Featured Producer
Henri Perrusset
A few decades ago, in a small, local vigneron hangout in the Beaujolais, Kermit and Henri Perrusset met rather serendipitously. There weren’t enough tables in the restaurant and the hostess seated Kermit with Henri, who was just finishing up his meal. Their conversation blossomed, and Henri invited Kermit to visit and taste his first vintage. We have been buying these delicious, distinctive Chardonnays ever since. For decades, the Mâconnais has been dominated by the banal bottlings of cooperative cellars; not the sort of quality that leads novices to explore the wines of the region. But at the same time, Henri Perrusset has been working his vineyards by hand, reducing his yields to improve grape quality, all while offering us very reasonable prices.Henri Perrusset’s vineyards and home are located in the small town of Farges-les-Mâcon, on the northernmost spur of the limestone subsoil that characterizes the appellation of Mâcon. Farges is not far away from the village named (believe it or not) Chardonnay. The limestone in Farges is more marly than the compact limestone farther south in Pouilly-Fuissé. It is hard and intensely white, but breaks apart into small pieces and it is loaded with quartz and marine fossils as well. This type of soil is easier to work despite all the stones, provides great drainage for the vines, and gives the wines their grainy minerality. Our Mâcon-Farges bottling comes uniquely from a parcel of old vines, while the Mâcon-Villages is a custom blend of all his other holdings around Farges. These are Chardonnays with the ripeness and intensity level of a Pouilly-Fuissé or even a Saint-Aubin, with the particular goût de terroir of Henri’s corner of Mâcon.
Clos La Coutale
Deep in the southwest of France, amidst dramatic rock formations and cliffs, the Lot River slowly snakes its way along the valley floor, coiling covetously around the charming town of Cahors. The diversity in architecture serves as a proud historical mark left by many previous generations of inhabitants. Once a former Roman town, Cahors was also as a center of commerce during the Middle Ages that served as an important crossroads for pilgrims on the trail to Santiago de Compostella. Among the many specialties that have brought pride to the region, the constant has been its wine. A.O.C. Cahors is known as the “black wine” of the Southwest—the deeply inky, earthy wines that seem to complement the regional fare of duck (and duck fat!) so wonderfully. Cahors is also the birthplace of Cot, the grape more commonly known as Malbec. The Bernède family is an intricate part of this tradition, watching over one of the region’s oldest domaines that was founded before the French Revolution.Today, Cahors’ jack-of-all-trades and Renaissance man, Philippe Bernède, continues the family tradition with both heart and ingenuity. Philippe’s vines rest upon the gentle slopes that rise up from the Lot River. He farms sixty hectares of land along the alluvial terraces of the Lot Valley that are rich in siliceous, clay, and limestone soils. The microclimate of the vineyards is ideal, with southwest sun exposure and topographic protection against the frost. Over the years, Philippe has tinkered with the house blend to achieve a greater equilibrium. Today, the blend consists of 80% Malbec and 20% Merlot, creating an intense wine that juggles elegant rusticity with everyday drinkability. Coutale has quite a record of age-worthiness as well and Philippe is not afraid to pull out older vintages of his wines alongside much more expensive Bordeaux. They stand up pretty well! Nothing beats a bécasse or cassoulet with an old Coutale, but a simple steak fits the bill just fine. Philippe’s genius is not only evidenced by his wines—he is also the proud inventor of a successful line of double-hinged corkscrews that stands to change your future bottle-opening experiences!
