30% that goes into new oak to give it the necessary air. The bolder and firmer of the two Montepulciano bottlings, it is bottled in a Bordeaux-style bottle to indicate its ageing capacity – a wine that Tiberio confesses can be “monolithic” in youth, but offers great potential.  And coming soon… Quarmarì: A new single-vineyard Pecorino from 2023, this wine takes its name from the family dog, who passed away a few years ago. The wine has – so far – only been tasted by Ian d’Agata, who wrote that it is “a wine so amazingly good and unique that it will shatter all you thought you knew about the grape and what it can deliver”. Given how good even the entry-level Pecorino is, we can’t wait to try this.  The vertical tasting Pecorino  2006 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: It’s hard to believe this is close to two decades old – the wine vibrant, lively and juicy with lean lemon freshness to the palate. There’s a suppleness to the body, yet it’s taut and mineral, and more honeyed and herbal notes emerging with air.  2009 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: The 2009 Pecorino is instantly open, giving sage, thyme and honey on the nose, alongside fresh white peach. On the palate, however, it shows its restraint – still fulsome but with a mineral backbone that makes it feel youthful.  2013 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: Leesy and mineral, this is almost reminiscent of mature Chablis or Blanc de Blancs Champagne – with a honeyed, chamomile edge. The palate is waxy and long, with a herbal lift to the finish.  2015 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: There remains a creaminess to the nose here – the wine tighter than the 2013, with a limey, lean purity and plenty of energy.  2019 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: This is strikingly different after the 2015 – much riper and more exotic, with apricot, peach, mango and orange peel. Combined with the wine’s viscosity, there’s something Viognier-like, however there’s still brilliant, mineral energy here, with tight, citrus-edged acidity.  Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo  2022 Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: It will be amazing to see this wine develop. The nose is restrained – you can feel the potential behind. Gradually wild strawberry and bright raspberry emerge, alongside delicate rose petal florals. It’s tightly wound with immense energy to the flinty palate, a minerality driving through its core into the long, mouthwatering blood-orange finish.  2020 Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: Deeper-coloured than the 2018, the 2020 has a brighter nose – with raspberry sherbet, strawberry laces and a creamy richness. The acidity again is in the driving seat, the palate chalky and mineral with lemon freshness and a slight phenolic grip that frames the crunchy red fruit.  2018 Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: A surprisingly deep pink (especially given this is made only with free-run juice), with a copper hue. This was a real highlight of the tasting. The nose combines a flinty minerality with a funky, savoury, almost cheesy note, alongside dried cherry and rose florals. The palate has a line of bright acidity and a mouthwatering lemon finish. Very serious rosé that deserves bottle age.  Fonte Canale  2021 Fonte Canale: From a very dry growing season, this is such a baby. The nose is mineral with notes of pear skin, white florals, lime pith and cordial, with riper apricot emerging. It’s vibrant and full of tight, lemony acid, driving on to the chalky finish. Precise and pointed, there’s crisp apple and herbal freshness, with a saline edge.  2020 Fonte Canale: At first with a touch of gunflint reduction, the smokiness gradually lifts to reveal a tight and lean expression of Trebbiano d’Abruzzese – all citrus and mineral, needing time and air to reveal itself fully.  2019 Fonte Canale: The nose here combines vibrant green apple, greengage and lemon with a sea-spray freshness. It’s still limey and tight on the palate, but with a soft, full weight too – with generous yet tangy, white-pear fruit on the mid-palate, before tightening up on the saline, mineral finish.  