As an April baby, this month has always marked the Earth’s return. Obviously, I celebrate my own journey around the sun, but I’m not alone. The astrological calendar begins anew, with almost every major religion observing some holy day, and the singular bleeding heart flower that grows in my backyard springs to life. Newness is the prevailing energy at this time of year, brought about by our collective sheer force of will. Despite the difficulties of winter—the darkness, the cold—we soldier on. April is our reward.
What a sweet reward it can be. I tend to hibernate in the winter, spending more time at home, drinking plenty of water, and exchanging an evening glass of wine for a multi-hour-long bath. (Why not both? The wine gets too hot.) Once we gain an extra hour of sunlight, I make a complete turnaround and ponder all the fun things I can do and all the delicious drinks I can drink. This bag of treats comes to mind first: sparkling wine from alpine slopes in France, where people ski in t-shirts this time of year; chiseled Riesling from gray-slate vineyards in Germany that bask in the morning sun; low-intervention Chenin Blanc, dazzling in all its acid-drenched glory; low-alcohol, South African Cinsault, perfect for chilling; fruit-forward, food-friendly red wine from the south of France, not too far from where it borders Spain; and an island red, imbued with spice and sea. We’re not quite in rosé weather yet, but I can feel it approaching. For now, I relish settling into Spring.
Cheers,
Dylan
NV Jean Vullien & Fils Crémant de Savoie: Maybe it’s the ethereal alpine location; maybe it’s the centuries-old castles that speckle the mountainsides; maybe it’s the raclette and fondue; there’s just something downright magical about Savoie. This small, mountainous region sits along the French border of Switzerland, and it’s producing some of the best value bottles in the world. This is especially true of the white and sparkling bottles from Savoie, largely featuring the region’s native varieties, like Jacquère and Altesse.
Domaine Jean Vullien et Fils is a stalwart domaine, a perfect prism through which to view the pristine nature of Savoie. They are not just winemakers, though. For over a century, the family has also run a vine nursery—Vullien Pépinière Viticole—which supplies vines to growers throughout France. (They provided about 25% of the Chardonnay planted in Chablis after the region was ravaged by phylloxera in the 19th century.)
Made in the champenoise method, this sparkler is a blend of Jacquere, Altesse, and Chardonnay, all planted on south-facing slopes in the heart of the Combe de Savoie. On the nose, it’s lemon zest, frangipane, and orchard fruit; on the palate, it’s an elegant mix of apple with bright citrus and minerals. There’s a sense of seriousness with the mousse, which is rich and creamy. The whole thing marks the turning point between levity and gravity.
2021 Weingut Dönnhoff Dry Slate Tonschiefer Riesling: Dönnhoff is one of the great Riesling houses of Germany. Seriously, it's a benchmark producer! A best-in-class winery! The house that helped put the Nahe on the map! The Nahe? It's one of the smallest and most geologically diverse regions in Germany. It follows the Nahe River and runs parallel to the Mosel. Dönnhoff’s home lies in the middle Nahe, characterized by old clay-slate formations and rich volcanic soil. They have been farming in this region for over 250 years.
The total estate spans 28 hectares, comprising nine Grand Cru sites. It's entirely dry farmed, meaning the vines are not irrigated, which encourages deep rooting into the ground. This bottle is primarily sourced from Dönnhoff’s Oberhauser Leistenberg vineyards, the original vineyard for the family. It’s named Tonschiefer, which translates to clay slate, the predominant soil type at the site.
It's somewhat outrageous that this is considered one of the more entry-level wines in the Dönnhoff lineup; it drinks top tier. The screw cap belies the intense, pristine juice inside, all white peach, wet stone, citrus. The palate is a crystalline, acid-lined wonder. It’s linear and focused—and ultra dry. Exquisite and precise, hallmarks of Dönnhoff. If you think you don’t like Rieslings because they have to be sweet, get ready for a big ah-ha moment here. I can’t wait to change some minds with this bottle.
