2001 Chambolle-Musigny, Premier Cru, Les Amoureuses, Domaine Jacques-Frédéric Mugnier (and lashings of Beaujolais) – chosen by Daniel Johnnes, Wine Director of The Dinex Group and Founder of La Paulée, La Fête du Champagne, La Tablée and Pressoir  “This holiday I plan on opening several bottles of great wine. Great doesn't necessarily mean expensive or rare. I'll be sure to drink plenty of Beaujolais and mostly from my favorite producers, Morgon from Marcel Lapierre, Fleurie from Jean-Louis Dutraive and Chiroubles from Domaine Thillardon. As much as they are "drink everyday" wines, they also have the magic power of putting a smile on everyone's face.  “Yet, for that really special wine, I plan on opening a bottle of Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru Les Amoureuses 2001 from Domaine Jacques-Frédéric Mugnier. Chambolle-Musigny is among my favorite villages in Burgundy and the Amoureuses vineyard could easily make a case to be classified as Grand Cru. It combines the perfume, texture, elegance and persistence typical of the very best red Burgundy. The style of Domaine Mugnier is one of refinement and grace. And with 20-plus years’ age, it should be perfect for drinking now. Even though it will accompany a roast chicken, this wine is like a celebration and a meal in and of itself.”  2018 Klein Constantia Vin de Constance – chosen by Jeffrey Koren, Head of Wine at Marceline, London  “While it’s easy to open a perfunctory bottle of Port or Sauternes at the end of a Christmas meal, the oh-so-delicious Vin de Constance by Klein Constantia has become my go-to sweet wine for the festive period over the past few years. Steeped in history, Vin de Constance was famously a favourite of Napoleon and lauded by authors like Jane Austen and Baudelaire. These days, winemaker Matt Day has revived this legendary dessert wine to its former acclaim. It always offers wonderful notes of apricot, honey and spice. But most importantly, it’s balanced by refreshing acidity that is an absolute necessity after an indulgent holiday meal.”  Hauller Frères Pinot Gris La Chappelle Signature – chosen by Joséphine Duffau-Lagarrosse, Ch. Beauséjour   “Ludovic Hauller is a long-standing friend I met during my studies in Burgundy. I appreciate the precision that his family channels into the wines, and this cuvée showcases great finesse, with freshness and elegance, mirroring the granite terroir in which the vines grow. It’s a Pinot Gris of remarkable complexity, hailing from a plot that sits below the Chapelle Saint-Sébastien de Dambach-la-Ville. Ludovic introduced me to Alsatian wines, which I knew little of previously, and I love this cuvée. As for when, this is definitely the kind of bottle I would open in the days following Christmas, with my family, playing board games by the fire and putting the world to rights, patiently waiting for the New Year!”  2002 Champagne Salon, Giuseppe Mascarello’s 2017 Barolo Villero, Tiberio’s 2018 Colle Vota – chosen by Lorenza Sebasti, Castello di Ama  “As usual, this Christmas we will open a magnum of 2002 Champagne Salon. I remember we had the chance to buy a few magnums a long time ago as they were precisely the birth years of our children (1997, 1999 and 2002). Then I guess I will spoil everyone at home with a beautiful Barolo Giuseppe Mascarello Villero 2017 and Colle Vota Montepulciano d’Abruzzo 2018 from my dear friend Cristiana Tiberio. She makes very few bottles of this very elegant and vibrant wine, which is among my favourite reds.”  2021 La Morandina Moscato d’Asti – chosen by Donald Edwards, Head Sommelier at La Trompette, London  “Beyond the best white Burgundy I can lay my grubby mits on, I’ll be cracking the second bottle on a case of La Morandina’s 2021 Moscato d’Asti – part of a new festive tradition. Back when my wine appreciation was still protean, I heard a rumour that Moscato d’Asti – the sweet fizzy floral stuff that we sold in my Glasgow Oddbins – ages magnificently. Twenty or so years later, I’m the Head Sommelier at La Trompette, hosting a big Piedmont-themed wine lunch. Barolos and Barbarescos aplenty litter the room, but the wine that stops me in my tracks? A 2013 Moscato d’Asti from Giuseppe Vajra. It was phenomenal, still gleefully tasty, but now with a touch of extra weight, more waxy lime skin and late-evening summer flowers, heady in its bouquet. Here she was, my white whale, and, boy, she didn’t disappoint.  “Last December, visiting La Morandina in Asti, I asked whether they had anything with a bit of age and lo! a 15-year-old magnum appeared. My stars had aligned for a second time – the wine equally lovely, offering a bit more exotic spice, cardamom and coriander seed along with the sweet creamy lime zest. Crucially, this time I could see the germ of a plan. Each year, I would buy a cast of Moscato d’Asti, building a reserve of Moscato to steadily enjoy over the coming years. I’ll be the Christmas king of deliciously sweet floral fizz. So, on the morning of 25th, I’ll be twisting the top off the second bottle from last year’s case and smugly enjoying my Moscato and crumpet as I let my mind wander over the riches I’m preparing for the coming years.”  François Cotat Sancerre Le Mont Damné and Massican Gemina – chosen by Alex Sarovich, Founder and CEO of Own Rooted Hospitality  "As the oldest of five in a large Italian family, I've learned that selecting the perfect wine is an art form that requires careful consideration of both the food and the audience. When I'm hanging out with my twin 24-year-old brothers, they're all about vibrant, crisp wines like Champagne or Sancerre. If I can get my hands on it, I love surprising them with a bottle of Cotat’s Le Mont Damné, a truly exceptional wine that never fails to impress.  “In contrast, when I'm with my mom and aunt, we lean into our Italian roots. White wines from Italy are a staple in our household, especially when we're in the kitchen, cooking and preparing a meal together. This year, I'm planning to bring a bottle of Massican Gemina to our holiday gathering in McMinnville. This beautiful white blend, composed of Greco, Falanghina, and Fiano grapes from top California vineyards, perfectly captures the essence of our family's wine appreciation – a nod to our Italian heritage with a California twist.”  Coche-Dury Meursault, Domaine de Trévallon and Jean-Michel Gérin Côte-Rôtie La Landonne – chosen by Philippe Abadie of Alvina Pernot  “First of all, we decided to open a bottle of 2022 Meursault from Domaine Coche-Dury, given to us by a client to celebrate the birth of our son Pâris, who was born on January 1st 2022. We also really like the new style introduced by Raphaël since he took over this magnificent estate. Then Trévallon: my grandfather Georges from the south of France was an unconditional fan of the estate, and during my childhood there was always a bottle on festive tables (for birthdays, Christmas, New Year, etc) – so this will be a little wink to him. Then last, a bottle of Côte-Rôtie La Landonne by Jean-Michel Gérin. The story goes back to a few weeks after I first met Alvina, for this is the bottle of red we drank on our first restaurant date.”  2022 Domaine Yui A Rouge – chosen by Carlito Chiu, Wine Director at Andō, Hong Kong  “Established in 2019 by the dynamic husband-and-wife duo Tetsuya and Aya Sugiyama, Domaine Yui is a Japanese winery with a profound mission of unity and togetherness. Inspired by the meaning of the Japanese word “yui”, “to connect/link”, the Sugiyamas are dedicated to bringing people together through their shared love for wine and agriculture. Their A Rouge is a remarkable expression of Burgundy-style red wine crafted in Hokkaido, Japan – a specific blend of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Pinot Gris that showcases the region’s terroir. It is particularly special to me because it embodies the innovative spirit of Japanese winemaking, while honouring traditional techniques. For me, this wine represents the potential of Japanese terroir and the dedication of winemakers committed to producing world-class wines, making it a wonderful choice for celebrating the joy and warmth of the Christmas season.”  Read more Editorial