Charly Thévenet
Growing up the son of famous “Gang of Four” Morgon producer Jean-Paul Thévenet, Charly Thévenet was exposed quite early on to traditional, more natural viticulture—a philosophy that his father and friends helped to resurrect in Beaujolais in the early eighties. Though only in his twenties, Charly has already started a dynamic career. A few years ago, with extensive experience working for his father and in Marcel Lapierre’s winery already under his belt, he purchased a parcel of eighty-year-old vines in Régnié, west-southwest of his hometown of Villié-Morgon. Régnié is a terroir enjoying something of its own renaissance in the hands of talented growers like Charly and his dad’s pal, Guy Breton. In fact, Regnié has joined the short list of Grand Crus in the Beaujolais. Situated on a plateau of seabed stone in the foothills of the Côte du Py, it gives a fresh wine with solid acidity.As the next generation of the natural wine movement, Charly seems to have inherited his father’s savoir faire. He uses biodynamic farming techniques in the vineyard, never adding synthetic herbicides, pesticides, or fungicides to the vines. He harvests late, with an aggressive sorting of the grapes, adds minimal doses of sulfur dioxide, ages the wine in four-year-old Burgundian barriques, and bottles his wines unfiltered. Add a dose of that Thévenet talent, and you have a recipe for excellent wine! The 2007 vintage marked his first release and his first collaboration with KLWM.
We are unanimously impressed with this rising star.
Domaine Achard-Vincent
The countryside known as the Diois is located in the Drôme Valley around Die (pronounced “Dee”), east of the Rhône in between Valence and Montélimar. It is also the home of the appellation Clairette de Die, derived from its former name, Dea Augusta, during the Roman Empire. The great historian Pliny the Elder was the first to record the greatness of the Clairette and Muscat here, celebrating a pétillance and freshness widely believed to predate those of Champagne. Among the most well-known of Clairette de Die’s producers today is the tiny Domaine Achard-Vincent. Jean-Pierre Achard, and his son, Thomas, descend from five generations of growers. The domaine has farmed organically since Thomas’s grandparents were directing it, although it is now officially certified as both organic (since 1982) and biodynamic (since 2007). Though French certification agencies have stricter criteria than those of the United States, incompatible legislation between the two countries, believe it or not, has forced all mentions of their methodology off labels imported into the U.S.Though the name Clairette de Die suggests the emphasis of the Clairette grape which goes into the blends, it is actually the Muscat à petits grains for which the appellation is best known. The Clairette de Die “Tradition” uses the méthode dioise, an ancestral method that allows a secondary fermentation in the bottle without dosage, because the wine is bottled with residual sugar remaining, typically at 6% alcohol. The bottles are then decanted off of their lees and rebottled under pressure following the secondary fermentation. The Clairette de Die “Brut” is made using the méthode champenoise, or méthode traditionnelle. The “Tradition” is slightly sweet and benefits from low alcohol levels around 7%. The “Brut” is comprised of 100% Clairette and is fermented dry at only 11% alcohol. The delicate liveliness of the wines from Domaine Achard-Vincent makes them refreshing, delicious, and perfect as an aperitif, dessert, or brunch wine. The Brut has become a staff favorite, and Kermit selected it to begin a big Thanksgiving feast this year.
Azienda Santa Barbara
As with every region in Italy, the Marche is a world all unto itself. On Italy’s less traveled Adriatic coast, in between Emilia-Romagna and Abruzzo, the Marche is relatively sparsely populated, and largely composed of gently rolling hills, green with agriculture, that end along steep limestone bluffs on the coast. This is the home of the Verdicchio grape, whose name comes from the root verde, describing both the greenish hue of the grapes and the resulting wine. The Castelli di Jesi DOC is one of the largest of the zones in which Verdicchio is grown, and surrounds the town of Jesi and its ancient fortifications.Verdicchio, also known as Trebbiano di Soave, has been cultivated in the Marche for many centuries. It is capable of making vibrantly fresh and crisp white wines that are a wonderful accompaniment to seafood. The Riserva bottlings can age gracefully. From Azienda Santa Barbara we have a wine in the former camp. During a recent tasting trip in the Marche, this stainless steel tank vinified Verdicchio was one of the stars among many, many wines tasted. The perfume is entrancing—at once fresh and rounded, and typical of the grape. There is absolutely no pretension. Pure Verdicchio, vinified and aged with no makeup, with a bit of prickly CO2 left in the bottle to keep it sprightly. Owner Stefano Antonucci has a three-decade track record of creating benchmark wines from the Marche and we are excited to bring our clients this Verdicchio as our first import from this little-known region of Italy.
