There’s something exciting happening at Château Cheval Blanc’s outpost in the Andes. Ahead of the release of 2021 Cheval des Andes as part of our La Place de Bordeaux offer, Charlie Geoghegan finds out more.

“Cheval des Andes is not a traditional Argentinian wine, and it’s not what it was 15 years ago.”

So says Arnaud de Laforcade, financial and commercial director at Château Cheval Blanc – and this, its sibling estate on the other side of the world. He is at No.3 St James’s Street to show us the new 2021 vintage, about to be released through La Place de Bordeaux.

Founded as a joint venture between Cheval Blanc and the Mendoza-based Terrazas de los Andes in 1998, Cheval des Andes has undergone a transformation over the last decade or so.

The estate has 47 hectares of vines, split between two of Mendoza’s most prized areas: Las Compuertas, part of Luján de Cuyo; and a smaller share in Paraje Altamira in the Uco Valley. But until 2014, the wine itself was produced from a broader selection of vines, including some of Terrazas’s best parcels.

Then something changed.

From brand to land

The early 2010s saw greater involvement here from “the new generation at Cheval Blanc”, including Arnaud and his colleague Pierre-Olivier Clouet, technical director-turned-CEO. Things got a little philosophical, and they began to wonder what a joint venture should, or could, be.

Cheval des Andes was a blended wine, assembled with care and precision like a fine Champagne. But this was not the Cheval Blanc team’s forte. “Why would we have any legitimacy in blending in Argentina?” they asked themselves. “We don’t know anything about blends.”

Back in St Emilion, Cheval Blanc is, of course, a blend – of grape varieties and parcels. But the approach to blending there is deceptively simple – and just a little bit radical. Rather than starting with a blank slate and building up, “it’s just taking away the weak plots,” Arnaud says.

It reminds me of marking in the French education system; as friends have described it, the student starts with a possible 20 marks out of 20, and it’s the teacher’s job to remove points from the maximum rather than the inverse.

Pierre-Olivier Clouet once told me that he would use 100% of the grapes at Cheval Blanc for the grand vin there if he could, if the quality allowed. A good vintage in his mind is one where everything is so high in quality that there is simply no second wine. He gets his way sometimes, as he did in 2015 and 2022.

They can afford to do this at Cheval Blanc because the wine comes from a specific place that they know intimately, and over which they have total control. Things operated a little differently at Cheval des Andes, calling for a change – “going from a brand to a growth,” Arnaud says.

A change of pace

And so, with the 2015 vintage, those 47 hectares became the sole grape source for Cheval des Andes. In tandem came a wholesale reconsidering of the vineyard: replanting where necessary and questioning established practices on pruning and picking.

These developments came at a welcome change of pace from Arnaud’s home patch. “In St Emilion, everything moves slowly,” he laments. “In Argentina, there’s a sense of freedom. If you want to change your harvest date, you can.” So they did.

In the past, harvest at Cheval des Andes took place in early May. Now, it’s in early March or even the end of February; it was 4th-19th March in 2021.

You may be able to move fast in Argentina, but that doesn’t mean you do so recklessly. The decision to pick early needs to be made well before harvest, at the beginning of the season. “To have balanced grapes,” Arnaud says, “you need to tell the vines you’ll be picking early.”

Some people will tell you that there’s little to no vintage variation in Argentina. The vagaries of one year, the logic goes, are not all that different from the next – and the impact on the wine is minimal, in any event. Arnaud is not so sure. It may ring true, he says, for those wines where oak and extraction play the key role. Strip out the heavy winemaking hand, though, and you might be surprised: “Start picking earlier, stop all the new oak, increase the size of the ageing vessels and you leave room for nuance, for a more delicate expression of the vintage effect.”

There is one area in which Cheval des Andes sees very little variation: the size of the crop. Cheval Blanc is a not incomparable 39 hectares of vines, though the yield there can vary widely, Arnaud says: “100,000 bottles one year, 40,000 the next.” At Cheval des Andes, they see a far steadier 90-120,000 bottles each year. Arnaud puts this down to the water supply.

