About Académie du Vin Founded in Paris in 1973 by Steven Spurrier, the Académie du Vin grew out of a love of wine and a desire to share it with clarity and intelligence. What began as informal wine appreciation courses in 1970s Paris evolved into a publishing house dedicated to the finest wine writing of the past, present, and future. Today, the Académie du Vin Library maintains a deliberately small and carefully curated list, selecting books for their readability, authority and enduring insight into the world’s great wine regions – guided by the belief that fine wine writing, like wine itself, deepens with time. About this article This article presents the introduction to Côte d’Or: The wines and winemakers of the heart of Burgundy (2nd Edition) by Raymond Blake. In it, Blake sets the scene for Burgundy’s most revered stretch of vineyard, exploring the historical, cultural and human forces that shape the Côte d’Or. The introduction offers essential context on place, tradition and the vignerons themselves—laying the groundwork for a deeper understanding of Burgundy’s wines and the people behind them. Introduction The Côte d’Or, the Golden Slope, enjoys a reputation and exerts an influence in the wine world out of all proportion to its size. It possesses none of the grandeur of the Douro Valley, for instance, nor the picture-postcard beauty of South Africa’s winelands. It is not majestic; its beauty is serene, and what strikes the observer time and again is the tiny scale. From north to south it is about 50 kilometres long, is sometimes less than a kilometre wide, and can be driven in little more than an hour. At a push it could be walked in a day. Yet for a thousand or more years this favoured slope has yielded wines that have entranced and delighted wine lovers, with a fair measure of frustration and disappointment thrown in too. Avoiding hyperbole when writing about the Côte d’Or is a problem, for it has held people in thrall for centuries, frequently prompting poetic flights of prose: ‘The Pathetic Fallacy resounds in all our praise of wine … This Burgundy seemed to me, then, serene and triumphant … it whispered faintly, but in the same lapidary phrase, the same words of hope.’ Thus wrote Evelyn Waugh in Brideshead Revisited eighty years ago. Literary critics might cavil at such prolixity, and Waugh himself tamed it severely in later editions, but it was enough to intrigue me decades ago and engender a love for the region and its wines that has never waned. Greater Burgundy is a bigger, more geographically diverse, region than might first be supposed, stretching from Chablis, south-east of Paris, to Beaujolais, north of Lyon. The subject matter of this book, however, is Burgundy’s heart, the Côte d’Or. There is no more celebrated stretch of agricultural land on earth. It has been pored over and analysed, feted and cosseted, obsessed about and sought after for centuries and today, if anything, it exerts a greater pull on wine lovers than ever before. ‘Astronomical’ does not begin to describe the prices now being paid for prized patches of grand and premier cru vineyard, and for the wines produced from them by the top domaines. Such prices hog the headlines and paint a dazzling, though severely one-dimensional, picture of the Côte d’Or today. In the early years of the twenty-first century they are part of the story but they are not the only part. This book aims to get behind the dazzle and flesh out the story, to add some nuance and extra dimension. The Côte d’Or cannot be captured in a sound bite nor, it must be admitted, in a book of this scope – but my hope is that it may add another chapter to the ever-unfolding tale, setting it in the early years of the twenty-first century, a period that may come to be considered by future historians as a golden age for Burgundy but which has brought its own challenges in the shape of those ludicrous prices, the scandal of premature oxidation in the white wines, and the increasing challenge of dealing with extreme weather events such as hail and spring frost. The Côte d’Or has been the subject of forensic scrutiny for centuries, generating a library of books, so why another one now? For the simple reason that it is ever changing. Every year sees new names added to the producers’ roster and old ones slipping away, and thanks to this ongoing evolution the infant domaine of today can be the superstar of tomorrow. The core of the book comprises about a hundred producer profiles. Many fine domaines and négociants whose wines I am happy to purchase and drink have not found a place here. It is important to stress that they have not been included, rather than excluded, simply for reasons of space. The aim was to feature a representative collection of producers, not a top-down selection of the most celebrated names in descending order of renown. As a consequence this book is not, nor was it ever intended to be, a comprehensive A to Z of producers. I write as an amateur du vin, an enthusiast whose admiration for the wines of Burgundy stretches back over four decades, and who has been visiting the region and writing about the wines for some thirty years. I do not trade in wine. I try to see beyond the wine to get something of the backstory, the story of people and place that makes the Côte d’Or so fascinating. To examine the wines in isolation is to dislocate them from that, and not knowing something of the backstory precludes a full understanding of them. A broad lens must be brought to bear on the côte. Too narrow, and the wood will never be seen for the trees. I have learned much by coming across things serendipitously rather than dashing hither and thither, seeing a lot but noticing little. Without time for assimilation and reflection, subtlety and shade are missed. Finally, no gustatory experience can match the thrill of a great Côte d’Or red drunk at its peak. The colour, crimsoned by age; the heavenly scent, perfumed with notes of sweet decay; a sauvage edge, the palate lively and tingling, managing to be so many things at once, oscillating between fruit and spice and meat and game, a merry-go-round of flavour, spiralling on the palate, refusing to be pinned down by anything so prosaic as a tasting note. All the primary components melded by age and yielding up new ones, unsignalled when the wine was young. Everything cohesive and in harmony, like a great orchestra playing at its best. Above all, vital and living, endlessly enchanting and intriguing, engaging the palate and the spirit like no other wine. Learn more about Raymond Blake's Côte d'Or (2nd edition) Shop all books from the Académie du Vin Library Visit the Académie du Vin website Upcoming Event FINE+RARE & Académie du Vin Present: The Impossible Tasting FINE+RARE and Académie du Vin are delighted to present a rare and intimate exploration of the finest wines ever made. Wines of historical legend. Wines that are rarely seen, much less opened. Wines that should be impossible to bring together at one time. Lunch (April 29): River Restaurant, The Savoy Hotel Dinner (April 30): St James’s Room, 67 Pall Mall Club Learn more about the event here

