We normally taste Ch. Berliquet at Canon during en primeur, and with a tightly packed schedule there’s never enough time to visit both properties. This year, however, an extended trip allowed us to visit once most of the trade had left the region. On the sunny Monday after the week of en primeur, we arrived at Canon as normal – but, instead of disappearing into a tasting room, hopped onto some of the property’s iconic bikes (which are genuinely used by staff to travel between the two estates), and pedalled across the vineyards to Berliquet – a property that the Chanel team has quietly been transforming.  Ch. Berliquet is one of the oldest estates in Saint-Emilion, with roots dating back to the 1760s. The first known owner was Jean de Sèze, a contemporary of Jacques Kanon (the founder of Ch. Canon). This single plot of vines on the slopes of Saint-Emilion’s limestone plateau has remained unchanged for over 150 years. Southwest of the town, nestled between Ch. Bélair-Monange and Ch. Angélus, it offers much more than meets the eye. The wines were vinified by a local co-operative as recently as the late 1970s and the property only achieved Grand Cru Classé status in 1986. When Chanel acquired the property in July 2017, you would be forgiven for thinking that fruit from Berliquet would go into its more illustrious neighbour, Ch. Canon (which Chanel has owned since 1996); but that wasn’t what they had in mind.   “At the beginning, we took our time with Berliquet. To start with, we had to focus on ourselves,” Axelle Araud, the estate’s Wine Development Director, told me at a recent vertical tasting. The team credits the estate’s progression in part to a better understanding of their surroundings. Not long after their acquisition, the team carried out an extensive soil study which revealed that the estate’s slopes are home to all three of Saint-Emilion’s hallmark soils in equal measure: the vineyard’s plateau is made of limestone, the hillside a mix of limestone and deep clays, while the banks of the Dordogne river are predominantly sand and clay. The unique diversity of the soil helped to underline the estate’s identity.  “Ch. Berliquet is the expression of a specific landscape,” Araud says. One key element of this landscape is a Mediterranean belt that runs across the property (found at Bélair-Monange too), with Mediterranean species of plants naturally growing here – with cypress, fig, pine trees, lavender and laurel all at home. The team has looked to nurture this natural biodiversity, planting over 1,000 hedges, shrubs and trees since 2017, as well as installing nesting boxes for birds (to help as natural pest control). The property is certified organic as of the 2024 vintage.  Alongside this, Nicolas Audebert has embarked upon significant restructuring of the vineyards. At the beginning of Chanel’s tenure, the vineyard was planted with as much as 80% Merlot; but, in early 2018, following their soil analysis, the technical team realised the significant role that Cabernet Franc could play on the property’s clay-rich soils, on the slopes below the limestone plateau. Since then, the vineyard has gradually been restructured, with plots of Merlot replaced with Cabernet Franc. Today, 2.5 hectares of the vineyard have been replanted, taking the proportion of Cabernet Franc up to 40%. The goal in the long term is to bring the blend up to 50% Cabernet Franc.  In 2021, they also decided to plant some Malbec – 0.34-hectare plot of this grape that was – prior to phylloxera – widely planted in the region. Nicolas Audebert and his team believe that addition of malbec will add to the diversity of the fruit, the results of this change will be evident from the 2024 vintage, with its first inclusion in the blend.  While much of the work has been in the vineyard, part of Berliquet’s recent progress can be linked to the winery. Although Berliquet benefits from having the same technical team as that of Canon and Croix Canon, one of the thinks that marks Berliquet out from its stablemates is their use of amphorae. The estate started with just two amphorae in 2019, and today have 12 – deemed a key part of the wine’s character, with 10% of the blend matured in these clay vessels instead of oak. Araud pointed out that the amphora have helped to preserve the brightness of the fruit – carrying through their work in the vineyard to the final wine.  The 2023 vintage also saw the inauguration of what Araud calls “the playground” – their new vat room, complete with 22 stainless steel tanks. “Now that we have all the building blocks in place in the vineyard, we can pay more attention to each and every plot, resulting in greater precision and refinement in the final blend,” she explains.  The 2024 vintage is the eighth under team Chanel and, over that time, the team has continuously questioned their practices, making small adjustments in the vineyard and winery – making gradual but constant progression. And that progression is evident in the wine today, which has shaken off any rusticity it might once have displayed. As Jean-Basile Roland, Commercial Director for Chanel’s three estates, described to us back in April, they’ve been sharpening the wine’s silhouette – a wine that he describes as “telluric” versus Canon’s “ethereal” style. However you describe it, the wine is clearly better than ever before and well worth watching, with more improvements undoubtedly in the pipeline. Browse all current Berliquet listings or read more Editorial