The climate in Mendoza is too dry to viably grow grapes without irrigation, he says. Though not permitted in Bordeaux, irrigation is a fact of viticultural life here. Improvements in irrigation at the estate, including the installation of a reservoir and the sparing, targeted approach of drip irrigation (as opposed to the more one-size-fits-all flood irrigation) have helped enormously. Irrigating only when and specifically where it is necessary to do so has given them steadier yields – and a huge improvement in the ripeness level of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

The Bordeaux influence

There is a clear Bordelais influence here – in the approach and in the final wine. Cheval des Andes was conceived in part by Pierre Lurton, among the most significant figures of his generation in Bordeaux. Today it’s overseen by the uber-talented Pierre-Olivier Clouet and Gérald Gabillet, in partnership with the local team.

If you tasted it blind and thought it was a Bordeaux, you could be forgiven. The tannins are refined, there’s a Cabernet-derived leafy note, there’s plenty of spice – and there’s balance. This is a harmonious wine from the off; tasting Cheval des Andes, even the just-released 2021 vintage, is never hard work.

But there’s more to it. This is not just another Bordeaux blend from Argentina, nor is it purely a Cheval Blanc lookalike. The not-so-secret ingredient here is Malbec. Argentinian Malbec is ubiquitous now on supermarket shelves, but the grape itself is native to the South West of France (Cahors rather than nearby Bordeaux, but close enough). It was a significant presence in Bordeaux until Phylloxera and, later, frosts, all but wiped it out. It remains on the books today as a permitted grape for red Bordeaux, though plantings are minuscule. There is, notably, half a hectare of Malbec now planted at Cheval Blanc; watch this space.

The Malbec at Cheval des Andes hits a bit different, though. Malbec makes up just under half the blend in 2021, alongside 49% Cabernet Sauvignon and 3% Petit Verdot. There’s more to Malbec than the over-ripe fruit bomb for which it is sometimes disparaged, Arnaud believes. He likens it, to my surprise, to Pinot Noir: “Earthy, gently floral, relatively low tannins, and a good balance between alcohol and acidity.”

Put it all together, and there’s something very exciting happening at Cheval des Andes. The 2021 is not overly showy at this early stage, more delicate and reserved. But there is a great deal of complexity when you go looking for it. There is beautifully pure fruit, with nicely defined blackberry coulis and blueberry notes, along with dusty dark chocolate and cocoa-powder character. It’s all a bit tightly coiled for now, but there’s spicy black fruit and tobacco ready to reveal itself. An underlying spicy edge is peeking out, though that fruit stands out above all. Fine tannins and lively acidity indicate a bright future.

The 2021 vintage of Cheval des Andes is available on bbr.com.

Rob Whitehead has the unique pleasure of sourcing the world’s best spirits for us, and there’s one style he believes is woefully overlooked: rum. From the rich and fruity to the refined and elegant, the world of rum is every bit as fascinating and varied as whisky. Here, he tells us why he loves rum so much, and why you should too.  

Being the Spirits Buyer at Berry Bros. & Rudd is my immense pleasure and privilege. It means I get to work with some of the greatest, most respected and best-loved distilleries in the world. I don’t take that lightly.  

Rum is the least explored of the truly great spirits categories. Part of my role is about finding new, smaller and lesser-known producers, alongside the superstars – giving them the love they deserve alongside our other wonderful categories. The world of rum is full of all sorts of producers, right across the spectrum. There are distilleries that have been operating for centuries; others for mere months. There are distilleries operating on truly epic scales of production, fermenting millions of litres; and there are distilleries operating out of sheds and converted stable blocks, garages and farmhouses.  

The rum distillery is where the craft and work of the distiller is paramount. There are so many incredible visionaries creating beautiful products tied to the land, keeping as much of that terroir, that soul of the place – trying to translate that from the local sugarcane as closely as possible into the finished drink. But there are also passionate makers producing fine rum thousands of miles away from where it’s even possible to grow sugarcane. 

