Honeysuckle, peach, jasmine. Ripe, perfumed and exotic, viscous and heady – but, at its best, with a mineral, saline line and phenolic grip that keeps its hedonism in check. Condrieu is a wine like no other – and one that couldn’t be much less fashionable if it tried.  And yet, its top bottlings are incredibly hard to find. The likes of Georges Vernay’s Coteau de Vernon or Guigal’s La Doriane fly out on release. Chapoutier’s Coteau de Chery is absorbed effortlessly by France’s finest restaurant wine lists. The iconic Château-Grillet has almost vanished from the world of retail since it was taken over by Artémis. Production might be limited – but it’s also clear that there’s more than enough demand for these very special wines from the Northern Rhône.  The appellation and its unique expression of the Viognier grape has a rocky history. The Romans were the first to cultivate vines in this corner of the Rhône Valley – and they’ve been there ever since. By the 17th century, the wines from the steep slopes around the village of Condrieu were renowned throughout France. In 1853, there were 143 hectares of vines in the region – but then plague and pest arrived: powdery mildew swept through the vines, swiftly followed by phylloxera, decimating vineyards across Europe. With two World Wars, as well as the industrialisation of the valley, the workforce fled the vines for more stable, salaried factory work: looking up at the back-breaking angle of its slopes, entirely unmechanisable, it’s easy to see why the region’s vineyards were almost entirely abandoned. When the Condrieu Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) was created in 1940 (encompassing the villages of Condrieu, Vérin and Saint-Michel-sur-Rhône), just six hectares of vines remained.  Only eight of the potential 170 hectares were planted in the 1960s and Condrieu’s future looked uncertain. But one vigneron was quietly working to change that.  Georges Vernay – whose father Francis Vernay had helped create the appellation after planting his family’s first vines on the Coteau de Vernon in 1937 – believed in the alchemy between Condrieu’s biotite granite slopes and the Viognier grape. At the time, the region was best-known for its stone-fruit – with a kilo of peaches worth significantly more than a kilo of grapes. (The area is still known for its fruit today, Jean-Marc Roulot sources the apricots for his eau de vie and liqueur from the Rhône.) When Georges Vernay uprooted orchards to plant Viognier, people called him a fool.  “No one believed in Condrieu anymore, or in Viognier anymore,” Philippe Guigal – the winemaker and third-generation at the helm of his family’s company – tells me. Philippe’s father Marcel was another pioneer of the region, persisting in making fine wine from the region’s uneconomically steep terraces.  Vernay kept his faith too – championing Condrieu, but also Viognier. Almost all the Viognier in the world was planted in Condrieu at the time, and Vernay supplied cuttings to those outside the region – encouraging others to plant this distinctive grape. At the same time, he championed the region with his age-worthy wines, especially the now-iconic Coteau de Vernon.  By 1986 there were still only 19 hectares of Condrieu planted, but Vernay’s battle started paying off – wine-lovers fell for Condrieu’s rich, textural whites and plantings rocketed. There were 38 hectares of vines by 1992 and 217 by 2024. But it wasn’t just in the Rhône that Viognier finally found its footing – plantings appeared in the Ardèche, the Languedoc, Australia, California (especially with the wave of Rhône Rangers, led by Randall Grahm) and beyond. Viognier’s lustre had been restored.  Although now much more widely planted, it’s only in Condrieu that Viognier reaches such heights. Here, on steep terraced slopes in this hallowed corner of the Rhône, the vines sit almost directly on the granite bedrock – a specific type of granite laced with biotite, an iron-rich black mica. It’s this biotite granite that defined the original Condrieu appellation created in 1940 – encompassing vineyards around the villages of Condrieu, Vérin and Saint-Michel-sur-Rhône. The monopole appellation Château-Grillet (sadly unable to comment for this feature) sits within Condrieu, classified four years prior, and sharing the same biotite granite. The iron in the soils is key, lending much-needed tension to the potentially flabby Viognier.  Finding – and keeping – that tension is key to the best Condrieu. And it isn’t about acidity per se, but a sense of freshness.   For Emma Amsellem – who works alongside her mother Christine Vernay at Domaine Georges Vernay, “It’s a combination of different things.” She attributes much to their farming (which is both organic and biodynamic), as well as working with old vines and low yields (normally around 27-30hl/ha). Maxime Chapoutier – who works alongside his larger-than-life father Michel Chapoutier at the eponymous empire – echoes how important vine age is for Viognier, much more so than Syrah or Marsanne, he says. He finds Viognier starts to produce fruit of significantly more complexity at 20-30 years of age, but the vines can also lose interest if they’re too old.   “The beauty of the balance of Viognier comes from its dry extract – from its bitterness,” he explained. It is, Chapoutier says, the hardest grape to pick – harvest too early and you won’t have the necessary dry extract, but harvest too late and the aromatics are too much. Ansellem also emphasised the importance of picking date: although you want to retain as much natural acidity as possible, you also need Viognier to be sufficiently ripe – and the window is getting smaller and smaller with climate change.  The challenge, as Philippe Guigal puts it, is to keep the richness, the full expression of Viognier, as well as its drinkability and salinity. He introduced a Champenois-style cycle, very long and slow, for their Condrieu – something that helps bring out the grape’s aromatics and structure, a concept echoed by both Ansellem and Chapoutier, working with Viognier’s natural thick skins. Chapoutier also highlighted the importance of oxygenising the must and then racking as little as possible, retaining the lees to help build on the grape’s “noble bitterness”.  Guigal is also particularly careful with fermentation temperatures, feeling it is key to keep ferments under 12°C to avoid any potentially heavy aromas.  It's that dry extract that allows top Condrieu to age so beautifully too. Chapoutier explains how he likes to wait at least five years before opening their Coteau de Chery, but it can age for 25, developing more layers of complexity – with notes of honey, lanolin, gingerbread and dried citrus peel. “A great Condrieu is a wine that doesn’t taste of Viognier,” he says.  Tasting through a flight of the region’s top wines last week was fascinating – from Chapoutier’s remarkably fresh, floral Coteau de Chery to the decadent yet mineral Coteau de Vernon from Georges Vernay. More than anything was perhaps seeing the response from those tasting – the wines far surpassing their stereotypical expectations. Not all the haters left lovers, but they certainly had a newfound respect for the style; and those that were already fans fell even harder for its charms.  There’s next to no room for further plantings in Condrieu, largely thanks to Georges Vernay’s efforts championing the region, and quality in the appellation is higher than ever before. The style of its heady wines will always be divisive – and perhaps that’s a good thing given how limited production of the best wines is. Its cool credentials may not quite have caught up yet, but it’s time to open up to the region’s opulent embrace – you won’t regret it.  Top Condrieu cuvées to look out for  Chapoutier’s Coteau de Chery: From a single parcel of vines between 40 and 80 years in age, this is aged entirely in old oak (larger, 600-litre casks). Production is tiny (often only two barrels) and goes almost exclusively to restaurants in France.  Georges Vernay’s Coteau de Vernon: This is just a stone’s throw (100m or so) from Vernay’s other single-vineyard, Les Chaillés de l’Enfer (literally meaning the terraces of hell, for its steep south-facing slopes). From the region’s most famous pioneer, the vines were planted in the 1930s and 1960s, in a natural amphitheatre, producing a profound expression of Viognier that ages beautifully.  Guigal’s La Doriane: Guigal’s top Condrieu is a blend of their top five parcels across the appellation, averaging 35 years in age, matured in 100% new oak – which is seamlessly integrated with the concentrated and powerful fruit.  Château-Grillet: The tiny monopole appellation covers 3.5 hectares of vines. Owned by the Artémis group (owners of Ch. Latour) since 2011, its wines are some of the most sought-after in the world, largely disappearing into wine lists.  Yves Gangloff’s Condrieu: Renowned for its voluptuous style, in all the best ways, this bottling from this famous winemaker is rightfully prized.  André Perret’s Chéry: Known also for their Clos Chanson cuvée, Chéry also comes from the Coteau de Chery, from a three-hectare plot of 70-year-old vines.  Ogier’s Les Vieilles Vignes de Jacques Vernay: Only 125 cases are made of this wine per year, making it incredibly hard to find.  Marie & Pierre Benetière’s Condrieu: Possibly even harder to find than their astounding Côte-Rôties, Pierre was inspired by and studied under Vernay before making his own wines.   Explore all current listings of Condrieu or read more Editorial 

The epitome of Viognier, Condrieu makes some of the world’s most remarkable wines – yet this appellation in the Northern Rhône came close to disappearing. Sophie Thorpe dives into its brush with fate and how producers manage Viognier’s natural hedonism to create wines that stand the test of time 

Condrieu’s wines are better than ever. We talk to Georges Vernay, Guigal and Chapoutier about the appellation’s comeback 

