Bottles worth
talking about.
Small growers. Honest importers. Nothing on the list without a story.
Wine that tastes like somewhere.
We're not chasing trophies. We're chasing bottles that taste like the soil they came from, and people you'd want to have dinner with.
That means small producers, mostly. Some biodynamic. Some organic. All of them making a wine that couldn't have come from anywhere else.
Come in for a glass, ask what we're pouring today, and see where it goes.
Six styles.
A hundred stories.
Our list changes with the season and the mood in the room. These are the categories you'll always find on it. That is the shape of things.
Bright, saline, unhurried.
Grüner, Chenin, Assyrtiko. Loire in the front row. Something quietly Cheshire, too.
Lean into these.
Gamay, Nerello, old-vine Grenache. Reds you can drink an evening of and still walk home.
For the curious.
Skin contact done gently. Start with a friuli. We'll steer you from there.
Dry, savoury, all-year.
Serious rosé from the Rhône and Loire. Not the pool-side kind.
Grower Champagne. Pét-nat. Franciacorta.
Small houses only. Because celebration deserves the good stuff.
The good long ending.
Madeira, Sauternes, a Rutherglen Muscat for the ones who linger.
Three glasses.
An hour.
No jargon.
Our small-format tastings run most weekends. Three carefully chosen glasses around a theme, whether a region, a grape or a producer, with cheese and charcuterie to see them through.
Come alone. Come with friends. Come with the person who says they "don't like white."