In 2017, Chanel added Ch. Berliquet to their suite of prestigious Bordeaux properties, joining nearby Ch. Canon and Margaux’s Ch. Rauzan-Ségla. Our Bordeaux Buyer Hector Howes reports on the evolution of the estate under its new expert owners – and why it’s one to watch

How the Chanel team is transforming Saint-Emilion estate Berliquet – acquired by the owners of Canon and Rauzan-Segla in 2017 – and why it’s one to watch

Harnessing Ch. Berliquet’s potential

Berliquet: harnessing the property’s potential

The grey horse stretches its neck out towards me, curling its lip towards my outreached palm, before nuzzling my pocket, in search perhaps of a potential snack. Its head is the size of my torso, its hooves the size of my head, with the entire beautiful beast weighing circa one ton, I’m told. You can sense the power of its immense muscled mass. Nearby, Adelaide Bonnefond, a petite 20-something is calling to the rest of her troupe of friendly giants. Balthazar – the aforementioned grey – is “a real lazybones”, Baudoin can be a bit fast and over-eager, while Olive is a horse of remarkable patience. “Each one has its own character,” Bonnefond says.  We’re in a field a stone’s throw from Ch. Pontet-Canet, where the property’s 10 horses spend their weekends and holidays. This Pauillac Fifth Growth is one of a handful of estates around the region, and indeed the world, that has returned to using horses in the vineyard – in lieu of modern machinery. Unusually, they have brought this operation in house – with their own stables and a five-strong team dedicated to grooming, handling and working the horses, led by Bonnefond.  “I have no idea,” says Mathieu Bessonet – the property’s Technical Director – when I ask how much it adds to their bills. “It’s not important for us… it’s a philosophy.” Herbicides were banned long ago at the estate, and they’ve been farming organically since 2004, certified organic and biodynamic from 2010 (the first Classed Growth to achieve the latter), with horses first introduced in 2008. They’re just one form of livestock you’ll find on the property. When I arrive, a drift of pigs is penned on the front lawn, tasked with munching on the invasive weed, common couch or quackgrass – but there are cattle and donkeys too. Collectively, they consume 60 tons of hay, three tons of barley and 600 kilos of lucerne (organic, of course) – much of which will end up back between the vines.  “A lot of money goes into taking good care of this place – what is in fact our tool for production,” says Bessonet. “The property is over 300 years old, so we’re just passing through. If I spend 20 years here, it’s a long time – but it’s only 3% of the history of Pontet-Canet. We have to take care of this place to be able to pass it on.” And working with horses is just one way in which they aim to do this, reducing soil compaction, allowing water, air and microbes to move through the soil. They can be more precise with their work and – most importantly – break fewer vines. A stunning number of vines are knocked out of place by tractors, something that is considered a natural consequence of modern farming – but not one that this estate is willing to accept.  “Wine, it’s made by the roots of the vines,” says Bessonet. As vines age, their roots creep further down into the soil and Pontet-Canet has some of the oldest vineyards in the Médoc, averaging 55 years in age. And it is the age of their vines, Bessonet feels, that “allows us to express the terroir”, as well as tempering climatic extremes (a growing concern with climate change). While it wasn’t a key reason for the shift back in 2008, using horses also allows them to reduce their carbon footprint – both by using fewer fossil fuels and increasing the carbon-holding capacity of their vineyards, something that is at the forefront of producers’ minds today.  The switch from tractor to horse has changed the way they farm more than can be measured in analytical results, however. “They are not little machines; working the vines with horses, we really become one with the vines,” says Bonnefond. The way you interact with an animal versus a machine is totally different, and she feels that as a result they are much more reactive, more aware of their work and able to stop at any moment. And, as Bessonet notes, even those that have worked at the property for 10 or 15 years can’t help but smile when the horses pass by. As any good manager knows, a happy team will pay endless dividends.  Back in 2008, they started with just two horses, but that number has grown to 10 today. They have a combination of breeds – Percheron and Comtois largely today, although they’ve had Bretons in the past. Percherons are larger, and they’ve been moving more towards Comtois, favouring the slightly smaller and even more gentle breed that hails from the Jura. All are draft horses, historically used in war and agriculture – weighing around double that of the daintier breeds you might see eventing or show-jumping.  Bessonet’s grandmother was, he tells me, almost insulted when he told her they were using horses – seeing it as a step backwards; but, as he and Bonnefond explain, the work is totally different to that of generations past. They might not be powered by electricity, but modern technology and know-how is being used to refine the way they work and the implements they use. Over the years, they’ve developed lots of tools themselves, and worked with a local business to craft others – a slow process that can only be tackled by those with a truly long-term vision.  