Condrieu’s comeback with Vernay, Guigal and Chapoutier 

Condrieu’s comeback 

Lebanon's lost legacy: viticulture Despite being more southerly than the great wine regions of Europe, the Beka'a’s elevated altitude on average around 1000m above sea level – means that it’s a full 10ºC cooler than Lebanon’s Mediterranean coastline. The climate is positively European with wet, often snowy winters and warm, dry summers. It’s very well suited to winemaking, a local craft that dates back millennia. Lebanon itself is geographically situated in the cradle of civilisation. It was here, even before
the Greeks and Romans emerged as dominant cultures in the Mediterranean, and the Canaanites (later known as Phoenicians), peace-loving traders from the Levant, established some of the earliest known well-organised cities: the trading ports of Byblos, Sidon and Tyre. Phoenician culture was at its peak between 1500 and 300BC – a period that saw them explore and dominate the Mediterranean, developing trade routes, setting up outposts and cities as far afield as North Africa (Carthage, now Tunis, Tunisia) and the Iberian peninsula (Gadir, now Cádiz, Spain). The word ‘Phoenician’ directly connects the people of the Levant with both an impressive entrepreneurial spirit and an awe-inspiring work ethic. More precisely, it is an exonym originating from ancient Greek that describes Tyrian purple. This highly prized dye was a major export of the Canaanite port towns, in particular Tyre, hence the name. The labour-intensive production of the colour involved collecting the mucous secretions of thousands of sea snails. 12,000 snails yield a paltry 1.5 grams of dye – which is why it was so highly prized and the clothes it coloured were reserved for royalty. Tyrian purple was not the only ingenious product that the Phoenicians exported. Their legacy also includes the invention of glass-blowing techniques, and the development of the very first abstract (non-figurative) writing system (from which the Greek alphabet was derived) is credited to the Phoenicians and their Canaanite ancestors. It was almost certainly developed primarily to keep records of sales and ultimately function as an essential accounting tool. We also have the Phoenicians to thank for the word ‘Europe’ – which comes from their word ‘Erob’ meaning ‘where the sun sets’. While it is thought that the world’s first-ever wine was made over 8,000 years ago in the Caucasus Mountains between the Black and Caspian Seas to the northeast of the Levant, it was the Phoenicians that produced, exported and made famous the ‘fragrant wines of Lebanon’ mentioned in the Bible’s old testament (Hosea 14:7). And with their grip on Mediterranean trade, they marketed it and exported it along with, crucially, the knowledge of how to make it. The agricultural treatises of Carthaginian writer Mago, (thought to be writing around 350 BC) were among the most important early texts in the history of wine to record ancient knowledge of winemaking and viticulture. It’s important to remember the function of wine in society in Phoenician times. It wasn’t just a drink. It was, rather like the Tyrian purple dye, complicated and labour intensive to make, exceptionally highly prized and valuable and not just because of how it tasted – but because of its effect and function.  Biomolecular Archaeologist Professor Pat McGovern at the University of Pennsylvania Museum is a specialist in fermented beverages and his research reveals more about wine in Phoenician life. “The wines of ancient Lebanon and Syria,” he says, “were much more than a technological marvel. They were the social lubricants to break down barriers, stimulate music and the arts and bring people together. They were the supreme religious symbol for prosperity and well-being, in life as well as death. And they were the medicines for dissolving and dispensing botanicals, to rest the weary, relieve pain and cure disease.” Taking their wine to the Pharoahs of Egypt and further west to Portugal to trade it for local silver and tin, Phoenician winemaking equipment has been discovered in Valepeñas in Spain. As Phoenicians established Cádiz (Spain) as early as 1100BC, it is most likely that Phoenician wines – not Roman wines – were the forerunners to sherry. Perhaps the most enduring legacy of these seafaring traders was, in fact, the propagation of ancestral grapevines from the Levant that ampelographers believe gave rise to several modern grape varieties in Europe. According to research published by the University of California-Davis on the Integrated Viticulture Online Database, the French wine grape Mourvèrde may have first been introduced to the wine region of Catalonia around 500BC. By 64BC, Seleucid Syria and Lebanon had been annexed to the Roman empire by emperor Pompey. Peace and prosperity followed as the people of Byblos, Tyre and Sidon were granted Roman citizenship. Trade boomed and new wealth generated from exports of cedar, pottery, jewellery, perfume, purple dye and wine to Rome, enabled an era of widespread construction and urban development. One of the building projects the Romans invested in at this time was the enhancement of the already millennia-old temple complex at Baalbek in the Beka'a Valley. At a site which the Greeks and the Romans referred to as Heliopolis 'the City of the Sun' (where Phoenician god Ba’al had once been worshipped), the Romans rebuilt and reconsecrated the temples to their gods Jupiter, Venus and Bacchus, gods of wine, fertility, ritual madness, festivity, dance and theatre. The 700-acre site remains, to this day, the largest and best preserved Roman temple complex anywhere in the Empire. How the ancients moved the 800-ton quarried stone blocks that form the base of the temples still baffles the world’s brightest engineers. The temple to Bacchus at Baalbek is a monument to the importance of wine in the region, and the site became a symbol of Lebanon itself in the 1960s, thanks to the cultural impact of the Baalbek International Festival. Established in the mid-1950s, the festival brought celebration, theatre, music and dance back to the site through performances by international music stars and, crucially, nurtured and celebrated home-grown talent, perhaps most famously Fairouz and the Rahbani Brothers who became huge stars in Lebanon and right across the Arab world. Lebanon’s potent winemaking heritage is not lost on the makers of Chateau Musar. Far from it. As well as its vineyards in the Beka'a, the winery also grows vines near Byblos and the Hochar family’s charismatic winemaker, Tarek Sakr, is as passionate about the history of the land as he is about the grapes he grows there. “Byblos has been known since Phoenician times as an exporter of cedar wood and wine,” he enthuses. “Vines were cultivated in the hills surrounding Byblos, fermented in stone vats dug into the landscape. Then, the wine was put in Canaanite jars (these were the predecessor of the Greek amphora – yes, Phoenicians invented these too), sealed with resin to stop oxidation, and taken to the harbour for export.” Tarek also tells of a recently discovered archaeological site in the village of Edde a few kilometres from Byblos. “The site suggests that most of the hills near the city have been growing vines for thousands of years. This makes sense as the place where our nearby vineyards are located, on a hill overlooking Byblos, is called Vines Passage. You can smell the history of winemaking here. This is undoubtedly the birthplace of viticulture.” While he has spent many years planting and tending to its vines as an integral part of the Musar winemaking process, Tarek’s knowledge of and connection to the land and its ancient traditions run even deeper than his many years of experience. The result of a DNA test found that he is genuinely of Phoenician descent. It would seem that when it comes to Lebanon’s unrivalled contribution to the world of wine, we still have much to thank the Phoenicians for. Explore more Editorial 

Most of Chateau Musar’s vines are grown in Lebanon’s Beka'a Valley, a fertile plain about 30km east of Beirut, situated between Mount Lebanon on the west and the Anti-Lebanon mountains to the east. 

Most of Chateau Musar’s vines are grown in Lebanon’s Beka'a Valley. We look into the viticultural legacy of the region and the impact of the cultural heritage