As friends and family gather together over Christmas, it’s the perfect time to pull the cork on something special. Here, some of the wine world’s biggest names – with leading sommeliers and top winemakers – to tell us what they’re cracking open this year, and why

Insight on what the wine world’s most famous names – sommeliers and star winemakers – are drinking over Christmas, from Salon Champagne to Vin de Constance 

What the wine world is drinking this Christmas

What those in the industry are drinking this Christmas

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

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

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

Understanding yield and quality in wine

Yield and quality: is less really more?

Burgundy’s vignerons are currently preoccupied with the 2024 vintage – one that has been challenging, with warm, wet weather and high disease pressure, leading to a relatively late harvest in comparison to recent years. But we’ll soon be back on the ground, tasting the 2023s with producers. We’ll be providing a full, detailed report as soon as we can, but – in the meantime – here’s a preview of what to expect from the year.   The 2023 growing season in Burgundy  The growing season wasn’t – for once – hugely eventful in 2023, until the harvest, at least. The winter was warm and dry, delaying budbreak until early April and allowing the region to escape the dangers of frost. The warm weather continued, with a quick and even flowering – promising a generous and homogenous crop. Across the season, rainfall was average for the region. Showers seemed to arrive when needed to support vine growth, with some storms in June, but any disease pressure was easily handled by producers. There was a little localised hail in July, with some damage reported in Meursault.  The first grapes were brought in from 25th August (starting with those destined for Crémant de Bourgogne). Fruit destined for still wines started coming in from the very end of August: 29th for Alvina Pernot, Au Pied du Mont Chauve and Louis Jadot following on 4th September, and Samuel Billaud in Chablis on 11th, with all the fruit in by the end of September. Just as harvest got underway, however, temperatures soared: making for incredibly challenging conditions. As Frédéric Barnier at Jadot explained, it was the first time they’d had to pick in the middle of a heatwave – but was, as he said, “probably our future”. The challenge was largely human: ensuring the safety of those out in the vines picking. There were widespread reports after five people died further north in Champagne due to the strenuous conditions. Some producers harvested at night, or as early as possible once dawn broke, ensuring they stopped before the heat of the day set in, to reduce the risk to pickers. Barnier explained that, although challenging for the team, the hot spell was helpful for the reds. While they picked the whites, the conditions allowed the Pinot Noir to concentrate and gain density, as well as reducing the sometimes-extreme volumes.  The yields were so generous (thanks to the even flowering, warm conditions and plentiful rainfall) that green harvesting was key. Frédéric Weber of Bouchard explained how the vineyards were “a wall of grapes” and they had to drop half the crop. Faiveley green harvested across 80% of its vines. Nevertheless, producers saw record volumes, even on normally low-yielding old vines. At Heresztyn-Mazzini, they reported finding single bunches on their old vines that weighed half a kilo, and Cyril Audoin found he was at the legal maximum even on his oldest plots. At Domaine des Lambrays, Jacques Devauges reported that there’s a third more of their Grand Cru Clos des Lambrays in the vintage, with an impressive 40hl/ha. There were even reports of producers reaching 100hl/ha in potential crop.  Although most vignerons saw even higher yields than 2022, that wasn’t universally the case – as at Lamarche and Hubert Lamy, who both brought in slightly smaller crops than the year before. Even at these addresses, however, producers are happy to have full cellars – and with high-quality wines too.  Key decisions for Burgundy 2023  “It was hard to make bad wines in 2022, but was very easy to take wrong decisions in 2023,” said Louis-Michel Liger-Belair of Domaine du Comte Liger-Belair when we visited him last year.  Harvest dates are always important when it comes to the pernickety Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, but there were many elements to consider in this vintage. Space was a challenge for some producers, on a purely practical level, needing the requisite number of tanks at the right time to allow them to harvest at the right time. The hot end to the season risked losing freshness, so preserving acidity – especially in the whites – was key. As mentioned above, managing the crop-load was important, balancing quantity and quality. Yields were less of a concern when it came to the white grapes, as Chardonnay is better able to manage high yields, however there was potential concern over concentration for the reds. Good producers, of course, are well aware of the need to balance the vine to avoid any potential dilution – and handled the season to harvest a good crop of high-quality fruit.  