Explore Burgundy with the introduction from Raymond Blake's book: Côte d'Or: The wines and winemakers of the heart of Burgundy. Blake tells the whole story of this hugely influential region, painting a complete picture of life there: the history, landscape, climate, culture and people.

Discover Raymond Blake's Côte d'Or (2nd Edition): a deep dive into Burgundy's wines, winemakers, history, culture and the people behind this iconic region.

Raymond Blake on the Côte d'Or

I. Distractions In 1987, when I was 18 and a dollar was worth more than twice as much as it is today, I started reading magazines: M, Esquire, GQ. Nearby, in our somewhat cultured Texas town, a new bookstore opened in a cavernous space that had formerly housed the shag-carpeted roller skating rink of our childhood. Through the front windows, which had before been darkly tinted to give the place an alluring den-of-prepubescent-iniquity vibe, now streamed bright, clean light, showcasing a look and layout that would become the interior design gestalt of today’s national-chain, big-box book superstore. The rows upon rows of open, dustless shelving bearing a veritable warehouse of volumes; the ceiling hung with its industrial innards on display; the enfilade of check-out cubicles; and the wall – the great wall – that displayed a preposterous-to-behold assortment of glossies, quarterlies, journals, newsweeklies, fanzines, tabloids, almanacs, and all other flora and fauna of magazines arrayed upon a rack perhaps 50 feet long.  I went in there to look for a book. I liked books, and, one day, I was sure I wanted to write one. But I got distracted and bought a magazine instead – that August’s issue of GQ, which still stands out in my mind as a thing of formative significance. At that time, the zeitgeist was defined by a Walkman-wearing version of the American Renaissance Man – the highly-ambitious, status-obsessed, money-motivated, health-nut known as a Yuppie. No magazine positioned itself more authoritatively in defining this new sociological creature’s lifestyle than GQ, and it did it with whiter teeth, snappier suspenders, better accessories, bigger polka dots and more caffeine in the ink of its display copy.  I remember that issue less for the photos by Richard Avedon or Steven Meisel, the words of Martin Amis or Frederick Exley, than for this: Erzeugerabfüllung. It was one of the longest, strangest strings of letters from the Roman alphabet I had ever seen. Neither did it seem designed to come out of someone’s mouth. But there it was in Alan Richman’s Wine & Spirits column, accompanied by a lovely still-life photograph of his topic: two bottles of Riesling Kabinetts on a white, sun-dappled tablecloth. Richman’s main point – made almost 35 years ago – still holds true: estate-bottled, table-quality German wines remain some of the least expensive, most delicious wines in the world, chiefly because – then as now – the labels, as he wrote, “cannot be understood by anyone who is not a part-time oenophile, linguist and cartographer”. One US dollar in Richman’s pocket, as I have already said, bought what roughly two-dollars-and-fifty-cents does today; what he was on the hunt for was a good dry white in a range that would now cost somewhere between 12 and 30 bucks, and he easily accomplished that by finding a dealer in New York City who carried a good selection of wines from the Mosel and Rheingau. At the time, I didn’t know the meaning or significance of any of this, but it staked a claim in my brain. The only wine I had ever tasted was the one served at our Episcopal church during Eucharist on Sundays. The flavour it had was of a strange, super-concentrated jam that somehow warmed your upper body. Even as a young kid, I liked it. But the adjectives these German bottles were squeezing out of Richman – “citrus-like”, “honeyed”, “tart-sweet” – weren’t close to describing what was in that chalice, even if you believed in transubstantiation. Was it because Richman’s wine was white, and the parish’s was red? Perhaps, but both colours of grape juice bottled by Welch’s tasted pretty much the same to me. No, I sensed there was something – a lot – I had to learn, and, along with the romance and beauty of the labels, and the contextual air of well-bred taste and cultural with-it-ness featured on the other pages, this, I feel sure, was the decisive moment, the true origin point, when I came to believe that among the many extraordinary things that make life worth living, not just words but wine reigns at the top.  