Denouncing Sexual Violence

Yesterday, 6th April 2023, was the day that Isabelle Perraud went to court to defend herself against a diffamation charge brought by Sébastien Riffault.

The back story : a year ago, the Paye Ton Pinard association (of which Perraud is president) shared allegations online that the famous Sancerre vigneron had sexually assaulted and even raped young, female sommelières during his frequent trips to Denmark.

None of these victims have officially reported the allegations to the police, thus enabling Riffault to claim that the entire affair is a baseless witch hunt against him.

I don’t want to run the risk of receiving a diffamation letter myself – so I’m going to share three, very revealing, pages from yesterday’s Libération newspaper. (If you right-click on the image, open it in a new window, you can zoom in and read the text for yourselves.)

If your French could do with some brushing up, in italics is my translation of what is reported: the article in yesterday’s Libération, summarising the conclusions of their investigation, states that in the period between 2019 and 2022, 11 young women in Denmark claim to have been victims of sexual harassment or assault by Riffault; 2 of them claim to have been raped.

The numerous testimonies are moving, corroborative, and IMO convincing. There’s also a sequence of events detailed in the article which is a little too familiar with my own experience. (Remember that?)

This sequence starts with: let’s try to keep this private and pretend it didn’t happen so that I can move on. Sometimes that’s enough and with time and therapy, it is possible to sweep the emotions and memories under the rug. But, sometimes, the next step is realising that the situation is bigger than just you, that other women have found themselves in similar situations and that you’re dealing with a potential serial predator.

Next, word gets out but there’s a sense of “let’s try to figure this out ourselves” – by the employer in my case, and by the importer in Denmark in this instance. The Libé article says that at the end of 2021 (at this point, the accusations were all still word of mouth) Rosforth&Rosforth supposedly spoke to Riffault and gave him a warning. In January/February 2022, after the publication by one of the victims of an article in Frihedsbrevet, they ceased importing Riffault’s wines completely.

That’s an important step but it doesn’t take much to realise that the solution is not sustainable. Accepting the resignation of the employee or dropping the winemaker from the portfolio doesn’t remove the toxic element. Another employee will arrive or another importer will seize the opportunity and the behaviour will re-start.

The absence of criminal charges against Riffault allows him to deflect judgement on his own behaviour by pointing an accusatory finger at those who give voice and share the words of the young women. As an outsider to this case, I feel it’s important to state that I adhere to the principle of “innocent until proven guilty” but, when the body of evidence is this substantial, my gut says that the wrong person was being tried in court yesterday.


There are a couple more elements published in the Libé article which leave such a foul taste in my mouth, I feel they are worth translating for a wider audience:

1. Riffault’s Australian importer Ryan Larkin made his own investigation (finding other alleged victims in Sweden and Norway), published the findings in a newsletter (May 2021) took a position (to stop working with Riffault’s wines), only to backtrack six months later and seemingly wash his hands of the matter.

If we are asking women to come forward, to bear their soul to the police, to go through the agony of testifying in court, to put their trust in the justice system… then it’s not too much for us to ask men to grow a backbone and show some active allyship.

2. I needed to look up the definition of “corbeau” this morning because whilst I was familiar with its English translation as “crow” or “raven,” I wasn’t familiar with its alternative meaning: “poison-pen letter-writer.” Between October 2022 and January 2023, an anonymous person was sending emails to discourage potential witnesses from testifying in court, and sometimes even signing off those emails with the identities of other women who knew nothing about the case. The Libération article finishes with the bombshell that the police traced the fradulent email address back to none other than Riffault’s wife who is now under investigation herself.

Because the final line of the article is a threat from Sébastien Riffault to press diffamation charges against anyone who propagates these supposedly false accusations against his wife, I will bow out here and trust that the police investigation leaves no stone unturned in the quest for justice.


If you want to read a thread of live tweets from the hearing yesterday, Stéphane Méjanès has a blow-by-blow account of the proceedings:


The judge will announce their decision on the 8th June and then there will surely be an appeal. Whoever said justice was quick and straightforward…

In the meantime, I wish that all those involved in the case – particularly Isabelle and the two women who testified yesterday, but also all the other women involved, and even Sébastien and his wife – regardless of the outcome of this affair, if they have a clean conscience, I wish that they are able to find peace and sleep easy at night.

Castello di Lispida, Monselice (Colli Euganei)

For a long weekend last year, we went to go and stay at the Castello di Lispida, hidden away in the scenic Colli Euganei, hills of volcanic origin just south of Padova. I’d been to the Castello di Lispida before, in May 2018, for a tasting of volcanic wines called Vulcanei and so I was happy to find an occasion to return.

The estate dates back to the 11th century, when it was run by monks, but the buildings that you see today were built by the Corinaldi family who bought the estate in 1792. Currently, the estate comprises a total of 90 hectares, but only 8.5 are planted with vines and an average of 20,000 bottles are made annually.

The Lispida hill was renowned during the Venetian Republic for the presence of high-quality trachyte rock that was frequently used as a building material – particularly paving stones – in the flourishing city and further afield. (Geek out on that here…) The site’s other claim to fame is that the King Vittorio Emanuele III used the castle as his base during the end of WW1 in 1918-1919 so it is now classified as a “Villa Italia.”

As you may expect of a castle of this size and historic significance, the cellars are enormous. Approximately 2000 square metres, I’m told, but I’m not going to go measure it myself. Just take a look at the photos…

We went for a wine tasting in the cellar one evening before dinner. It started with a wine called “P. 2019” – a col fondo wine made from glera grapes (“P” stands for prosecco.) The alcoholic fermentation takes place in underground amphora (like those pictured) then the wine is blended and referments in the bottle. It’s fine, but if I’m honest, nothing particularly special.

One of the wines which did pique my interest was the Amphora bianco. It was first released in 2003, back at a time when very few wines were made entirely in terracotta amphorae. The fact that it is a blend of tocai friulano & ribolla grapes reveals its raison d’etre: Alessandro Sgaravatti (owner-winemaker at Castello di Lispida)’s close friendship with Josko Gravner in the late 90s/early 00s. There are other clues of Josko Gravner’s influence, if you know where to look…

At the Gravner winery, they use this one-person “cart” during harvest.