With the Chardonnay, Barnier explained how at Jadot they blocked the malolactic on some lots to retain freshness; while for the reds, sorting was important (to remove any shrivelled berries) and saignée common. At Jadot, they bled off between 10 and 20% of the juice. We haven’t yet spoken to many producers regarding élevage; with higher volumes, however, we anticipate that there may be higher portions of new oak at some addresses, while others will have looked to alternative vessels to complement their “standard” portion of wood.  The style of the wines in 2023  So far, we’ve tasted very little – only the whites from Samuel Billaud and Alvina Pernot (both of which were very impressive – find more on these below), and we’ll be reporting more once we’ve been out to taste more comprehensively. We can, however, tell you what producers are saying – and what we’re expecting based on the growing season and our conversations so far.  Following on from the good yields of 2022, 2023 was another plentiful vintage – allowing producers to replenish stocks, and cellars are looking much less bare. With the warm weather and good rainfall, the wines are riper than the 2022s, quite generous in style, with an approachability that means they will drink well in youth – yet don’t let that fool you into thinking they don’t also have good acidity.  We have heard rumours of heterogeneity, and – as ever – producer decisions are key in determining success; with the human hand likely more important than site this year. Those that over-cropped risked producing dilute wines – but they are undoubtedly in the minority, and lesser names. That said, from what we’ve tasted and heard, there is good consistency across sites – from village through to Premier and Grand Cru, and across the Côte d’Or.  Alcohol levels are average for the region – sitting between 12% for Bourgogne or village wines, and up to 13.5% for some Grands Crus. The reds are not powerhouses; Jean-Marie Fourrier compared them to 2009 for their ripeness and the generous yields, but Barnier at Jadot feels they sit between the 2017s and 2019s in terms of richness, with a “buvabilité” (“drinkability”) that is very appealing. We expect the whites to be particularly strong this year – offering similar acidity levels to 2022, but additional richness.  At Alvina Pernot, it’s brilliant to see the style develop – with a very complete range of effortless composure; we loved all the wines, but the Meursault Perrières was an undeniable highlight. Alvina Pernot and Philippe Abadie love the purity and balance in their wines, and suggest the 2023s are a blend of the 2020 and 2022 vintages, while Barnier points to a vintage somewhere between 2015 and 2018. The 2018 vintage is also the reference point for Samuel Billaud in Chablis, whose wines were already enticingly aromatic in July this year – precise and gourmand, with a satisfying suppleness.  News from the region  Burgundy, more than ever before, is a region constantly shifting, with land changing hands, producers and ranges evolving. Here are some of the key developments to be aware of for the vintage:  William Fèvre: This benchmark Chablis producer was acquired by Domaines Barons de Rothschild (of Ch. Lafite Rothschild fame) and 2023 will be the first vintage under their ownership – although be reassured that longtime winemaker Didier Séguier remains in situ.  Alvina Pernot: Alvina Pernot stepped down from her family estate (Domaine Paul Pernot) in time for the 2023 harvest, to focus exclusively on her project with husband Philippe Abadie. There is also a new Premier Cru in the line-up this year – Puligny-Montrachet Champs Gains.  Henri Boillot: The 2023 is the 40th vintage that Henri Boillot has produced of their monopole Clos de la Mouchère – a site to which he is rightfully attached. He also noted that the range is around 90% domaine in the vintage.  Hubert Lamy: The 2023 vintage is the first to be made in his new, enlarged cellar.  Charles van Canneyt: The star winemaker behind Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat purchased Domaine des Chézeaux and the 2023 vintage will see the first wines made by him from the estate (under a name that remains to be confirmed). The acquisition brought some prime vineyards, including Griotte-Chambertin, Chambertin, Clos Saint-Denis and Lavaux-Saint-Jacques.  Duroché: The 2023 will be the first vintage of a new Corton from Duroché (half a hectare in Corton Rognet). Technically it is négoce, but is domaine in all but name as they are farming the site themselves.  Olivier Bernstein: Although the Bernstein team has long been farming organically, the 2023 vintage is the first on their path to official certification.  Bouchard Père & Fils: Since Artémis Domaines (the Pinault family of Ch. Latour) purchased the company in 2022, Bouchard has been winding down their négoce operation and the 2023 vintage will be the last for the final few négoce wines, with the range domaine-only from 2024.   What we know so far about Burgundy 2023  A relatively uneventful growing season with a heatwave during harvest  A plentiful crop of good-quality approachable reds and whites  Alcohol levels are average for the region, between 12 and 13.5%  The whites expected to be particularly strong, combining richness and good levels of acidity  The reds seem juicier in style, destined to drink well in their youth and for the medium term  A vintage where producer decisions rather than site seem to have dictated the style of the wines   Keep your eyes peeled for further coverage of the Burgundy 2023 in the coming weeks. In the meantime, browse all available Burgundy 2023. 