Vigne Rada
A banker by trade, Luigi “Gino” Bardino long entertained a dream of exiting the stagnant office environment and devoting his life to wine, his true passion. After years of studying enology in his spare time and numerous experimental vinifications in his Alghero home, Gino finally quit his desk job to follow his heart’s desire. With the support of his family, he planted his own vineyards and built a small winery, and in 2012 Vigne Rada saw its first harvest.The city of Alghero lies on the northwest coast of Sardegna, surrounded by stunning beaches and breathtaking limestone cliffs on either side. Conquered by the Catalans in the 14th century, it enjoys a unique culture with notable Catalan influence in its architecture, cuisine, and even the local dialect. Conditions here are ideal for growing high-quality grapes: fresh maritime breezes and the drying maestrale moderate the Mediterranean heat, while the poor, rocky soils are perfectly suited to the production of balanced, characterful wines.
Gino chose only traditional grape varieties to the region, planting one hectare each year between two distinct terroirs. Monte Pedrosu, where the winery is located, features sandy and clayey alluvial soils with abundant riverbed stones and quartz, while the sloping Cubalciada site is home to clay, limestone, and some chalk. Farming is sustainable, by hand, with help from the whole family.
Vigne Rada’s Vermentino is reminiscent of wildflowers and Mediterranean herbs, with a mouth-coating texture and clean, saline finish. Delightfully crisp in its youth, it reveals a surprising complexity and depth with bottle age. The bright, plush Cannonau emphasizes freshness over extraction, showcasing a lovely purity of fruit and caressing texture on the palate. Cagnulari, on the other hand, represents a local specialty of Alghero: this dark, potent red is full of sweet spices, black fruit, and tobacco aromas—there is nothing quite like it.
Like the man behind them, the wines of Vigne Rada are honest and straightforward—the result of a skilled artisan’s genuine passion for his craft. They deliciously reflect the coastal beauty of Alghero, and we are thrilled to offer them for the first time in the U.S.
Domaine François Lumpp
In the late 1970s, François Lumpp and his brother inherited their family property, located in the Côte Chalonnaise. In 1991 he founded his own label with his wife, Isabelle. Using cuttings of older, selected bud wood (sélection massale), François developed his domaine around Givry's best premier cru sites, which, as in most of the Côte d’Or, are situated on the mid to upper level slopes of the rolling hillsides.Givry, along with Mercurey, is one of the two predominantly red wine producing appellations of the Côte Chalonnaise, while the neighboring appellations of Bouzeron, Rully, and Montagny produce primarily white wine. Givry is known for its refined and approachable reds, whereas Mercurey can often be harder and more austere when young. The best examples of Givry can have substantial structure, depth, and complexity, however, and can be expected to age as successfully as the premier crus of the Côte de Beaune, which is certainly the case at this address. François was one of the first to believe in the potential of Givry’s terroir for white Burgundy, and is reputed for his white today. His Chardonnays are a study in grace and balance.
The Lumpp domaine is an especially good fit here at KLWM because it embodies exactly what we have always looked for in Burgundy: a true vigneron in a specific village. Every wine François makes is from Givry, from vineyards that he planted and nurtured himself–something that is exceedingly rare in Burgundy today, and will become more and more so over time. An acknowledged leader of the appellation, his greatest achievement is harnessing the finesse we look for in Burgundian Pinot Noir—le Pinot fin.