2018 Fonte Canale: Dried herbs mingle on the nose with more hedonistic fruit – peach and green mango,, with real weight to the fruit here. There’s still the bite of piercing lemon acidity, surrounded by fleshier peach fruit.  2017 Fonte Canale: This feels much more closed in comparison to the 2018, with pure citrus energy, tangy, pure and limey, but with a slight creaminess mingling with the tart fruit. It’s concentrated and full of promise, but not giving much away now.  2016 Fonte Canale: Waxy and bright, the 2016 is full of energy. Pure flint, Meyer lemon and grapefruit pith, with more delicate white florals all vie for attention, while the palate is all about pure crunchy apple, minerals and its vibrant acidity.   2015 Fonte Canale: The nose here is complex – with notes of honey, chamomile, tarragon, bruised apple and a praline richness. The palate, meanwhile, feels brilliantly youthful, with lime sherbet and chalky minerality driving long into the mouthwatering finish.  2014 Fonte Canale: This was closed at first, with subtle floral tones of apple blossom and honeysuckle dancing on a background of lemon and pear flesh. The palate has that familiar drive of acidity leading into the impressively long, saline finish.  2013 Fonte Canale: Fresh cashew mingles with lemon sherbet on the subtle nose of the 2013, a wine with lift and energy. The palate is lively and long, with the finish offering honey, herbal notes and sweet hay.  2012 Fonte Canale: The first ever vintage of Fonte Canale, it was a real treat to try this special wine. The nose combines rosemary and thyme with candied lemon peel, as well as more honeyed notes. The palate is lithe and vibrant still, with a stony purity and saline finish.   Colle Vota  2020 Colle Vota: This combines juicy dark fruit, sweet spice, baked plum and violet florals. Rich black and red cherry fills the palate, with an edge of dried herbs and the scent of nutmeg. The tannins are savoury and firm, with a chalky freshness and zesty edge to the acidity.  2019 Colle Vota: The 2019 offers floral lift, with brighter cherry and raspberry fruit. Less savoury than the 2020, the palate is tight and mineral, yet with a softness to the mouth-filling fruit, all cut by juicy acidity.  2018 Colle Vota: This is drastically different to the 2019, offering an aromatic profile of baked strawberry and tea leaf – almost lapsang souchong. The chalky minerality stands out here, with high, piercing acidity giving the wine backbone.  2014 Colle Vota: There’s a significant colour change moving from the 2018 to the 2014 Colle Vota, while the nose reinforces this shift with leather and damp undergrowth sitting alongside dried red fruit. The tannins have softened and are supple, while the acidity still refreshes and cuts through the fruit.  Archivio  2020 Archivio: Savoury and rich, this is a powerful, dark, compact Montepulciano d’Abruzzo that needs time. It is intense and structured, full of tight bramble fruit and drying tannins, but with an impressive line of acidity at its core.  2019 Archivio: This is much more open than the 2020, with a sweeter, more red-fruited profile, and more overt sweet spice. Dried herbs and incense complement the bramble fruit. There’s a firm chalky grip to the tannins, tightening up as the structure announces itself on the palate, yet with mouthwatering acid keeping things balanced.  2018 Archivio: The sweet, baked red fruit of the vintage seems to carry through both of the reds in 2018. There’s a softness to the fruit, yet still power behind. It’s full-bodied and firm, yet the most approachable of the trio of 2018, 2019 and 2020, with fresh, juicy acidity.  2017 Archivio: There’s a touch of maturity just starting to show here, with the first hint of sousbois and leathery richness, an almost tarry character, sitting alongside the sweet plum, baked blackberry and smoke. The tannic framework stands strong, even seven years on, needing additional bottle age to round out.  Explore all current Tiberio listings or read more about Italy 

