Silence and scandal in Bordeaux

The tower of Ch. Latour

Although my past few posts have all been Bordeaux-centric, that is not the norm. For someone who spends much of their day job drafting offers for the grandest wines of Bordeaux, I've written relatively little about the region.

It's the region that got me hooked on wine. I was interested in wine already, but a taste of 1989 Ch. Margaux made me realise how disarming, complex and enchanting it could be. A taste of 1989 Ch. Haut-Brion made me realise it could be life-changing.

Yet, while I've always loved the wines, I'm guilty of neglecting them - both in the glass and in the written word. I've found it all too easy to consider the region a little anonymous, lacking in the stories, personalities and evolution that makes me tick. Of course, that's entirely unfair, and based merely on the fact that I haven't had the chance to explore the region as much as I'd like. This year was the first time that I was immersed in en primeur fully - even if from afar. Since April, I've spoken to many of Bordeaux's most talented and famous winemakers, and there have been stories aplenty.

Two articles have emerged and made their way into (digital) print in recent weeks. The first was a conversation with Jean Garandeau of Ch. Latour, delving into why the star estate seems to avoid the limelight (and talking about its undeniably world-class wines, even to me).

Most recently, I dove headfirst into the scandal of St Emilion's classification system. I could have written a lot more (and that says a lot, given you'll find 2,500 words or so here), but it was fascinating, and I can't wait to follow the story as it unfolds - both with the 2022 classification, and the results of the ongoing court case.

Find both articles on frw.co.uk/editorial