Neither is better or worse, neither is fundamentally the only and correct way to do things. Both have the propensity to make truly world class spirits. The rules surrounding rum production are generally fairly loose, and that allows for a wonderful combination of strict traditional expressions and maverick experimentation right across the globe. There is nothing to stop anyone, anywhere, buying some molasses and making rum – and that’s what makes it all so thrilling.  

Over my time working in this ever-blossoming industry, I’ve found rum to be full of fascinating and welcoming producers. Everywhere I go, from Guyana to Stevenage, I’ve found committed, passionate people – wanting to share their home, their heritage, their ideas, their stories.  

Rum can be as great and as versatile as any other drink in the world. Styles range from the unaged and spiced to truly fine, top-quality stuff on a par with the world’s most exquisite spirits. After nearly two decades of my time here, the world of fine rum has very gently and slowly started opening up. More people every year are doing exceptional work. There’s just so much to explore. I hope you’ll join me on this journey.  

Three favourites  

Foursquare, 15-Year-Old, Berry Bros. & Rudd Private Cask Selection, Barbados  

Richard Seale and his team are arguably some of the best rum distillers in the world. Richard has this incredibly mysterious, mercurial genius when it comes to selecting the casks to put together to create a beautiful bottle – and this 15-Year-Old is just impeccable. It’s rum at its most elegant, its most beautifully coiffured and manicured. It’s pristinely made with intelligent production, but with real love for the place and the molasses; real care and attention to what a Barbados rum should be. This is truly the work of a brilliant maker.  

El Dorado, Berry Bros. & Rudd Exclusive Cask, 9-Year-Old Rum, Guyana  

Diamond Distillery is the only commercial distillery in Guyana. Here, rums are made in a range of styles: some light, others incredibly dense and rich – with everything in between. What’s interesting here is that they are, unlike some rum distilleries, creating rums on different stills, with different characters. Sean, Sharon and the team here are making incredible spirits with this range of styles. They then put them together and age them in cask, as opposed to ageing each independently. This 9-Year-Old is deep, dark and full of pruney, figgy, chocolatey notes. We have macerated cherries. We have sack loads of spice. We have gooey, treacley toffee – stuff just landing and sticking to the palate. It’s maddeningly complex. Extraordinary distillation, beautiful blending.   

Berry Bros. & Rudd Jamaica Rum  

Jamaica has a reputation among rum lovers for producing the most characterful and funky styles of rum – much like Islay has among whisky-lovers. This is from Clarendon Estate, who make high-ester, smoky, fascinating expressions. It has a classic Jamaican character: overripe, almost rotten, fruit; gooey, crushed-in-your-hand stone fruits; orchard and citrus fruits; charred, toasted spices. We have thick cane molasses and treacle. It feels impure, far from pristine. This is mucky stuff, but my gosh, it’s wonderful. 

After opening the doors to our new Spirits Shop this spring, we pause to look back on a rich history of bottling spirits at Berry Bros. & Rudd.

If we cast our minds back in time, and think of spirits in England, images of Hogarth’s Gin Lane might spring to mind. Or perhaps, Cornish rum smugglers squirreling away their wares in a cove under darkness.

Our shop at No.3 St James’s Street has witnessed many great tumultuous changes over the centuries: thankfully the gin is much better these days, and you don’t have to solicit a smuggler for a weekend tipple –our new Spirits Shop at No.1 St James’s Street is, in fact, perfectly catered to such needs. As we open the doors to our new store this spring, it’s worth pausing to reflect on the journey up to this point. Let me take you on a bottled history, so to speak, of spirits at Berry Bros. & Rudd.

What do we know?

In February 1944, four German bombs fell between King Street and Pall Mall. Thankfully, our home at No.3 St James’s Street wasn’t destroyed but the impact shook the building (and its people) to the core. Sadly, many of our pre-war records were lost in the ensuing fire on the top floors, and there are many things we’ll never know.

Our earliest existing record referencing a commercial spirit comes from 1853. This is the date of the oldest known Berry Bros. & Rudd own-label cask bottling, relating to a bottle of Scotch whisky. This firmly places us as one of Britain’s oldest independent spirits bottlers, and we still bottle spirits to this day.

