Cloud in the bottle.
Unfiltered · undisgorged · unbothered
Méthode ancestrale · one fermentation · nothing added
The label is meant to get wet
Shake gently, or don't.
Unfiltered · undisgorged · unbothered
One fermentation, finished in glass. What the vineyard made that year is what's in your flute — haze, weather, and all.
We harvest two weeks before the neighbours and they still shake their heads. Low sugar, electric acid — the grapes taste like green apples and nerve. Exactly right.
Halfway through fermentation the wine goes into bottle and the door shuts. Whatever sugar is left becomes the sparkle. No added yeast, no added sugar, no second chances.
The bottles sleep in the cold end of the cave while the cloud settles into itself. We taste one a month and lie to each other about being patient.
The cloud is not a flaw.
The cloud is the wine's memory —
yeast, orchard, year. Drink the weather.
Cold. Young. Outside.
Last inch of the bottle: swirl it in. That's the good part.
Old chenin and older pinot on a chalk slope that catches first light and loses the afternoon heat. Farmed by hand and by bicycle, mostly in fog, entirely without recipes.