The wines of Lebanon

The wines of Lebanon: a phoenician phenomenon

In some parts of the wine industry, oak has almost become a dirty word. Many winemakers eschew its use, seeing it as something that homogenises varieties and styles with its overbearance, given its potential to dominate a wine’s final flavour. The use of new barriques in particularly has become less and less popular in varieties that are more prone to oxidation and whose delicate aromatic nature is lost to the perfume and spice of toasted oak. This certainly seems to be the case for the Italian varieties Sangiovese and Nebbiolo, for which there is a decided swing back towards more traditional, larger, old oak vessels that do not impart oak flavour to the wine.  Although Burgundy’s Pinot Noir and Chardonnay have a great affinity to new oak, its use is declining significantly. Today in the world of fine wine, terroir is the trumping card and if new oak is a barrier, then its use starts to be questioned – but the Bordelais have long been strong affiliates to long ageing in barrique and the additional complexity that this brings wine.   Amongst Bordeaux’s elite, there remains a strong endorsement for the continued dominance of oak. Hugely influential producers such as Ch. Margaux have no qualms about using 100% new oak. Winemaker Philippe Bascaules believes criticisms of overusing new oak are due to “the weakness of the wine” – rather than the power of the oak. For Bascaules, “The most important quality it brings is the evolution of the tannins,” – and this is something he is not willing to give up. After many years of experimentation, Ch. Palmer's Thomas Duroux (another of the region’s leading names) also believes the oak barrique is the vessel that best develops the tannin structure of a wine. For him, the 225-litre barrique provides the perfect ratio of wine to wood and level of oxygen exchange for “building the wine”, and thus creating more structural complexity. But for some vignerons, new oak does has its limits. Duroux himself is well aware of new oak’s ability to overpower other flavours and he tries to maximise structure, while not losing the primary fruit character and aromatic complexity of the wine during oak ageing. He has come to his own conclusion that the best approach is to age the wine in two phases.  From November to July, he ages the wine in 225-litre barriques (either new or one-year old oak). Then from the July after harvest to the following July, the wine is transferred to larger oak foudres (2,900-litre barrels). Duroux describes this second phase as, “the refining period, where the wine becomes more integrated, more delicate – without taking on oak flavour or oak tannin”. He started trialling this method in 2017 and now Palmer has 20 foudres in operation. For the 2020 vintage, 30% of the wine has been aged this way. Bruno Borie (Ducru-Beaucaillou), however, feels that the reason for using new rather than old oak is often misunderstood. It is not the flavour that is important, but the cleanliness of the vessel. With wines such as the reds of Bordeaux, where pH levels are fairly high, it only becomes more important, since the wines are prone to bacterial spoilage, something that plagued the region in the 1980s and ’90s.  “We don’t sell wood, we sell wine,” Borie says. “We just use new wood because it is clean and sterile.  Brett [Brettanomyces, which causes bacterial spoilage] is so dangerous.” Older barrels are difficult to clean effectively after use, agrees Margaux’s Bascaules, and when a barrel is beyond a year old, the risk of microbial spoilage simply becomes too high. For Duroux, the older barrels also develop a sulphate compound which can “dry out the wines”.   Oak flavours are undoubtedly integral to the flavour of Bordeaux – but even its strongest supporters are today more open to understanding and better controlling its effects. Although Bascaules has no plans to change how Margaux is made, he is excited to learn what the wine would taste like without oak.  Over many years working at the château, this is something he has never experienced and still does not know. He has plans to experiment with glass amphorae, the idea being that by knowing what Margaux tastes like without oak, it will help him better understand how different elements bring flavour to the wine. “Many flavours people assume are from oak are not,” he says. “Cabernet Sauvignon, for instance, can produce coffee-like flavours. Often it is the reaction of oak and fruit that creates the flavours together.” Using these new glass amphorae will bring a better understanding of Margaux’s DNA – or at least this is what he hopes. Borie also notes that long oak maturation is essential for extending the ageing potential of the wine, something alternative vessels simply cannot do. “We make wine for collectors, wines that can be cellared for decades. Bordeaux’s ageing potential is very important, it is one of its signatures,” he says. Since 2003, Borie has extended the time Ducru-Beaucaillou spends in oak from 12 to 18 months to further extend the wine’s 
longevity. “Longer maturation in oak brings a special textural complexity, a different level of integration – a melding of tannins,” he explains.  But there are others in Bordeaux committed to oak alternatives. One of the region’s top châteaux that has made a significant switch from oak is Ch. Pontet-Canet, which has been ageing 35% of its wines in concrete amphorae since 2012. For Pontet-Canet’s Justine Tesseron, “Too much oak hides too much of the fruit flavour.” The clay amphorae, she feels, “help to keep the freshness of the fruit and keep the purity of the wine”. Happy with the results, Tesseron is considering increasing its proportion in the future, convinced they aid them in retaining “a pure expression of what the terroir is giving us”.  But no one in Bordeaux is giving up on the oak barrel altogether. In fact, the strongest advocates of alternative vessels tend to think a combination of both is where you can achieve the most complexity. Guillaume Pouthier from Ch. les Carmes Haut-Brion is known as one of the more experimental vignerons in Bordeaux and was amongst the first to introduce clay and glass amphorae as an alternative to oak. He feels clay in particular is “very interesting” as it allows the same oxygenation as barrels but you keep the “freshness, you keep the first aromatics of the wine”. He has some 2018 still in clay amphora and it smells like it was just picked.   Ageing wine in glass containers, however, sees no exchange with oxygen, meaning “the tannins don’t evolve” and the resulting wine is “very pure”, something which he feels adds energy to a blend although can risk making the wine “too hard” if there’s too much. For Pouthier, small proportions of wine aged in clay or glass brings additional complexity to the wine, working in combination with oak-aged wine.   Despite these tentative steps into alternative vessels, some have been less than impressed with their experiments. Bruno Borie comically uses history as his guiding light: “Amphorae were used prior to the Romans. But the Romans introduced oak because they saw it as an improvement – they chose the gods of the forest. Being ancestors of the Romans, we should do the same.”  For the top growers in Bordeaux, such as Ch. Lafite, oak still remains an incredibly important element in their wine. With their own cooperage on site, they produce 90% of the oak they use each year, with the Grand Vin typically seeing 90% new wood. Lafite’s Jean-Sébastien Philippe believes that in addition to building volume in the wine, oak also adds important “aromatic and flavour complexity”. These additional layers of flavour are down to the skills of the cooper and, for him, are something that should be celebrated. “Light and delicate toasting – not vanilla or coconut – but toasted spice adds complexity to the wine,” he says. While Cabernet Sauvignon clearly has a great affinity to the barrique, Cabernet Franc and Merlot seem to have better results with larger oak foudres and amphorae. Nicolas Glumineau at Ch. Pichon Lalande is going to start trials with glass and concrete, having been really impressed by wines, in particular, aged in glass. “The more structured the wine, the better it is in terms of definition and tannic structure. I was impressed with the results with Merlot, but the Cab Franc was stunning,” he said.   Pomerol’s Ch. l‘Evangile is experimenting with ceramic jars, which they believe not only “preserves intensity, purity and freshness of the fruit, but causes a vortex [within the vessel] constantly moving the wine around, resulting in more contact with the lees, that brings a more rounded, silky texture to the wine” .  While their influence remains minor in the final assemblage, these new amphora advocates are convinced that their judicious use adds complexity to their wine – and oak alternatives look set to become a permanent fixture for many in Bordeaux. For châteaux, like L’Evangile, these experiments are happening in conjunction with a reduction in the percentage of new oak in recent years (from 80% to 50% for L’Evangile) and they are not alone.  Overall, despite the healthy levels of experimentation going on in the region, oak barriques still reign supreme in Bordeaux. In their trials with alternative vessels, many vignerons have fallen back in love with the unique properties of the oak barrique. While cement, clay and glass, as well as larger oak, will continue to play a minor role at some properties, it’s unlikely that the barrel will fall from favour anytime soon.  Read more about oak in Finding the balance: the art of the cooper or explore Bordeaux 

A region where producers were once known for using 200% new oak, Bordeaux has long championed the barrique. But at a time when winemakers around the world are looking to alternatives for ageing wine, we talk to Bordeaux’s leading names, asking whether their love affair with the barrique is over

Chx. Margaux, Palmer, Ducru-Beaucaillou and more on the Bordeaux region's relationship with the barrique – and why it may have fallen from favour

Bordeaux and its relationship with the barrique 

Is Bordeaux over oak?