I also enjoyed both the story and taste of a wine called Amphora Rosso 2018 too. It’s a 100% Sangiovese, which, while there is Sangiovese is many regions all over Italy, caused me to raise an eyebrow because I don’t remember coming across Sangiovese in this part of the Veneto before. It turns out that rootstocks were given to Alessandro Sgaravatti by another friend – the Brunello legend, Gianfranco Soldera. The vines are now about 20 years old and they produce a super aromatic wine, not too tannic, bursting with wild strawberries and cherries.

We finish the tasting with a drop of the Montelispida 2015 Merlot which spent two years in oak butts; the story here goes that the family owning the castle were responsible for first introducing merlot into Veneto in 1870. I don’t know if it’s true… I supposed I’ll just have to go back to the Castello di Lispida to find out… what a tough life!

I’ll pack my swimming costume too!

CASTELLO DI LISPIDA “Amphora” 2018, 13% abv, vino bianco

I’m told that, for this vintage, the wine did 6 months of skin contact and then continued amphora ageing (i.e. without the skins) for a further 8 months. Despite those 6 months on the skins, this is a wine whose colour I would define as lightly golden rather than anywhere on the orange spectrum. As I write this tasting note, I’ve just poured the very last drop from the bottle and, as a result, the liquid in my glass is very slightly cloudly, but not at all bothersomely so. Nose is precise, delicate and floral. The mouthfeel is round, smooth, slightly nutty and the acidity has a beautiful flinty character. Overall impression is: balanced perfection. It’s a natural wine – low in sulfites – but one which is approachable at all levels.

€€ – a weekend wine

**** – something special

Tasted : 10th February 2023

To show the colour of this skin-contact wine… unfortunately it’s impossible to find a piece of paper which is completely white these days…

Cantine Matrone IGT Campania Bianco 2020

In the wake of this week’s disaster in Turkey and Syria, while dealing with feelings of helplessness in the face of Mother Nature, it feels somewhat apt to drink a wine which was make on the slopes of Vesuvius, the site of its own large-scale natural disaster two thousand years ago.

Wine from volcanic soils are increasingly trendy across the world – Santorini and Etna are the first two zones which leap to my mind, followed by areas such as Soave (and by extension Gambellara obviously!) Then there are the Colli Euganei (in the Veneto) and some parts of Lazio, where only true wine geeks know of the presence of that tell-tale black basalt rock. It is strange therefore that such a symbolic volcano as Vesuvius is not better known amongst consumers for its wines.

I hope this is about to change – hopefully with the success of books like Robert Camuto’s “South of Somewhere” – and also with the emergence of a younger generation of winemakers taking the reins of existing wineries or starting from scratch on this iconic terroir.

The bottle of wine that was calling me today was made by such a person: a young (about to turn 40) man by the name of Andrea Matrone who having worked harvest in Australia, New Zealand etc, recently took over the family winery and has taken it on a natural twist.


CANTINE MATRONE “Bianco 2020” IGT Campania Bianco

However well you know Italian wines, every so often when you step outside your comfort zone, you can be sure to come across a grape variety you’ve never heard of before. In this case, it’s caprettone. Officially registered in 2014, its homeland is on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius in Campania.

I love Ian D’Agata’s opening sentence when presenting this variety in his book Native Wine Grapes of Italy (2014): “Wine lovers with unconfessed masochistic tendencies will revel in the knowledge that fewer Italian grape varieties will provide a headache faster than Caprettone.” He continues “for many experts, Caprettone is exactly the same as Coda di Volpe Bianca… but don’t tell that to anyone farming the volcanic soils of the Vesuvius… unless you’re a sucker for an eruption of a different kind.”

Not wanting to provoke an uprising amongst the farmers or reveal a hidden personal penchant for masochism, I willingly accept Ian D’Agata’s analysis: “For what it’s worth, Caprettone looks very different from Coda di Volpe Bianca to me. … I think Caprettone is a very interesting variety and its wines potentially exciting. Chances are high that we shall hear a lot more about it in the future.”

The Bianco 2020 from Cantine Matrone is a blend of 80% caprettone, 15% falanghina pompeiana and 5% greco. It has a marvellous golden colour, testament of several days skin contact no doubt. The resulting wine is confident, gutsy and expressive, without being OTT. Its aromas are layered – there’s apricot, bourbon vanilla bean and warm spices – but as with many of the really original Italian white wines, it is the mouthfeel which characterises this charming wine: completely bone dry, rich and defined. I read on the back label “no added sulfites” – but the wine is so assertive you’d never know. The ample tannins give structure to the body, while the sapidity gives shape and elegance. It’s a wine which would call an inattentive drinker to attention and which rewards an attentive drinker with a satisfaction that is hard to come by.

In short, this is one of the most accomplished southern Italian wines that I’ve tasted recently; it reflects the warm climate and the volcanic soils, and possesses an umami character that pleases all the senses.

Price: € – a weekday wine

Rating: **** – something special

Tasted on Jan 9th, 2023

A Mission for the New Year

I’m not one for resolutions. Resolutions are susceptible of breaking at the first opportunity and then because they’ve been broken once, they subsequently lose all their power. I prefer to think about a mission, a channelling of motivation, but even then, sometimes January is not the right month for finding inspiration and motivation.

There is a pile of books on my bedside table, with a bookmark in each of them as a testimony to my good intentions but lack of perseverance. So, I’ve been using the downtime between Christmas and New Year to catch up on some of this reading. One of the books I’ve just dusted off again is Jamie Goode‘s “The Goode Guide to Wine – A Manifesto of Sorts”. It’s an easy read, which often puts onto paper thoughts that I have been harbouring myself, without ever having expressed in such black and white terms.

This is one of these such passages and it was after reading it this afternoon that my mission for this blog in 2023 finally crystallised.