Next month our team will be heading out to Burgundy to taste and dig into the 2023 vintage. Ahead of our full report and as the first wines are released en primeur, here’s everything we know so far

Ahead of our full report on Burgundy 2023, here’s everything we know about the vintage, the growing season and the wines produced

A first look at the Burgundy 2023 vintage

Burgundy 2023: first look

The Langhe is unspeakably beautiful. You may have seen Allessandro Masnaghetti’s 3D maps – a painstaking project by this now-iconic cartographer to translate these terroirs to paper. Their textured surfaces speak of Barolo and Barbaresco’s complex geology – and yet they don’t fully convey its endless curves and corners, winding roads and intricate jigsaw of villages and vineyards, nestled in amongst each other. This is a landscape carved and sculpted by nature over 15 million years; the vines cling to precipitous slopes, sweeping down toward the valleys. Like the effortless lines of Michaelangelo’s marble, it’s a masterpiece.  We’ve just returned from a trip to Piedmont’s most prestigious vineyards, dipping a toe in the waters of this fascinating area over three days. With the layers of region, village (11 in Barolo, three in Barbaresco), its Crus (officially known as MGAs, Menzione Geografica Aggiuntiva) and individual vigne or vineyards, Barolo and Barbaresco are often compared to Burgundy. These layers of complexity and nuance are what wine-lovers thrive on, the detail that allows us to indulge new levels of geekery. Add to this the finesse and aromatic perfume of Nebbiolo, and it’s easy to see why Pinot Noir lovers fall for the region.   While wine has long been made in the Langhe (for at least 2,000 years), the first dry Barolo is thought to have been bottled in 1844, with wines before that often sweet or lightly sparkling. It’s only really in the 1960s that the region’s reputation started to be built. Wines were – as in Burgundy – mainly made by négociants until this point, when individual estates started making their own wine. Traditionally wines from across the region were blended to create an expression of Barolo as a whole, but this too started to change. Prunotto and Vietti were the first to identify and vinify individual plots in Barolo, following a trip to Burgundy in the 1950s and ’60s (read more about the birth of Barolo’s Crus here); while in Barbaresco, it was Angelo Gaja who started to make wine exclusively from vineyards the family owned (from 1961) and then bottled the single vineyard Sorì San Lorenzo separately for the first time in 1967.  Traditionally the wines were made with long maceration times (leaving the wine in contact with the skins for 50 or more days) and several years in large oak casks, to extract colour, tannin and flavour from the thin-skinned Nebbiolo. These wines were immensely age-worthy, but their rasping tannins often needed time to become approachable – in some cases the fruit would fade while waiting for the tannins to come round. Winemaking – as elsewhere – was rudimentary, and the late 20th century brought with it modern technology and better hygiene. But the 1980s also saw Barolo divided.  This was the period of Parker and Parkerization, with rich, voluptuous wines with sweet fruit and vanilla tones from new French oak all the rage. Barolo couldn’t be further from this style – and its winemakers were humble farmers, with little recognition (financial or otherwise) for their work. But then a group of producers, led by Elio Altare, embraced the barrique (the traditional 225-litre French oak barrel), looking to put Barolo and its wines on the world map. These modernists, sometimes known as the “Barolo boys”, used new oak, and shorter, more vigorous extractions to craft wines that were fruitier, darker and more immediate – and received instant acclaim. The traditionalists of the region, however, fiercely defended the Langhe’s historical ways, the use of long macerations and large, old botte casks. Bartolo Mascarello famously released a label stating “No Barrique, No Berlusconi” (adorning the 1998 and 1999 vintage), decrying the use of new oak and Berlusconi’s right-wing politics.   Modernisation was essential – and better hygiene, with the arrival of stainless steel, was revolutionary. Today, as more and more producers around the world turn to large oak casks, it’s unsurprising that many in Barolo and Barbaresco are returning to their botti, and new oak has generally fallen from favour (at least in high proportions), yet the barrel certainly lives on, even if still controversial.  “Barrique… it’s an ugly word here in the Langhe,” says Dave Fletcher, the Australian producer who left the Yarra to make wine in Piedmont over a decade ago (under Fletcher Wines and Cantina della Stazione). He avoids new wood, but prefers barrels for the ability to vinify plots separately – something he feels is important for quality. There are also  those who feel that the minimum ageing requirements (18 months in oak for Barbaresco and 24 months in oak for Barolo) are old-fashioned, forcing the production of wood-heavy wines that are removed from current tastes – even suggesting that there’s a movement for these minimum times in oak to be adjusted.  As in Burgundy, whole-bunch has become a divisive topic. Some wines have traditionally been made with whole-bunch fermentation (as with Burlotto’s Monvigliero), but now some producers feel a small percentage can help bring freshness in warmer vintages, while others feel it distracts from the terroir, and doesn’t suit Nebbiolo.  Climate change is seeing a shift in the most prized plots, with some producers now feeling south/southwest-facing sites (historically the most desirable) too warm, and north/northeasterly exposure better for the long term, or finding other ways to manage global warming. Land prices have been rising, and there’s an increasing amount of outside investment, as well an increasing number of producers arriving from beyond Piedmont – although there are still those, such as Vietti’s Eugenio Palumbo, Burlotto’s Alessandria or Gaja’s Gaia Gaja, who were born and bred here, and have been embedded in the industry, and often their family business, their entire lives. We dove into recent vintages, especially the very different yet both excellent 2020 and 2021s, the former open and approachable, the latter closed and needing time. We talked about clones and rootstocks, the persistence and suitability of Chardonnay in the Langhe, the pressure on the region’s biodiversity – and much, much more.  We’ll be publishing more in the coming weeks and months, as well as shining a light on the wines of the region – one that should be part of any collector’s cellar. But, as with the wines here, there is so much to consider. As Nicola Oberto of Trediberri told us, “It doesn’t need to be obvious – it needs to be interesting.” And that, the endless nuance and complexity, is what makes the region’s great Nebbiolo so enchanting.  Keep an eye out for more on Piedmont over the coming months or browse all current listings from the region 