I warned you about distractions, didn’t I? Because that would be my excuse for now informing you, as a quite apropos footnote, that, yes, there was something unusual about our church’s Communion wine. It was, as I have confirmed with the church, actually port (Taylor’s Tawny, to be more accurate), cut, according to tradition, with water. There is a good and fascinating reason for this. In 1701, when the War of the Spanish Succession kicked off, France also became an enemy of England, and its wines, as a result, were no longer made available for import. The Anglican Church searched for and found a replacement, the fortified wines of its new ally, Portugal, and port continues to be an acceptable option to pair with the Host.  II. Distillations A satisfying story, not unlike a satisfying life, is one that surprises you with the mystery of its unfolding. A thing pulls in a certain direction long enough to reach the proximity of something else which then turns toward a new destination. I had actually gone into that bookstore, as I said, to look at books. But I came out, even though I didn’t yet know it, with a different compass point. Within a few years, shortly after graduating from college, in 1992, I got hired by The New Yorker, where I stayed for almost nine years. I then met my future wife, who wisely laughed at the thought we might be able to survive in New York City on my meagre salary, so I went to Vogue, and soon after became the founding editor of Men’s Vogue. After 23 issues, and four years, the financial crisis laid an axe to many magazines, including that one. Eventually, I took on the editorship of Town & Country. Then, finally, in 2016, I moved up to Esquire, the magazine, as it happens, that didn’t offer me a job when The New Yorker did, and became that storied magazine’s editor in chief, until – well, you best read about that in The New York Times.  As far as distractions go, magazines were a good one. They made me who I am, gave me a tremendously worldly education, honed my taste, introduced me to all manner of accomplished people, required me to build quite a wardrobe, and paid me pretty well to do all of this, often with a glass of wine not far out of the picture. There was really no other way I would have ever got to taste all the bottles I have (a lot of the big names people whisper about from Burgundy and Bordeaux, Champagne and also Piedmont, Tuscany and Napa). I built a modest cave à vin of my own by buying the Smith Haut Lafittes of the world way before hedge-fund hoi polloi ran up the prices, and by having access to rare offerings, like 12 bottles of Fiorano, the legendary white wine Alberico Boncompagni Ludovisi, prince of Venosa, made before ripping out all his vines. I smelled the musty perfume of Margaux in the cellar as I watched the workers rack the wine by candlelight. I lured Jay McInerney away from the Wall Street Journal to become my wine columnist; and I once stood in Bordeaux’s town square, tight on 2002 Pétrus, trying with great focus to commune with the statue of Michel de Montaigne while my French friend, a true oenophile, extolled the majesty of the Big Mac’s special sauce.  As the editor of a magazine, curiosity is your profession, even to the point of distraction. Editors – writers, too – are prone to it. It’s a hazard of the gift, and having a jumble of ideas, if you’re any good, is key to making a magazine of any real intellectual or creative daring. Now as a husband and father of three, working from home and trying to be ‘present’, and a still youngish former editor and occasional micro-influencer trying to stave off the solitude to fathom and plot the next phase of a fruitful future, this skill of mine, the strength of which became even more magnified over two decades, is something of a family project.  The way I most often hear the word ‘distraction’ now, for instance, is when it’s being hurled at me in verb form by my wife or daughters accusing me of being more of a phone-enslaved screen vegetable than they are. (I respectfully disagree.) But it’s a sore point for two reasons. One, what I did as an editor is, in a nutshell, now what a smartphone essentially does. Not very imaginatively, of course, and not with taste or charm or originality, but with a bloody, money-grubbing ruthlessness that stalks every step of our digital peregrinations and doesn’t give a twist if the algorithms that are its brain make us its slave by retrofitting our attention spans for kindergarten.  