They buy horses when they’re around three or four years old, so they’ve been broken in and have started their training but can be finished and finessed in-house (“They know the commands, but they’re still young so don’t necessarily listen,” explains Bessonet. “They’re teenagers!”). They’re unsurprisingly picky about the breeders they work with, and ensuring that the training received in their formative years is up to scratch. By the time the process is finished, the moment the plough touches the trunk of a vine, a horse will know to stop instantly, not even needing a human command, avoiding any significant damage. They have a mini faux vineyard with a handful of short rows lined with posts (but no vines) on the estate, a sort of school where they can train younger horses and use at the start of the season, spending half a day so the animals can get back to the pace of work.  Monday to Friday, the horses are at work, stabled next to the winery (with stalls crafted from old barrels). Each horse will work for half a day (sometimes longer if the tools they’re pulling are sufficiently light), before being walked back to the stables to allow for active recovery – evacuating lactic acid in their legs, something that is essential to maintain their health. With the time to groom, harness and unharness, wash down, muck out and feed the horses, each will work around three hours or so a day. Bonnefond’s team will take one horse out in the morning, before going back out with a different one in the afternoon. Alongside their work, the horses are lunged (moved in a circle around a handler, on a long lead rein) – working both on commands and their flexibility. “To change their minds too, seeing something other than the vines” explains Bonnefond.  There are around 10 passes per row a year, four or five to work the soils and around five others – spraying to protect pruning wounds (to prevent grapevine trunk diseases), making holes for planting new vines, spraying horsetail to control mildew pressure, as well as the 500 and 501 preparations (biodynamic sprays). Today, around half of the property’s 81 hectares is worked by horse – and the team is always working to do more, but Bessonet is unsure if 100% is a realistic goal. Copper sulphate – the main spray used in organic and biodynamic viticulture – is spread by tractor, not being something they’d want to expose the horses to (nor put gas masks on them, as was done during the Second World War).   The work is, inevitably, seasonal – and they’re turned out to pasture at weekends and during quiet periods, with lunging to keep them sharp. As soon as véraison takes place (the grapes changing in colour from green to red), “It’s holiday time for the horses,” says Bonnefond, laughing. At that point the grapes become too fragile and could be knocked by the horses, breaking the skins and damaging the fruit.   All being well, the horses work until they’re 18 or 20 years in age, and then Pontet-Canet finds them a home to live out their old age. Retirement can, in fact, be the hardest stage for these work-horses, explains Bonnefond. “They’re used to seeing everyone every day,” she says. One horse, Turbo, kept waiting at the gates, ready to go to work, for well over a month after he’d left the estate, struggling to adapt to his new, restful way of life.  Bonnefond had never worked in agriculture before arriving at Pontet-Canet, having been at an equestrian centre, and her team has similarly varied backgrounds (one used to train trotters and one worked with circus horses, for example). They’ve each got their favourites in Pontet-Canet’s herd, she confesses (hers is a handsome bay who is especially energetic), but they all work with each of the horses, to keep it interesting for the animals, and so that no horse gets too used to any particular handler.  It's certainly not light work – for Bonnefond and her team at least. Days are long and the work is physically demanding, but seeing Bonnefond in the field with the horses, her dainty frame at odds with the gigantic draft horses surrounding her, it’s clear that she loves it. Having a team like this in-house is something few estates can afford, but it’s reflective – as Bessonet says – of the philosophy at Pontet-Canet. Their special band of gravel terrace in the Médoc, shared with the likes of Mouton Rothschild, Lafite Rothschild and Cos d’Estournel – properties that represent the pinnacle of Cabernet Sauvignon around the world, deserves to be protected and preserved in every way possible.  Explore all current listings of Pontet-Canet or read more about Bordeaux  

Behind the winery at Ch. Pontet-Canet, you’ll find a row of stables. In the first of our series taking you behind the scenes in Bordeaux, we dive into how the beautiful draft horses that live here are key to the philosophy at the leading Pauillac estate

Horses are key to the philosophy at leading Bordeaux wine estate Pontet-Canet: we caught up with the team in Pauillac to find out more

Taking the reins at Ch. Pontet-Canet

Burgundy is a mecca for lovers of fine Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, but, with its litany of producers and vineyards, it can be a tricky region to get to grips with. Here we offer an essential guide to the region – breaking down everything from how vineyards are classified to producers to look out for