“As wine drinkers, we are lucky to be living in times like these. We are not, of course, lucky that lots of very famous excellent wines have leapt in price over the last decade, taking them out of reach of the likes of me and many of my friends. But we are lucky because never before have so many interesting wines been made. Go to pretty much any wine region and hunt around, and you will find keen, talented winegrowers prospecting for special vineyard sites and then trying to make wines that express these privileged patches of ground.

This occurs in the new world, where pioneers have established great terroirs but also in the old world, where a new generation of growers is emerging, shedding the complacency of their forebears, respecting the life within their soils, and making superb wines. For these brave souls, wine is a vocation rather than a job.”

Jamie later cites Swartland and Stellenbosch in South Africa and Loire and Beaujolais in France. My mission for 2023 is to use this blog as a platform to shine a light on what’s happening in the less trendy, but just as deserving stretch of northern Italy where I’m setting down roots. From Piedmont to Friuli passing by Lombardy and the Veneto (but not exclusively limiting myself to these regions) there are new winemakers making terroir-driven, minimal intervention wines, at very reasonable prices.

Some of these winemakers I’ve already mentioned – e.g. Sieman (Veneto), Thomas Niedermayr (Alto Adige), Uros Klabjan (Istria, Slovenia) and Olek Bondonio (Piedmont) – but there are many more who are languishing in my Drafts folder and require dusting off and a quick lick of polish… much like those books next to my bed.

Exactly how Joe Dassin describes the Champs Elysees in 1969, in this small strip of the globe, il y a tout ce que vous voulez: big reds, bubbles, macerated whites, volcanic soils, maritime influences, mountain wines. I’m going to turn a blind eye to the commercial wines that are omnipresent and focus on the interesting wines that are affordable for anyone with a passing interest. I hope you’ll join me for the ride.


P.S. Given the recent spectacular decline of the bird-site, please sign up to receive new blog posts directly in your inbox. The link is in the toolbar on the left. You can also keep up-to-date on Mastodon where I go by @emmabentleyvino@epicure.social, or if you have more time on your hands, head over to Substack (emmabentleyvino) for musings on food and life in Italy.

Marco Turco “Vespasi” 2021

“Vespaiolo is clearly named for the hungry wasps (vespe) that target its sweet grapes.”

Ian D’Agata – Native Wine Grape of Italy, 2014.

Vespaiolo is about as local and obscure as a grape as I can get. It is found almost exclusively in the little-known town of Breganze just north of Vicenza, where it is most famous for being made into a sweet wine called Torcolato (after the method of production called “torcolare” / “twist.”)

A month or so ago, at the Ombra delle Mura wine fair, Marco gave me a couple of bottles to try at home. I may be a little biased because I have known Marco for a few years now and I’ve tried some of his tai rosso wines in the past but this wine “Vespasi L.0522” blew me away.

It has all of that juiciness which gives the variety vespaiolo its name – ripe apricots, acacia honey – but instead of following the tradition and going down a sweet wine path, this is completely dry and has a beautiful complexity and depth that comes from old vines and a little skin contact.

The acidity is not invasive; a counterpoint to the richness of the wine. Full of character while remaining a easy to drink. A masterpiece which held its shape even after the bottle had been open for 3 days.

Speaking of which, did you see my recent blog post on wines that improved with time?

Marco doesn’t seem to have a website yet but you can find him on social media here.

I messaged him for some more technical information about this wine:

If you find the 2020 vintage, Marco didn’t do any skin contact. This was the 2021 and it did two days on the skins.

The vineyard is located in Breganze, where the soil is 60cm deep before you hit red rock from an old lava flow, rich in oxidised iron.

The vines are 50-60 years old, the wine was vinified in cement and just 700 bottles were produced. Boom!

Six Wines Which Got Better The Next Day

Recently on Twitter I’ve been seeing – and trying to hold my tongue in – conversations about how natural wines tend to get a little, let’s say, “untidy” once they’ve been open for a while. It’s true that sometimes they don’t show so well if they were made in a haphazard “let’s hope for the best” approach, and even the best-intentioned winemaking can occasionally suffer the effects of oxygen bringing out unwanted character traits, like mouse/souris for example. But, over the last few weeks, I’ve had the pleasure of finding some natural wines which got noticeably better after a day or two and I decided to write about them.


VILLA JOB – Friuli – “Sudigiri” Sauvignon 2019

Alessandro and Lavinia inherited an estate in Friuli which was a galactic leap away both from their previous careers in Milan and from their parents in Sicily and Tuscany respectively. They now cultivate 9 hectares of vineyards and twice that of various agricultural crops. Their style – whether vinifying pinot grigio or refosco equally – is to create superbly aromatic wines which surprise the casual drinker for their frankness and freedom of expression.

On the second day, the citrus fruit aromas – particularly grapefruit peel, meyer lemon and gooseberry – of this sauvignon blanc had been amplified. There is spice too, white pepper, coriander seeds and a beautiful saltiness to the finish. If Marilyn Monroe were a wine…

LA FERME DE SEPT LUNES – northern Rhone – Syrah VDF 2019

This winery, run by Jean Delobre with Jacques Maurice, needs no introduction. I fell in love at first sip with their Saint Joseph (at Stefano Bellotti’s house… remember that?) so in 2020 when we went on holiday in the Ardèche, we just had to stop by the Ferme de Sept Lunes in the village of Bogy. This was one of the bottles that we purchased at the winery and tucked away for a year and a bit. At first it was so subdued compared to what I remembered of this wine; it was dense but silent almost to the point that you wondered if someone had pressed the mute button. I needn’t have worried; the next day at lunch, it had the same dark, opaque, broody, purple colour and there was now an explosion of leather, vanilla and plush fruit in the glass. Savoury and meaty – lip-smackingly good.

CASTAGNA – Beechworth, Victoria – Adam’s Rib 2008

Many moons ago, I worked for Julian Castagna’s importer in France; this – I believe – is the last bottle I had left from that time. (The penultimate was the Sparkling Genesis which I wrote about here.) They are wines which I love and I was convinced that squirrelling away a bottle for a few more years of ageing would pay off.