The smartphone – not the former me or any of my fellow kind still in the media biz – is now the true croupier of culture, dealing out a targeted shuffle of Pavlovian temptations to the point of daily mental exhaustion. And, though this thing is in many ways my personal nemesis, I am, against every fibre of my being, too often its obedient servant. Aiming not to live according to the famous line by T.S. Eliot – “distracted from distraction by distraction” – I recently decided to at least take a serious inventory of my favourite ones, both those of the pre-digital sort (tennis, The Walking Dead, checking the mailbox, my sock collection) and those of the post-digital sort (the any and everything I do because my phone wants me to). Then I caught myself watching tennis on my phone and realised this might be harder than I thought. It’s enough to drive a person to drink, thank god! With that in mind, I like to keep a special something for the occasion around, in this case – what else? – two bottles of Riesling Kabinett, for it had struck me as more than a little weird that I’ve probably tasted fewer than a handful of German wines in my entire life. Part of the reason is that those I had were bad, and, like a lot of other simpletons about this great wine region of the world, I’d come to think of Riesling as a cloying elixir equal parts green Jolly Rancher, apple cider vinegar, and hairspray. This, I knew, was wrong, not true and, in terms of wine equity and inclusion, on the wrong side of history. But, if you happen to live in a place like I do – a bourgie swathe of Connecticut bordering New York City where the shops cater heavily to Cali-Fran-Taly banker’s tastes – it might take you a few stops to find what Richman recommended, an erzeugerabfüllung (estate-bottled) Kabinett (wine made from grapes with a minimum must weight/sugar content) Riesling, and when you do it will probably be coated in a fine sift of years-old dust. I bought a green (Mosel) bottle for US$16 and a brown (Rhine) bottle for US$20, both handsomely labelled. I opened them a few minutes ago and took several investigative swigs. The words bright, invigorating and snappy came to mind. One is indeed sweeter, and, though not my usual jam, it is tamped by a pleasing peachy tartness, and the classic overtone of honey isn’t making my palate feel doused with syrup. The other example is, as Richman said so long ago, a very finely layered creature with mineral clarity and an echo of baked bread, something a gluten-free person like me finds particularly appealing. A rather obvious thought: why haven’t I been buying this instead of throwing a ton of endless money at affordably bad white Burgundy, which is mostly a product aimed at fulfilling a desired outcome, like White Claw hard seltzer? III. Words But don’t let me get distracted, again. A writer really has to be careful about such things. Just think about it. Unlike, say, a painter or musician or actor or photographer, the process of writing requires zero physical exertion, no chance to score an endorphin release while sitting staring anxiously at a blank page. Of the many things in life that vie against the counter intuitive impulse to be glued to a desk, Cyril Connolly, in Enemies of Promise, his classic study of the things that distracted him (and others) from becoming a great writer, names the temptations but does not say much about why they’re so deeply tempting to someone who would otherwise be sitting alone in an empty room. Praise, money, fame, social prominence, affairs and journalism are the most common boltholes, according to Connolly, who, as a famously late sleeper that married three times, might have also added the bliss of unconsciousness and excessive alimony. In 1938, the year the book was published, he would never have imagined how hard the task might get without a cigarette. Smoking is a death wish, I know, but when you want to off yourself for still having a hundred pages to go, being able to snap open a nice lighter, flick some ash, stub a butt and inhale some lungfuls of