Discover everything you need to know about Burgundy: from vineyards and producers to the difference between négociant and domaine or what a Grand Cru is

FINE+RARE: Your essential guide to Burgundy wine

Your essential guide to Burgundy

“It’s difficult when you don’t have vines, a winery, any equipment or money,” Stéphane Dief – co-owner and winemaker at Clos Manou – tells me. “You say you want to be a winemaker, but it is complicated. Our advantage, however, was being able to do exactly what we wanted.” Over the last 25 years, he and his wife Françoise have slowly grown their tiny estate in the northern reaches of the Médoc, beyond Saint-Estèphe, where they make wine that offers some of the best value in the region.  Saint-Christoly-Médoc – the miniscule village that is home to their domaine – is where Stéphane grew up, while Françoise is from less than 15km away. Although Françoise’s family had vines, neither she nor Stéphane were working in the production side of the business, but they fell in love with wine. Via his brothers-in-law – who worked at Ch. Mouton Rothschild and Ch. Rauzan-Sègla – Stéphane started tasting some special wines, buying older vintages at auction – and was soon determined to give it a go himself.  Together, the couple bought a mere 12 ares and produced their first vintage in 1998, 600 bottles that they labelled as Clos Manou – “Clos” because they felt it wasn’t grand enough to use “Château”, and “Manou”, Stéphane’s nickname. It was such a success that their hobby rapidly became a full-time gig and the duo left their day jobs in 2000.  In some ways it doesn’t sound like they were doing anything remarkable. They wanted to make attractive wines that reflected their site, and to do so with precision and care. Their ambitions were modest. And yet, for Bordeaux, their small-scale, hand-crafted approach was – and is – atypical.  They sought out specific parcels of old vines, those planted before clonal material became commonplace, favouring the natural complexity of massal selection. They chose to work only with high-density vineyards – around 10,000 vines per hectare, a point at which Stéphane feels the vines self-regulate, meaning there’s no need to green harvest and often less de-leafing required.  In principle, they are close to organic – however, in a bid to avoid dependency on copper, they use bio-controls that aren’t permitted under organics, specifically phosphonic acid. They don’t use any herbicides, insecticides or chemicals – but believe that copper, as a heavy metal that kills soil’s microbiome, is best used minimally, and they prefer to use something that doesn’t leave trace levels in the final wine.   Almost everything is done by hand, with 12 full-time employees working on the estate. There are no protocols or routines. “We do things by watching, observing our vines and drawing conclusions and echoing those conclusions the following year,” Stéphane says.  The 2003 vintage was a turning point. Robert Parker gave the wine 93 points – an incredible score for such a modest Médoc, writing that it was “better than many of the vintage’s ‘big’ names”, “drop-dead-gorgeous” and a “prodigious effort”. Given the critic was at his peak, his influence was significant – and suddenly Clos Manou was in enormous demand.  “C’est notre métier, mais notre passion aussi," Stéphane says – “It’s our profession, but it’s our passion too." That explains perhaps why, for 11 years, he didn’t take a day off. “My wife wasn’t very happy with me,” Stéphane tells me, laughing cheekily.   Today they have 18.5 hectares of vines, scattered between Saint-Christoly-Médoc and Couquèques, all within a three-kilometre radius. They sit across three different soil types – gravel over clay, limestone-clay and sand, with some sitting very close to the estuary itself. Stéphane thinks of them as three children – one of which, the gravel over clay, is naturally gifted. But just because the other two need a bit more work, doesn’t mean they are any lesser. There is, he says, no such thing as “un petit terroir”. One special parcel dates back to 1850. Planted before phylloxera swept through the region, it’s managed to survive thanks to its sandy soils. In certain vintages they make a special “Cuvée 1850” from the block.  Despite the vines averaging 45 years in age, the yields are generally good – sitting at around 50hl/ha. Stéphane emphasises that low yields don’t equate to better quality, necessarily – the balance of your vines is what matters most.  It’s undeniable that climate change has been a benefit here, beyond Saint-Estèphe, where once it was a struggle to ripen fruit. In 2018, Clos Manou had 15% alcohol – but, thanks to their clay soils, the pH was a vibrant 3.52, bringing great freshness to balance the wine. He’s still thinking about the long-term impact of the rising mercury, however, and experimenting with small portions of whole-bunch, inspired by the likes of Guillaume Pouthier at Les Carmes Haut-Brion. Stéphane feels that it can add tension and make the wines feel more dynamic, even on just 5% of the blend. “On est des vrais vignerons – comme il y a en Bourgogne," Stéphane tells me ("We are true vignerons – as there are in Burgundy"). Unlike larger properties where there are various directors who influence decisions – it’s just them deciding what to do. Despite looking further afield for their inspiration, he and Françoise don’t want to go against the grain of the region. “We want to be a bit unorthodox, but we are nevertheless Bordelais,” he says.  Clos Manou is, in essence, a family business. There’s nothing remarkable about their modest ways, but their freedom to start with a blank page has allowed them to create something that is no longer the norm. Inspired by the Bordeaux of yesteryear, everything is low-tech yet done with great precision. The wines are fresh and pure, yet distinctly savoury and earthy – with a natural intensity that points to their old vines. You can see the addition of larger oak and amphorae in more recent vintages, bringing more vibrancy. They are somehow rustic yet fine. Little has changed here since 1998; let’s hope that that remains the case, and the Dief family continue to craft humble expressions of Bordeaux that are very much extraordinary.  Browse all listings of Clos Manou or read more about Bordeaux 

