Abracadabra

Just 20 minutes down the hill from the Auberge de Chassignolles—a short distance between any two locations in Auvergne—lies Pressat, one of hundreds of little hamlets that dot the lushly green pastoral surroundings of the heartland of France. Pressat is where Hannah Fuellenkemper keeps her cellar; a hard-edged bunker space where after the chaos of transporting grapes from elsewhere in the Auvergne, the Herault, the Ardeche, and sometimes even further afloat subsides, the fruit comes to macerate, to be pressed, to mix, and to eventually sit still and rest.  

Hannah, who shows zero reticence at being classified as a négociante, is adament about not wanting to be a full-time farmer. For her, the setup here in Pressat is more than enough, and since taking over a plot in Boudes that formerly belonged to Aurélien Lefort, time is as short as ever. To taste with Hannah at her cellar is to open one’s palate and mind to the possibilities of mixage—not only in terms of varietal, but also in respect to person and place. A Cinsault from the storied Gerald Oustric could potentially get mixed with a Viognier from Mattia Carfagna’s holdings in the Herault, or a directly pressed Muscat passes through Gamay d’Auvergne skins, and once ingested, everything starts to make sense. Fuellenkemper’s drinks are hommages, but also juices that point to something new, true, and universal—everything and nothing matter all the same after tasting. Hannah’s wines showcase a true talent in vinification and resourcefulness, and her bottles are both unexpected and simply fun to drink—the old spirit of the Auvergne from and for a new generation of drinkers willing to look beyond the veil.