Few names in Abruzzo have become as sought-after as Tiberio, best known for her single-vineyard Fonte Canale, Colle Vota and Archivio bottlings. We sat down with Cristiana Tiberio herself to talk about the project – and taste through a vertical of these extraordinary, category-defying wines

Sitting down with Cristiana Tiberio, cult Abruzzo winemaker, and tasting a vertical of Fonte Canale, Colle Vota, Archivio wines

Cristiana Tiberio – advancing Abruzzo

Advancing Abruzzo: Tiberio

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

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

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

Talking to the Wine Advocate’s William Kelley

Advocating for change: William Kelley

This year sees the release of the 20th vintage of Cheval des Andes – Cheval Blanc’s operation in Mendoza. Since the team from the legendary Saint-Emilion estate embarked on the venture with Terrazas de los Andes, 25 years ago, much has changed – and this is the start of a new era for the property. What was once a working concept has taken root.  “This is the beginning of our adult life,” says Technical Director Pierre-Olivier Clouet. “We have a real identity today.” It’s taken a quarter-century for the property to shake off the uncertainty of youth and find firm footing – something that hasn’t necessarily been easy.  “We made mistakes,” Clouet confesses. Not having a historic reputation to rely on, the team at Cheval des Andes had sought out high scores, chasing points to prove their worth. But, in a still Parker-dominant era, that meant making wines with “ripe grapes, a lot of extraction, a high level of alcohol – you [had] to show the muscle to explain that you are a great wine”, explains Clouet. “For a long time, the recipe was in the cellar; nobody cared where the vines were.” Now, however, that’s all changed.  From 2011, the team started shifting focus to the vineyard, working more closely with their French counterparts and vice-versa. The arrival of Lorenzo Pasquini (now the man at the helm of Ch. d’Yquem) in 2015 was key to the transition, as Cheval des Andes started to focus on a shared vision of fine wine – one that is about freshness, balance and ageing potential, and one that defines Cheval Blanc.  Only with a few wrong turns, however, can you be sure you’re on the right path – and Clouet is clear that those first 16 years, figuring out what Cheval des Andes should and could be, has been “super important” in helping them build “something with real sincerity, real authenticity”. Most importantly, Cheval des Andes is not intended to be, nor is a copy of Cheval Blanc: “It is, in our mind, absolutely an Argentine wine,” says Clouet.  The original 31-hectare vineyard is in Las Compuertas in Luján de Cuyo, a subregion of Mendoza. It is on these clay-dominant soils at around 1,000 metres’ altitude that Pierre Lurton discovered a plot of ungrafted Malbec in 1998. Planted in 1929, the vine material pre-dates phylloxera, descended from a selection imported to Argentina in 1852 – back when the grape dominated Bordeaux. This selection is key to the DNA of Cheval des Andes and, along with the huge diurnal shift, produces Malbec that is fresh, precise, perfumed and delicately structured. For Clouet, the “true” Malbec is closer to Pinot Noir in style – more floral than fruit-led, vibrant and even ethereal.  In 2001, the team purchased an additional parcel in La Consulta in the Uco Valley, at higher altitude and with more gravel-driven soils, a cooler site that has an even more significant diurnal swing in temperature. While they once might have used only a fraction of the estate to produce the flagship wine, they have moved to using as much as they can – to create a pure expression of the entire property, declassifying only plots that don’t fit in the blend or meet their stringent quality standards.  All 50 hectares are farmed with the same philosophy as their vines in Saint-Emilion – employing extensive cover crops, trees scattered throughout the vineyard, and with the same incredible attention to detail and focus on sustainability. “We work with the same vision and the same conviction,” says Clouet. One key difference, of course, is that irrigation is essential in this part of Argentina – but, here again, they’ve changed tack over the last decade or so. Rather than traditional modern drip irrigation where necessary water would be eked out drop by drop over the season as needed (“too artificial”, Clouet tells me), they irrigate extensively over the winter to ensure the soils are replenished fully between seasons (as well as help protect ungrafted vines against phylloxera), then – on a plot by plot basis – when the vines are starting to suffer, they give the vines around 40mm of water (still via drip irrigation), over 24-48 hours, replicating a day or two of steady rainfall.  They’ve reduced the height of the canopy (the engine of the vine for sugar production), while using trees, cover crops and minimal leaf-pulling to avoid sunburn. They’ve started pruning each vine according to its vigour, and are now picking significantly earlier – as much as two months earlier than 15 years ago. With this detail in the vineyard, the challenge is simply to guide the fruit through the winery: “No mistakes is enough in the cellar,” says Clouet.  In some ways, the wine echoes Cheval Blanc. While the Saint-Emilion property blends Cabernet Franc and Merlot, Cheval des Andes focuses on Malbec and Cabernet Sauvignon – the Malbec bringing freshness and silkiness that complements the backbone of powerful Cabernet. And the Cheval Blanc style, one of restraint and precision, shines through in recent vintages of the wine – and especially the soon-to-be-released 2021. As Clouet tells me, “Our vision is absolutely delicacy, freshness, balance, ageing potential, complexity.” Unlike Cheval Blanc, however, which needs 10 years in bottle to start even hinting at its potential, Cheval des Andes offers an immediacy – something that Clouet is clear doesn’t inhibit its ability to last; the 2021, for example, can be drunk now, but will evolve over the next 25 years at least, he tells me.  Even the association with the Cheval Blanc name doesn’t make Cheval des Andes an easy sell to fine wine lovers; but that, says Clouet, is part of what makes it fun – a challenge for the team to be pushed. Even better, his team gets the chance to learn and make wine not just once a year, but twice, as well as gaining additional insight on how Cheval Blanc might adapt to climate change. But Cheval des Andes isn’t just an intellectual exercise (that is merely an added bonus), Clouet firmly believes in the potential of this site – something they’re now finally beginning to realise. Browse all current Cheval des Andes listings or read more Editorial 

For 25 years, Cheval Blanc – one of Saint-Emilion’s leading names – has been crafting wine in Argentina. We sat down with Pierre-Olivier Clouet to find out more about the project today, and why the 2021 vintage is the most exciting to date

