It doesn’t clamor for attention—it doesn’t need to. There’s a quiet confidence here, something deeper than boldness, something rooted in time. A vineyard planted in the 1890s, vines that have seen generations pass, their roots sunk deep into the land. This is patience in a glass.
You take a sip, and it unfolds like a story only the soil remembers. A field blend of over 15 heritage grapes, each adding a thread to the tapestry. Ripe blackberries and violets give way to garrigue and spice, an earthy whisper beneath the surface. The tannins are silk-lined, the acidity poised, the balance seamless.
The finish lingers—not demanding, not urgent, just knowing. A wine like this doesn’t rush. Neither should you.
A plate of aged Comté, its nutty depth mirroring the wine’s complexity. Slow-roasted duck, crisp and rich. Or nothing at all—just the glass, the moment, and the quiet understanding that some things are meant to be savoured.
Area: France, Corbières Grapes: Field blend of over 15 heritage varieties