Truffles: small, gnarly things. Equally ugly and alluring. Pungently intoxicating. Deliciously rare – and undeniably expensive. Alexandre Dumas described truffle as “the holy of holies”. Rossini called it “the Mozart of mushrooms”. Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin said just the name “awakens erotic and gastronomic ideas”. There’s something magical about the way these funghi lie just out of sight. The elusive treasures lurk beneath an otherwise unassuming forest floor, found only with the help of a specially trained hound. Once unearthed, however, they become the centrepiece to the world’s most expensive dishes, prized by Michelin-starred chefs and gourmands alike. They aren’t just another ingredient, however, there’s theatre to their presentation: the stage set in the kitchen, then served with a flourish tableside. For Rowan Jacobsen, author of the recently published Truffle Hound, one sniff was enough to keep him on the trail for three years. The Vermont-based writer was in Barolo in 2018 and on his way to the table, when he passed a giant white truffle under a glass cloche. Instinctively he lifted the dome: “I didn’t even make it to the table. Such a crazy smell. I was destroyed at the luncheon – I kept thinking about the truffle,” he tells me. That one flare of the nostrils had him hooked, and he’s been following truffle hunters around Europe ever since. His book follows his adventures – discovering “dreamers, schemers, and some extraordinary dogs” along the way. Piedmont is considered the home of the truffle – with the annual fair in Alba (running from October to December) the epicentre of the trade. White truffles (tuber magnatum), as found in Alba, are the crème de la crème of the truffle world – distinctly seasonal, flourishing in the autumn and winter. This brief window of opportunity is key to their appeal. As Donald Edwards, Head Sommelier at La Trompette, says, “What else can you have where the stopwatch of deliciousness is literally ticking by the table?” Of course, not all truffles are created equal. Black truffles are a third or a quarter of the price of white truffles and offer a very different aroma. Jacobsen describes “more pungent, more overwhelming” and “invigorating” scent of white truffle as “garlic, salami, almost gasoline” versus the “comforting, soothing, round” notes of “cured olives, cocoa and hazelnut” that he associates with black truffles. And while there is only one white truffle, there are two types of black truffle: the black winter truffle (or Périgord, tuber melanosporum, now mostly grown in Spain) and the black summer truffle (tuber aestivum, sometimes known as the Burgundy truffle but found all over northern Europe, including southern England). The latter, more widespread breed is not nearly as intense as its winter sibling, meaning more is needed for the same impact. One reason that white truffles carry such a premium is also that they have – so far – proven impervious to cultivation (although scientists in France have recently claimed to have cracked this). The truffle hunters, or trifulau, in Piedmont are therefore unsurprisingly secretive about where they find their treasure. Often speaking only a local dialect, these foragers roam the woods – often under the cover of darkness in search of “white gold”. Their dog will sniff their way to the right spot, pawing the ground and patiently waiting for their master to dig up their bounty. “It’s a billion-dollar industry totally dependent on dogs’ noses,” Jacobsen says, laughing at the absurdity. While the hunters might avoid the limelight, it’s not the case when it comes to their dogs, Jacobsen tells me. The canine connection is taken to the next level when you also depend on a four-legged friend for your livelihood. While pigs were the original snouts charged with sniffing out truffles, hunters switched to dogs in the 17th and 18th centuries. Lagotto Romagnolo is the “traditional” truffle-hunting breed (and comes with an associated premium, given their potential return), but today almost any dog is used. They simply need to be trained and have the right nose for the job. “Good ones are amazing,” Jacobsen tells me. “They can find a truffle 50 yards away in the forest and they just know it’s there.” Trifulau Luigi Rosso has been – along with his dog Danko (aged seven) – sniffing out the good stuff for 30 years. While it might look easy, he says that it’s incredibly difficult and can be dangerous for both hunters and their dogs, traipsing through forests in the dark. It is, however, all worth it for him. “The tranquillity that is in the air while you go for the truffles. The moon, the silence and only the sound of your footsteps on the damp leaves, then the joy of your dog when it finds one…” he tells me. The unique scent of truffle is what drives connoisseurs to seek them out – bidding on the finest examples for extortionate sums. “I feel like they've evolved to hit some deep pleasure receptors in our brains. When they're good you just want to luxuriate in them,” Edwards says. William Lowe MW – the man behind Cambridge Distillery – set about capturing the elusive flavours of truffle in his quest to create a digestif-style gin. The idea was born when looking at the digestif trolley in a Michelin-starred restaurant – and a sommelier who was scornful at the idea of a gin worthy of joining its ranks of fine Cognac and single malt whisky. “If you look at those rare and mature examples, you’ll see that the oxidative maturation process creates these beautiful earthy aromatic profiles sometimes referred to as ‘forest floor’. We wanted to achieve this profile through distillation rather than maturation, and truffles gave us the perfect route to do so,” Lowe says. “It took me a very, very long time. Because truffles are hard to deal with. They are packed full of volatiles, which is to say that truffles smell more than they taste,” the Master Distiller explains. “If you think it through – every time you open a door to a restaurant that is serving truffles, bang you get it straight away. But if you look at the food they serve truffles on and it’s always almost neutral dishes: creamy pasta, mushroom risotto. It’s never on super flavoursome dishes because if it is, you can’t taste the truffle anymore.” The challenge, however, was capturing something that doesn’t want to be caught, and finding the right level of truffle. “With truffle, chefs will normally do one of two things: either they’ll know you know it’s expensive so they’ll use loads of it so you can’t taste anything else for the rest of the meal – or they’ll do the opposite. They know that you know it’s expensive so they use so little that it’s the Emperor’s new clothes – you sort of have to search for it. It takes a genuinely skilled chef to use truffle well. And using it well is when you get all of that amazing aroma but you can still taste the other things.” This was what Lowe was aiming for – but it wasn’t easy. He spent months refining the distillation technique for truffle, but the flavour was only “ok”. He went back to the drawing board and decided that the problem was the truffle he was using – black wouldn’t cut it. “We went straight to Piemonte – white truffles from Alba. Gram for gram, worth more than gold […] and it came out and tasted a lot better than gold does so that’s an easy trade,” says Lowe. For trifulau Rosso, you need at least 10 grams on a dish (whereas, he says dismissively, restaurants will often only use a measly five) – with homemade tagliarini top of his list, although he also suggests trying it on panna cotta. He considers Pelaverga – a rare red variety that’s native to Piedmont – the classic pairing, but otherwise goes for one of the region’s other reds, Barbera, Barbaresco or Barolo. These are undoubtedly the classic pairings, following the simple rule of what grows together goes together. However, Jacobsen or Edwards don’t agree. “It couldn’t be more wrong. It really requires a white. The tannins clash with the aromatics,” Jacobsen says. The truffle specialist opts for Champagne, white Burgundy or cool-climate Californian Chardonnay – even Beaujolais. As for Edwards, he likes something that plays on the delicacy’s textural quality: “They work so well with buttery, umami-laden cheese sauces that I can't not want really classy Chardonnay. I want bâtonnage, I want really expensive but underplayed oak and I want ripeness with a gimlet-eyed stare of terroir behind. Basically, Burgundy, Mornington or the best of the Santa Rita Hills (I'll accept that other places also make perfect wines for this), plus if I can have a few years in bottle to build that sous bois flavour connection then all the better.” At the time of writing, we’re in the midst of the 2021 truffle season – one that has brought eye-watering prices. The hot, dry summer in Piedmont (unlike the wet conditions experienced in northern Europe) has led to a tiny crop – some say the smallest in history, driving prices up. Bloomberg has declared it “The Great White Truffle Crisis”. The white truffle needs such specific conditions that climate change, and – as Rosso tells me – the warmer autumns in Piedmont, pose a serious threat. While we consider Alba the spiritual home of white truffles, today most come from elsewhere. Both Central Italy and Le Marche, but also Romania, Serbia, Croatia and Hungary are all now hotspots for truffle hunting. Many of these regions are benefiting from the shift in climate, now having the ideal conditions to nurture the rare tuber magnatum. As for black truffles, the summer variety can now be found as far north as Sweden, but drought conditions mean that irrigation is becoming essential for existing orchards. Beyond climate, there are other challenges. In Piedmont, there are fewer forests than there once were, with more profitable vineyards replacing woodland (another reason that hunters are looking elsewhere). Also, the local trifulau are – in general – an ageing group. One truffle hunter, Carlo Marenda, has established a non-profit, Save the Truffle, to try and protect the region’s truffle hunting heritage – both by passing on the tradition to younger people and protecting the forests, nurturing the right environment for truffle growth. “It used to be that these forests were very actively used by farmers, peasants – fallen wood for firewood, leaves for animal bedding etc. So forests didn’t have a lot of undergrowth,” Jacobsen explains. “But then the world changed.” With the forest floor not being cleared, decaying matter acidified the soil – something that truffles hate. Truffles thrive in high pH soils, which is why they’re found on beds of limestone. To ensure the forests provide a welcoming home for the tubers, it’s essential they’re managed correctly. While there are certainly challenges to preserving the truffle’s place in Piedmont, the good news for gastronomes is that these tubers aren’t disappearing – just moving. After three years on the trail, Jacobsen is as enchanted by truffles as when he began. But he’s less keen on the hierarchy that comes with them. There are, he says, plenty more species of truffle beyond those currently on the market – but hunters can’t sell them, so keep them for themselves. He hopes the truffle culture will shift to grassroots foraging, rather than “waiters in tuxedos grating your precious morsel over your pasta”. However it reaches your table, it’s clear that the truffle holds a special allure – and the transience of its elusive scent, fading with the seasons, is what keeps us on the hunt. Truffle Hound is out now. Explore more Editorial 

Love them or loathe them, truffles are undoubtedly some of the most majestic ingredients on the planet. But, with a changing climate and an ageing cohort of specialist truffle hunters, the future of this rare delicacy is uncertain. Sophie Thorpe explores

Truffles are undoubtedly some of the most majestic ingredients on the planet. But the future of this rare delicacy is uncertain. Sophie Thorpe explores

Chasing truffles

Christian Patat is one of Italy’s busiest and most successful vignerons working with his wife at top Friuli estate, Ronco del Gnemiz, as well as working with Enzo Pontoni, vigneron extraordinaire, at the legendary Miani estate. He also works as a consultant winemaker for many properties producing wines from all over Italy. Most recently he has been involved in an old vine project with long-term friend and fellow Friulian, Marco Simonit – famed for his work protecting old vines all over the world most particularly at the legendary estates of Yquem, Leroy and Louis Roederer.