Technical Director Pierre-Olivier Clouet on the start of a new chapter at Cheval des Andes, the Argentinian wine project from Saint-Emilion’s Cheval Blanc

Turning the page at Cheval des Andes

I’m sitting opposite Rino Fontana, an Italian wine collector that Antonio Galloni named his Wine Personality of the Year in 2023. Fontana looks unassuming – like any other septuagenarian that you might find, cigarette in hand, knocking back an espresso in a sunny piazza. Sunglasses hang on a string around his neck, and occasionally he rifles through scraps of paper that seem to operate as a calendar and/or journal. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was perhaps someone a little more, well, suave. Fontana has been collecting wine since the 1980s and is renowned for his cellar, a treasure trove of remarkable vintages from Piedmont’s top producers. Indeed, Galloni has dubbed him “Il Professore” for his extensive knowledge of Italian wine – despite never having worked in the industry. As Fontana scrolls through pictures on his phone, recalling recent dinners, he rolls off names and vintages that would leave any wine-lover speechless. He grew up in the Oltrepò Pavese, where his father was a stonemason, but would buy grapes and make a little wine for the family. Fontana was sent to school in Valenza, a town known for its gold industry – and he started working in a gold factory in his late teens. Aged 24, he and his best friend opened their own jewellery workshop. It was the owner of a local restaurant in nearby Mortara who introduced Fontana to the real pleasures of wine, and a bottle of Conterno’s Monfortino that made him fall head over heels for Nebbiolo – the 1958 vintage, in fact. Since that first taste, he’s opened over 150 bottles (yes, really) of the 1958 Monfortino. It was that wine that prompted Fontana to start visiting producers – an adventure in self-education. At the time, people weren’t buying wine, and Italy’s winemakers were far from fashionable. He became friends with the likes of Giuseppe Rinaldi, Bruno Giacosa and Gianfranco Soldera, rapidly securing significant allocations of their wines when few others were showing interest. Producers, in turn, suggested he had a gift – unique in his ability to understand wines in barrel and foretell their future. Today, he covers around 80,000km a year visiting producers – but the vast majority of that mileage is in Piedmont, for Fontana drinks – and collects – little other than Nebbiolo. This one grape represents around 95% of his consumption, he says, with Barolo and/or Barbaresco on the menu every day. He always has the latest releases on hand in the fridge – even some basic Langhe Nebbiolo, but at least twice a week he’ll uncork something special from the 1960s or ’80s with wine-loving friends or producers. While Nebbiolo is one of many grapes to be declared “the king of wines”, for Fontana it really does reign supreme. When I ask why, marvelling at how he could drink so much of just one variety, he shrugs: “Nebbiolo is Nebbiolo.” When I push him, he says he loves its ageability, structure and elegance – something he feels you can’t find in Pinot Noir. He recalls a recent dinner with Galloni at Il Centro in Priocca, sharing a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti’s 2004 La Tâche alongside a 1947 Borgogno Barolo and 1989 Vigna Rionda from Giacosa. Both the Barolos, he says, grew over the dinner – while the La Tâche faded slowly. For him, Burgundy (even the world’s most sought-after bottles) is no match for Nebbiolo. That’s a controversial opinion – but Fontana is not a man short of views. He dismisses the wines of Cappellano and Accomasso, while he has firm beliefs on how Nebbiolo should be made, favouring traditional winemaking with old oak – not wanting to feel the wood in the wine. He argues that too many young producers are going to Burgundy and trying to echo that style in their wines, losing their Piedmontese identity. The resulting wines are, he feels, too technical, too clean. “Great wine can’t be perfect,” he says – suggesting that those imperfections are partly what makes wine feel alive. While the most established and famous producers dominate his collection, he also likes the wines from newer names such as Trediberri, Crissante and Cascina Baricchi. Beyond Nebbiolo, he’ll dabble in certain labels of Sangiovese – Soldera, for example will pass muster, as well as SanCarlo (a producer he feels rivals the former). Montevertine’s Le Pergole Torte would previously have been a prime choice, but now he’d choose Le Boncie’s Le Trame instead. He likes Valentini and Emidio Pepe, and used to buy Gravner but feels the style changed in 2004 so stopped. He sold his jewellery business in 2000 – dedicating his time entirely to wine – visiting producers, building his collection and selling to select parties (of which FINE+RARE is lucky enough to be one). Fontana has around 9,000 bottles in his collection today. He shows us a video of his cellar – intriguingly with many of the wines stored upright. Anything post 1990 is kept on its side, but older wines stand proud in his cellar – something which he argues is better once they reach a certain age, with the cork and humidity of the cellar more important in their preservation. It’s a remarkable collection, with incredible verticals of many wines. His access seems unparalleled – receiving larger allocations than many importers, given his historical ties. He is the only individual, for example, to receive an allocation of Rinaldi’s Brunate Cru – a wine that is otherwise kept exclusively for the family. Some of his most prized bottles are Giacosa’s 1964 Santo Stefano and magnums of 1970 Monfortino (“amazing” – he says), while he has a soft spot for the youthful 2015 Soldera. Now aged 73, Fontana seems just as enchanted by wine as when he first tasted that 1958 Monfortino. I ask him if there’s a wine he is still desperate to taste, a unicorn that he’s still hunting: the answer is no. He’s been able to try every vintage from the producers he loves. It’s a rare answer for a wine lover – but “Il Professore” isn’t your average wine collector. – Photography of Rino Fontana at Il Centro by Dan Deibel Explore a selection of top verticals from Fontana’s cellar, all Italian listings or read more Editorial