At first glance, Clos Manou might seem run-of-the-mill. But this small estate in the Médoc is far from it. We sat down with Stéphane Dief to talk about how a hobby became his life, the freedom of a fresh start, and why his family’s wines are worth seeking out

We talk to Stephane Dief about his family estate in the Medoc, Clos Manou – one of Bordeaux’s best-value wines and best-kept secrets

Why Clos Manou is anything but ordinary

Anything but ordinary: Clos Manou

One hundred years ago, two men, inspired by the Scottish distilling tradition, produced the first Japanese whisky. In the years that have followed, the category’s fortunes – much like its founders’ relationship – have been turbulent.    The story begins in 1923 when pharmaceutical wholesaler turned Spanish wine importer Shinjiro Torii invested his family fortune in building the Yamazaki distillery, against their advice. Torii enlisted the help of wet-behind-the-ears chemist Masataka Taketsuru – who had spent time learning his craft in Scotland – to lead production on their first whisky, Suntory Shirofuda, which was released in 1929. The two men did not see eye to eye and parted ways following the dismal reception of Shirofuda. Taketsuru famously went on to found the other great Japanese whisky producer, Nikka, and their fierce rivalry persisted. This is one of the reasons Japanese distilleries, to this day, blend in-house rather than trade liquid. Despite this rocky start, the Japanese domestic whisky market looked bullish by the late 1930s – Yamazaki’s next whisky (Suntory Kakubin, released in 1937) was more warmly received and Taketsuru successfully re-entered the scene with his first whisky, Nikka Yoichi, in 1940.  Fast forward to the early 1980s and the category was in fine fettle – Suntory and Nikka had both released their first single malt expressions and there was plenty of cause for optimism. But this prosperity sadly did not last as a steep decline in consumption caused the Japanese whisky market to splutter and almost entirely stall, resulting in many distilleries, including Karuizawa, being forced to close their doors. Both Yamazaki and Nikka managed to stay afloat but their output was significantly reduced as the economy and category stagnated, marking a bleak 25-year chapter in Japanese whisky’s history.   When demand was reignited around the mid-to-late 2000s, it largely came from Europe. A perfect storm caused this spike in interest, including wider interest in Japan (think Bill Murray in Lost in Translation), the resurgence of the Highball cocktail (circa 2007) and Suntory’s Yamazaki Single Malt Sherry Cask 2013 being named the world’s best in 2014 – a first for the category. Around this time, the world was also introduced to Ichiro Akuto’s highly collectable Card Series and the lost distilling icon, Karuizawa. “The mad scramble for crumbs on the Japanese whisky scene is something nobody could have predicted,” acclaimed Japanese whisky writer and Ghost Series independent bottler Stefan Van Eycken tells me. “In the space of 10 years, the situation went from being able to buy a whole range of single-cask Japanese whiskies at a big electronics chain for peanuts to bottles not even reaching the shelves of liquor stores anymore. “Even I, who had been exploring the Japanese whisky scene in the ‘dark ages’, couldn’t have predicted that,” he says matter-of-factly. “If I could have, I would have rented a van, bought up all the bottlings that were available for purchase and I could have retired by now.” Yumi Yoshikawa joined the team at Chichibu in 2013 after a two-year stint in Scotland, first working in the Highlander Inn in Craigellachie – which will require little introduction for spirits journalists or enthusiasts – and at the Bruichladdich Distillery on Islay. “People didn’t know the value of aged [Japanese] whisky back then,” Yoshikawa tells me. “Or that Japan had a long whisky history,” she adds. Somebody who was instrumental in educating the world on these two points is Marcin Miller, a man whose fortitude dragged Karuizawa out of obscurity. The genteel and thoroughly entertaining former Whisky Magazine Editor turned drinks entrepreneur, recalls the landscape when he and business partner David Croll first tasted those fateful Karuizawa single casks in the early 2000s.  “The most common complaint [from whisky enthusiasts] at the time would seem to be that it's all very well for me tasting this stuff but we never get to see any where we are in Western Europe or Northern America,” he recalls. So the two men set about changing this by buying the remaining stock from the then-lost Karuizawa, bottling it, and making it available to the masses – with resounding success. It’s a gross misapprehension – held by many – that the duo meandered into a meeting room, tasted a parcel of Karuizawa, bought it on the spot, and bottled it shortly after, grinning like Cheshire cats as the coffers swelled. In truth, it was four and a half years of negotiation and countless sleepless nights during the process. When pallets of casks from the ghost distillery in a nascent whisky market were finally shipped to them, there was no guarantee the wider whisky world would be interested. “Whatever anyone says, it really was not easy…” He trails off, transported to that time, and all the challenges the pair transversed when bringing the mature Japanese whisky from a then-unknown producer to its now almost mythic status.  