We caught up with Christian to talk more about L’Età Più Bella (With Age Comes Beauty), which is set to release its first collection of wines from top sites in Friuli next month. His insight into the Friuli region is a great starting point to understanding Italy’s mecca for white wine.
 Can you describe what you think is so special about the Friuli region for wine production?  "Friuli is one of the most complex scenarios in the wine world given the unheard of combination of grape varietals, soil identities and climatic challenges. I’ll try to explain from the inside. The wide number of varietals is provided by different waves of invasion, such as
the French (at the time of Napoleon) and the Austrians (in the same period of Napoleon
but they stayed for much longer); these invasions explain why we have so many 
Bordeaux varietals (Merlot, Cab Franc, Cab Sauvignon, Carmenere) and others of
French origin such as Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, Chardonnay and Sauvignon. "The arrival of these 'imported' wines did not cancel out the presence of local varietals such as Ribolla Gialla, Refosco, Schioppettino, Pignolo and Tocai Friulano. The Austrians also did their part leaving some Traminer and Riesling so that the picture is composed as it is today.  "Until the ‘60s, Friuli was a poor region and the vineyards were in the hands of small growers selling locally and with no real commercial plan and having the ability to offer a wide range of wines gave more options to sell to occasional customers. For this reason, the Friulians never gave up any of these varietals and when the DOC was finally in place they were all included.  "In terms of soils there is a significant difference between the flat appellations (Grave del Friuli, Isonzo, Aquileia) and the hillside appellations (Collio, Friuli Colli Orientali, Carso). The flat area is basically made of gravelly soils, the hillside is basically marl (locally called PONCA and geologically called FLYSH), obtained by the sea pushing in the direction of the mountains and creating slates of chalk, limestone and clay, all of which are agglomerated in various percentages and sometimes within the same vineyard, providing an incredibly complex subsoil.  "This complexity is augmented by the fragility of the structure which is very prone to erosion and obliges the growers to cultivate on terraces in order to minimize the impact of the water. This way of growing the plants generates very high costs and consequently low yields given the limited density of plantation (i.e. the average density on a modern planting in hillside Friuli can reach about 6.500 plants/ha which is much less than what can be achieved in Burgundy with an average of 10.000 plants/ha), and makes virtually impossible machine harvesting and other mechanical intervention.  "To complicate this picture, Friuli has the highest amount of rain in Italy which means that growing grapes can be a real challenge, but the ponca soil has a high degree of draining, so to avoid issues and diseases caused by excessive water close to the roots. All this being said, the real peculiarity comes from the soil itself which can be a magical balance of minerally driven characters, with enough structure to provide full-bodied wines and that’s the
reason why white and red varietals are grown in the same place." What varieties do you think perform the best in Friuli and why?  "You may have different answers if you ask different growers but personally I think that among white wines I would go for Friulano (Tocai) because it expresses very well the different sites and shows better than any other varietal the balance of richness and saltiness.  "Apart from Friulano I would pick Sauvignon Blanc because I see it as a possible third way
between Loire and New Zealand. More aromatic than in France with richer body
and more minerally driven than in New Zealand.  "And finally, if you are lucky enough to have well-aged vines Chardonnay can also do surprisingly well in cold sites. Among reds I would pick Merlot and Cabernet Franc given their tendency to ripen on the late side (same timing as Pomerol and Saint Emilion) and to
provide low yields and concentration without losing freshness and spice. Also, Refosco can do very well bringing a Syrah-like spiciness and a full body but it needs to be grown in very well-suited spots. Can you describe the last few vintages and qualify them?  
"2018 was a very sunny and dry vintage, driving to early ripening of some of the whites such as Sauvignon (starting date of harvest 23rd of August) but quite interesting for reds given that the month of September was quite fresh and dry so to give a larger window to pick the reds at the right level of ripening. 2019 was much cooler (starting date of harvest 1st of September) but quite ideal for whites with lively acidities and good concentration. Reds were also fine but some later rain in September affected a bit the possibility of fully ripe tannins so I would consider it as quite average." 
10 DOCs, 4 DOCGs, 30 different varieties, it can be difficult to know where to start exploring the wines of the region. Can you advise?  "Diversity can be fascinating but it can also turn into a nightmare given that you have to add also the wide difference of styles available (stainless steel crisp white wines, barrel fermented Burgundy oriented, orange wines with maceration on the skins…). I cannot really advise on this as I find all this diversity as a real limit to communicate the character of the region, but on the other hand I have to admit that there are very few wine regions in the world (maybe none) where you can find so many reasons of interest. That’s why more and more wine enthusiasts are travelling this way and fall in love with the complexity of these terroirs and
wines." 
Are all the fine wines of the region concentrated in one area or are they dotted all around?  
"90% of what we can call fine wines are made on the hillsides of Collio, Friuli Colli Orientali and Carso and very few are made in flat appellations such as Isonzo." 
Friuli-Venezia Giulia comes across as quite independent from the rest of Italy, why is this?  "I think a whole history of invasions (Romans, Longobardians, Venetians, Austrians, French) has created a sense of self protection. More than this after the Second World War Friuli has turned from a poor region into one of the very wealthy and productive areas of Italy, due to
the silent and consistent attitude for hard work of the Friulians. They have been able to turn it into a well-kept secret and make a pride of it." How long have you worked at Miani?  "I started in 1991 helping him in decision-making at the time of the final blending and taking on my shoulders all the commercial aspects that he did not want to manage." What makes the wines from these top wineries stand out?  "I don’t know if they stand out but what I can surely say that we both apply a tireless dedication and passion to what we do. We both consider single sites and soils more important than varietals and we have the ambition to 'bottle a place' more than a wine." Who has been your biggest inspiration in life and as a vigneron and why?  "My father, a real bon vivant, who put me in contact with great wines since I was still very young and created in my mind the quest for quality in every aspect of my life. My fascination for great wines came from him, just watching his excitement when receiving his annual allocation of Champagne Salon or Monte Vertine (to name a few) and the pleasure he used to take in sharing with friends.  "Then my wife who despite challenges, family issues, economical limitations never gave up looking for the best possible wine here at Gnemiz, loving this place and respecting it as a living treasure and not just as an instrument. Finally Enzo Pontoni at Miani who showed me how you can achieve your goals only with hard work and passion and how you can be the happiest man on earth just for the fact that you are doing exactly the work you want to do in the way you want to do it." How did you first get involved in L’Età Più Bella (With Age Comes Beauty), the old vine project?  "That was Marco Simonit's idea to involve me as we had experimented in the past and in some ways we started the project in the mid ‘90s, but at that time we were all too busy to follow up and we did not have a well-formed concept of what we could do… we were just youngsters…" What is so unique about the wines that have been produced under the L’Età Più Bella label?  "The goal was to explore the identity of various plots of very old vines, all of which were well placed with very good exposition and with an excellent quality of soil. The character which comes out from an old vineyard has a different kind of balance and texture, as we use to say, it is more a “wine of roots” than a “wine of sun”. That’s quite evident by the fact that old vines tend to ripen later than neighbouring young vines and suffer much less from potential water stress, producing more consistent wines of complexity and finesse. We were not looking for fruit bombs to impress but for refined and subtle characters and ageing potential."
 You are a philosopher and a jazz musician as well as a winemaker. Can you tell us more about these passions?  "That’s all too generous, in fact, I have none of these titles. I did not complete my studies in philosophy due to the sudden death of my father so I cannot call myself a philosopher. My passion for philosophy is due to my classics studies and when it was time to chose the University, my father suggested to go for philosophy because, he said, 'when you will
finish your study you will not find a job and can come to help me to sell some
wine!'  "That’s exactly what happened, just with the wrong circumstances. About jazz, I always wanted to become a piano player and I’ve studied a lot for this but in the end, I was not good enough to make a career and I quickly understood there was no point in dreaming of being the new Keith Jarrett, so I became a well trained amateur and I gave up playing in public.  "As for winemaking, I don’t have a formal education given that I had to work and did not have time to study at University, so I started a process of self-education in a kind of backwards process, from my instinctive ability to be a good taster, moving gradually to all the
knowledge which drives the production of wine, from the vineyards to the cellar.  "It took me years and the support of many friends who allowed me to verify my skills in their cellars. The results of my 'experiments' were very promising and convinced me to go deeper in my studies until the point of being able to take full responsibility for wine production as I’ve been doing for the last 20 years." Read more Editorial 

We caught up with Christian Patat to talk about his old-vine project with Marco Simonit – L’Età Più Bella – which will include its first collection of wines from top sites in Friuli this summer

Christian Patat on his old-vine project with Marco Simonit – L’Età Più Bella – which expands to include top sites in Friuli this summer