At first glance, though, maybe fourteen years was one too many; the cork was in good condition but the wine was looking weary. A distinctly brown rim and seeming rather past its best, I was concerned. However, on the second day, in a gravity-defying feat worthy of a circus magician, the situation had turned around completely. Adam’s Rib (so-called because it is part of the range vinified by Julian’s son, Adam) is a blend of nebbiolo and syrah and just as you might expect from those grapes, it was now showing a fantail of sour cherries, prunes and dried flowers…. even better, the vibrancy that I remembered in the Castagna wines was back!

GIOVANNI IANNUCCI – Campania – “Costa delle Viole” Barbera Beneventano IGP 2020

Italian grape varieties are notorious for being so numerous and in many cases, obscure. So just when you think you’re starting to have a pretty decent knowledge base, this Barbera from Campania shakes up that fledging confidence. It turns out that barbera from Piedmont is not the same as barbera from Campania, even though they share the same name. This is Barbera di Sannio, and yes, it’s different, very different. This, on the first day, was tasting rather like a northern Rhone syrah – a rustic wine, dense, rich with hints of leather, spice and coffee. On the second and third days, however, it had become an explosion of flowers – violets, in particular – and fruit (ripe plums, berries and forest fruits), finishing on a vanilla note. Very much reminiscent of an old-vine carignan. Mellow tannins – though they were never particularly tough even on day 1 – and a similar finish. It’s a red wine that would pair better with pasta and tomato sauce rather than a steak because it has more acidity than tannin structure. A well-made wine, full of character, and it held up impeccably despite three days sitting on my kitchen counter.

HEINRICH – Neusiedlersee – Edelgraben Ried Breitenbrunner 2015

I’d even go as far as saying that this wine was best on the third day. Like the twelve days of Christmas, the first day brought funk, the second day brought fruit but the third day brought the spice and the substance. Blaufrankish 100%. A beautiful, lush texture evolved from the ashes of the first day’s wine. Tannins are velvety soft so all the body comes from the pulp of the fruit. It’s a wine which listens rather than shouts but which succeeds in commanding attention anyway.

REMI SEDES – Loire – Rosé Samplemousse 2020 Coteaux d’Ancenis Rosé AOP

I bet you weren’t expecting to see a rosé on this list of wines which improve days after opening… but yes! A fond de bouteille got left in my fridge when we went away for the weekend and I honestly didn’t know what to expect upon our return on Monday. Rosé Samplemousse is a direct press gamay wine from Rémi Sédès in the Loire-Atlantique which (as you can see) I very much enjoyed upon opening but even after those extra days in the fridge, it was still super fresh, with crunchy cherries and raspberries, and a perfect balance of acidity and alcohol (neither of which are particularly shy.) A prime example of a really well-made natural wine that managed to surpass my expectations.

In The Vineyards With: Daniele Filippini (Siemàn), Veneto & “Saverlo” 2020 IGT Veneto

Tucked away in one of the most picturesque parts of the Colli Berici is a small, family-run winery and brewery called Siemàn. It situated on the south-eastern side of these strangely shaped hills, near the small town of Villaga, just south of the more well-known town Barbarano Vicentino.

Looking towards Villaga from the side of the winding road which eventually leads you to the centre.

Siemàn in the local dialect means “six hands” and the name alludes to the three brothers – Marco, Andrea and Daniele, all in their mid-late 30s – who work there. A year ago, their father retired from his job teaching business management at the local university and he now lends a helping hand in the vineyards… although sometimes he still needs a bit of supervision… 😉

(Daniele is unlikely to thank me for capturing the moment he had to run and tell his father on the tractor that he needed to mow alternate rows.)

They have 9 hectares of land – 4 of which are vineyards planted with garganega, tai bianco, bronner, incrocio manzioni (for the whites) and tai rosso, barbera, turchetta, corbinona and pinot noir (for the reds) – centred around the winery, on the unspoilt hillside near Villaga.

The grapes are all hand-harvested, fermented spontaneously and for the last three years, they haven’t added any SO2. The brothers make a range of approximately 8 different wines: some aged in stainless steel, others in oak and one, even, in terracotta amphorae. Nearly all the white wines spend at least a day on the skins, but not more than 10. The resulting wines are fresh, light and easy-drinking.

Daniele: “I did the traditional sommelier course but I then discovered wines made with no added sulfites and then wines with skin maceration and so, since 2010 I only drink natural wines. There was no going back.”

The winery itself is nothing fancy. The brothers have inherited and repurposed an existing farm building. Where Daniele has just ducked underneath to pick a few bottles of wine for me is where animals were once kept.

Siemàn is not just a winery; there is a large room, completely separate from the winemaking facility, which has been dedicated to a craft brewery. Andrea’s passion for beer led to the start of a project to make beer which combine a base farmhouse or sour ale with local fruit (sometimes with blackberries, apples, or elderflower and but more often than not, with grapes.) Depending on the harvest, some of the grapes that would otherwise be destined for wine get added to the base ale and mature together for somewhere between 15 days and 3 months. Just like the wines, the beers are fermented slowly in steel or in oak barrels, with indigenous yeasts, never pasteurised or filtered and referment in the bottle.

A snapshot of some of the Siemàn beers.
Unlike the hills of Soave, Gambellara and the Colli Euganei, the Colli Berici are not of volcanic origin. An old sea bed, the white rock is rich in limestone, marl and fossils. This rock has long been excavated in order to build the villas for which the area of Vicenza is famous.
Looking over the plain to the volcanic Colli Euganei.

Saverlo 2020 (Bianco Veneto IGT) – a blend of garganega and sauvignon blanc which spent one day on the skins, fermented in wood and saw out the winter in amphora. 3ml/l of SO2 declared on the label. At first a little reductive, but given time, it expands into a beautiful, mineral wine which expresses the fruit and the limestone soil. The nose is flinty; the mouth is soft but laden with ripe greengage and kept upright with a backbone of limestone saltiness.