Friends with Vinous founder and critic Antonio Galloni, and with a cellar that will turn you green with envy, Rino Fontana is Italy’s most famous wine collector. We sat down with the man himself to find out more about his journey into wine, incredible collection and obsession with one grape  

Antonio Galloni’s Wine Personality of the Year 2023, Rino Fontana is Italy’s most famous wine collector – we met the man to talk about his cellar

Rino Fontana – the wine collector like no other

Rino Fontana: a collector like no other

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

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

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

Championing Chile – Eduardo Chadwick

Championing Chile: Eduardo Chadwick

Inspiration often strikes at unexpected moments. For Salvino Benanti, owner of the eponymous winery, it was late at night in his office at a London investment bank, when he overheard his boss on a phone call, apologising to his wife for not being home. “I heard him say, ‘Imagine one day, if this all works out, we’ll retire and move to the Mediterranean.’” Salvino recalls this moment, which became a turning point in his life: “I suddenly thought, well I could do that tomorrow.”   Salvino’s late father was Dr Giuseppe Benanti, a former pharmaceutical company owner, who himself also once pivoted mid-career to return to his small Sicilian hometown to make wine and is today widely credited with launching a winemaking renaissance in Etna that has propelled the tiny region from relative anonymity to international recognition and acclaim.  Although wine has been produced across Sicily for centuries, the area around Mount Etna where the Benanti family is from had fallen into obscurity by the 19th century, with many poorly maintained or abandoned vineyards and virtually no commercial wine production. In the early 1980s, however, Giuseppe embarked upon a decade-long research project, where he methodically studied the soil types, local indigenous grapes and microclimates. In a very short time, he came to realise the potential of his birthplace. Giuseppe hired a local oenologist named Salvo Foti in 1988, and the two joined forces to make wine. He found in Foti an equal level of passion, drive and belief in the potential of Etna. Together they crafted the first release of Benanti wine from the Etna DOC in 1990, neither likely realising that they had sparked the resurgence of a neglected wine region.  
Shaped like a backwards crescent, the DOC of Etna is anchored of course by Mount Etna, an active stratovolcano that rises nearly 11,000 feet above sea-level. Mount Etna towers over the eastern side of Sicily, breaking the skyline in dramatic fashion and creating a wine region that is distinct not only within Sicily, but the wine world at large.  Generations of eruptions have altered the soil content, creating a patchwork of soil types around the peak. The high elevation provides respite from the hot climate of lower-lying Sicily, and the vineyards on the north side are protected from the hot Sirocco wind blowing from the south. Mount Etna remains one of the world’s most active volcanoes, with eruptions, ash clouds and lava flows nearly every year, albeit very slowly and in a predictable direction, away from villages and vineyards.   Only a few decades ago, the most well-known grape in Sicily was Nero d’Avola. Often made in an accessible, full-bodied and bold style, Nero d’Avola was easy to grow, and easy to love. Frequently blended with international varieties to add colour and weight, it quickly became an international hit. Many assume the southerly latitude relegates Sicily to only wines like Nero d’Avola – dark and dense. Mount Etna tosses this logic out the window, however.   The rocky, steep vineyards of Etna have always been planted mainly to three indigenous varieties: the red grapes Nerello Mascalese and Nerello Cappuccio, and the white grape Carricante. Nerello Mascalese produces wines that are light in colour, with elevated tannins providing ample structure. The wines can be ethereal, and much like Nebbiolo and Pinot Noir, have a remarkable transparency that allows the specific location to imbue itself into the wine, with even neighbouring plots expressing themselves quite differently. With sour cherry and wild red plum notes, as well as faint tobacco, someone tasting Nerello Mascalese blind for the first time might be excused for thinking the wine was perhaps a gentler style of Nebbiolo, or alternatively a more grippy, savoury style of Pinot Noir. In many ways the variety captures the best of both. Yet, until recently, Nerello Mascalese was obscure. “It was considered to be a bulk wine. People didn’t know it that well, so we weren’t noticed at first,” Salvino explains.   Nerello Cappuccio, with its darker colour and softer tannins, has often been used as a blending partner for Nerello Mascalese, making it more approachable, though for many producers, it has fallen out of fashion as Nerello Mascalese ascends the ladder of critical opinion. Carricante, on the other hand, is a high-acid grape, with intense minerality and a slightly saline character. Described by Ian d’Agata as “potentially one of Italy’s greatest cultivars, white or red”, Carricante can thrive at high elevations and develops fascinating, almost Riesling-like petrol aromas with age.  