Miller talks of the “extraordinary, phenomenal effect” Karuizawa had on him. Croll, Miller and acclaimed drinks writer Dave Broom – who has since quite literally written the book on Japanese whisky – initially tasted 69 single-cask Karuizawa samples. “I would have bottled any of those casks,” Miller says, a fond smile warming his face. If it hadn’t been for Croll, who had lived in Japan for 30 years and owned a successful drinks business, Miller says they likely never would have got a foot in the door at Karuizawa – or secured the exclusive distribution rights of the much-lauded Chichibu and Hanyu. “I dare say Karuizawa would have been blended away into big plastic five-litre tubs of supermarket whisky,” Miller says reticently. When Van Eycken moved to Japan around the same time as Miller and Co were negotiating the Karuizawa deal, he hadn’t even realised whisky was being produced there. Japanese whisky consumption and production were at an all-time low and the general feeling, he says, was that the whisky made in Japan was “cheap and good for getting a buzz when going out, but that the good stuff – that you would savour – was Scotch, and Bourbon, to a lesser extent”. The intrepid Van Eycken was taken aback by the quality of the long-aged liquids he sampled on his travels and couldn’t understand why this sentiment wasn’t shared domestically or further afield. When Japanese whisky’s popularity did finally begin to soar, he was perfectly placed to fill the knowledge chasm with his widely acclaimed Nonjatta website and, later, his seminal work Whisky Rising – a fully updated second edition of which came out earlier this year.  “When I wrote the original edition in 2016, there were 14 active distilleries in Japan,” he says. “Fast forward to mid-2022 and there were 41 active distilleries (and even more in the progress of getting ready to distil),” Van Eycken tells me. All of the new distilleries, he says, are attempting to follow the so-called “craft model” with a single pair of pot stills and fairly limited production. The inspiration, of course, being Ichiro Akuto and his incredible accomplishments over the past 15 years at Chichibu. “But not everyone can be an Ichiro – though most new distillers are certainly hoping to be equally successful, if not more, than Ichiro,” he adds. Several of these new distilleries are located in and around the town of Karuizawa. “My personal feeling is that it doesn’t make a lot of sense to try and compete with the legend that is the (old) Karuizawa distillery,” Van Eycken is quick to add. “The liquid that was made there turned out to be something very special, and not only by design. I have had the dubious pleasure of tasting the new-make from the old Karuizawa distillery and it was absolutely foul.  “But during the maturation process, over 20, 30, 40 years, something magical happened. Some of this can be explained, but most of it is a hermetic mystery. We simply cannot know why decades later this harsh spirit transformed into a sublime whisky (in most cases). Even if you wanted to replicate this whisky – or aspects of it – you couldn’t.  “And hoping to match the quality of the (original) Karuizawa whisky… well, it’s good to aim high but it's a bit like naming your kid Roger Federer in the hope that he would turn into a tennis player of the same calibre. Why would you want to put that sort of pressure on the kid?”  Miller is humility personified and doesn’t want to come across as a wizened cynic or, in his words, “boring old fart”, but he’s not confident that all the country’s new distilleries are set for success. “I think people are now trying to replicate the business success but without the foundation of the liquid. They are selling Japanese whisky futures but who knows what the liquid is going to be like because it's not just A + B = C.” There is a cautionary tale in the annals of Scottish whisky distilling that Japanese producers might be wise to heed. Scotch has famously fallen victim to its own success – with booms and busts resulting in whisky lakes, or lochs, that have crippled the industry and forced mass distillery closures. In so faithfully replicating Scotch, there is a real danger Japan will find itself back in the 1980s when the likes of Karuizawa were shuttered. This time, however, there would be many more casualties.      “For the time being, the Japanese whisky scene continues to be marked by an unbridled optimism,” Van Eycken adds. “Distillers price their (invariably young) whiskies very high (compared with similarly established whisky markets around the world) and consumers snap up the bottles regardless of the (sometimes unjustifiably) high prices.”  This price war is one of the reasons Miller et al sold their remaining stock of Karuizawa, which had initially been priced fairly but wasn’t the case when they left the scene. The 1960 Karuizawa, for example, which yielded 41 bottles was released circa 2014 for £12,500. Within a decade, those same bottles were easily reaching $375,000. “That's not a bad return in 10 years,” Miller says caustically. “But that's not why we did it. If that had been our motivation, we'd have just held on to it and had 41 times that.” For those still in the industry – and disciples of it – there is a real push to protect the integrity of Japanese whisky and futureproof it. Yoshikawa picks up the point, outlining that the few have muddied the water for the many: “The rapid publicity and the reputation of Japanese whisky have led to its use of excessive PR strategies, even when this is not in line with the facts of the product.” For these reasons, she is an advocate of more stringent regulations, like the ones announced by the Japan Spirits and Liqueurs Makers Association in 2021 which aims to restrict certain practices – like labelling whisky that isn’t actually from Japan as Japanese whisky – akin to those enshrined and strongly policed in Scotland. But she, like many, thinks these could go further and believe it is important to continue scrutinising the practices of the small and larger players, ensuring there is greater transparency and less “skullduggery”, as Van Eycken puts it. As the ink dries on the past 100 years of Japanese whisky, no one knows what the next century might entail – but there's plenty of excitement. The landscape will undoubtedly change once more, and new giants and legends will likely emerge. For whisky enthusiasts, the challenge – as always – will be pre-empting the plot twists and securing bottles before they become little more than folklore.  Browse all Japanese whisky or read more editorial