Just returned from a whistlestop tour of Barolo and Barbaresco, Sophie Thorpe mulls the complexity that defines the Langhe, and makes it so endlessly appealing

Just returned from a tour of Barolo and Barbaresco, Sophie Thorpe mulls the complexity that defines the Langhe, and makes it so endlessly appealing

The allure of the Langhe’s Barolo and Barbaresco

The allure of the Langhe

“People seem to like it,” says Callie Louw in his thick Afrikaans accent. The winemaker behind Porseleinberg shrugs, casual about his wine’s success. Since its first vintage in 2010, this Swartland Syrah has rapidly become one of South Africa’s best and most sought-after, much to his bemusement, it seems.  The 173-hectare estate is rugged and wild, sitting atop the Porcelain Mountain (Porseleinberg in Afrikaans) in the Swartland. The first vines had been planted here in 1997, with wines previously marketed under the Schonenberg label. Louw first came across the site while at Rustenberg, who sourced fruit from there – the bunches and individual berries were so tiny that Louw thought at first that the owners weren’t giving them the best fruit (although he may not have put it so politely). But those miniscule bunches were all these rocky schist soils, with almost no topsoil, could muster. However small the yields, the quality and concentration was enough to convince Marc Kent (Managing Partner and Technical Director at Boekenhoutskloof) to buy the farm in 2009 – and he approached Louw, who was then working at Tulbagh Mountain Vineyards (now Fable Mountain Vineyards), to develop the property.  The team instantly set about a massive planting program and there are around 90 hectares under vine today. Most of the fruit was destined for Boekenhoutskloof’s flagship wine, The Chocolate Block, but with 4.5 hectares of older plots and a ramshackle shed-cum-winery, Louw – with Kent’s blessing – decided to do something different, and Porseleinberg was born.  “It’s a really special site,” Louw says, explaining how the vines sit on almost pure bedrock with just a skin of topsoil over the blue schist. “We’re effectively farming little bonsais here.” It tells you just how challenging this site is that only half the vines they planted in 2009 survived; but the results are clearly worth the effort. And they weren’t the first to recognise the site’s potential – as well as Rustenberg (where Adi Badenhorst was then winemaker), Eben Sadie had sourced fruit from the property for Columella in 2000 and 2001. While the wine came originally from just 4.5 hectares, today there are 14 dedicated to Porseleinberg, with the first of the younger vines coming on stream from 2013. When Louw arrived in 2009, the vines were dry-farmed – and he managed to get 3.5 tons/hectare of fruit in 2010. But the yield was a tiny two tons the following year; it was clear that dry-farming just wasn’t an option for this site, the soils too poor to hold onto the water – if the skies even gave any. “Schist is actually spelt wrong, it’s supposed to be s**t,” Louw says, laughing. Despite the need to irrigate, he’s well aware of the costs involved – particularly given any water they use needs to be pumped seven kilometres and up the mountain. During the drought between 2016 and 2018, the river they use for irrigation dried up, Louw’s house water ran out in May – and police were patrolling water sources. There’s no avoiding how precious a resource water is here.  The site had been farmed organically and Louw continued this, however in 2016, when they looked to plant another 45 hectares, he wanted to make sure that he gave these new plantings the best chance – and be able to farm organically in the long term. As of 2023, the property is once more certified organic, having been able to return to the process in 2020. And it is firmly in the vineyard that Louw focuses, feeling not just that quality comes from the vine – but from the soil, as he gradually looks to build the level of organic matter. “The only thing that I can do better is farm better,” he says.  The winemaking is relatively simple and hands-off (as Louw says, “I’m quite proudly lazy in the winery.”) – but has evolved over the years. Louw uses 100% whole-bunch, although the fruit is crushed lightly (previously by foot, now by being run through a pump) to avoid carbonic fermentation and its more confected aromas. The fermentations are all native, with alcohols generally sitting between 13.5 and 14%. Maturation is in a combination of foudre and concrete, and varied more over the first four vintages as Louw figured out what worked (with the 2010 and 2011 vintages aged in concrete only). While some of the early vintages spent up to two years in concrete and oak, he has reduced this to 12 months (from 2014), favouring more time in bottle prior to release instead.   Although the wines are decidedly fresh and balanced, the pHs are naturally high – between 3.7 and 4.1, with most vintages sitting at the higher end of that spectrum. Given the risks of bacterial spoilage that this brings, SO2 levels are relatively high (around 100ppm total) – something Louw feels is essential for wines that are absolutely built to age. And that’s something that has long set Porseleinberg apart.   “I’m still wearing the pants I bought in 2004 – I know nothing about style,” Louw jokes. There’s no shortage of brilliant new-wave South African wine, however most are built to be open and approachable in their youth – not necessarily glou-glou, but leaning into the lighter style of reds that has become fashionable. Porseleinberg was, at least at first, decidedly not. The earlier vintages are stern and serious, and need(ed) significant time to resolve and soften – it’s that style (whether Louw would describe it as such or not) that has earned the wine the moniker “Cape Cornas”, a style that is both thanks to the natural intensity of the low-yielding site and Louw’s love of old wine.  But the 2018 vintage brought a significant shift – one that has taken Porseleinberg to new heights. Louw visited a friend who was working at Domaine Jamet, and saw how rather than using punch-downs or pump-overs, they submerged the cap throughout the fermentation and maceration, allowing them to extract more gently. Most winemakers might have trialled the technique on a parcel, but not Louw – who says, frankly, “I put my chips all in.” He returned to the Swartland and set to work, making his own plates to hold the cap in place during fermentation. Fortunately for him, the gamble paid off.  