My visit to the winery took place in May 2021. The blog post only got published in January 2022 when, finally, thanks to covid isolation, I had time to polish up a few unfinished sentences, uncrossed Ts and undotted Is.

If you want to read more about Siemàn, here are two links to their website and Facebook.

Giorgio Pinchiorri guilty of stalking ex-sommelier

There’s a famous restaurant in the centre of Florence called Enoteca Pinchiorri. It has three Michelin stars and the tasting menu starts at 175 euros, not including wine. It’s reputed internationally.

According to the Michelin Guide: “For decades Pinchiorri has represented luxury and haute cuisine at the highest level in Italy. The restaurant has a number of dining rooms, including a historic room, which has an almost museum-like feel. Highly attentive service from the legendary owners, Annie and Giorgio, and an excellent menu featuring the best of Tuscan, Italian and international cuisine. The wine list is renowned across the globe.”

Three days ago, a judge agreed a plea deal from the owner Giorgio Pinchiorri (age 78) for stalking an ex-sommelier and gave him a four month suspended sentence. The victim was a 30-something woman who started working at Enoteca Pinchiorri in 2015. She quit in 2016 to avoid his unwanted advances but the SMSs, telephone calls and letters continued nonetheless for several years. As reported in La Nazione “Pinchiorri also tried to win her over with gifts and surprises outside her house.”

The local newspaper Arno gives more detail: “The employee had told him to stop more than once, even going so far as to report him to the police, and the commissioner gave him a warning and told him not to go near the woman anymore. But he [Pinchiorri], apparently, had not given up on her, continuing to give her unwanted attention, with messages, phone calls and gifts.”

The situation reached its peak in September 2019, when she found him waiting for her outside her place of work. She called the police once again and the justice system was then, this time, cranked into action.


The first I heard about this story was while scrolling through Facebook earlier today, when I saw a post from wine writer Jacopo Cossater (who writes for Intravino and has a podcast called Vino sul Divano) asking why no-one was talking about the Pinchiorri story. The comments underneath were what prompted me to write this blogpost. I’ll give a selection of them here.

I think he has already had his punishment. After all he is a man of a certain age who has probably lost his mind. Of course she had the right to defend herself and she did. That’s enough.”

“But really, seriously, does anyone think that he actually posed any kind of danger? More than anything, it seems to me more a form of senile fallacy than sexual blackmail.

I remember that time when Marchesi, in his eighties, kissed me on the mouth. Had he had been my employer I would have been pissed off, at work I am asexual and even excessively so. Instead, I simply felt sorry for him.


“It has been in the public realm for years, Giorgio Pinchiorri and his family are “paying” for his “crime” both emotionally and criminally, I don’t understand what the restaurant has to do with it, in which families work and which is a flagship in the industry.”

“There’s something I don’t get: it is right to talk about it but it had to be done when the news first came out and in fact it did. Now there is a sentence in a plea deal. That is, there has been the course of justice, right or wrong, so the offended party – at least in theory – I believe has been compensated. So good to talk about it but it is also important to do it at the right times. In my opinion, the sentence can be a starting point but not a crucifixion.”

So if we talk about a case before it has been concluded by a judge, firstly, journalists risk being accused of slander and, secondly, the defendant should (rightly) be considered innocent before proven guilty. However, if we talk about a case once a sentence has been passed, we shouldn’t be talking about it because it’s in the past? #facepalm

It shocked me how quickly people are to make excuses for a man who has publicly conceded that he stalked an ex-employee. Every so often these cases come up, sometimes in Italy, in France or in the USA and we tend to brush it under the carpet because the man is famous, or is old, or “didn’t do it to me.”

A 78 year old is just as capable of harassing, assaulting or stalking a woman as an 18 year old man and, in this case, it’s even worse because he was blinded by his position of superiority and did not accept her requests for him to back off.

It’s time to break the omerta, to stop making excuses and instead to start putting ourselves in the position of the victim. It is a truly terrifying feeling to find someone unwanted waiting for you outside your house or your place of work. How much entitlement does this man have to feel that a lady half his age ought to yield to his advances?! We need to turn this society of toxic masculinity and misogyny into a society in which a man accepts being told no by a woman. All these stories have a common theme and the baseline is some (not all, of course) men’s sense of entitlement. So, either men need to develop the self-awareness to recognise this in their behaviour or to have it pointed out by friends, family, colleagues or members of the wider community. And we need to talk about it.


The translations above are my own. For anyone who thinks I may have been exaggerating, the original Italian texts can be found below:

“Uno degli ultimi episodi contestati dall’accusa risalirebbe al settembre del 2019, quando, uscendo da un ristorante del centro dove lavora in quel periodo, la donna si sarebbe ritrovata Pinchiorri nuovamente di fronte. A quel punto avrebbe chiamato i carabinieri. Stando al racconto fatto dalla ex dipendente, assistita dall’avvocato Federico Scavetta, Pinchiorri aveva cercato di conquistarla anche con regali e sorprese fatte trovare sotto casa.” La Nazione.

“La dipendente più di una volta si era ribellata, arrivando perfino a denunciarlo, al punto che il questore lo aveva ammonito intimandogli di non avvicinarsi più alla donna. Ma lui, a quanto pare, non aveva desistito, continuando a riservarle attenzioni non gradite, con messaggi, telefonate e regali.” Arno.

Yannick Meckert – new winemaker in Rosheim, Alsace

I first met Yannick about seven years ago. It was at a dinner organised by mutual friends and I’ll always remember the moment this fiery man walked in, still fuming at an argument between him and his father. It was an inter-generational dispute about the management of the vineyards but it was the day that Yannick decided to break away from the family winery and carve his own path.

In the intervening years, Yannick has worked as a sommelier in Copenhagen and London, done harvest in Lazio and Burgundy, made sake nihonshu in Japan, and I’m sure I’m forgetting something… We’ve caught up hurriedly when he passed through the Veneto in 2016, in 2018 when he was working at Terroirs and again in London at the Real Wine Fair 2019 when it turned out we were staying at the same hotel… It was a similar stroke of good luck which meant that he also happened to be in Alsace when we were passing through last week.