In 1854, one year after our first known bottling, George and Henry Berry took the reins at No.3 St James’s Street, after their father’s death. This is when we became “Berry Brothers & Co.”, a name we retained until the Second World War. The business was still very much a grocers at this point, with wine and spirit sales coming on slowly.

In 1896, the last stocks of groceries were sold for good.

As the Berry brothers fostered relationships with the great and good of the era, trading the much-quaffed wines and spirits of the day began to make obvious business sense.

1882

In 1882, the spirits offer was “pretty basic,” says Jon Newman, archivist at Berry Bros. & Rudd. “The annual stock book tells us a few quantities of Scotch and Irish whiskey were offered, but no detail given as to name or quality – except for one Islay. It also confirms that Berry Bros. & Rudd were holding whisky in both bottles and barrels at this date. That was until 1897 when a Glenavon is listed – which became ‘our Glenavon’ in 1902.” In the decades to come, the Berry brothers built a reputation for delectable liquids.

1903

In 1903, King Edward VII’s physician approached us with a task. He was concerned about the King getting cold and potentially ill while out driving his “horseless carriage” – one of his much-loved Daimlers – and wanted the brothers to concoct a warming remedy. Henry is credited with having created the brandy and ginger cordial which we still sell today as The King’s Ginger. Clearly, there was a mastery of spirits in the water at No.3 St James’s.

1907: The impact of Prohibition

By 1907, the market for spirits, particularly whiskies, was gaining significant traction. The company was now producing price lists for customers, like a catalogue of wares, to showcase the range of wines from far-flung places and unusual spirits on offer. Our price list from that year lists such illustrious names as the 1897 Macallan Glenlivet and an 1885 Talisker. Over a century later, we still work closely with both distilleries.

1914

In 1914, Hugh Rudd joined the company, taking the reins alongside Francis Berry (two generations down from the Berry brothers). Meanwhile, across the pond in the USA, the impact of Prohibition was being felt by its people. Smuggling and “whiskey running” were rife, capitalising on alcohol’s scarcity.

1921

In 1921, Francis visited Nassau in the Bahamas where “Berry Brothers” branded spirits were proving very popular. He decided to sell to agents in Nassau and the Berry and Rudd feet were now firmly in the door of the American market. And they knew just what to do next. Francis and Hugh decided the company should produce a light, blended Scotch whisky to cater to the preferences of the day. “It was originally referred to as ‘Scots’ rather than ‘Scotch’ whisky,” says Geordie Willis, our Creative Director, eighth-generation Berry and proud Scotsman.

1923

In 1923, over luncheon in the Parlour at No.3 St James’s Street, Francis and Hugh discussed the idea of a light blended whisky with Scottish artist James McBey, who suggested the name “Cutty Sark” – after the Scottish-built tea clipper. Not only did James conceive a name but he scribbled an illustration of the ship for the bottle’s label on a napkin, there and then. At the point of production, the napkin was sent to the label printers with a request that the final article should “look aged”. In an act of serendipitous error, the labels arrived in that widely recognised, vivid shade of yellow.

Cutty Sark whisky was favoured by Captain William McCoy, a trader working out of the Bahamas and shipping alcohol into international waters. Apocryphal sources have it that he is the eponymous “real McCoy”, and that his association with Cutty Sark led to his name being synonymous with authenticity and quality.

1961: Cutty Sark’s unstoppable voyage

This superlative whisky fuelled Berry Bros. & Rudd’s successes for over 90 years. When Prohibition was repealed, 80,000 cases were exported within the next three years.

In 1961, it became the first Scotch to sell over 12 million bottles in the US market in one year. “Cutty Sark features strongly in our archives, as befits our most successful spirits brand,” says Jon Newman. “Perhaps the most interesting records are a small selection of films of the Cutty Sark Tall Ships Race that we sponsored through the 1970s and ’80s, and some period television adverts made in the ’70s for our international market.”

The secret of Cutty Sark’s domestic and international success has often been put down to its smooth, light body and its lack of peat or smoke on the finish – making it perfect to enjoy before dinner with its accompanying Claret.