The more recent vintages display more perfume, precision and finesse, without sacrificing the almost fearsome structure that makes them so age-worthy – and, as Louw says, it means he does even less work in the winery (“I fit about one more beer in a day,” he says, smiling). While earlier vintages were more about their tannic framework, the fruit, Louw suggests, is more present now – covering the tannins in the wines’ youth.  When I ask Louw if he wishes he’d used the submerged-cap technique from the start, his answer is no. “It’s amazing to grow up with the wine,” he says. And somehow that makes sense, for this is clearly a very personal project. Although Boekenhoutskloof might own Porseleinberg, it is run and managed totally separately. During our conversation and as we taste through a complete vertical, back to 2010 (the first time Louw has ever had the chance to do so), it is clear that this is not just a wine from this specific place, but also from this specific wine-grower. Over 12 vintages, the style evolves, the variation between years shining through, but the mineral backbone and structural imprint of this site remains. It’s a remarkable wine, and one that is only set to get even better as the vines age and Louw builds on his experience. Ignore it at your peril.  Tasting every vintage of Porseleinberg: 2010 to 2021 2010 Porseleinberg: From the original 4.5 hectares, the first vintage of Porseleinberg offers a savoury, bloody, iron-rich nose, with an edge of herbal, menthol notes and dried red fruit. The immense structure is still present, although the tannins have softened with over a decade in bottle. That structure is complemented by a bite of fresher, dark fruit and juicy acidity. Aged for 16 months in 65% foudre and 35% concrete.  2011 Porseleinberg: This wine still feels young, the nose brooding with dark fruit, leather and liquorice, the palate tightly packed with intense, black-berried fruit and a chalky grip of tannins. With the year’s conditions only two tons per hectare were harvested, the smallest crop ever from the site – and given the small volumes this was never released, with only 800 bottles made. Aged for 24 months in concrete egg.  2012 Porseleinberg: This is more supple and soft than the 2012, with a savoury and saline profile. There’s more elegance than the first two vintages, with dark, intense fruit yet with an appealing purity, complemented by notes of tobacco spice and liquorice allsorts. Only 2,760 bottles were made. Aged for 12 months in concrete egg.  2013 Porseleinberg: The fruit here is distinctly different – sweeter strawberry with a touch of herbal eucalyptus alongside savoury hints that point to the beginnings of tertiary development. It’s incredibly concentrated, structured and compact – a wine that is built for the long-haul. Aged for 24 months in 60% foudre and 40% concrete.  2014 Porseleinberg: The 2014 was one of the more open vintages in the line-up, from a particularly wet year and late harvest. The nose entices with an earthiness, a dusting of cocoa, deep red cherry and chocolate-covered strawberries. There’s a juicy purity to the palate with a chalky grip and savoury, smoky edge to the long finish. Aged for 12 months in 100% foudre.  2015 Porseleinberg: This is still a little reductive, and will benefit from additional time in bottle. As this reduction blows off, it reveals a fynbos-accented nose of dark fruit. From a cool vintage, the palate is a tight ball still – intensely mineral and chalky, with impressive purity, but it’s not yet revealing its potential. One to watch. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2016 Porseleinberg: The 2016 vintage brought the driest winter in decades and another tiny crop. The wine is full of sweet red fruit, but there’s a firm, stony minerality to the nose, as well as floral and spicy tones that give it lift. There’s a fine-boned framework here and gorgeous freshness. Aged for 12 months in 70% foudre and 30% concrete egg.  2017 Porseleinberg: The 2017 vintage is sweet and concentrated; offering both a swarthy dark profile and a sweet, red-fruited intensity. It’s tight and bold, with an iron backbone, firm tannic structure and a powerful finish defined by its dark fruit and minerality. Aged for 12 months in 70% foudre and 30% concrete egg.  2018 Porseleinberg: The 2018 vintage is the first in which Louw used the submerged-cap technique – and there’s an instant shift in the style of the wine. It’s brighter, more aromatic with more intense herbal and spicy notes, while the palate is layered with juicier, crunchy red fruit that masks the tannins. The finish is long, spicy and mineral. Superb. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2019 Porseleinberg: This vintage saw a break in the drought for South Africa, with rainfall around average and a relatively cool growing season. The nose here is dominated by herbs and spice – green peppercorn, dried rosemary and sage; leading on to a palate that offers pure red-berried fruit. There’s a mineral, chalky, furry grip of velvet tannins that frames the generous cherry fruit, with a saline mineral finish. Delicious. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2020 Porseleinberg:  The 2020 vintage was warmer and the wine speaks to that – with richer and darker fruit character that dominates its profile. The warmer conditions have added a polish to the wine, with more open feel, despite the trademark structure that sits behind the fruit. The wine is a little reductive at this stage, and needs more time to unfurl. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2021 Porseleinberg: The latest release of Porseleinberg is unsurprisingly impressive, but with a finesse that suggests it could be Callie Louw’s best vintage to date. A long, cool growing season with sufficient rainfall resulted in a leisurely harvest in 2021, allowing the team to take their time to pick. Since the shift to submerged cap in 2018, quality here has leapt ahead. The 2021 shows a spicy, mineral intensity – with the fruit more subdued, taking a backseat to the stony structure and texture of the wine. It’s supple, flowing across the palate like silk, yet with a super-fine grip of mineral tannins and the shy fruit that points to its immense age-worthiness. Savoury herbal tones mingle with the red fruit, while there’s a saline freshness and spicy pepper tones that linger on the long finish. Amazingly approachable now, it will only improve with a couple of years in bottle and continue to evolve over the next 15 years or so. Aged for 12 months in 95% foudre and 5% concrete.   Browse all current listings of Porseleinberg 