Pascal Janvier
Pascal Janvier never planned on becoming a vigneron. Though his parents had vineyard land of their own, they did not make their own wine. Instead, he went to school to learn butchery. However, Pascal made a sudden about-face at the age of thirty and decided to study winegrowing in Amboise. His serious and soft-spoken demeanor reflects a man prone to quiet contemplation and great deliberation. His decision was anything but a whim. Starting slowly, he has mastered his craft with a focus and passion that is contributing towards the revival of the small appellation of Jasnières, in the department of the Sarthe in the Val du Loir. The Loir is a tributary of the Loire River, and its viticultural area is the most northerly (and coldest) of the greater Loire region. The once proud appellations of Jasnières and the Coteaux du Loir (the preferred wines of King Henri IV) are now all but extinct, with still less than one hundred and two hundred hectares still respectively under vine. Pascal, with the help of his wife Dominique, is doing his part to remind everyone what Jasnières is capable of.The Janviers rent sixty-six different parcels (a total of nine hectares) of land and farm it entirely themselves. Jasnières produces some of the best dry Chenin Blanc (Pineau de la Loire) in the world, and its wines are said to reach their peak ten years after the vintage. The soils of their parcels are comprised of clay, limestone, sand and silex (flint), and are planted primarily to Chenin Blanc. KLWM imports one bottling of their red, made from the lighter-bodied and elegant indigenous red grape, Pineau d’Aunis. Their “Cuvée du Silex” parcel has distinct flint in the soil, lending notes of gunpowder to this beautiful, crisp Chenin. There is no doubt that Pascal and Dominique have chosen the path less traveled, though at the first sip of their wine, one understands why they keep working so hard. Their stunning aromatics and complexity prove them to be one of the greatest values in the KLWM Loire Valley Portfolio, along with the celebrated wines of Château d’Epiré. If over-alcoholic wines are getting to you, Pascal Janvier’s wines are a great refuge.
André & Michel Quenard
The Savoie is a picture of fairy-tale perfection: snow-capped peaks, green rolling hills, wildflowers, and cold, sparkling mountain streams. This idyllic region hugs the western Alps, where Michel Quenard farms twenty-two hectares of vineyards along the steep, terraced slopes of the Coteau de Torméry around Chignin. The limestone scree that dominates this vineyard land has brought great diversity to the soils, and consequently, the wines. His grandfather started the domaine in the 1930s. Though he slowly increased the vineyard holdings, he also sold off most of his wine in bulk. It was not until 1960 that Michel’s father, André, began bottling under their own label. Michel joined the domaine in 1976. Today, he is joined by his two sons, Guillaume and Romain. While they are far from the only Quenards in Chignin, they are certainly the most well-known—perhaps this is due to the severity of their terrain and the quality of wines it produces. Andrew Jefford writes in his contemporary classic, The New France, “Michel Quenard and his father André are masters of the Bergeron grape, known in the Rhône Valley and elsewhere as Roussanne. They argue it should be limited to the best and steepest local sites where it can ripen fully, like the Coteau de Torméry, giving wines of real texture and perfume as it does so.” (p 122). We think it is one of the most unique and beautiful renditions of Roussanne in the world.Despite the domaine’s proximity to the Alps, the vineyards enjoy a surprisingly warm microclimate with southern sun exposure. Fig and olive trees are also found among the vines, unusual for such a snowy region. There are sixteen crus in the Vin de Savoie designation, and each commune is known for a different grape varietal. Michel’s vineyards are planted to some of the region’s best known: Bergeron, Jacquère, Mondeuse, Altesse, and Pinot Noir. Michel bottles eight different cuvées, seven of which are still, and the other a sparkling Vin de Savoie Brut, which is made in the méthode champenoise. The minerality of Michel’s vineyards expresses an alpine freshness and liveliness in his wines. His cuvées go beyond the simple “eclectic” that categorizes wines from the region; whether they are quaffed or savored, they are all unique revelations that reflect the complexity of their terroir and the fine artistry of this master vigneron.