focus-enhancing nicotine must have been kind of helpful. Connolly also doesn’t have much to say about drink except that artists who drink to excess do so “out of the consciousness of wasted ability”. According to that, the 20th century’s most famous literary alcoholics – Dorothy Parker, Truman Capote, F. Scott Fitzgerald, William Styron, Elizabeth Bishop, James Joyce, Raymond Chandler, William Faulkner – might have left behind even greater treasures than they did. Because Ernest Hemingway did almost everything with more gusto than any of his peers, including running up his bar tab, as a drinker he belongs in his own sentence. He is the novelist who most romanced a good drink or nice bottle of wine as one of life’s great pleasures. Who didn’t want to have a vermouth with Jake when reading The Sun Also Rises? (Don’t, it’s gross, at least if you order it at one of those kiosks in Montmartre where the bottles are hung upside down with spring-loaded dispensers.) Or, track down a bottle of Valdepeñas, Hemingway’s favourite variety of Spanish wine. Or, get a drink at the bar named after him at the Ritz, in Paris, and then go somewhere on the Left Bank to order “a dozen portugaises and a half-carafe of the dry white wine”.  In the early work, he is not boastful about drinking so much as he is the possessor of an unusual appetite for a good buzz. He is also, like Connolly, aware of the need to keep writing separate from drinking, and drinking within his control. It is hard to read the first paragraph of A Moveable Feast, in which he describes an “evilly run café where the drunkards of the quarter crowded together and I kept away from it because of the smell of dirty bodies and the sour smell of drunkenness”, except as a kind of terrifying admonition to himself. It is tragic that he didn’t heed his own advice. Late in his life, Hemingway became fond of rum daiquiris at the Floridita, his favourite bar in Havana, which might explain his taste for a prose style that soon became too often cloying self-parody. In one of the most extraordinary drinking sessions ever committed to words, in the roman à clef Across the River and Into the Trees, a 50-year-old Hemingway, who was smitten with a teenage Italian countess from Venice, fictionalises his infatuation with a last muse. In one stretch (that covers an evening-to-dawn crawl from Harry’s Bar, the grill at the Gritti Palace, a gondola and a hotel room), one half or another of the couple imbibes: one scotch whisky and soda; six Montgomery Martinis (15 parts gin; 1 part vermouth), two of which are described in size as ‘super’; a bottle of Capri Bianco; two bottles of Valpolicella; two bottles of Roederer Brut ’42; and two bottles of Perrier-Jouët. That is, I suppose, one extreme, and, clearly, not one to be tried at home.  The other might have been espoused by Dr. Samuel Johnson, the great critic and lexicographer. As a young man, he’d drained “many a bottle of wine” but loved port especially. (Perhaps Johnson, a devout Anglican who was born in 1709, in the midst of England’s 14-year war with Spain, also first encountered port as a boy at the Communion altar.) He describes himself to friend and biographer James Boswell as having been “apt to go to excess in it”, adding that, “therefore, after having been for some time without it, on account of illness, I thought it better not to return to it”.  Boswell, who worried about his own dependence on alcohol, even keeping a journal of his intake in an attempt to enforce moderation, argued for a third way, which some of the Romantics later adopted. Wine, he claimed, “produces truth; in vino veritas”. Hoping to persuade Johnson of his point, Boswell once convinced the critic to come down off the wagon for just one glass of claret, so Johnson “might judge, not from recollection, which might be dim, but from immediate sensation”. Boswell reports what happened after the glass was emptied: “Johnson shook his head, and said, ‘Poor stuff! No, Sir, claret is the liquor for boys; port, for men,’” adding, “‘A man would be drowned by it before it made him drunk.’”  That actually reminds me of something I think I forgot to mention about Riesling Kabinetts – they’re also highly admired for their low percentage of alcohol. On that note, I think I’ll have another glass.  This article was originally published in FONDATA, Issue Two.