The wines of Friuli-Venezia Giuli

Christian Patat on the wines of Friuli-Venezia Giuli

Rome’s Baths of Caracalla fell into ruin in the 6th century. This illustrated reconstruction appeared in Hutchinson’s History of the Nations, published in 1915. Credit: Classic Images (Alamy Stock Photo). It took a shock to the system on the scale of the Covid-19 pandemic to demonstrate how much our lives can be reshaped by the humblest of objects. When restaurants, hotels, cafés and night clubs have all been closed for months on end – and when we are excluded even from each other’s homes – then park benches and patio heaters become stand-ins for the more elaborate architecture of everyday life that usually enable the interactions we depend on to function as social beings. For much of 2020, only the most rudimentary tools for conviviality were left to us. This works better at some times, than others. On a warm sunny day, all it takes to create an instant convivial space is a bench. This simple structure is the means for people to meet, share a view, a conversation, and perhaps a picnic. Add a back, arms, and a USB charger plus a Wi-Fi connection to the bench, and the proposition grows layers of complexity. It has become a people-attractor and a conversation starter too. This last year has helped us to understand better how to appreciate, through their absence, the things that make us the most human: being together, sharing food, drink and conversation, and marking the key moments in life. While we were forced into isolation, our attempts to replicate some of these experiences, with the use of a screen and a fitful broadband connection, showed us how inadequate they inevitably are. The experience suggests that social change, when it comes, is about an acceleration of what already exists – more than it is about a complete reinvention. Buying more online than we ever did in department stores is going to be a permanent shift. Some of us are less likely to fly to Australia for 24 hours for a business meeting than we were in 2019. But there are other things that will not change. We will still want to celebrate birthdays and weddings in the company of others. We will always want to meet our friends and look for chances to make new ones. And we enjoy doing all those things in the kind of spaces and places that make the most of the moment, which can make the seemingly routine into an occasion. Even at the basic level of the park bench, there are nuances to deal with. Chatting side by side is not the same experience as a face-to-face conversation. However, for some people, direct eye contact is as aggressive as an all-caps text message. It is why a walk in the park can be the best way to share a secret, and why Sigmund Freud conducted his consultations from behind the back of his couch. What we sit on is as significant as how we sit. In the average western living room in the 1960s, the armchair was the seat of power, occupied by family patriarchs. The matriarch, if she was lucky, got a slightly smaller version to herself. The sofa was designed in the same style, just large enough for two, and was for the use of supplicant sons-in-law. As the domestic world has expanded, so the sofa has taken on the dominant role over every other piece of domestic furniture. Sofas have been getting bigger for some time and are now reaching the size of lifeboats. They’re expected to cope with everything from conversation to work, assuming multiple roles as stand-in dining table, desk and bed. Social spaces, from the most intimate scale to the grandest, form an essential part of both our personal domestic worlds – in which we share our privacy with a selected group of friends and family – and the public one that we all share. It is a scaled sequence that runs all the way from a candlelit interior with a couple of chairs, a plain wooden table with two wine glasses, to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II in Milan, which, with its heroic iron-roofed arcade, has a strong claim to be regarded as the mother of all shopping malls. When it opened in 1877, the newly empowered bourgeoisie (in their straw boaters and stiff detachable collars) took to it as the setting for their daily promenades on the way to and from the Duomo, Milan’s cathedral, where they celebrated Mass, or en route to a performance of a Verdi opera at La Scala. Stopping to take coffee and pastries, they would meet each other for an aperitif at Biffi or dinner at Savini, and explore the exotic wares that the shops in the Galleria had to offer. As futurist artist Umberto Boccioni demonstrated in his painting from 1910, Riot in the Galleria, there was a darker side to such spaces. He portrayed the agitated response of a turbulent crowd of well-dressed spectators to the sudden violence of a fight between two women – sex workers perhaps. The disturbing scene, depicted in pointilliste style (and based on an incident that actually took place), is bathed in lurid electric light, evoking the frenzied atmosphere of this giant outdoor room and its extraordinary impact on the behaviour of a mass society. An unintended consequence of the lockdown has been the enforcement of the monogamy-based model of the nuclear family. It made the year particularly difficult for all those who don’t subscribe to it. We will need places we can dress up for again, places we can show off in, even places in which we can behave badly. The painting is, in some senses, a reminder that urban life is essentially about tolerance. Complex spaces have always been a vital part of urban life. Almost 2,000 years ago, the Romans built the Baths of Caracalla on a lavish scale, with three separate pools, libraries and gymnasia – and gardens large enough to accommodate 1,600 people at a time in comfort. Its mosaic and marble floors, its frescoes and sculptures made it one of Rome’s essential landmarks, not only as a monument to the glory of the emperor who built it – though it certainly was that – but also as a place to be used by people, day and night. Its magnificence, and the sense of the joy of a great shared civic space, inspired the American architect Charles McKim when he designed New York’s Pennsylvania Station, one the most sublime railway stations ever built. The central waiting room, barbarously destroyed 50 years after it opened, was a convincing recreation of the baths of Caracalla that lifted the spirits of anyone who passed through it. The months of isolation have taught us how important shared spaces of all kinds are to the way that we live. They are the places in which we meet each other to celebrate the important rituals of life, as well as to pursue the seemingly trivial (actually essential) compulsion to gossip about one another. As an essentially self-conscious species, we need alibis to give ourselves permission to be convivial. We construct reasons to meet each other, like the 19th century clubs of Pall Mall, or their democratic paraphrase – with its provision of gender segregation, and games room, and its mix of intimacy and ceremony – the Victorian pub full of mirrors and cut glass. Or in today’s context, a bowling alley configured to allow players and their friends to sit at a table, order food and drinks, and watch each other play, and to hear each other converse. Some public spaces do better at conviviality than others. The Las Vegas casino, for example, is designed to be the opposite of convivial. Slot machines on an industrial scale obviate the need for any form of human interaction. With its glass dome, and 25 miles of bookshelves, the old round reading room at the British Museum is certainly a very special space, although it has now lost its intellectual raison d’être and has become a dead monument. In its day, a reader’s ticket conferred membership of an exclusive club that included Oscar Wilde, Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, and George Orwell. But as the museum’s insistence on silence suggests – beyond unspoken flirtation over the book stacks – it was not a place that was fundamentally about conviviality. The Berghain Club, the raw, concrete world capital of techno music based in a redundant power station in Friedrichshain, in what was once East Berlin, is another very different kind of public space, and – in its own way – an equally spectacular social space. It has a pickier door policy than the British Museum but a similarly committed membership. In this case, the limit on conviviality is not silence, but the sheer volume of sound that makes the 18-metre-high main spaces vibrate, and which makes conversation inconceivable. A truly convivial space needs to work on multiple levels, to offer a variety of zones, some of which can encourage concentration, and others that can be distracting. Some may be more intimate than others. It’s a drive that is leading to an interesting range of cross-fertilisation. Cinemas that serve food more ambitious than popcorn and hot dogs are being equipped with sofas instead of tip-up seats. Health spas come with restaurants. However, not all convivial spaces encourage multiple uses. Orchestration and control are part of the experience at those English clubs that frown on members showing any signs of working, to the extent of asking them to put away notebook and pencil – never mind laptops – over lunch. Some aspects of what we have learned from the last year will colour life well into the future. The private dining room is a long-standing restaurant tradition, which has been given a new lease of life. We can also expect to see signs of change in the workplace. The Silicon Valley model has aspired to look as domestic as possible, furnished with sofas and kitchen tables, surrounded by vintage and deliberately non-matching chairs. A year of working at home is likely to encourage a more formal environment. But while we continually try to find new tools to make conviviality possible, the objectives remain the same. In a year in which all our assumptions about how we live together have been turned upside down, the world’s designers and architects have had to face the challenge of how to deal with the impact of the pandemic on our homes and our cities. As city centres empty out, and people avoid crowds, how can we find ways to socialise? 
Deyan Sudjic asked four leading designers and architects to explore the future directions that conviviality can take for FONDATA. John Pawson Architect John Pawson has always focused on the idea of designing the architecture of conviviality. In his recently released Home Farm Cooking book, produced with his wife Catherine and published by Phaidon, we see what matters most. Every Pawson interior is designed with how it will feel to use it in mind – is it to be enjoyed by somebody on their own, or with others? He takes away the distractions and lets us focus on how we use and feel in a room. He makes some spaces in which to read and to concentrate, others in which to share the preparation of a meal, and yet another to enjoy the result in company. Intrinsic in his philosophy is the importance of creating a setting where one can appreciate light at different times of the day – whether it is the shades of white as revealed by degrees of sunlight or the warming effect of firelight by night. johnpawson.com AB Rogers Ab Rogers was inspired by the spontaneous street life of the neighbourhood in 
East London in which he lives and works to come up with a range of furniturelike structures to give social spontaneity a helping hand. “Whether it’s planned 
or serendipitous, we wanted to design a set of colourful pieces that could help 
to turn a momentary catch-up on the street into an impromptu drinks party, 
anchored by a tuned-up bollard. Or make a surprise anniversary dinner possible 
under a street lamp … or make a breath of fresh air turn into a long lunch with 
new friends at a long table under the trees.”  abrogers.com Paloma Strelitz Paloma Strelitz, an architect, and co-founder of the Turner Prize winning 
collective Assemble, took an overview of how shopping streets might recover 
from lockdown, to generate new life: “convivial, accessible, sustainable and 
enjoyable for all”. The experience of negotiating streets in which precautions 
against the pandemic had caused restaurants and food shops to migrate to 
the pavement, made her think about ways to make this a permanent quality.
“It’s an opportunity to empower local business. Shops could open their 
facades to the street, creating an expanded space of public interaction, and 
daily theatre.” She would keep the car in its place, with priority for pedestrians and bikes, 
and banned altogether at weekends. What were once parking places would 
become green borders, combining play space, raised planters, flower beds 
and trees, allowing the street to become a promenade. Meanwhile the street 
would be animated not just by cafés, but studios and workshops putting the 
making process on show. Oh, and a mobile bar too.  assemblestudio.co.uk Jon Marshall  Jon Marshall, an industrial design partner at Pentagram in London, found himself 
thinking about ways to bring together two very different kinds of object: a hamper, 
designed to carry utensils food and drink securely, and a shooting stick. “They 
aren’t really about shooting,” he explains. “The shooting stick is actually a very 
convenient way of carrying the means to sit anywhere with you.”  The hamper allows for the sense of anticipation that comes from preparing for 
a pleasurable occasion. The two objects have very different aesthetics – one is 
vaguely mechanical, the other has a kind and rustic quality. For Marshall, the idea 
of the shared walk – with the chance of stopping for a picnic – is the very essence 
of conviviality. pentagram.com/about/jon-marshall This article was originally published in FONDATA, Issue One

The past year has seen a huge change in our ability to interact, and opportunities to be social. Deyan Sudjic considers the importance of conviviality for human beings – and the public spaces we design.

Deyan Sudjic considers the importance of conviviality for human beings – and the public spaces we design.

FONDATA: The Importance of Being Convivial

The Importance of Being Convivial  

Arvine: Switzerland’s hidden treasure Berry colour: white
 Arvine, pearl of the Alps The ultimate Swiss grape variety, Arvine can produce captivating, complex wines of international stature, from dry to sweet. It is native to the Valais, southern Switzerland, where it was mentioned for the first time in 1602. Since the late 19th century, it has often been called Petite Arvine to distinguish it from Grosse Arvine, a completely different and rare local variety. I have not so far been able to uncover Arvine’s parents by DNA testing. It is often said that Arvine was introduced to Switzerland by the Romans. Its name allegedly derived from helvola, a grape variety mentioned by Cato the Elder. I refute this claim for two very simple reasons: firstly, it is impossible to establish botanical identity between the vague descriptions of Latin authors and modern varieties, and secondly, helvola grapes were black-berried. I think instead that its name comes from the local dialect arvena, itself probably derived from the Latin advena, meaning ‘just arrived’. This name could have been given to the variety shortly after its birth (or arrival?) in the Valais. It is a late-ripening variety, with small berries and compact, small bunches. It is quite productive, but prone to wind damage and susceptible to fungal diseases. Arvine covers 218 hectares (539 acres), almost exclusively in the Valais, representing only 1.48% of the country’s vine-bearing area. It produces complex, lively wines that can age well, with aromas of citrus and rhubarb, and a firm structure, as well as a characteristic salinity on the finish. Champions of Arvine In the Valais, several outstanding producers make excellent varietal Arvine wines. For dry wines, I would recommend Cave Benoît Dorsaz in Fully, Valentina Andrei in Saillon, Didier Joris in Chamoson, Cave de l’Orpailleur in Uvrier and Domaine des Muses in Granges, among many others. For the sweet wines, produced from grapes that are naturally left to shrivel on the vine, the undisputed champion is Marie-Thérèse Chappaz in Fully. From her biodynamic vineyards, this icon of Swiss winegrowers crafts some of the best sweet wines in the world, especially from Arvine. Her Petite Arvine Grain Noble is highly sought after, and her otherworldly Arvine Grain par Grain, made exclusively from botrytised berries harvested by hand, berry by berry, is almost impossible to find. Arvine has rarely been planted outside Switzerland. In Italy, it was introduced to the neighbouring Aosta Valley in 1970. In 1992, Angelo Gaja, one of Italy’s most famous wine producers, planted 0.36 hectares in Serralunga (Piedmonte). The result was a disaster, in his words, mainly because of problems with coulure and wind damage. In France, some vine parcels exist in the Languedoc and in the Rhône Valley, where charismatic winemaker Michel Chapoutier planted half a hectare in Tain-l’Hermitage, but he was not convinced by the results and has now abandoned the experiment. Outside Europe, it is produced only in Mendocino, California, by one adventurous producer, Ernest Vineyards, which makes a varietal wine under the Edaphos label.