While some viticultural generalities are true across the region – trace elements such as iron and phosphorous are uniformly high across the DOC, for example – the soils are surprisingly varied between contradas (a delineated local municipality of sorts, often borrowed by winemakers in Etna to signify which part of the DOC their wine hails from), of which there are 142. Even a change of a few hundred feet in elevation can mean a difference in depth of soil as well as soil structure.  Although to outsiders, living next door to an active volcano might seem to be a risky proposition, Salvino, like most Sicilians, doesn’t seem to be overly concerned.  The ash that often floats down from the volcano is not necessarily a bad thing, he explains, unlike the ash from wildfires. While ash from burnt wood and vegetation is highly acrid and easily taints wine with a bitter aftertaste, volcanic ash, on the other hand, is odourless and tasteless. When it falls in Etna, it hardens into flakes of pumice, Salvino explains, which crunch underfoot like breakfast cereal, but soon break down into a much finer, sandy texture, as it becomes part of the soil and terroir.  After 25 years at the helm of his winery, Giuseppe passed the torch to Salvino and his twin brother Antonio in 2012, giving them full ownership. The brothers, in many ways, led parallel lives. Born in Sicily, the two were educated abroad, and both worked as bankers in London. And, most fortunately, both were of a similar mindset when it came to the family winery. Having felt they had achieved enough in their careers, Salvino and Antonio came to a mutual decision to move back to Sicily – the lightbulb moment Salvino experienced in his office was a sentiment shared by his brother.   By the time they took over, Etna was fully on the radar of wine enthusiasts around the world, who were intrigued by the prospect of mineral-driven wines made on the side of an active volcano. The beginning was not easy, however, Salvino says, as their father was forced to step back and let his sons build their own path together. “We had a lot of confrontation and debate. My father was stubborn, and wouldn’t listen to anyone, but we had the final word. He became a loud advisor with no power,” Salvino laughingly remembers. They made tough decisions, including selling off a few vineyards and reducing the number of wines produced. “We were a bit ruthless,” he admits.  Today, the brothers act as co-general managers, overseeing the production of 250,000 bottles of wine per year, all made from the three indigenous varieties, coming from five distinct contradas in the DOC. Their white wines are made from 100% Carricante, vinified in stainless steel and never aged in oak, while the red wines are either mono-varietal, or comprised of Nerello Mascalese blended with a small amount of Nerello Cappuccio. They avoid new oak in the winery, choosing instead to age in neutral vessels where “the elegance expresses itself quite freely”, Salvino explains.  When people think of Sicily, they think of opulence, richness and power. “This is not correct,” Salvino emphasises. Though only 5% of Sicily’s wine production comes from Etna, the wines could not be more different than the rest of the island – and southern Italy for that matter. “We are about elegance, leanness, and cellar-worthiness,” he explains.  Salvino elaborates on the distinct shift in style since he and his brother assumed control. He explains that in the early days of the winery, more oak was employed and the wines were more forward. “In the 1980s, no one knew or cared about Etna, so I think my father was trying to capture the world’s attention, maybe trying to connect with Nero d’Avola drinkers.” When Salvino and Antonio took over, however, they were open-minded and “free from prejudice”: “We didn’t have a pre-formed view of anything,” he says. This allowed them to examine the wines with fresh eyes, and rather than try to emulate another region or variety’s style, they made the decision to allow the grapes and soil of Etna to speak for themselves. “We realised that what the world wanted from Etna was more pureness.” And this is something they continue to strive for. “We would like more purity, more elegance, more finesse, always,” Salvino emphasises.    In less than 40 years, the spark that Giueseppe Benanti provided ignited a revolution, one that his sons – along with a host of other winegrowers and winemakers on the island – carry on today.  Salvino feels that there is now a clear Etna identity, supported by many up-and-coming younger producers. From only a few decades ago, when his father was introducing the wines of Etna to the world, there are now over 440 producers within the Etna DOC. The appellation, however, remains a niche even within Italy, producing only 5.8 million bottles per year, making it smaller than Barolo.   And this next generation of winemakers continues to push forward. The producers in Etna recently voted unanimously to apply for DOCG status, a process which can take up to 24 months to get approval, though it seems inevitable given their region’s sharp upward trajectory. Some rules will become more stringent, such as lower mandated yields and longer ageing requirements – as Salvino puts it, “We will be forced to go down a more difficult route” – but ultimately this will only help to continue to uplift the quality of the wines and their reputation. 

