The vintage 2023 in Burgundy has much in common with 2020 and 2018—“Burgundy 2.0” vintages, you could say. Modern in the sense that while they are marked by a warmer climate, they also show signs that the region has nonetheless learned to adapt to keep a classic charm. These vintages, which tend to be powerful and rich, are beautifully proportioned and are excellent candidates for long aging. Simon Follin-Arbelet believes one of the keys to achieving this balance lies in part with extended barrel time done in his teeth-chatteringly cold, deep cellar, which helps the wine shed some weight and leave room for refreshing acidity to shine through. Another key lies in the land itself. You’ll notice the premier cru Clos du Chapitre is positively singing. It’s deep and dark, yet with lots of crunch on the fruit, which Simon attributes to its quite particular, un-Aloxe terroir of high limestone content, making it, in his words, more “Charmes-like and delicate.” Or Les Vercots, another Aloxian anomaly—a tiny island of premier cru vines surrounded by village-level plots, due to its shallow and rocky soil, giving hearty tannin and robust fruit. A thrill of a wine now, with an aging potential to outlast even the youngest among us. Be sure not to miss the Pernand-Vergelesses premier cru Les Fichots, Simon’s personal favorite of the vintage, and the one he finds himself pulling corks from most often these days—inferring, I suppose, that this is what Corton drinkers drink when they’re not drinking Corton.

While tasting through Massimo Padova’s wines in the cool, dark interior of the Riofavara winery this July, the inevitable and familiar question arose: how did you first meet Kermit? Massimo smiled proudly, and he responded, “It was fate.” The way Massimo tells it, 2010 was one of the most brutally hot summers on record, much like the day of our visit. Kermit sought to escape the sweltering heat in a local refuge, a restaurant called Osteria Nero d’Avola in Taormina, where an eccentric sommelier, Turi Sigliato, approached his table. Recognizing that Kermit was a man of serious wine culture, he began to propose his favorite wines—all Nero d’Avolas. Kermit politely declined, indicating that he was more interested in exploring the Nerello Mascalese–based wines of Mount Etna. “Bring me anything BUT Nero d’Avola,” he firmly told the sommelier. Turi returned with an unmarked carafe of red wine, which Kermit tasted and declared to be delightful. The wily Turi then revealed he had brought him a Nero d’Avola anyway: a bottle of young Massimo Padova’s Nero d’Avola.
     Upon receiving Kermit’s enthusiastic reaction, Turi immediately called Massimo and instructed him to come to Taormina to meet this American importer. Massimo set out the next day—another oppressively hot afternoon—to meet Kermit in a piazza in Taormina, bottles in hand. However, the extreme temperatures had warmed the bottles, so Kermit ducked into a nearby bar and requested a bag of ice, which he used as an impromptu ice bucket in order to chill the wines and taste them properly. Massimo was both touched and impressed by this gesture of kindness; in addition to Kermit’s professionalism, he demonstrated his respect for Massimo and his life’s work. This meeting marked the beginning of a long collaboration between the two men, as the wines of Riofavara became Kermit’s very first Sicilian imports. An unlikely, but happy conclusion, given the fact that Kermit indeed was looking for “anything but Nero d’Avola!”