Installed in the area around Rosheim, towards the northern tip of the Alsatian vineyards, Yannick farms 2 hectares of vineyards and buys between 20-30% of grapes négoce. He says that even if, one day, he increases the quantity of owned vineyards, the quantity of négoce grapes will always stay proportionate. Buying négoce affords him some wiggle room in years as difficult as 2021 when so many zones have been affected by mildew. He knows that even if his vines don’t yield the crop he wants, he’ll be able to find some interesting grapes to work with anyway.


Yannick is renting a bare-boned space, which he’s turned into a cellar with a handful of oak barrels, a few amphora (mainly knock-offs from Claus Preisinger in Austria) and the press, which was a gift from Bruno Schueller.

We tasted as many wines as we could before the kids called us away to take them to a nearby playground – fair enough, it shouldn’t only be adults who have all the fun! – but my favourites were a super pinot noir and a riesling which he described as being made with an oxidative style (i.e. not entirely filled cuve) but which just gave a very subtle edge. Most of the wines we tasted are yet to be blended before bottling so I can’t say much about the finished wines.

One thing that struck me was his style of working with pinot noir and gewürztraminer grapes – where he macerates them grappes entières . The temperature might rise to 32-35°C but that’s not a problem because Yannick says this “cooks” the stems and doesn’t extract any greenness. He crushes the grapes barefoot because he doesn’t want to break or be too harsh with the stems.

He actually harvested and vinified the 2019 vintage but the resulting wine wasn’t up to the standards he wanted, neither in terms of the grapes or during the vinification, so he decided to get rid of all the wine. When I pressed him on what he did differently in 2020, he replied, “I was much more aware about the grand cru vineyards that I farm and the importance of picking the right date for harvest and also I learnt that I need to be more precise in the winemaking.” Effectivement, when I saw Yannick’s notes for keeping track of the pigeage and of the progression of sugar levels in his pinot noir, everything is noted in miniscule detail. “That I learnt from Philipe Pacalet,” he acknowledges proudly.

Around 7000 bottles of the 2020 vintage are ready to be bottled at the end of the month or beginning of September. Most are sold already to various importers around the world, but Yannick wants to prioritize the local market to further limit the carbon footprint of his wines. That said, the production is so small that Yannick will not be accepting visits from members of the public so you’ll have to seek out his wines in some restaurants or wine bars in Strasbourg.

From what we tasted, they are super interesting wines and Yannick has a keen idea of what he wants to make happen. I look forward to seeing if he’s able to turn his dream into the wine he wants in 2021 harvest too.

To keep up-to-date, follow him on Instagram here.

Open Space

I was scrolling through Twitter this morning when I came across a conversation between Meg Herring, Peter Pharos and Randall Grahm.

It started from a relatively innocent tweet:

The discussion continued, tamely enough, between various people talking about grape varieties that can yield overly-fragrant, perfumed wines… until we reach this point:

MIND BLOWN.


I spent a good hour this afternoon doing some repetitive maintenance work in the vineyards so I had time to mull this concept over further.

When I talk about wine, I tend to follow the standard formula of talking about what there *is* – i.e. the aromas, flavours, finish. If I mention what there *isn’t*, it is normally a thinly-veilled criticism – i.e. “X was lacking in acidity.” The notion that some wines have “open space” turns everything on its head.

The reason this concept had such an effet on me is because it was exactly my experience of drinking Laura Aschero’s Rossese 2018 almost a year ago. “Fruity, fragrant… so light bodied it’s over half way to becoming a rosé… it works perfectly on this warm, sunny day.” (You can read the full post here.)

When assessing a wine, I am often guilty of falling into the trap of focussing on the vinification. I ask myself: is this Merlot an important wine which was fully ripe and did 3 weeks on the skins before a year or two in barrel… or is this a grappes entières carbo bomb?

If I’m hungry, my stomach overrides my brain and I tend to think about the potential food pairings: i.e. would I pair this Merlot with a cote de boeuf or with a mixed charcuterie plate? Is this wine the main course or is it just the aperitif?

What I don’t do enough – and it’s where Randall has opened my eyes – is to think more philosophically about wine. A simple, light-bodied wine could be just that, and often they are… but occasionally I come across wines which are light but exquisitely crafted. (There are a couple of Tai Rosso wines from the Colli Berici that spring to mind, for example.) It is during these moments that I will endeavour to look more holistically, in the way that Randall described, for the “palatal open space.”

“It’s not always absence but rather potentiality.”

The Effect of Confinement

There’s a beautiful walk to be done from our house. You cut through the old vineyard, leaving the vegetable patch and the beehives to your left and the chicken coop and the row of hops to your right. In the springtime, this vineyard is in constant motion as butterflies and other insects flutter from one flower to another.

Once you read the end of the vineyard, you find yourself on an old shepherds’ path. It skirts another of our vineyards before heading up the hill into the woodland. Admire the makeshift wall of volcanic rocks as you go. No-one but us walks up this path anymore so brambles may be an issue occasionally. Just 20 years ago, as many as one hundred sheep and goats that were led to pasture up on these hills would have cut them back for us. The owner of the vineyards, however, my father-in-law, is pleased that there are no sheep or goats anymore; they didn’t always stick to munching on brambles.

Stop for a second to smell the flowers on the quince trees which have only just opened up. They were still tight buds just a couple of days ago but now they are in full bloom and the fragrance is glorious.

Before the baby arrived and my daily routine changed beyond recognition, I did this walk everyday. It takes about 10 minutes, depending on how actively you take on the slopes. It’s a good work out because in some places, there’s a 40% gradient.

Vineyards in late March

Arriving at the top, the effort is justified. Any beads of sweat (quite common in the summer) get brushed away and forgotten once you set your eyes on the two magnificent castles in front of you.

What is lacking in photo quality can be compensated by your imagination…

They are the original Romeo and Juliet castles, dating back to the 13th and 14th centuries, which inspired an injured soldier turned novel writer named Luigi Da Porto to write a story, which was later plagiarised by the copycat William Shakespeare.

