This small parcel has a fruit-forward, approachable style, yet with intense spice and licorice in there as well, perhaps from the deep-rooted old Syrah vines.

I would say that Faury does not make Viognier, but rather one hell of a Condrieu, replete with huge apricot and peach aromas and a fresh, regal palate.

The depth, complexity, and crushed-stone minerality of a great Côte-Rôtie, all while maintaining inviting youthful fruit.

From high-altitude slopes above the Rhône river, this Syrah exhibits remarkable purity and grace.

From the classic aromas of graphite, black fruit, and roasted spice, to the total finesse of its tannins, this is Côte-Rôtie at its best.

Like eating lemon curd at a party that Renoir might have painted—think something like Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette.

Cool in the mouth, with a whiff of smoke and game, this soulful little country Syrah will do a jig with your pâtés and terrines.

It is a real-deal northern Rhône roasted-slope Syrah that walks the tightrope perfectly between creamy fruit, meaty tannins, and fresh spine.

The violets, tapenade, and juicy black fruit in your glass is much unchanged from how it’s always been (and should be).

The perfect lively, uncomplicated Syrah you’ll want to have over and over again.