2022 Domaine Bobinet Poil de Lievre Chenin Blanc: In the before times—back in 2018, to be precise—I went to France to celebrate my 30th birthday. Accompanied by my now-husband and two friends, we puttered around a rainy Paris before taking off on a road trip through the Loire Valley and Normandy. Jet lag affected each of us differently, and on my actual birthday, I awoke before the sun. While my companions slept, I wandered through the pre-dawn pink-hued streets of the Marais, awaiting the opening of the first bakery. Bonjour madame, quatre croissant, s'il vous plait. Armed with pastry, I returned home, and roused the team for our day.
It was a masterclass in laissez-faire. We walked miles across the city, zigzagging our way from the third arrondissement to the Centre Pompidou, along the Seine to the Louvre and Jardin des Tuileries. We circled back, crossed Pont Neuf to the Latin quarter and the Sorbonne, where I had studied French 11 years prior as a plucky young student. We strolled through the Jardin du Luxembourg, eventually settling at a sun-soaked café where we ordered quiche and vin blanc from a chalkboard menu. Satiated, we returned north, back across the river to our home for the week, and napped until evening was upon us.
A light rain fell on Paris that evening. A friend from Seattle, living in the city at the time, suggested we meet at La Buvette for a drink. Situated in the 11th arrondissement, the buzzy heart of Paris' new food scene, La Buvette is a chic, diminutive wine bar. By 2018, the trendy spot had been open for five years, enough time that a few Seattle friends warned me that it “didn't live up to the hype.” I tend to think hype is bullshit, so we proceeded undeterred.
La Buvette is a small operation, a one-woman show featuring a handful of bottles. Naturally, I loved it, and despite her reputation for being aloof, the owner welcomed us warmly. We found a spot at the zinc countertop bar and were poured a toast of sparkling wine to celebrate the occasion—my birthday, yes, but also the simple joy of being alive and in Paris. We read through the menu, hastily written on a large mirror on the wall. When our expatriate joined us, she suggested the next bottle: Domaine Bobinet Poil de Lievre.
The bottle arrived adorned with a line-drawn rabbit sporting human hands, the name of the wine translating to "hair of hare." We were informed that it was painstakingly crafted by a couple outside of Saumur in the Loire Valley, our next destination on the trip. (Later, I discovered that this wine, these people, have a bit of a cult following.) The juice inside was a touch cloudy but smelled as clean as a whistle—a blend of fallen apples, honeysuckle, Italian lemon ice, and your neighborhood plant shop on the first day of spring. The palate was lemon-drenched and laser-focused, with just a touch of leesy opulence. This wine was, and still is, everything that’s wonderful about Chenin Blanc. It also represents the best of the natural wine category, an interesting bottle that is well-made and terroir-focused.
I knew I wanted to include this wine in our first April wine club because not a single April goes by without me recalling that evening. The city cobblestones slick with rain, the buzzing space filled with bodies, the unparalleled joy of sipping wine in Paris. When I yearn for an evening in Paris but it feels too distant, this is the bottle I reach for.
2022 Craven Stellenbosch Cinsault: I was totally smitten when I tasted this wine a few weeks ago. It’s ideal for this time of year, a light and vibrant red perfect for the dinner table. It hails from Stellenbosch, arguably the most renowned wine-producing region in South Africa. Situated in the Coastal Region of the Western Cape, Stellenbosch is home to many of the country’s most celebrated wineries. The vineyards of Stellenbosch sprawl across rolling terrain, with diverse terroirs nestled amidst varying elevations. This particular bottle comes from a sub-region called Bottelary Hills, a collection of low hills that run between Table Mountain and the Cape Fold Mountains.