The delicate, smoky and saline wines of Etna have rapidly become some of Italy’s most famous – but the region’s renaissance is recent. Rachael Ryan – Senior Buyer at Vinfolio, our US arm – sat down with Salvino Benanti, whose father was one of Etna’s pioneers

Etna’s wines have rapidly become some of Italy’s most famous – but the region’s renaissance is recent. We sat down with Benanti, one of Etna’s vinous pioneers

Establishing Etna – Benanti’s pioneering wines

Establishing Etna: Benanti

I vividly remember the first time I tasted the Alvina Pernot wines. Burgundy was bitingly cold, and we ducked beneath Alvina Pernot and her husband Philippe Abadie’s home into their make-shift cellar, then delightfully cosy (at the time warmed just enough to encourage malolactic fermentation), and a welcome retreat from the Côte d’Or’s bracing winter weather. We squeezed into the tiny cellar, edging between the barrels crammed into the space. The wines were thrilling. Taut and pure styles of modern, pinpoint, mineral Chardonnay that were – and are – hard to resist. We were tasting the 2019s, just the second vintage from the modest operation; but they’ve rapidly established themselves as one of the Côte de Beaune’s most exciting new names. Alvina – always chic, dressed immaculately, with her gleaming green eyes and delicate features – doesn’t look like the stereotypical Burgundian vigneron. You're unlikely to spy dirt under her fingernails, and I struggle to imagine her sporting a pair of overalls. But wine is in her blood. The Pernot name is one that will be familiar to Burgundy-lovers – the family is one of the largest vineyard owners in Puligny-Montrachet (just after Leflaive), and makes some of the village’s best wines. Indeed, Alvina worked for the family estate Domaine Paul Pernot for years, but the urge to break out on her own grew over time. The Paul Pernot wines are the epitome of traditional white Burgundy, round, rich and sometimes sumptuous – and Alvina and Philippe wanted to make something of their own, a leaner style that suited their palates better. In 2017, a vineyard came up for sale – and it seemed like a sign. The plot, La Rue aux Vaches, is classified as village Puligny-Montrachet, but sits just below Premier Cru Clos des Meix and Les Pucelles. The family domaine had been farming and making wine from the site for years, and the couple knew how good the fruit was. They leapt at the chance to buy it, and the Alvina Pernot project was born. They were able to buy additional fruit from Alvina’s family, and started working on sourcing grapes from other Crus. Their first release, from the 2018 vintage, totalled 8,000 bottles. It's easy to see how challenging it might have been – going from working for the family business to setting up a separate project, and bearing the weight of their legacy. Alvina and her father have very different approaches in both the vineyard and winery, which certainly comes with its challenges, as they find the fine line between family and business, negotiating a new aspect to their relationship. “I think Alvina’s father was proud that she was starting something of her own,” Philippe says, looking affectionately at his wife. Indeed, it’s taken time for Alvina to fully step away from the family business, only officially resigning in March of this year to focus on their own label. Juggling the two estates (not to mention their son Pâris, who was born at the start of 2022) hasn’t been easy, and Philippe has – until now – had to do much of the work in the winery. Yet it’s also their family ties that have given them access to such incredible vineyards – appellations that are almost impossible to secure for most newcomers.  Five vintages in, it’s amazing to see how the project has evolved. They now produce 35,000 bottles, with the range having grown from seven to 24 cuvées. The duo are so embedded in the region and well-connected that they are able to source from some of the region’s best names, securing top sites that would be the envy of most estates. In addition to La Rue aux Vaches, they now own two further plots (both of which previously belonged to Alvina’s family): Les Noyers Brets (which is next to the couple’s home, added from 2020) and La Rue de Bois (the latter the vines that surround their winery, added in 2021). The focus is increasingly on specific sites within Puligny-Montrachet, with an ever-increasing number of Premiers