As Japanese whisky enters its 100th year, producers are in a mad scramble to build the next legend. Holly Motion assesses whether previous fairytale endings can be repeated – and ponders if those individuals attempting to stand on the shoulders of giants might have a great fall

Exploring the epic story of Japanese whisky – from its genesis, to rebirth and future – as it celebrates its centenary.

100 years of Japanese whisky

A modern epic: 100 years of Japanese whisky

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

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

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

The new team at Ch. Lafon-Rochet

Meeting the new team at Ch. Lafon-Rochet

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

I’ve written this having just finished my second en primeur report for Decanter magazine. Four weeks of intensive tasting, two weeks of intensive writing – Primeurs is both the best and hardest period of the year, exhausting and rewarding. But, where one tasting finishes another one arises: tomorrow, I fly to Canada for a tasting of Bordeaux 1982 wines – with the legendary vintage showcased in 40 top bottles at a charity dinner in Vancouver. Sometimes my life feels like a dream.   Despite not having a background in wine before joining Decanter in 2011, and certainly no family cellar filled with dusty treasures, I became enthralled the moment I was handed my first glass of fine wine – at my desk, no less. “How is this a job?” I thought to myself. Many years of tastings and trips passed, meeting the world’s foremost winemakers and writing about wine in various ways, however the “critic” role (more of an American designation than British, I think) was never one I coveted – and certainly not one I expected to ever have.    The barrier to entry seemed so high, even though I was already working at Decanter, which understandably tended to only use “regional experts” and Masters of Wine, many with decades of experience and often living in their chosen region – something I now fully understand and would encourage any budding wine writer to do.   Skip forward a decade or so and I’m now responsible for Decanter Premium, overseeing the digital strategy for subscriptions and content behind the paywall on decanter.com – and now Bordeaux correspondent too, having taken over from long-time Decanter contributor Jane Anson in July 2021.   When Jane moved on, the question was who would fill the position. A combination of desire on my part and the lure of a challenge (who wouldn’t want this job?), happenstance (in that I had not long moved to live in Bordeaux city, placing me in the perfect location to take up the role), and a shortage of qualified candidates in the region, all seemed to work in my favour.  While Decanter authoritatively covers wines from all around the world (one of its biggest selling points for me), Bordeaux is what we call “heartland content” – and the stats don’t lie. It’s consistently the most-read and paid-for content we produce, by far. From Primeurs to livrable “in-bottle” tastings to estate verticals and incredibly old horizontals, there’s always something to taste, at every price point, in every conceivable style. And with around 7,000 estates, there’s no end of new cellars to see, new vineyards to walk into and new winemakers at the helm.   So there’s pressure, especially writing for the magazine with its expectation of quality and deep understanding. But, there’s also non-stop dynamism, and living here brings the action so much closer, something I never truly understood before. An hour each way from my home, I can be in Saint-Emilion, Sauternes or Saint-Julien.   The Decanter name is hugely respected in Bordeaux and I’m extremely fortunate to have been welcomed so generously and thoroughly. The last 22 months have been spent tasting and visiting estates as much as I can. I’ve done dozens of verticals that have yet to be published, spent weeks with winemakers in vineyards and cellars, talked to consultants about changing styles and négociants about market trends. I took part in my first harvest last year (thank you Cheval Blanc) and my first blending session this year (thank you Nicolas Glumineau, General Manager at Pichon Comtesse).   