By the Glass

Zind-Humbrecht's Clos Windsbuhl, out of Hunawihr, is Riesling playing the long game: the nose stays discreet at first, then unfurls into citrus and white fruit over a mineral, saline spine. It's a wine of structure rather than showmanship. Delicate on entry, then real acidity firms up through the mid-palate to a dry, tensile finish.

Once the Chianti Classico Riserva bottling that carried the Vigneto Tignanello name, this 2020 is the wine that helped rewrite the rules on Sangiovese, blending in Cabernet against 630 years of Antinori tradition. Mocha and graphite sit over bing and black cherry, with a palate that's genuinely easy to love without asking permission first.

A dry-farmed blend of old-vine Monastrell and Cabernet Sauvignon from Spain's high plateau, where extreme temperature swings and limestone soils concentrate dark fruit into something lean and mineral-driven. Fermented in small open vats and built for food—this is mountain wine that doesn't soften at the edges.

Merlot from Pomerol's high terrace, with fruit off parcels that neighbor Le Pin, Trotanoy, and Pétrus. This is a micro-cuvée the Raynaud-Lebreton family has been coaxing out of blue clay and gravel since 1772.

Bartolo Mascarello has been the conscience of traditional Barolo since 1918, and this 2020 shows why: a blend drawn from clay-and-tufa vineyards across Barolo commune and La Morra, farmed without irrigation or chemical inputs, vines ranging from newly replanted Cannubi to 60-70 year old San Lorenzo stock. Expect the tension traditionalism is known for.

Isabel Ferrando's Colombis draws from three distinct parcels, sandy soils at Colombis and le Cristia, clay at les Roues, with the old vines, 60 years average, doing the heavy lifting. Whole-cluster fermentation and 18 months in neutral demi-muids keep the oak out of the way, so what you get is pure Grenache: silky, spiced, structured without being showy.

Blewitt Springs sand, biodynamic farming, and vines dating to 1946 give this Ovitelli its quiet intensity. McLaren Vale doing something less muscular than its reputation suggests. Expect texture and grip more than fruit bomb, a wine built on 87 hectares of estate history rather than winemaking flash. This is old vines and old ground talking, not the label.

The Rocks District is one of the strangest appellations on earth, a single soil series of basalt cobblestones laid down by an ice-age flood, and it vanishes within feet of the boundary.

Leonetti Cellar didn't just start Walla Walla's wine industry in 1977. The family had already been farming this ground since 1906, and that century of vine memory shows in the glass. This 2019 carries the kind of depth that only comes from land the family has never stopped working. Walla Walla's first commercial winery, still pouring like it.

Chardonnay-driven with crisp citrus, white flowers, and a fine persistent mousse. The Laurent-Perrier house in Tours-sur-Marne pioneered the Chardonnay-led Brut style and made it their signature. Proof that you don't need a prestige cuvée to drink serious Champagne.

Traditional-method Cava from the indigenous trio — green apple, lemon pith, and a touch of bread crust. Aged on the lees in Penedès, the appellation that effectively invented Cava in the 1870s. The honest argument against spending $40 on Prosecco.

Kimmeridgian limestone, clay, and marl under 25-30 year old vines. The kind of ground that turns up fossils, literally, as Régis Minet still hands them out to visitors wandering his rows. Lucia now runs the cellar, and this VV bottling shows it: taut, mineral-driven Sauvignon Blanc with none of the tropical shortcuts. Real Pouilly-Fumé, from people who dig for it.

Domaine Laroche's Saint Martin bottling is Chablis doing what Chablis does best: white blossom and ripe white fruit riding over a chassis of taut, chalky minerality. There's real complexity in the 2023, but purity wins the argument. The finish lingers on stone and citrus long after the fruit's said its piece. This is Chardonnay before oak ever entered the conversation.

A Douro blend red from a family better known for Port. Altano is where the Symingtons let the Touriga Franca, Tinta Roriz, and Tinta Barroca speak in a quieter register. Cold-fermented and softly macerated to keep tannins gentle and the fruit fresh. Expect forest floor and violet lifting off a core of red fruit, all carried on a soft, easy-drinking texture rather than Douro's usual muscle.

Eighth-generation Saumur-Champigny from Fabien Duveau, farmed organically over tuffeau limestone that keeps the vines even-keeled and the fruit vivid. Concrete tank fermentation with native yeasts keeps this Cabernet Franc unadorned. Fresh, juicy, with the grape's classic aromatic lift and velvet tannins from that clay-limestone base. Honest Loire Cab Franc that over-delivers for the price, glass after glass.

Dubrul is serious Cabernet ground, and Brook & Bull treats it with the restraint you'd hope for. Low oak, no varnish, just dark fruit and firm tannin doing the talking through a long mid-palate. Ashley Trout's third Walla Walla project runs on curiosity rather than house style, so each vintage reads like its own statement rather than a rerun. Cabernet that trusts the fruit enough to leave the toolbox mostly closed.

Amavi's been pouring Walla Walla Valley syrah since before the current tasting room's decks existed, and this 2023 shows why the estate's stuck around for 25 years. Expect the dark, savory grip syrah does best here. Fruit with some muscle behind it, not a fruit bomb dressed up in oak. A quarter-century in, Amavi isn't trying to impress you, just pour you something honest.