In 2010, it was sold to our friends at The Edrington Group, where for many years, it sat proudly alongside another famous brand of ours, The Glenrothes. Since then, it has been sold to La Martiniquaise.

2008: The turn of the millennium

With the advent of the new millennium, the gin boom arrived. Far from being a renaissance of the Hogarth-ian days of “mother’s ruin” and anarchy in the streets, it was a revival of the Martini and a new dawn for the elegant, botanical spirit. And we couldn’t let a piece of the gin pie pass us by.

In 2008, then-Chairman Simon Berry challenged the Spirits Team at Berry Bros. & Rudd to create “the world’s best gin”. Our No.3 Gin was born. Made for us by De Kuyper distillery near Rotterdam, it is crafted to be enjoyed in a cocktail, particularly the classic Martini. Since then, it has won top awards at the International Spirits Challenge no fewer than four times.

More recently, we have launched our Own Selection flavoured gins, our Classic Range of spirits (including whiskies and rums) and our Perspective Series of exclusive Scotch whisky bottlings. We work with some of the world’s most innovative distilleries and creators and seek out those well-hidden gems.

2024

In 2024, as we open the doors of our first dedicated Spirits Shop at No.1 St James’s Street, a new age of collecting and enjoying spirits is upon us. “It is the piece of the jigsaw that completes our property, and a statement on how seriously we take fine spirits,” Geordie tells me. He has been involved with the project throughout, working with architects Mowat & Co, interior decorators Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler and the building firm EC1. Of Mowat & Co, Geordie says, “They’re a fantastic team and were also behind our wine shop at 63 Pall Mall, which opened its doors in 2017. It’s never straightforward working with historic buildings, but our intention has always been to work with the site rather than against it. It’s been great fun.”

We look forward to introducing new collectors to the magic of spirits, and sharing our centuries of knowledge on all things spiritous. From No.3 St James’s Street to No.1, by way of Scotland, the Bahamas and Dutch gin producers – where will this adventure lead us to next?

It’s time to change the narrative on Bordeaux, says Nick Kemball from our Events team. Life as a sommelier almost turned Nick away from the region, though a recent trip there reminded him what he was missing.  

My iPhone’s Memories function recently presented me with a picture of a 1982 Château La Mission Haut-Brion. I often take pictures of food, so I’m usually asked to reminisce over sandwiches of days gone by, but this photo was momentous. It was one of those particularly impactful bottles, demonstrating that wine could be much more than a drink; it could be an experience. And eight years later, I still remember exactly how it tasted. 

Wine enthusiasts will usually be very happy to tell you about their “gateway” wine, the one pivotal bottle that hooked them. It doesn’t have to be Bordeaux, of course, but very often, it is. Mature Bordeaux, when it really gets it right, hits every Pavlovian receptor with precision. This bottle was no exception: dense black fruit, defined aromas of cedar and graphite, all framed nicely in assertive but sensible oak. It was served at a harvest dinner by a friend of mine, a Canadian winemaker. In that magical way that wine sometimes does, it perfectly fit the occasion, lifting not only the food but the entire afternoon into something unforgettable. Wine sometimes resonates at its perfect frequency. 

Shunning Bordeaux

In my career progression from pastry chef to vagrant winemaker’s assistant to sommelier, I discovered that the region I so enjoyed drinking was, in fact, decidedly antiquated. Younger people in the wine trade often view Bordeaux as old-fashioned, commercial, or lacking that elusive “sense of place”.

Peer pressure must have gotten the better of me, as I had a rebellious adolescence as a sommelier, during which I stopped drinking the classics and sought out the obscure and esoteric. If there was a rare, indigenous grape from some far-flung corner of the world, I wanted to be drinking it. I made many great discoveries in the process, I should add. But it wasn’t long before I began to view Bordeaux with the same scepticism as my peers.  

Returning to my wine studies, I find myself revisiting the classics, both figuratively and literally. Last October, I visited Bordeaux. And although this was to be for pleasure, not business, a few concessions were made for producer visits. I am glad, because these visits ended up reshaping some views I had formed about Bordeaux. 