Porseleinberg has become one of South Africa’s most collectable wines. As the estate releases its 12th vintage, Sophie Thorpe tastes through a full vertical and talks to winemaker Callie Louw about what makes the site, and wine, so special

Porseleinberg is one of South Africa’s most collectable wines. We taste through a full vertical of the Swartland Syrah and talk to winemaker Callie Louw

An icon in the making – Porseleinberg

Porseleinberg: an icon in the making

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

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

Behind the scenes with Decanter’s Georgie Hindle

So far, so normal in the Scotch whisky world. What happened next is quite unusual. Not one of the experts – with decades of experience and dozens of book credits to their name – could so much as hazard a guess.   The answer to the seemingly simple but dastardly question dumfounded them all. The as-yet-unidentified liquid was a single grain Scotch whisky that had slumbered in a lone Sherry butt for 53 years. Now almost jet-black in colour, the single grain had taken on incredible, rich notes of dried fruits, roasted coffee, and muscovado toffee – and it was indistinguishable from a greatly aged single malt.   The Cask Trials, which is the name given to this highly unusual liquid that left some of the finest palates awestruck and not-so-secretly hoping for a bottle in their gift bag, is just one of the panoply of independently bottled House of Hazelwood releases from the Gordon family’s private Scotch whisky archives.   Somewhat surprisingly, you won’t find a single malt among them. These rare whiskies, which have been amassed over the past 100 years by the owners of Glenfiddich and The Balvenie, were released to the public for the first time in 2022 in two, painfully scarce, collections. The Charles Gordon Collection (all priced above £3,000 per bottle and aged for at least 40 years), and the Legacy Collection (priced between £950 and £2,000 a bottle) are all well-aged blended Scotch, blended grain and blended malt whiskies that have been matured in the most novel ways.   “Bringing old, expensive and unusual blended whiskies to the market is slightly counterintuitive,” House of Hazelwood Director Jonathan Gibson – who was instrumental in creating the range – candidly tells me. “It's not overly common within the industry.”  It’s also not overly common within the industry to bottle liquids of this age and provenance with playful names such as "Blended at Birth", "Sunshine on Speyside" and "The Old Confectioner’s", in understated packaging at these price points.  The liquids are undeniably scarce (once they’re gone, there really is no more) and old (few are under 40 years of age, and the oldest tops 50 years), but they are undeniably unusual and at odds with the highly successful formulaic approach others have followed of encasing precious liquids in highly ornate, priceless vessels that weigh more than a small child.    “They're not concept releases,” Gibson explains. “Everything is driven by the whisky. The packaging is quite straightforward. It's a nice bottle and it's classically engraved but we haven’t collaborated with the hottest designer. The idea is really just to give the whisky room, provide a platform, without overshadowing it,” he adds.   “Over the past 10-15 years – and it's no bad thing at all – you can see a lot more old age-statement single malts coming onto the market,” Gibson says, “And typically they're very straightforward in terms of their naming. It's distillery name, plus age statement equals a certain financial value.  “The naming of these releases is slightly playful, but actually if you look at them one by one, they're very straightforward. It's not quite a Ronseal, ‘it does exactly what it says on the tin’ approach, but it's not too far away from that. If you said ‘Blended at Birth’, it could be seen as quite playful but it's also quite descriptive and the same for ‘The First Drop’ and ‘Sunshine on Speyside’,” he explains.   It's clear Gibson, who has been involved in the project since the start, has genuine affection for the whiskies and the stories each one has to tell. He and the team are custodians of historical artefacts that the Gordon family have not parted with for the best part of a century.  “The First Drop”, for example, is named as such because it is the first liquid to run from the stills at the Gordon family’s Girvan grain distillery on Christmas day in 1964. This is the first and last time it can be purchased. “There's a real emotional tie from the family to these whiskies,” Gibson explains. “For the current family members, it's their dad who laid down these whiskies and he's not around anymore.  “I think it's actually quite difficult for the family to let some of these whiskies go, even though there's a begrudging acceptance that they can't drink such quantities and it was time they cut the cord and let these whiskies go out into the world.”  “There's a general principle that we're following where the whisky is ready to go when it's ready,” Gibson explains, “so we're not chasing down a 60-year-old age statement just so that we can put a big 60 on the bottle.”   