Dr José Vouillamoz
 
Areni: Armenia’s national treasure Berry colour: BLACK 
History in a bottle Areni is the most important red variety in Armenia. It most likely comes from the village of Areni in Vayots Dzor, at the southeastern end of the county, where the world’s oldest cellar (4000 BC) was discovered in a cave in 2011. Interestingly, the grape remains found at the bottom of the old karas (the traditional clay jars) buried in the cave look very similar to the pips of the modern Areni variety. DNA profiling has failed to identify Areni’s parents, making it an orphan Armenian variety, but it has shown that at least two distinct varieties share the name Areni: Areni Sev (sev means black), the ‘true’ one that has historically been grown in Vayots Dzor, and Areni Seyrak (seyrak means loose, referring to the bunches), sporadically found among Areni Sev vines in old mixed vineyards. Areni Sev is a late-ripening variety with oblong, sometimes ovate, thick-skinned berries. The bunches are medium-sized and dense. It shows good resistance to frost, which means it can be cultivated at high elevations (up to 1,600 metres in Armenia). It is moderately resistant to powdery mildew and susceptible to downy mildew. Areni is exclusively cultivated in Armenia, where it has traditionally been used to make high-quality, age-worthy wines with complex aromas of violets, wisteria, cherries and blackberries, silky tannins and refreshing acidity. Champions of Areni After my first visit to Areni village in 2003, and despite the rudimentary winemaking at the only local winery (Areni Winery, now Hin Winery), I was convinced that Areni was among the most promising grape varieties in the world. In 2012, I met Zorik Gharibian in Izmir (Turkey) at the European Wine Bloggers’ Conference. I was much impressed by his 2010 Karasi Areni Noir, Zorah Wines’ very first vintage after 10 years of trial and error. We became friends and I selfishly helped him find an importer in Switzerland, in order to secure my own supply of his wines, including the mind-blowing high-end cuvée Yeraz. Since then, Zorik and his wife Yeraz have relentlessly promoted Armenian wines all over the world, and Zorah Wines has become one of Armenia’s most respected flagships. Their wines, sourced from ungrafted vineyards between 1,300 and 1,600 metres altitude are partly made in karas, traditional clay jars partly buried underground, ‘cousins’ of the Georgian qvevri. The sad thing is that Armenian-born Eduardo Eurnekian, one of the wealthiest people in Argentina and owner of several airports, including that of Yerevan in Armenia, has founded a winery named Karas Wines, despite not using any karas in the winemaking process. In 2018, judges granted him the exclusive usage of the name Karas, disregarding 6,000 years of shared tradition. Zorik Gharibian has been determinedly fighting against this unfair judgement and he plans to appeal to the country’s Supreme Court. I strongly support him. And I predict that Armenia may well be the ‘next big thing’ in the wine world. Dr José Vouillamoz
 Kydonitsa: Rebirth of an extremely rare grape variety Berry colour: WHITE Rescued in the nick of time Kydonitsa is a survivor, an almost forgotten variety from Lakonía (Laconia) in the southern Pelopónnisos (Peloponnese) in Greece. According to local belief, it was widely cultivated in the medieval period when Lakonía formed part of the Byzantine Empire. It then flourished under brief periods of Venetian rule, before it was threatened with extinction under Ottoman rule, as a result of the bans on alcohol consumption. It had almost disappeared when it was saved from extinction by Yiannis Vatistas and Yorgos Tsimbidi (Monemvasia Winery) in the late 1990s. DNA profiling has not revealed any match or parentage with any other variety, making it a Greek orphan. The medium-sized bunches are relatively loose and elongated. The berries are small and turn golden yellow when ripe. In Greek, the word kυδωνίτσα (kydonitsa) means ‘little quince’, referring to the aroma of both the berry and the wine. The wine also shows notes of lemon, grapefruit, bergamot and mirabelle plum, as well as aromatic herbs. It is elegant, creamy, with crisp acidity and a slightly bitter, orange-peel finish, with a hint of iodine. Kydonitsa is grown exclusively in Lakonía, on the east coast of the Pelopónnisos, near the island of Monemvasia. Champions of Kydonitsa Yorgos Tsimbidi is a visionary. In 1997, while most wineries in the Pelopónnisos were busy planting so-called international grape varieties, he founded Monemvasia Winery in order to revive the historical Malvasia wine in its birthplace. The name Malvasia has been given to a wide range of genetically distinct white-, pink-, grey- and black-skinned varieties which are all particularly well suited to the production of sweet wines. The name is purported to be a corruption of Monemvasia, which means ‘single entrance’ and is the name of a small port situated on a rocky spur in Lakonía. It has been famous since ancient times for its sweet wine made from sun-dried grapes. The earliest mention of the sweet wines of Monemvasia dates back to 1214 in Éfesos (Ephesus, today in Turkey), and in 1278 the Venetians were already importing vinum de Malvasias. The exact identities of the grape varieties making up this sweet wine are still unknown, but Kydonitsa and the appropriately named Monemvasia were probably part of the blend. This is what drove Yorgos Tsimbidi to put all his time and energy into rescuing them, carrying out countless on-farm trials since 1997. He now produces dry varietal wines, as well as the sweet ‘Monemvasia – Malvasia’, a blend of Monemvasia, Kydonitsa, Assyrtiko and Asproudi grapes, dried for approximately two weeks under the sun, in order to revive the ancient tradition. Today, Yorgos runs the winery with his wife Elli and their daughters Marialena, Anastasia and Artemis. I was able to taste a mini-vertical of Kydonitsa during my visit in 2016, which convinced me of the exceptional quality and ageing potential of this resurrected variety. And the rest of the portfolio convinced me that Monemvasia Winery is one of the best in mainland Greece. Dr José Vouillamoz

 Baga: Northern Portuguese red with a simple name and a complex character Berry colour: black 
The rehabilitation of Baga The meaning of Baga may be simple (berry) but the variety is far from it. When it is good, it is breathtakingly beautiful and capable of long ageing. When it is abused, it is acid, mean and lean, with tough tannins. It requires commitment from growers and wine lovers. While it may have originated in Portugal's Dão region, it has found its home in neighbouring Bairrada, where it is the dominant red variety. In 2017 there were 8,258 hectares (20,406 acres), 4% of Portugal’s vineyard area. It’s found mainly in Bairrada but also in Dão, although there it is not authorised in DOP wines. Baga vines are also planted, though far less numerously, in Lisboa, the Tejo and the Douro. The cool, wet, Atlantic-influenced climate of Bairrada is particularly inconvenient for a late-ripening variety with thin skins and prone to botrytis. If its vigour and productivity are not controlled by careful viticulture or the natural balance achieved by older vines in poor soils, there is increased risk of under-ripeness or rot when the September rains arrive. Despite all this, those whose hearts have been captured by the variety have shown it to be as bewitching as Pinot Noir, and as hauntingly complex and long-lived as Nebbiolo. Champions of Baga The variety allows itself to be made in many styles, influenced strongly by the soil (limestone-clay and granite are both prized), the age of the vines and, not least, by the personalities of the winegrowers and their choices in the winery. The most restlessly experimental and determined is Luís Pato, who was prominent among a small group of quality-minded winegrowers who dragged Baga into the spotlight for fine wine after it had languished for so long as a source of bulk reds churned out by the state-controlled co-ops and négociants for much of the 20th century. While there are today, thankfully, too many good winegrowers to mention by name, the Baga Friends display the variety’s wonderful diversity: from the powerful styles aged in oak that become increasingly complex and perfumed with age that are produced by, for example, Luís Pato, Mário Sérgio Alves Nuno at Quinta das Bageiras, François Chasans at Quinta da Vacariça and Paulo Sousa at Sidónio de Sousa; to the lightly stepping, red-fruited, fresh and scented beauties of Filipa Pato and Douro incomer Dirk Niepoort at Quinta de Baixo. Baga can also make very good sparkling wines. Bussaco Palace Hotel has an astonishing collection of very old vintages, blending Baga from Bairrada with Touriga Nacional from Dão. Julia Harding MW 
Kisi: Recently resurrected and scented Georgian white Berry colour: WHITE The resurrection of Kisi Maybe it’s because thin-skinned Kisi is difficult to grow and sensitive to the climate that it was on the verge of extinction at the end of the 20th century, when David Maisuradze made a wine that put the variety firmly back in the spotlight. The highly respected winemaker, then with Telavi Wine Cellar, managed to find just four tonnes of the variety to make a wine, fermented in a stainless-steel tank, that stunned wine lovers with its pure, floral aromas and deep fruit flavours of citrus and pear, richly fruited but dry. This variety didn’t stand much chance in the Soviet era when only a very limited number of varieties were permitted in the interests of volume rather than quality. Kisi was not among them and it survived in family vineyards in just three villages in its homeland of Kakheti, in the Alazani Valley in eastern Georgia in the shadow of the Caucasus Mountains: mainly in Maghraani but also in Argokhi and Pichkhovani. There are currently about 500 hectares (1,235 acres) of Kisi in Georgia, all still in this region. There is currently no DNA evidence to reveal the variety’s parentage but it is not related to Mtsvane Kakhuri or Rkatsiteli, the latter a Soviet favourite. Champions of Kisi In Georgia, ‘classic’ white wines are made in a way familiar to most 21st-century wine drinkers – fermented without the skins, typically in temperature-controlled tanks, occasionally fermented or aged in oak. By contrast, so-called qvevri white wines, sometimes referred to as amber wines because of their typically deep colour, are those vinified in traditional Georgian qvevri, large clay vessels ranging from 700 to 2,000 litres, buried underground so that just the opening is visible. The lightly crushed whole berries, including the skins and seeds, and sometimes even the stems, are fermented together in a qvevri, thus producing a wine with firm, even chewy, tannic texture and a wonderful panoply of flavours derived both from the variety and the winemaking, often ranging from apricots to chamomile. Soon after the appearance of Maisuradze’s revelatory wine, Gogi Dakishvili, a master of these qvevri wines, was able to buy a small amount of Kisi and make a wine in this second style. The cat was out of the bag and growers, including Dakishvili, started to replant when they saw the potential.  Kisi made under both the Dakishvili Family and the Orgo labels reveal all the textural and aromatic complexity of scented varieties made in this way. They are utterly pure, full-bodied wines with intense aromas and flavours that have sufficient structure to be very versatile with food. Qvevri winemaking was recognised as a UNESCO intangible heritage in 2013. While this is the style I particularly enjoy, for anyone who is not a fan of amber wines, there are fine examples that reveal even more of Kisi’s aromatic potential and deep but fresh fruit intensity. These include those from Winiveria and Khareba, and a particularly good off-dry style from Koncho & Co. One of the finest, in this case with light oak influence, is made by Danieli Winery, from vines near Argokhi, one of the three villages which were key to Kisi’s renaissance. Julia Harding MW
 This article was originally published in FONDATA, Issue One.  Illustration by Sarah Jane Humphrey.