More than meets the eye 

First, there’s the notion that Bordeaux is rarely an artisanal wine. I can see why one might believe this. At Château d’Yquem, the entrance feels not unlike the lobby of a luxury hotel. No expense has been spared in bringing gold accents to almost every interior fixture you can think of. In a particularly resplendent bathroom, every square inch dazzles with gold, from the mosaicked walls to the mirrors (and, if memory serves, even the hand dryers). 

I digress. Sauternes is an impressive place, and Yquem, situated at its highest point, makes it seem even more so. There is a vastness to it, and the sky feels bigger here. Looking out over the stretch from the château’s garden to the Garonne, our guide etched out on the horizon its 113 hectares with a finger. It was hard to fathom that this entire expanse is scoured for botrytised grapes every autumn – by 200 pickers, in as many as 10 passes through the vineyard. In the cellar, there is surprisingly little to see besides the barrels in which Yquem ferments and matures. Yquem is the definition of a wine made in the vineyard. 

The second realisation I have made is that Bordeaux is not stuck in a rut of conventional agriculture, as many claim it to be. Discussing who’s experimenting with organics or biodynamics has become almost trite; nearly every Classified Growth is exploring these practices nowadays.  

If that sounds suspiciously like a fad, one only needs to listen to Thomas Duroux, CEO at Château Palmer, to hear someone completely devoted to the cause. Duroux sees the shift to better farming practices as a necessity. His commitment to being a custodian of Bordelais terroir and the people working within it is admirable.  

It is encouraging to see so many châteaux asking important questions, such as what sustainability should encompass beyond the treatments used in the vineyard. Estates like Château Montrose are revitalising ecosystems, capturing carbon from fermentation and implementing wastewater management systems. These initiatives may not roll off the tongue with the same lyrical quality as “dynamised water” or “lunar cycles”. But looking at the larger picture is what sustainability should be all about: preserving the Bordeaux of tomorrow – the wines, the land and the people who work it. 

An accusation often levelled against Bordeaux is that its wines are homogenous and there isn’t enough diversity. This view is slightly anachronistic.  

There have been times when wines across Bordeaux were made in a plump, extracted style to please influential critics. But there has been a welcome change in recent years. Guillaume Pouthier at Château Les Carmes Haut-Brion is leading this shift, steering the wines in a fantastic new direction with lighter extraction and whole-bunch fermentation – winemaking techniques more akin to Burgundy or the Northern Rhône. The results are truly outstanding: lifted and fragrant wines with buoyant fruitiness and acidity. Their excellent-value second wine, Le C des Carmes Haut-Brion, could be considered a vin de soif (a thirst-quencher) by any measure. 

Finally, I had always assumed that drinking fine Bordeaux was beyond my means. I’ve since discovered a great deal of drinking pleasure in white Bordeaux, second wines and a number of overperforming Classified Growths – Château Grand-Puy-Lacoste, I’m looking at you. Granted, these are not wines with prices that justify weekday drinking, but in the context of wines for special occasions, I’ve started to realise that, in fact, Bordeaux can offer great value for money. 

Changing the narrative 

In my time as a sommelier, I’ve changed my mind about many things. Much like musical tastes, my preferences in wine have shifted constantly over the years. Notably, I’ve come full circle on Bordeaux. My first taste of La Mission Haut-Brion revealed the unquestionable truth that this region produces some of the greatest wines on the planet. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that Bordeaux and its wines remain unchanged for generations, but a closer look presents a very different picture: things are constantly evolving in Bordeaux, to ensure its continuity. 

I’m left feeling that it’s time to change the narrative. Calling Bordeaux old-fashioned is a cliché in and of itself. Hopefully, young sommeliers will start to view the region for what it is: a complex and dynamic region where old meets new. Bordeaux may not be considered “cool”, but it isn’t trying to be. And, just like people, what could be more alluring than a region that is confidently aware of its own identity?

Browse our range of Bordeaux to drink now.