I've also been inducted into the Commanderie du Bontemps of the Médoc, Graves, Sauternes and Barsac, as well as the Hospitaliers de Pomerol (two historic brotherhoods, now modern-day societies that encourage, support and help promote the wines and winemakers of their respective regions). These are all enriching experiences that are the building blocks of my Bordeaux knowledge.  Somehow I thought having done the 2021 en primeur tastings and report last year (as well as two in-bottle reports since I started – all with around 900 wines sampled each time) the 2022 report would be easier – it wasn’t. Tasting is actually really tough – not only physically demanding and tiring, but mentally exhausting. It goes without saying that experience is helpful, comprehension and context are key for notes and scores, but passion is also a must. I’m building the first two, the latter I still have in abundance.   Despite sometimes pinching myself, looking back there’s a strange sense of destiny attached to my current role. My first ever work trip was to Bordeaux (and I ended up buying an apartment almost round the corner from the hotel I first stayed at). My first fine wine vertical was – amazingly –  of First Growth Ch. Mouton Rothschild with the then brilliant winemaker Philippe Dhalluin at Café Lavinal in Pauillac. My first article was about a Bordeaux panel tasting and I even had maps of Bordeaux vineyards on my bedroom wall in London, something I had forgotten until I came across some old photos recently.   An added bonus, my father only drinks Bordeaux wines so this job definitely earns me favourite child status.  As much as it’s serious and hard work, it’s also huge fun, interesting, glamorous and ever-changing. I think humility and gratitude are important, as well as a genuine enthusiasm to tell the stories of these wonderful wines and the people who make them.  Is the role of “critic” my true calling – above publishing, improvement strategies and brand building? I don’t know. What I do know; I love writing. I love Cabernet (Sauvignon and Franc)! I love mature Bordeaux (and am currently seeking out as much 2001 as possible). I love blind tasting the region’s wines to try and place them in their appellations (despite myriad differences in viticulture and vinification this is somehow still possible – the power of Pauillac, the prettiness of Margaux, the minerality of Saint-Estephe). I love the light in Saint-Emilion at dusk during the summer – is there a more romantic wine region?    But most of all, I love the joy and passion surrounding winemaking – not limited to Bordeaux, but the family histories, long-standing traditions, connection to gastronomy, focus on innovation and investment – they all give the region an extra glint in my eye.   What I don’t love, however, is my dentist telling me off and trying to find a place to store all my bottles... but there are worse problems, admittedly. (Speaking of which, if anyone wants to drive me round the region for next year’s Primeurs, applications open soon!)  For now, I'm excited to see how this year's Primeurs campaign goes. There's no doubt that many producers have created exceptional wines worth buying, but whether the market is sufficiently dynamised by the prices is another question. I'm eagerly awaiting a copy of this year's Bordeaux guide (on sale with the June issue of Decanter) filled with all the wonderful happenings in Bordeaux right now, as well as looking forward to discovering some of the hidden non-classified gems of Margaux. The sun looks set to appear for the first proper time this week, sending temperatures up and kickstarting the 2023 growing season – and, as with any vintage, there’s already so much to look forward to.  Read more about Bordeaux or browse all Bordeaux listings  Photography: Luke Carver

Georgie Hindle had big shoes to fill when she took over from Jane Anson as Decanter’s Bordeaux correspondent in 2021. Here she talks about how she fell for the region and what it’s really like working as a wine critic

Decanter’s Bordeaux correspondent Georgie Hindle takes us behind the scenes in Bordeaux, talking about life as a wine critic

Canon Fronsac

2020 La Croix Canon

2005 Moulin Pey Labrie