A family vineyard · one slope · Beaune
Nine hectares on one chalk slope, farmed by the fourth generation of the same family. We make three wines, bottle nothing in a hurry, and let each vintage keep the weather it was given.
A vintage, honestly
Every bottle is a year-long argument with the weather. These are the four moments that decide it.
The slope turns green in a week and the frost-watch begins — four generations in, a cold April night is still the only thing that frightens us.
Picked by hand in the cool of the morning, the whole village on the slope. The date is decided by tasting berries, never by the calendar.
Wild ferment, then into oak — a third of it new, no more. The cellar goes quiet and stays that way on purpose.
Eighteen months later, unfined, unfiltered, unhurried. If the vintage was lean, the wine says so. We consider that a feature.
The wines
One slope doesn't need a long list. It needs attention.
The estate
You don't make wine. You keep it company.
The cellar
The cellar was cut into the chalk in 1846 and has needed no improvement since — a constant eleven degrees, one bare bulb per aisle, and the smell of a century and a half of patient evaporation the trade politely calls the angels' share.
Barrels are topped by hand on Fridays. It takes the whole morning. There are faster ways, and we know what they taste like.
The visitors' book
We came for one tasting on a rainy Tuesday and left three hours later having helped top barrels. My shirt still smells faintly of the cellar. I refuse to wash it.
Marguerite poured the '19 and the '21 side by side and said 'same slope, different year — now you know us.' Best wine education I've had in one sentence.
I asked why the white was so good in a hot year. I received a forty-minute walk to the east rows. Ask nothing here unless you truly want to know.
Visit
One oak bench under the walnut tree, six seats, the three wines and whoever of the family is nearest the door. An hour, unhurried.
Visitors pick a date and time here, then leave their details.
The estate
Bottles are sold from the cellar door and nowhere else — bring a sturdy bag and opinions. The Quiet Barrel is spoken for by autumn most years.