Jay Fielden, former editor of Men’s Vogue, Town & Country and Esquire, recalls how a magazine column on wine, read in a Texas bookstore, shifted his ambitions beyond journalism and set him on the path to becoming a writer of books.

Former Esquire editor-in-chief Jay Fielden reflects on magazines, writing, Riesling Kabinett and the distractions that shaped a life in words and wine.

Jay Fielden on Wine, Words and Distraction

How one became another  

The Rhône Valley has enjoyed a consistent string of vintages over the last decade or so. The Northern Rhône in particular has seen a prolific set of back-to-back vintages stretching to 2015. The Southern Rhône has managed to produce excellent wines during this time too, but yields have been badly affected in the last few years; thankfully, 2020 gave them a healthy crop. Producers compare 2020 to 2006, 2010, 2016 and even 1990 – all memorable, age-worthy vintages with great character. Similarly, to 2016, 2020 was an “easy” growing season throughout the valley. Good rainfall at the beginning of the year set up the vines nicely for a hot, dry summer, with no mildew or rot in the vineyards. For Ch. de Beaucastel's Marc Perrin, “It was difficult to find something wrong with the vintage.” If anything, he noted the strong winds in Châteauneuf-du-Pape, particularly in the northern part, saw high levels of evaporation, which brought greater concentration to the grapes but reduced the yields. Despite this, production levels were much higher than the challenging 2017, 2018 and 2019 vintages (with severe drought in 2019, poor flowering and huge mildew outbreaks in 2018 and frost in 2017 seeing yields badly affected in the appellation). Stéphane Usseglio noted how successful flowering was in 2020, particularly for Grenache, setting up for good yields overall. Although the summer saw hot daytime temperatures, cool nights helped retain a noticeable freshness and balance to the wines in 2020, compared to the richer, more tannic wines of 2019, noted Perrin. There was no pressure to rush the harvest with any impending disruptions to the weather, and no serious rainfall arrived until long after everything had been picked. The higher yields and clement weather meant Usseglio could afford to wait, allowing for concentration to build up and pick at optimum ripeness. In the Northern Rhône, there hasn’t really been a below-average vintage since 2014. Recent years have, however, seen a new normal when it comes to daytime temperatures and resulting alcohol levels (which regularly hit 14-14.5%). According to Chapoutier, though, the vines have adapted and, even with more sun intensity and higher temperatures, are consistently producing balanced wines with great acidity. While in numbers 2020 might compete with the heatwave of 2003, the resulting wines are very different thanks to the way the vines have adapted over the last 20 years. Nicolas Champagneux agrees and believes the acidities of his Côte-Rôtie are getting higher along with the alcohol, balancing the wine. In the Southern Rhône, 2020’s alcohol levels are very similar to previous warm years but the wines, according to Usseglio, “have a better freshness”. He thinks this is thanks to the winter water reserves, helping maintain a sufficient flow of nutrients to the vines to see them through the summer. Usseglio’s vines didn’t shut down at all – something he thinks is at least in part due to his biodynamic farming. It is this practice, he believes, that has contributed to “high mineral salt concentrations, and hence more freshness and mineral structure in the wines”. Both the whites and reds we have tried from the Northern and Southern Rhône are hard to fault. The whites from Chapoutier were exceptional. While Beaucastel’s Marc Perrin has a slight preference for the reds in the Southern Rhône, the whites we tasted were very elegant, pure, highly concentrated and beautifully balanced. The reds have fantastic richness, resolved tannins and freshness too. For Nicolas Champagneux, 2020 is “a typical sun-blessed year” for the Northern Rhône, comparing it to 2018. “This vintage offers a nice combination of fruit purity and terroir expression with rather solid structure and good acidities,” he says. He thinks the vintage will be “long-lived, while offering enjoyable wines in their relative youth” . For Perrin, the red wines’ balance, intensity and concentration remind him of 1990 and 2010. The wines are quite approachable, yet also have the potential for long ageing. For Usseglio, 2020 is a “terroir-driven vintage, offering elegant, vibrant wines”. For him 2020 has “a splendid fruit purity” and “good concentration”, but is fresher, with better aromatics than recent warm vintages. “I find the wines very enjoyable. I have to say maybe a hybrid between the silky, lush fruit of the 2016 and the mineral core of the 2010.” That’s a combination that will no doubt get any fine wine collector excited. This is a vintage not to miss. The vintage in summary Outstanding vintage Compared to some of the best vintages in the last 20 years – 2016, 2010, 2006, 1990 Balanced, concentrated and fresh reds Ideal growing season saw few issues in the vineyard Early-season rainfall kept the vines hydrated through the hot and dry summer Cool night-time temperatures extended the ripening season, retaining plenty of acidity/ freshness in the grapes Ambient weather throughout harvest allowed winemakers to pick at optimum ripeness Healthy yields saw good volume and good quality grapes in both the Northern and Southern Rhône Read more Editorial