Winemaking duo Mick and Jeanine Craven embarked on a years-long quest in search of Cinsault vines. Finally, in 2017, they found this small parcel of dry-farmed, bush vines in the Rustenhof vineyard. Just three miles from the ocean, these vines were planted on granitic sand over 30 years ago. The vineyard is farmed organically, and every step taken by the Cravens in the cellar aims to highlight the terroir of this special place. The grapes are hand-harvested, fermented with native yeast, and aged in concrete. The result is like cherries, eucalyptus, and purple flowers crushed against Table Mountain itself; a mess of fruit, herbs, flowers, and minerals. The minerality here is wild, intricately weaving its way through the entire palate—infiltrating everywhere. The best wines from South Africa seem to effortlessly blend the new and old world. Precise and carefree, restrained and generous, traditional and boundary-breaking.
2022 Olivier Pithon Mon P'tit Pithon Rouge: Olivier Pithon was born into a family of winemakers in the Loire Valley. He spent his youth playing in the vines, and started working in them when he was only 14. He was destined to be a winemaker, it’s where he would end up making wine that was in question. He worked in Bordeaux, Beaujolais, and Jurançon before landing in the tiny village of Calce. Located on the eastern end of the Agly Valley, Calce sits at the foot of the Pyrenees, closer to Spain than most of France. The soils here were formed in the last ice age, when the slate massif of the Pyrenees collided with the limestone massif of Corbieres. Calce holds all the folds and faults of that geological event. This region has been renowned for winemaking for centuries, but is relatively unknown, even in professional wine circles.
A month after Olivier first visited Calce, he purchased 8.5 hectares of old vines. That is now 25 hectares, farmed biodynamically and organically. This bottle comes from a partnership with farmers from neighboring villages who are converting to organic viticulture. A blend of Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvedre, this is a gusher through and through, all round and tart berry fruit with zippy citrus acidity. It’s thirst quenching. I love the touch of garrigue here, which is the low-growing vegetation that climbs across the limestone hills of the Mediterranean coastline. It lines the generous fruit on display, reminding us that we are in the south of France. This is a year-round stunner, easily enjoyed with something braised on an unusually cold April day, or consumed with easter Lamb and spring veg.
2017 Contini Inu Cannonau Riserva: Sometimes, life gets in the way of living. The trip gets canceled due to family or postponed because of work and suddenly, you’ve never been to Santorini. Or Australia. Or driven through Big Sur. That is one of the things I love so much about wine—in a world full of responsibilities that sometimes prevent us from doing all of the things we want to do, wine provides a little getaway. Wine lets us into places that we’ve never been, it introduces us to people we’ve never met, and it fills us with the hope of possibility.
And over the last few years, I’ve come to believe few wines do this better than island wines. Wines built and born by the sea, volcanoes, and thousand-year-old civilizations, island wines are rich in ancient history. They are reminiscent of the places they come from—built by the unique terroir and culture of a land removed from the rest of the world by geography.
For example: Contini from Sardinia. Between a wild, mountainous interior and the sandy beaches that run along the 1,149 miles of coastline, Sardinia’s soil ranges from actual sea sand to cracked, pebbled granite. These broadly ranging types of earth lend themselves to many different grapes, giving Sardinia a robust and divergent portfolio. Contini is the oldest continuously operating winery on the island, and they not only explore all that Sardinia has to offer, they have a booming export business that gets it into our hands.
One of the island's most famous grapes is gravely, sun-soaked Cannonau. Cannonau is Sardinian-grown Grenache, representing one out of every five bottles produced on the Island. This bottle is about 90% Cannonau, filled out with a smattering of other indigenous grapes of the region. It grows in high elevation volcanic, sandy, clay soils, building character through mild winters and extraordinarily hot and windy summers.
It’s a downright brooding bottle, full of red and black fruit, leather, dried flowers and herbs, and smoky, spice-tinged rocks. It’s got a signature Italian funk; deep, bass notes of volcanic earth. It is in a fabulous place six years post vintage. The tannins are still bold but mellowing, the acidity keeps things from getting too heavy, and the general rusticity is charming as heck. Grenache has the potential to be so evocative, and Sardinian-grown versions exemplify that splendidly. Save this one for the year’s first BBQ.