I like the idea that Luigi da Porto was able to construe something which became as significant as the story of Romeo and Juliet from the confines of his chair. Who knows what could be created during this period of enforced isolation?

On days with good visbility, beyond the castles, you’ll spot the snowcapped peak of Monte Grappa. Standing at 1775m high, this mountain is the main focal point on the skyline for miles around and it looms menancingly above the castle ruins, itself a reminder of war and struggle.

During the First World War, Monte Grappa was the main point of conflict between the invading Austro-Hungarians and the Italians protecting the Venetian plain. Being such a strategic place, many lives were lost.

I don’t know if that was still playing on my mind when I chose which wine to open last night because it was “Muscat Freyheit” 2017 from the Austrian winery Heinrich.

Composed of muscat (70%) with a small part (25%) of pinot blanc and even smaller amount (5%) of chardonnay, the back label also reveals some secrets of the vinification: 14 days skin contact, aged in oak barrels and bottled with no SO2. I was wary of the cement bottle from this biodynamic winery because previous experience has taught me to watch for hot-ass reduction. In this case, I needn’t have worried; it’s perfect.

It has a wonderful suggestive and exotic nose, which conjures up images of faraway places, warm evenings and heady spices. There’s preserved lemon, camomile tea, cardamom and lime cordial. Mouth is very slightly off-dry (there’s a hint of the syrup that comes with a tin of peaches) but finishes with a whisk of salinity which works perfectly with the spread of food that’s on the table this particular evening. We drink glass after glass of this wine, enjoying its abundance of texture and character. To some people wine is superfluous and extravagant but to us, at this particularly strange time, we’re appreciating the good things in life and savouring every sip.


To read more about the Heinrich winery, Valerie Kathawala recently wrote a very comprehensive overview on Grape Collective.

Andreas Nittnaus “Tochter” 2018 at only 10% abv

A year ago, besides the vintage, I didn’t bat an eyelid at any number on a wine label. Seeing a shiny medal with the words “98 Points from Uncle Bob” on a bottle rarely happens in the company I keep but if it had any effect, it would only be to spur my eyes towards the next wine on the shelf. (Yes, I’m one of those people who actively snub guides and medals. “A millenial,” you might say.) I also paid absolutely no attention to the number preceding the percentage sign on the label. I’m ashamed to admit that I would sometimes silently judge customers who came into the shop, pick up a bottle from the shelf only to put it down again in a hurry and turn away, all whilst exhaling, “oh no, no, I can’t, it’s 13%.”

For that reason, it was a surprise to catch myself picking out the following wine from all the others that were staring back at me *because of* it’s low-alcohol level.

Admittedly, it’s one the more minor consequences of having a baby but nine months off the sauce have hit both my tolérance and my taste buds. I went out with a couple of girlfriends last week and realised what a cheap date I’ve become: two drinks and it was time for carriages!

So, as I was fumbling around in the cellar the other day, I came across this bottle and the “10%” written on the label drew me to it. I don’t know much about the winery – but Google tells me that Nittnaus is a family-run winery with 11 hectares of vineyards in the Neusiedlersee region, near Gols in Austria. That’s a good sign because this is one of Austria’s most exciting regions for natural wine, with a new crop of emerging passionate and dynamic winemakers. (Judith Beck, Claus Preisinger, Paul Achs and Heinrich, to name a few.)

With all to play for and no time to lose, I reached for the corkscrew and plunged my nose in the glass. Beautiful deep violet colour, aromatic nose of cassis, cherry and orchard fruits. A hint of reduction at the very beginning but it disappeared after a minute in the glass. The aromas are of only medium intensity but they are present. There’s a whiff of parma violet sweets too. Moving on, the mouth is harmonious, youthful and tending towards the spices of cinnamon and cloves. Light bodied but surprisingly elegant for its low alcohol. There’s relatively low acidity and no sign of garishly under-ripe grapes that I was afraid of. Tannins are easy and fine-grained. The main body slips away but a pleasant after-taste lingers on.

Sankt Laurent is a sibling of Pinot Noir but don’t be fooled: this wine bears no resemblance to a Burgundy and only a passing one to a new world Pinot Noir. There’s none of the French austerity and even after the bottle has been open for two days, it remains intact and lively. It’s a refreshing, simple but satisfying wine and if they’re all like this, I’ll be more likely to pick one out again in the future.

Price: €

Rating: ***

Judith Beck “Bambule” Pinot Noir 2017

I discovered Judith Beck’s wines at the Live Wine fair in Milano over a year ago. On such an occasion, especially when you are power-tasting as many producers as possible, your palate goes into overdrive but every so often you come across a wine which stands out and screams to be taken seriously. This is one such wine.

Impossible to refuse its call, I bought a bottle to bring home and taste at a moment when I’d be sitting at my kitchen table with enough time to really spend listening to the wine.

Whilst being light, pinot noir is rarely carefree, easy drinking. A consequence of my time living in France is that those two words P & N together tend to trigger a mental checklist of what can only be honestly described as an instant mood-killer: appellations, climats, vintages, etc.

I think this is part of the reason why I found this wine so refreshing – both for the brain and for the taste buds. It is neither earthy like many Burgundies, nor austere like Alsace can be, but instead has its own childlike personality.

It is juicy and vibrant with ton of fresh strawberry fruit and some darker undertones of blackberries, cassis and bramble. It is light to medium bodied, with soft, ephemeral tannins that make their presence known only in the after-taste.

I’ve been getting more and more into Austrian natural wines recently; they tend to have a playfulness that I very much enjoy, especially when accentuated by the absence of SO2. I’m definitely going to be looking out for Judith and her wines in the future.

Price: €€
Rating: ***

What’s On Around Vinitaly?

Spring is right around the corner. The days are getting longer and warmer, the first vegetables in my orto have been sown and my taste buds are turning towards pétillant naturels rather than heavy reds.