and Grands Crus. In 2022, for example, they bottled three different wines from Folatières – Ez Folatières, Peux Bois and Clos des Folatières; and their Bourgogne Blanc has been divided into two different bottlings from different sites. Until 2021 the wines were made at Domaine Paul Pernot (and aged under Alvina and Philippe’s house) but the couple have now finished their own winery – giving them greater capacity, but also even greater control over the wines they’re making. From better temperature control and a broader range of maturation vessels (including both glass and amphorae, alongside oak) to reducing sulphur levels and more control over bottling, it’s allowed for even more precision. Each year, they tell me, they are pushing and doing “des petits tests”, looking to tweak and see how they can improve.  Alvina and Philippe firmly believe that almost all the work has to be done in the vineyard, with farming the three plots they own a huge part of what they do. Philippe has been doing it almost entirely himself – and is relieved that they’ve just been able to hire someone to help them. But the significance of the vineyards work is also why it is so important for them to source fruit carefully from growers with similar standards, and whom they trust. As with any small producer, the challenge when it comes to farming is not just quality, but quantity. Alvina and Philippe do almost everything by hand (indeed, they don’t even own a tractor yet – and still borrow Alvina’s father’s one when they can), and sustainability is a key focus. After pruning, it’s common in Burgundy to see the horizon dotted with smoking fires, as the cuttings are burnt; Philippe and Alvina avoid this and the resulting pollution, instead using the cuttings for a mulch to further increase the organic matter in their soils. They aren’t looking to be certified organic, but avoid chemical sprays wherever possible and are doing trials with biodynamics; the risks, and costs, are the threat, however. They can’t afford to lose an entire crop, as would have happened in a vintage like 2021, should they have refused to use anything but copper and sulphur; nor do they want to have to sell their wine for five times as much as they currently do, to allow such a philosophy. Ideals can only take you so far. While 75% of the job might be done by the time the fruit is harvested, it’s all too easy – even with the very best fruit – to ruin it all in the winery. “There’s nothing minor during vinification – everything matters,” Alvina explains. “Each tiny detail makes the difference between an average wine, a good wine and an excellent one.” Although between them the duo had plenty of experience, nothing is set in stone, and each year they feel they are learning more – as they continue to question what they do and why. “It’s also important not to be too wrapped up in our little cocoon, just the two of us, but to talk honestly each year with our expert oenologist [Pierre Fonteneau] about the wines,” Philippe explains, when it comes to the winemaking. “There are three voices in the business – Alvina, me and the oenologist – and not one counts less than the others.” It’s easy to imagine that any Burgundy producer’s goal is to be a domaine – to own a prime selection of the region’s most prized sites; but for this young couple, that’s not really the aim. Alvina is set to inherit some enviable plots, but they can’t imagine giving up the opportunity to continue working with many different parcels. “The diversity of terroirs is absolutely the most interesting part for us,” they say. It’s likely their range will continue to shift – as they get access to new, exciting parcels and discover those they really love. Ultimately, however, Alvina explains, “The aim is to make wines we love, the wines we want to drink. When people are happy to be there, to share the wines with us, and to find them, we’ve done what we set out to do.” Explore all current listings from Alvina Pernot or read more about Burgundy

We’ve been following Alvina Pernot – granddaughter of Paul Pernot – since she first struck out on her own. Sophie Thorpe sat down with Alvina and her husband Philippe Abadie to talk about the wines, their philosophy and the future

As Philippe Abadie and Alvina Pernot release their fifth vintage, we look at how this fledgling wine estate in Burgundy’s Puligny-Montrachet is evolving

Santa Ynez Valley

Please wait