Domaine Hauvette
Not far from Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, a tourist town known for Roman ruins and as the place where Van Gogh painted “The Starry Night,” you’ll find Domaine Hauvette. Nestled among the foothills of Les Alpilles, the vines are surrounded by a rocky and wild landscape—the clay and limestone soil retains moisture for the arid summer months, the Mistral blows half the year, and garrigue is seemingly everywhere. It is here that in the early 1980s Dominique Hauvette, seeking more sunshine, left her job as a lawyer in the Savoie, re-discovered her passion for raising horses, and began studying oenology. Thirty-some years later and Dominique now has 17 hectares of vines and an international reputation for making benchmark natural wines.When striving to make wine as naturally as possible, a focus on growing the healthiest and most perfect grapes is an absolute necessity. Dominique’s conversion to biodynamics starting in 2000 added rigor to her intuitive organic practices, and coupled with her magical terroir she has found an exciting recipe for success. In the cellar, she takes a decisively non-interventionist stance and is very low-tech, yet she is not afraid to experiment as is evidenced by her being one of the first winemakers to use concrete fermentation eggs. Like Didier Barral and Catherine and Pierre Breton, Dominique is a trailblazer in the natural wine movement, each year pushing the quality of her wines higher and higher with uncompromising standards. Her range of wines provides much to be excited about: the “Petra” rosé completes its malolactic fermentation in concrete eggs, the “Jaspe” Roussanne is probably the most delicious pure varietal Roussanne you’ll ever taste, the “Cornaline” Rouge is like a blend of Trévallon, Tempier, and Vieux Télégraphe, and the “Amethyste” Cinsault has finesse to rival many Burgundies. Bienvenue Dominique.
From the Blog
Richard Olney’s Final Book, Reflexions
by Jim Harrison, March 2000
Richard and Kermit © Gail Skoff
I was thoroughly swept away by Richard Olney’s Reflexions, which made me all the more saddened by his death this past July. There is ample evidence in Reflexions that no one on the planet has sat at better tables, most especially his own, or drank consistently better wines than Richard Olney. The evidence here and in his many other books, all of which I revere for their lucidity and range as books about food and wine that suggest, but not obtrusively, that there are standards that must be kept, no matter how implausibly high these standards might be. And this is all against a backdrop, a diorama, of a life lived with devotion and honor, of life lived as art itself.
If I have ever been to a home that may suitably be called magic it must be that of the Peyraud family in Bandol. The place has all the delicate mystery one senses in reading Alain Fournier’s Les Grandes Meaulnes (in English, The Wanderer) but also the very visceral, sensual quality of the best food one is likely to eat, prepared by Lulu Peyraud. Once there, there is not the slightest desire to ever leave, not for Paris let alone home.
I had been to Lulu Peyraud’s for lunch once before I met Richard in the spring of 1996. In the earlier trip I was with a Franco-American, Guy de la Valdène, who had taught me a great deal about both the French and their cooking. I was very excited at the time to learn that Richard lived in the area because I was so devoted to his work, much in the manner that I would have been in Mississippi had I known that Faulkner was down the road frying bacon for lunch to go with his bourbon. I’ve never been interested in differentiating between genres. The best is the best and we must take it on the rare occasions that we find it.
So in 1996 when I was on a French book tour, no more delightful than an American book tour except that, unlike in America, the food will carry you through, I drove to Lulu’s for lunch with my friend the French literary fixture and translator, Brice Mattieussent. I was a bit flustered, actually stunned, to find that Kermit Lynch and Gail Skoff were there with the fabled Richard Olney. In a curious, not improbable way, I had the same set of feelings I had had years before in London on spending time with John Huston. Were either of them still alive the comparison might strike them as far-fetched, but I can guarantee they would have been drawn to each other. In both cases I knew the work thoroughly before I met the man. And in both men there was an uncompromising, tenacious, and indefatigable pursuit of excellence, an implicit splendor that accompanies Kierkegaard’s “purity of heart is to will one thing,” whether it be the art of food and wine or the art of cinema.