I’ve had time to unpack my suitcase and settle back after the Loire fairs earlier this month and so my mind goes to the next big appointment in the wine trade diary: Vinitaly!

I make a point of going every year. You may have spotted that I was interviewed for an episode of Monty Waldin’s “Italian Wine Podcast” recently. It was recorded during a stolen 45 minutes in a fishbowl somewhere in the depths of Veronafiera last April.

Chatting with Monty Waldin, 2018

Every year, you may be thinking…. *yawn*… whilst it sounds clichéed, every year, there’s something new. Here’s the run-down of what to expect if you’re coming to Vinitaly in 2019.

The old-timers know that the proceedings kick off on Friday 5th April with Vini Veri in Cerea (VR.) The list of participants is not yet available but you can be sure to find a smattering of the usual natural wine figures – of which my personal favourites usually present are Colombaia, Feudo d’Ugni and Vodopivec.

The next day (Saturday 6th) heralds the start of VinNatur, which *newsflash* has moved its annual fair from the famous Villa Favorita to the nearby Margraf Showroom, a exhibition and logistics hub for a large, local marble company. We’ll find out if marble and wine are a good combination – but one thing is for sure: easy parking and 17,000 square metres of space to house the 182 producers from 6 different countries.

Summa, up in the Alto Adige, is the most exclusive of the fairs – being reserved to some 2000 participants and 100 winemakers. Organised by Alois Lageder, current president of Demeter Italy, most of the exhibitors farm biodynamically and if you receive an invitation, I’ve heard it’s worth the detour.

That covers the “off” fairs and brings us onto probably the main reason why you come to the Verona area at this time of the year anyway: Vinitaly. I’m pleased to report that in recent years there’s been a substantial increase in how much space, time and attention is given to organic, sustainable and independently-owned wineries. Given that 30% of all the vineyards in Italy are organically farmed, this increase shouldn’t come as much of a surprise but it should be very much welcomed.

In 2019, you’ll find that the entireity of Pavillon 8 has been given over to FIVI (independent wineries) and Vinitalybio (organic producers), whilst VIVIT – which for me was always the big draw – has moved to a new venue, the newly created Organic Hall in “Area F.”

If you happen to be staying in central Verona and you haven’t reached your wine-saturation-point, then there’s one easy solution: Vinitaly and the City. Personally, however, and especially if the weather is good, I would suggest heading out to Bardolino for their evening entertainment at the Villa Carrara Bottagisio, right on Lake Garda from the 5th-7th April. More details in the links below.


VINI VERI: 5 – 7 April 2019 at AreaExp, Cerea VR (website)

VINNATUR: 6 – 8 April 2019 at Margraf, Torre di Confine VI (website)

SUMMA: 6 – 7 April 2019 at Magrè, Alto Adige (website)

VINITALY: 7 – 10 April 2019, Veronafiera (website)

VINITALY AND THE CITY: 5 – 8 April, in central Verona (website) and Bardolino website

In The Vineyards With: Thomas Niedermayr

Shortly before Christmas, I drove for an hour or so north, from Verona up to the Alto Adige. If you’re familiar with Verona, you almost certainly have seen the river which encircles the historic city, the river Adige. Alto Adige is the mountainous region, where that river originates. This area is also widely known by its German name, South Tyrol, because approximately 60% of the local population are native German speakers, whilst only 20% grew up speaking Italian.

It’s a dramatic and interesting route to drive because once you’ve left the fog of the Verona plains behind, the mountains creep closer and the road you are travelling along becomes dwarfed by the rocky landmasses on either side.

Leaving Verona / Lake Garda behind and heading towards the Austrian border

Head into the foothills above the city of Bozen / Bolzano and you find yourself lost in wine country. The roads are windy and impossibly narrow for oncoming traffic, and the villages have remain untouched since yesteryear.

It’s here, at approximately 500 metres above sea level, that you find Thomas Niedermayr. Thomas manages 5 hectares of vineyards (part owned, part rented) at this family-run winery. His father has been cultivating grapes and making wine, organically and with a strong emphasis on biodiversity, since the late 80s but it was more a side-project than a viable business.

Having decided to pursue winemaking as a career, Thomas, who originally studied carpentry, enrolled at the reputed Laimburg research centre to learn oenology. 2012 was the culmination of those studies and it was to prove a defining year; several months of work experience at a biodynamic farm in Austria and then a placement to learn English in London gave Thomas the drive and direction that is so valuable at the start.

It’s still very much a family effort; when we arrive, Thomas’ dad, Rodolf, is cutting back a hedge and his sister is pruning in the vineyards. Meanwhile, a menagerie of animals cluck, peck, sniff and hop around us.

Ducks, geese, chicken… all foul run loose at Hof Gandberg

It’s cold out so after a brisk walk through the vineyards, Thomas shows us his brand new cellar, which he’s made himself, almost entirely from wood – a doth of the hat to his previous passion for carpentry. In that cellar you find a range of white and red wines; some aged in stainless steel, others in wooden barrels of varying sizes…. but not from the grape varieties that you might expect! The most notable aspect that differentiates Thomas from others is his dedication to PIWI grape varieties.

PIWI varieties are hybrids, made from crossing commonly found European grape varieties with a resistant American counterpart and creating a result which is resistant to downy and powdery mildew. The advantage of PIWI varieties is that they remove the need to treat with copper and sulphur and therefore pollute the environment far less than conventional and even organic agriculture. You can find more information about PIWI varieties on this website.

Varieties that Thomas works with include Solaris, Bronner and Souvignier Gris. Each has its own completely different aromatic profile and my resolution for 2019 is to become more familiar with their typicities.

As we leave the cellar, there’s a small table off to one side which is practically hidden by the quantity of bottles, demi-johns and contraptions which lie atop. It turns out that these are Thomas’ many, many micro-vinifications. His first harvest (picked, vinified and bottled) was in 2013 but he admit that he’s still learning and still experimenting.

“If we don’t experiment, how would we know what works and what doesn’t?” Touché.

Thomas’ experimentation.


Thomas Niedermayr website

Visit: 21st December 2018