Speaking with some of the region’s top vignerons in both the Northern and Southern Rhône about 2020, it is smiles all round. Not since the outstanding 2016s has there been such universal praise for a vintage. 

Not since the outstanding 2016s has there been such universal praise for a wine vintage in the Rhone Valley. Producers compare 2020 to 2006, 2010, 2016 & 1990

Rhône 2020 vintage report

Rhône 2020: the stars align

The growing season The winter was mild with plenty of rainfall to replenish water reserves. The mild winter, combined with a dry spring, led to early budbreak, followed by a cold snap in April and May with pockets of hail and frost, and late flowering. June brought a heatwave – kicking off a warm, dry summer. Between June and mid-September, seven in 10 days exceeded 30˚C. At Domaine Saint-Préfert, Isabel Ferrando saw the mercury rise as high as 44.3˚C on 28th June. Having sufficient canopy to shade the grapes sufficiently was key, with a risk of sunburnt grapes – something not everyone escaped. Stéphane Usseglio reported that June’s rainfall was the same as in 2017, putting it amongst the driest years since 2004.  While the spring frost and hail had caused little significant damage, a torrential hailstorm on June 15th caused serious damage in Crozes-Hermitage. Golf-ball-sized hailstones pounded vineyards for 20 minutes and some producers lost as much as 80% of their crop. Fortunately, it was a localised attack. The dry weather meant the fruit at harvest was disease-free, with picking starting in early September. Some rain arrived on 18th September (15mm), welcomed by producers such as Ferrando who felt it added additional balance to the grapes. The growing season’s dry conditions produced small berries that produced very little juice, meaning yields were down by up to 40% (or more in Crozes). The wine made, however, benefited from more concentration thanks to the high skin-to-juice ratio. The wines Much as with Burgundy 2019, producers were surprised by the level of acidity in the juice and wines, which offsets the ripeness and concentration of the warm conditions. Where producers picked at the right moment, the resulting wines are outstanding and have great balance. In general, the South fared better than the North, with Grenache and Mourvèdre better suited to handling the hot, dry conditions.  Stéphane Usseglio describes the 2019s as "rich, complex, profound and velvety, opulent as Châteauneuf-du-Pape can be, yet surprisingly fresh, given the nature of the vintage.” He felt that his biodynamic practices (certified since 2015) were key in countering the effects of warmer years like 2019; using a chamomile tea spray to reduce hydric stress, for example. He is also tweaking work in the winery, with fermentation temperatures in recent years now cooler – around 26˚C (previously 32˚C) – to preserve the wines’ fresh fruit character. His vineyards are divided equally between stony and sandy soils, but felt both produced different but excellent, concentrated and lush wines in 2019. It was, however, the old-vine Grenache on