In Reflexions and in person one senses that like many artists Richard was quite human, only more so. He was perhaps too indulgent with some of his friends but that is part of the territory, and I remember his laconic twinkle when I was carted away after a four-hour lunch and a great deal of wine to address a large audience in Marseille. He was sympathetic but knew the situation was comic. Luckily with a gallon of excellent Domaine Tempier Bandol in my system the audience became a flowery blur.
The next morning on the train from Marseille to Paris I remember reflecting that there was a specific grandeur to Richard Olney. This was a largehearted man, and his largeheartedness is everywhere in Reflexions, from his single-minded devotion to his work, to his lifelong love for his five brothers and sisters and his many friends. One can only imagine the loss felt by his close friends such as Kermit and Gail, Lulu Peyraud and Alice Waters, and his brothers and sisters and their children who were so close to him. Reflexions is an enchanting memoir of this life.
by Jim Harrison, March 2000
Richard and Kermit © Gail Skoff
I was thoroughly swept away by Richard Olney’s Reflexions, which made me all the more saddened by his death this past July. There is ample evidence in Reflexions that no one on the planet has sat at better tables, most especially his own, or drank consistently better wines than Richard Olney. The evidence here and in his many other books, all of which I revere for their lucidity and range as books about food and wine that suggest, but not obtrusively, that there are standards that must be kept, no matter how implausibly high these standards might be. And this is all against a backdrop, a diorama, of a life lived with devotion and honor, of life lived as art itself.
If I have ever been to a home that may suitably be called magic it must be that of the Peyraud family in Bandol. The place has all the delicate mystery one senses in reading Alain Fournier’s Les Grandes Meaulnes (in English, The Wanderer) but also the very visceral, sensual quality of the best food one is likely to eat, prepared by Lulu Peyraud. Once there, there is not the slightest desire to ever leave, not for Paris let alone home.
I had been to Lulu Peyraud’s for lunch once before I met Richard in the spring of 1996. In the earlier trip I was with a Franco-American, Guy de la Valdène, who had taught me a great deal about both the French and their cooking. I was very excited at the time to learn that Richard lived in the area because I was so devoted to his work, much in the manner that I would have been in Mississippi had I known that Faulkner was down the road frying bacon for lunch to go with his bourbon. I’ve never been interested in differentiating between genres. The best is the best and we must take it on the rare occasions that we find it.
So in 1996 when I was on a French book tour, no more delightful than an American book tour except that, unlike in America, the food will carry you through, I drove to Lulu’s for lunch with my friend the French literary fixture and translator, Brice Mattieussent. I was a bit flustered, actually stunned, to find that Kermit Lynch and Gail Skoff were there with the fabled Richard Olney. In a curious, not improbable way, I had the same set of feelings I had had years before in London on spending time with John Huston. Were either of them still alive the comparison might strike them as far-fetched, but I can guarantee they would have been drawn to each other. In both cases I knew the work thoroughly before I met the man. And in both men there was an uncompromising, tenacious, and indefatigable pursuit of excellence, an implicit splendor that accompanies Kierkegaard’s “purity of heart is to will one thing,” whether it be the art of food and wine or the art of cinema.
In Reflexions and in person one senses that like many artists Richard was quite human, only more so. He was perhaps too indulgent with some of his friends but that is part of the territory, and I remember his laconic twinkle when I was carted away after a four-hour lunch and a great deal of wine to address a large audience in Marseille. He was sympathetic but knew the situation was comic. Luckily with a gallon of excellent Domaine Tempier Bandol in my system the audience became a flowery blur.
The next morning on the train from Marseille to Paris I remember reflecting that there was a specific grandeur to Richard Olney. This was a largehearted man, and his largeheartedness is everywhere in Reflexions, from his single-minded devotion to his work, to his lifelong love for his five brothers and sisters and his many friends. One can only imagine the loss felt by his close friends such as Kermit and Gail, Lulu Peyraud and Alice Waters, and his brothers and sisters and their children who were so close to him. Reflexions is an enchanting memoir of this life.