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

“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

Anyone who’s had the misfortune of tasting a de-alcoholised version knows that alcohol is key to wine. Take it away and it leaves a gaping void in the glass – stripping the liquid of body and flavour. Those attempting to craft alcohol-free alternatives look to make up for its absence with sugar or flavourings, but the results don’t come close to the real thing. And of course the very fermentation process is key to complexity – there’s a reason we aren’t collecting single-site examples of even the finest raw grape juice. But alcohol’s a hot topic – and not just because of any health considerations. Trends and shifts in climate have seen the average ABV (alcohol by volume) inch upwards. Indeed, a report last year from Liv-ex suggested the average alcohol level has leapt almost an entire 1% for both California and Bordeaux since the 1990s. While once 14 or 14.5% might have been the purview only of the New World, it’s rapidly become the norm in Bordeaux. Rising temperatures are one element, as indeed is technology and know-how – harvesting cleaner, riper fruit and more efficient winemaking. Then, of course, there’s the fashion factor – the pendulum swing, arguably driven by Robert Parker, for bold, ripe, sweet and inevitably high-alcohol wines. “He loved that weight, that impression of sweetness,” Paul Hobbs tells me. “We jumped on the wagon – but we didn’t know what we were jumping on.” A cult name, Hobbs crafts some of Napa’s highest-scoring and most expensive Cabernets; indeed, Parker named him his Wine Personality of the Year twice. Born in New York State, the Davis-trained winemaker founded his namesake estate in 1991. He’d started his career at Robert Mondavi (arriving in 1977), working at Opus One and Simi before setting up on his own, with a flurry of personal projects and list of consultancies that has grown ever since. He openly admits that he got caught up in “Parkerisation”, crafting big, bold wines – no great surprise given the scores, and sales, that followed for those who did. But he’s been pulling back in recent years, and has never quite fit the cookie-cutout for the cult Cabernet crew. Ever since he first started making his own wines in the 1990s, he’s championed native yeasts (relatively radical at the time), and no fining or filtering. While he embraces oak, he’s always been aware that it’s the quality of fruit in the vineyard, preserved by operating a flawlessly clean winery, that is key to producing fine wine. Make no mistake that Hobbs makes rich, plush wines – and the alcohol levels certainly don’t sit at 12.5% – but for him there is much more to alcohol than one number. “I didn’t give much thought to it in the beginning,” Hobbs says. “And there wasn’t really much reason to.” When he was at Mondavi, the wines tended to sit at 13.5% – but then they started to go up. “There was a time when 16% was normal,” he confesses with some amazement. “Some of these wines were difficult. They didn’t age. They would get tired,” Hobbs says. “But all that took us time to learn – no one had ever been in that domain before.” He notes that there was “a backlash” in the British press against wines that didn’t please the palates of “the Hugh Johnsons, the Jancis Robinsons and Anthony Roses”; a response he clearly feels was a little unjust. “It’s far more complex than a simple number,” he says. “15 isn’t always 15.” And it’s true – alcohol doesn’t feel the same. How many times have you looked at the label of a wine and been surprised – either for better or worse? Alcohol is one element working in tandem with a wine’s body, concentration and flavour complexity – and there’s no easy figure to tell you how it integrates with these other components. But there’s another key reason why the same alcohol level can seem so different: the nature of the alcohol. The main alcohol in wine is ethanol (a molecule with two carbons), however fermentation produces other types of alcohols – specifically superior or higher alcohols. Often known as fusel oils – from a German term “Fusel” which is colloquial for low-quality booze – these alcohols have three to six carbons in their molecular form and are significantly more viscous (hence “oils”).  While ethanol is pure and relatively neutral, these heavier superior alcohols can – in low volumes – bring flavour, texture and interest. “It’s what makes something more than vodka,” Hobbs explains. Hexanols can add herbaceous aromas; 2-phenylethanol gives a rose-like scent. But they’re also associated with headaches and hangovers. In the world of spirits, these fusel oils are what runs out of the still last – forming the “tails” of distillation, which are used to varying degrees depending on the type of spirit being produced. “Alcohol is alcohol? Well, yes and no,” says Hobbs. It's high numbers of these superior alcohols, he believes, that can make one 15% wine feel clumsy and lumbering, while another – with lower fusel oil levels – can carry the same ABV with ease. The production of these superior alcohols depends on many things – yeast strain, temperature, oxygen availability and acidity. In general, red grapes produce more of the compounds (which is partly why spirits tend to use white grapes as their base). But Hobbs thinks it ultimately comes back to the vineyard: he’s started noticing that if berries are heat-damaged, they produce more superior alcohols. “Our goal is to keep these superior alcohols as low as possible – and that’s just about harvesting not sun-damaged fruit,” Hobbs explains. Under the warmth of the Californian sun, it’s common to get sun damage early in the season, but shrivelled berries tend to fall off nascent clusters of their own accord; more concerning is fruit that can be damaged internally and then won’t go through véraison, which needs to be sorted out. Late in the season, Hobbs and his team look to walk through the vines and cut off any “shoulders” (the side cluster at the very top of a bunch of grapes) that have been exposed. With global warming, this is an increasing threat – and an element of climate change that is only now being considered. If grapes are sunburnt or shrivelled, they tend to struggle with fermentation, and the stressed yeasts produce more of the superior alcohols. “The wine is going to be fat and heavy on the palate,” says Hobbs. “You can lower the alcohol by adding water – but it doesn’t change its personality.” If the fruit is in good shape – he says – you simply don’t have that issue, even at 15.5%. And those wines, provided they’ve got the requisite balance, age amazingly. Rajat Parr (star sommelier turned winemaker) and Jasmine Hirsch (of Hirsch Vineyards) founded In Pursuit of Balance (IPOB) in 2011 to champion lighter wines that they felt “weren’t chasing after ratings from wine critics”. These “new California” wines (Jon Bonné published his book The New California Wine in 2013) tended to have lower alcohols and less oak – following the swing of the pendulum back the other way; an anti-Parker effort in many ways. I attended the last London IPOB tasting in 2016, catching the crest of the wave as the movement called it quits – feeling they’d achieved their aim of building the reputation of an alternative California. Paul Hobbs arguably sits at the opposite end of the California wine spectrum (“Should all wines be 13.5%?” he says to me, “Why is that the magic number?”) – but philosophically, they’re surprisingly aligned. It’s not about the number, it’s about the balance – and Hobbs, like any posterchild of the new California movement, will tell you that the secret lies in the vineyard. The challenge is to farm and pick the perfect fruit – to find the sweet spot between flavour, sugar and phenolic ripeness. As Hobbs says to me, “That’s the dance between man and nature.” Forget the maths; this is farming. A note on the numbers Strictly speaking, the alcohol level on any label isn’t exactly what’s in the bottle. For wines sold in the EU and UK (both those made here and imported), producers are given 0.5% leeway – meaning that what’s on the bottle is generally reflective of its contents. In the US and Australia, however, wines sold domestically can differ by as much as 1.5% from the label – meaning a wine labelled as 14% could be anything from 12.5 to 15.5%. Browse all Paul Hobbs listings or discover more Editorial

With climate change and the influence of Robert Parker, it’s undeniable that we’ve seen a rising tide of alcohol levels. But there’s much more to the conversation than a simple number – as we discovered tasting and talking with Paul Hobbs, one of Napa’s leading names

The Napa winemaker Paul Hobbs on how we perceive alcohol in wine and why the alcohol level on any label isn’t exactly what’s in the bottle. 

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