La Crau that goes into his Cuvée Impériale that stands out, and he feels it is the finest rendition of the wine since 2010.  Isabel Ferrando also emphasised the balance of the wines – with a natural concentration and acidity that implies long ageing potential. She felt that her Colombis cuvée – sourced from sandy plots – really excelled, as did her plots of Cinsault and Clairette. Saint-Préfert’s old-vine Cinsault (planted in 1928) is now going into a varietal wine, F601 and it is “explosive, full of fruit” in 2019; while she found Clairette’s natural minerality and liveliness, meanwhile, really comes through in the vintage. Overall, she finds the wines “spectacular, deep and energetic”; it is undoubtedly, in her view, a great vintage. Perrin noted the balance, finesse and complexity of the year; while Chapoutier highlights the elegance of the reds and particular minerality of the whites. Claire Darnaud at Delas compares the vintage to 2009 in style, but with more minerality holding everything together – something she attributes to the granite in her vineyards. This mineral feel is what for her prevents the wines feeling overly ripe or plump. Usseglio compares the 2019s to the stunning 2016s, but with a little something extra. He considers it “a hybrid between the concentrated and muscular 2005, and the elegant 2006”. Others are comparing the year to 1990; but the ageing potential of the best wines is clear.  The critics’ view Not everyone’s reports on the vintage have been published but the year has so far been well reviewed. Wine Advocate’s Joe Czerwinski noted late last year that the few 2019s he’d tasted “the reds… show ample ripeness and concentration without any evidence of cooked fruit, while the 2019 whites as a group look excellent, particularly those from Clos des Papes and Domaine du Pegau.” Josh Reynolds (Vinous) describes 2019 as “a vintage of extremely high quality and… the fifth straight stellar year for the region”. He emphasises the freshness and detail in the wines – a surprising trait in a year with such hot, dry conditions – with “an uncanny blend of depth and vivacity”. Jeb Dunnuck (who will report fully on the wines once bottled) feels they are a step up from the 2018s, offering “more depth, concentration, and richness, all while showing considerable purity of fruit and elegance”. Like the producers, he notes the wines’ “focused and lively” style, with “impressive aromatics” and no sign of over-ripeness. He also highlights the beautiful tannins the warm conditions produced, feeling they are concentrated with “serious potential” and feeling it will be “near the top of the pyramid in modern-day vintages”. Browse all Rhône wines

The 2019 vintage has produced some stunning wines across France. As with Bordeaux and Burgundy, it has proven to be an excellent year for the Rhône – one in a series of stunning “nines” (joining the ranks of 1979, ’89, ’99 and 2009). We talk to some of the region’s leading producers

2019 Rhône vintage report on an excellent year that produced wines of concentration and balance


Rhône 2019 vintage report

Rhône 2019: vintage report

Ogni novembre, il mondo del vino guarda alla Borgogna per l'asta degli Hospices de Beaune. Ci immergiamo nella storia di questa istituzione filantropica, della tenuta e dei vini che produce.

Explore the history of Burgundy’s Hotel-Dieu and Hospices de Beaune, its wine estate and the famous annual auction, the Vente des Vins

Your guide to the wines of the Hospices de Beaune

Tutto quello che c'è da sapere sugli Hospices de Beaune

Raymond Usseglio

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