It has been a pleasant surprise for all those involved to witness the reception the House of Hazelwood whiskies have received from an occasionally prickly and vocal audience.    “Sunshine on Speyside had an amazing response and it's one of the least expensive whiskies within our range,” Gibson says delightedly.   “It was selected because of its character and its flavour, and named because it has this amazing mango/ pineapple popsicle fruit character that transports you to sunshine and the Caribbean. It's one of those ones where everyone instantly agreed that it had to go into the first collection.   “I thought that everyone would be drawn to the oldest whisky at tastings but actually, this whisky captured the imagination of a lot of the writers and the trade.”   It’s hard to emphasise quite how unusual these whiskies are, as most releases – old or new – are described in hyperbolic terms.   “Blended at Birth”, which was released as part of the first collection, is a blend of malt and grain whisky that was married and matured as new-make spirit. Today, it is against the Scotch Whisky Regulations’ technical file to produce a whisky in this way, as you now have to age the malt and grain whisky components for a minimum of three years separately before blending them, so any liquids of this ilk on the market are painfully scarce.   “Unusual” and “esoteric” aren’t always necessarily loaded with positive connotations – you might take a sip of said liquid, politely smile and then return to something slightly less unusual and more palatable – but these whiskies have incredible balance and depth of flavour, in part because they are blends and not single malt whiskies.    “These old grains in particular are just unbelievable in terms of the flavour,” Gibson says with unfettered joy. “At a younger age, grain whisky is quite neutral in character but once you're past 30 years, if it's aged well, grain whisky has a luscious, delicious quality which adds so much to the final profile of the Scotch.    “The variation in style is enormous,” he continues. “I thought I understood old grain whisky but on exploring the inventory further you see these amazing grains that you didn't really know you could get.”   These whiskies wouldn’t have existed if it wasn’t for the foresight of the Gordon family  – and two brothers, in particular, who changed the company’s stars during the mid-20th century. The young Charles and Sandy Gordon brought much-needed vim and vigour to what could be a bit of a staid industry in the late 1950s. The pair famously refused to kowtow to demands from their grain whisky supplier – instead pulling the contract and setting up their own grain distillery, Girvan, in the 1960s. Charles – or Charlie as he was known – even forwent the comfort of his own home and instead lived in a caravan on-site during the build, riding a bicycle to stealthily check on the workers’ progress. His unconventional methods clearly paid off as the sizeable distillery (which still stands today) was built in a record nine-month period.  During their tenure, the duo also interrogated every aspect of whisky-making from distillation to maturation, resulting in the bold decision to employ an on-site coppersmith and cooper – which are still in situ at many of the William Grant distilleries today – to give the family more control. They were a formidable pair and the business arguably wouldn’t have survived some of the challenging periods in Scotch whisky’s history had it not been for their fortitude.     “There's something about family ownership that means you have a bit more luxury to maybe indulge some of your creative whims,” Gibson says with a wry smile. “This independence enabled them to explore ideas that might have been hard for others to justify to their board of shareholders.”  When other producers would have been forced to make very difficult decisions in order to survive those darker years, the larger, independent William Grant would have been slightly more insulated. Out of curiosity alone, they would have been able to hold on to barrels of maturing liquid and see how they developed over time.  These are the barrels that the House of Hazelwood team – and by extension us – now have access to. Each one has an incredible story – and an even better depth of flavour. With eight releases each year as a minimum – and the suggestion of some partnership releases to come as well – there is an audience, who count the great and the good among their numbers, desperate to venture into this unexplored and curious realm of blended Scotch whisky.  Read more Editorial and browse all whisky 

Few Scotch whisky releases have incited as much fervour and intrigue as the House of Hazelwood’s independent bottlings from the Grant family’s private cask library. Holly Motion caught up with Jonathan Gibson to discover why this emporium of curiosities is so tantalisingly unusual

Exploring the success of the independent bottlings from the Gordon family’s extraordinary private collection

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