Wine Grapes co-authors, Julia Harding MW and Dr José Vouillamoz, champion five lesser-known grape varieties from the book – and the winemakers that are using them to notable effect.

Wine Grapes co-authors Julia Harding MW and Dr José Vouillamoz champion five lesser-known grape varieties – and the winemakers using them to notable effect

FONDATA: Raisins d'être

Raisins d'être

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

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

Your essential guide to Burgundy wine

Your essential guide to Burgundy

Chateau Ollieux Romanis (Jacqueline Bories)

Accounts

Your access is restricted because of your age.

Access forbidden

You must be over the legal age to view this page. Please verify your age to enter.

Are you over the legal age to purchase alcohol?

As a result of the quantity requested for delivery, we recommend using Third Party Shipping. If you proceed with our Shipping, there may be a delay to the selected ship date.

As a result of the quantity requested for delivery, we recommend using Third Party Shipping. If you proceed with our Shipping, you will not be able to define a ship date, and we will get in touch with you to arrange delivery.

Your order request will be cancelled. Are you sure you want to proceed?

Due to the quantity requested for collection, there may be a delay in meeting your requested collection date.

Due to the quantity requested for collection, it is not possible to define a collection date at this stage. Our team will liaise with the warehouse and contact you directly to confirm a suitable pick-up date.

This item has been listed by a collector and is available for storage or immediate delivery

For orders with a high value, we recommend shipping with a third party carrier. Items shipped with third parties will remain in banded OWCs.

Due to the quantity requested, you won’t be able to select a collection date. Please submit your request, and we will liaise with our warehouse and confirm the collection date with you directly.

Due to the quantity requested, you won’t be able to continue the purchase. Please select third party, or change the quantity (maximum 48 is allowed).

Due to the quantity requested, you won’t be able to select a shipping date at checkout. Please submit your request, and we will liaise with our warehouse and confirm the delivery date with you directly.

For up to 499 bottles in storage, the rate is 39¢/bottle per month or a $50 minimum monthly charge (this covers up to 142 bottles). For over 500 bottles, the storage rate is 35¢/bottle per month.

Storage is charged at HKD 40 per 12-bottle case per month. A minimum monthly storage fee of HKD 80 applies, covering up to 24 bottles.

Standard storage rate

By selecting third-party shipping, you will take full responsibility for all aspects of legal compliance and authorize Vinfolio to transfer the items to the party specified in your instructions. Items shipped via third parties will remain in their original packaging.

Collection times are between 8:30am - 12pm & 1:30pm - 4:30pm, Monday to Friday. Wines at Will Call, that are not picked up within 10 business days, will be transferred to storage and subject to a $1.50 per bottle stocking fee.

Items to be sourced and shipped to our state-of-the-art fine wine storage facility for the best possible safe-keeping where you can arrange collection from our warehouse address in Napa.

Will Call (Napa)

You entered the incorrect password too many times. Your account has been temporarily locked. Please wait five minutes before trying again.

It seems you are visiting from {country}, we invite you to experience our {nationality} website.

Are you browsing from {country}?

We’re unable to process your order with both event tickets and a wine or spirit product in the same transaction. To proceed, please remove either the event tickets or the item from your basket. You’ll then be able to complete your purchase.

Please review your basket

Forgot Password

We're in the final stages of upgrading to our brand-new trading platform. As part of this transition, we're currently migrating all customer-owned inventory to ensure a smooth and seamless experience.

Our new and improved platform will be ready for you on Friday, April 4.

Thank you for your patience - we can't wait to show you what's next.

Oops, something went wrong

Sign in to your {name} account to buy, store, value and sell fine wine and spirits, and track your order history and account details.

We couldn't find any results to show here.

Please note: delivery, duty and VAT charges may apply

Our website is currently down for maintenance.

Maintenance Mode

Pre-authorizing a Payment Method enables your Account Manager to make payments on your behalf, without payment verification.

Pre-authorize

This transaction has been blocked by authentication failure.

Authentication failure

Your payment card has expired. Please check your details and try again.

Expired card

Insufficient funds to pay your balance. Please check your details and try again.

Insufficient funds

This transaction has been blocked by the payment provider due to possible fraudulent behaviour.

Transaction blocked

Please choose a different payment method and try again.

Unknown error

About description for demonstration purposes

shows all the items you currently store with us. These items can be sold, delivered or transferred.

At {shortName}

Your allocation will be cancelled. Are you sure you want to continue?

Your pre-order item will be deleted. Are you sure you want to continue?

Your delivery request will be cancelled. Are you sure you want to proceed?

represents all the wines that are in your possession and have been consumed.

This is the price you paid for this item.

Cost price

After adding your new address, you'll be redirected back to this page.

Create a new address

Your notification will be deleted. Are you sure you want to continue?

The lowest price you're willing to sell at. If the net price goes below this value your listing will be removed.

shows all the items that you have pre-ordered, including en primeur wines, and all the items on your watchlist.

Futures

You can set a floor price on items you're selling based on a % of current unit net value.

You can set a market price on items you're selling based on a % of current unit net value.

shows all the actions that you have taken on items in your Portfolio.

groups every action by type - Purchase, Sale, Delivery, and Inbound Transfer - so it's clear at a glance what happened to each item.

History

shows all the items that are currently in transit to or from {shortName}.

In transit

Local delivery is free for orders over HK$1,800 (to a single location). For orders below this value, delivery is HK$150 for up to four cases and HK$50 per case thereafter.

Shipping starts from €15 within Italy and €45 to Switzerland and the rest of Europe for up to 48 bottles (75cl). Costs vary by destination. Larger shipments can be quoted on request.

The date shown below is when your order will ship from our local warehouse. Your final delivery date, along with full tracking details, will be provided once our team has processed your request.

You can arrange collection from our Retail store on 22nd Floor, 8 Wyndham Street, Central Hong Kong.
Collection times are between 9:30am-13:00 and 14:00-18:00pm, Monday to Friday. We are closed on public holidays.

You can arranged collection from our warehouse STI INTERNAZIONALE SPA, on Viale del Lavoro, 57, 37051 Bovolone, Verona.
Pick-up hours are between 8:30 AM to 12:30 PM and 1:30 PM to 5:30 PM, Monday to Friday. We are closed on public holidays.

This is the current estimated market value for this item.

Manually set prices will be overwritten. Already listed wines are not affected.

Updates all unlisted wines to current market price.

Set all at market

represents all the wines you currently have in your Portfolio that aren't stored with us. Press the

My cellar

Name

Net price

New portfolio available

New portfolio

You do not have any invoices at this time.

shows all the items from your Portfolio that are currently on the market.

On sale

shows all the items you currently have in your Portfolio. You can perform individual actions on them from this page.

Overview

shows any items that are currently awaiting user action.

Pending

This is the dynamic market price of the item with trading margin removed.

This is the amount of profit you will receive if your listing sells.

Pre-authorised payments enable automatic transactions on your behalf, ensuring seamless and hassle-free payments. This allows recurring charges, subscriptions, or scheduled payments to be processed without manual approval each time.

The number of cases you wish to place on sale

Your catalogue item will be archived. Are you sure you want to continue?

Your catalogue items will be archived. Are you sure you want to continue?

Before you request delivery, you can adjust the quantity for each item in your selection below.

*Market price is dynamic and may change. At time of sale a 10% trading fee will be deducted from the final sale price.

Total market price*

The fixed custom price you wish to sell each item for.

Split into {caseSize} individual {bottleSize}cl bottles.

Title

shows all the items you currently store with us. These items can be sold.

Available for sale — items stored with {name} eligible to be listed on the marketplace.

Profile

This item is at FINE+RARE, available for storage, transfer or delivery.
 Most UK deliveries can be made within 3-5 working days, with next day delivery for London;
 an exact date will be available when arranging delivery.
 International deliveries have longer lead-times, please contact us for details.

This item is at FINE+RARE HOME Hong Kong, available for delivery or local pickup. Most Hong Kong deliveries can be made within 3 working days, an exact date will be available when arranging delivery. International deliveries have longer lead-times, please contact us for details.

Wines sold en primeur will be released from the producer after bottling, typically 18 months after the so-called campaign ends. Your wine will then be stored by FINE+RARE in a bonded warehouse until you decide to take delivery.

We will source this item at the guaranteed price from our network of suppliers and arrange expedited shipment to FINE+RARE.
 The lead-time depends on many variables, but 2-4 weeks is typical for expedited sourcing.
 Once your order is confirmed, we'll keep you updated on its ETA.
 Every item is checked on arrival by our expert team, with photographs available on request (please note that charges may apply).

We will source this item at the guaranteed price from our network of suppliers and arrange shipment to FINE+RARE.
 The lead-time depends on many variables, but 6-12 weeks is an average estimate.
 Once your order is confirmed, we'll keep you updated on its ETA.
 Every item is checked on arrival by our expert team, with photographs available on request (please note that charges may apply).

Chateau Ollieux Romanis (Jacqueline Bories)

Filter

Please wait

Related articles