Diary

Magnus Nilsson in his apple cider cellar, January 2025

While visiting the former Faviken chef Magnus Nilsson's home in Skåne, Sweden in January to taste ciders from his recently established estate orchard project, Nilsson spoke about one difference between making cider and making wine that caught my ear. He said that the more he tasted his non-interventionist ciders he had resting in barrel, that the more they seemed to all go in the wrong direction. When he finally built up the will to let the barrels rest completely, free of any touches by him or anyone else, this is when the ciders started to taste real and complete. He only tasted annually or so now, he said while we stood around a smattering of barrels in his state of the art cellar. Needless to say, the ciders that we tasted of Magnus' only came from bottle. It made me think of all of the winemakers I've visited, and whom receive visitors frequently, maybe even a few times a week to taste out of barrel. Tops of barrels or tanks frequently get opened, air flows in and out, and wine mixes with itself over and over and week after week. Not being a winemaker myself, I really don't know what sort of effect this process has on wine, but the general consensus seems to be that stillness matters. Are winemakers doing a disservice to themselves by taking in frequent guests to taste their wares? Maybe fermented grapes are more resilient than fermented apples? I really don't know. But I think what Magnus observed with his own ciders brings up the important issue of patience, one which is so engrained within the enjoyment of wine at all levels.



There was for me such an excitement in discovering natural wine, unpacking layers of mystery and nuance, and learning about both new and old producers that I still feel to this day, even ten years after my first experiences with these magical liquids. The fervor and lust for knowledge and experience is real, but I've also learned to hold back more, to be patient with bottles in my own cellar, and even with wines already in my glass. To sit back and to watch the mystery unfold firsthand is perhaps the most beautiful aspect of all of this. Patience and time matter.

BAS 3/21/2024



Sipping Thomas’ first vintage of Savagnin out of magnum with Thomas himself at the brilliant Auberge de Bellevie in Grozon, Jura this past January. 

BAS 2/27/2024






A deep winter visit in the Auvergne on January 28, 2025 with Benoit Rosenberger. Gamay d’Auvergne and tripes in broth for lunch. I was a bit exhausted at this point in my travels so ended up taking a nap on Benoit’s couch after said tripes. I forgot how funny Rosenberger is, a true lone ranger.

BAS 2/22/2024

Tasting with Kenjiro Kagami at his cellar in Grusse on January 25, 2025.

Kenjiro took his time during the late afternoon, and we tasted about 15 or so different white wines over a couple of hours, ranging from 2019 to 2024, and mostly from barrel. It was a very interesting experience for me to taste these wines without any label interference and no hype guy at the table, speaking about how rare and hard to find these wines are. I felt for the first time that I could meet Kagami’s wines where they were at. And of course, with most of them coming from barrel, they weren’t necessarily all finished either, each showing different degress of reduction (and in some cases sugar), although in Kagami’s hands it’s the type of reduction that I crave, always integrated and part of the bigger whole, never masking the material held within. In balance. Kenjiro is a super focused and humble guy, guarded but friendly, exacting and yet open to the reality that to make natural wine is to give up control. 



Thank you E.

BAS 2/21/2024

Random thought:

Drinking only Champagne is boring. Drinking only Mendall is boring.

BAS 11/4/2024



Alain Castex sharing a bottle of Soula 1997, amongst other gems at Villa Mas, March 10, 2022.

BAS 10/31/24








Sipping with Bertrand Celce of Wine Terroirs in Angers, February 1, 2020

BAS 10/14/24




I finally learned my lesson and opened this two hours before we took our first sips, essential for the wine to sort it self out, and for it to reveal its more sensual side. It’s hard to describe in words something so substantial and elusive, ephemeral at the same time. Simultaneously head knocking and caressing, a magic potion so far from the norm, even in the Jura. There is such a lightness of touch here, and a salty complexity that reminds me of the more oxidative bottles from Selosse. Tasting notes don’t do the VSO justice, and the only thing we wished for was a bigger bottle.

BAS 10/12/24




A couple of bottles that we drank at Ernst in Berlin back in May. I didn’t take any photos of the 40 or so courses that were dropped in rapid succession because IRL was just so much better that evening. You know the meal isn’t actually that good if you want to pull your phone out and document every single dish that shows up. Well, maybe sometimes, but definitely not this particular night. While Dylan and crew exceeded my high expectations, the meal was hard to process, and I feel like it’s one of those restaurants one would have to return to over and over again to have a semblance of understanding of just what was actually going on—obviously a couple of barriers of entry there. We had a hard time deciding on a first bottle as the list (on ipad) was massive, and food started coming almost immediately after a welcome glass of La Parcelle. It felt like I was almost being shamed for not having arranged the bottles we would drink ahead of time over email. I understand this is the way in Japan a lot of times where lists aren’t so common, but when I know a place has a deep list I like to be a bit more spontaneous with my choices. Anyways, after a bottle of Morgane Turlier white that we couldn’t drink because of the insane amount of reduction, we decided on a beautiful 2015 Feneuil Meunier that we didn’t start enjoying until around course 10, and then moved onto dupif from Catherine and Manu, which besides being the most affordable bottle on the list was just so delicious and everything that made me fall in love with wild Gamays from the Auvergne in the first place. I had drank this bottle once before in Adelaide, Australia in 2018, and had dreamed about it since. It didn’t disappoint. And then finally a late harvest Barla from Case Corini, a winemaker I’ve learned to love from the Japanese. It was absolutely bonkers with the strawberry laden desserts. 

BAS 10/9/24






A day spent picking with Aurelien Lefort and friends, September 2022, Auvergne, France.

BAS 10/7/24






A few scenes from Food Wine Music, an event in which I took part in musically earlier this spring at Apollo Bar in Copenhagen. Many thanks to Frederik Bille Brahe, Anders Frederik Steen, Pierre Jancou, Gustav Klint, and Emil Broomé. I’m missing the late spring Scandinavian light so much.

BAS 10/7/24