The Northern Rhône has been pretty obsessively watched and picked clean for several generations, so in general it’s darn-near impossible to find new and exciting producers there. Imagine our surprise when our team, several days into the first wine trip post covid-19, stumbled upon Christian Lericq and Collette Barrier and their truly magical St. Josephs, which, pretty instantly, we decided we couldn’t live without. Four years later, we’re through the roof to offer our second vintage from the most enigmatic vignerons in the Rhône, and possibly the whole hexagon.

That no one heard of the wines until recently isn’t a surprise – although Christian has been a local feature for over 25 years, bottling under his name, it wasn’t until 2016 when he and Collette officially incorporated into a tiny domaine with, it should be noted, one of the most anonymous names one could think of. Up until that point, really, it seems production was just too small to bother with export. Moreover, Christian himself is deeply shy and avoids the limelight whenever possible, often to the point of refusing photographs. Several of Lericq’s drinking buddies managed to score some limelight in the last few decades, notably Herve Souhaut, René Dard and Francois Ribo, but one gets the impression with both Christian and Collette that they’re happy to let the wines be the beginning and end of their story. There will never be a lot of wines, they’re never going to be cheap and we believe wholeheartedly that you all will never forget them once you taste.

Christian and Collette’s consist of 4.5ha of Syrah clustered around the commune of Turnon-sur-Rhône, all of which, originally, were part of the Saint-Joseph appellation. The vineyards are all granite soil, steep and terraced. In 2021, several of their parcels lost the designation, due to not unsurprising internecine appellation politics. This doesn’t seem to bother the vignerons much, as they relish the opportunity to make some different cuvees and experiment a bit. All of their holdings are farmed the same way, which is to say, largely hands-off – all work in the vineyards is done by hand, and they vines are nourished for primarily by tissanes, compost, and, during times of great stress, miniscule treatments of copper and sulfur. Vinification is all whole-bunch, pressed directly into tank or barrel, with as little intervention as possible, including zero fining, filtering, and incredibly low doses of sO2 added on a very per-case basis.None of our currency selection has seen any additions at all.
The Northern Rhône has been pretty obsessively watched and picked clean for several generations, so in general it’s darn-near impossible to find new and exciting producers there. Imagine our surprise when our team, several days into the first wine trip post covid-19, stumbled upon Christian Lericq and Collette Barrier and their truly magical St. Josephs, which, pretty instantly, we decided we couldn’t live without. Four years later, we’re through the roof to offer our second vintage from the most enigmatic vignerons in the Rhône, and possibly the whole hexagon.

That no one heard of the wines until recently isn’t a surprise – although Christian has been a local feature for over 25 years, bottling under his name, it wasn’t until 2016 when he and Collette officially incorporated into a tiny domaine with, it should be noted, one of the most anonymous names one could think of. Up until that point, really, it seems production was just too small to bother with export. Moreover, Christian himself is deeply shy and avoids the limelight whenever possible, often to the point of refusing photographs. Several of Lericq’s drinking buddies managed to score some attention in the last few decades, notably Herve Souhaut, René Dard and Francois Ribo, but one gets the impression with both Christian and Collette that they’re happy to let the wines be the beginning and end of their story. There will never be a lot of wines, they’re never going to be cheap and we believe wholeheartedly that you all will never forget them once you taste.

Christian and Collette’s consist of 4.5ha of Syrah clustered around the commune of Turnon-sur-Rhône, all of which, originally, were part of the Saint-Joseph appellation. The vineyards are all granite soil, steep and terraced. In 2021, several of their parcels lost the designation, due to not unsurprising internecine appellation politics. This doesn’t seem to bother the vignerons much, as they relish the opportunity to make some different cuvees and experiment a bit. All of their holdings are farmed the same way, which is to say, well– all work in the vineyards is done by hand, and they vines are nourished for primarily by tissanes, compost, and, during times of great stress, miniscule treatments of copper and sulfur. Vinification is all whole-bunch, pressed directly into tank or barrel, with as little intervention as possible, including zero fining, filtering, and incredibly low doses of sO2 added on a very per-case basis. None of our current selection has seen any additions at all.

Although such lo-fi winemaking is rare in the Rhône, it’s by no means unheard of among progressive vignerons. That being said, we’re deeply confident there’s nothing else in the region that manages to taste the way La Ferme de L’Arbres wines do. They fly in the face of the trend towards buccal-fat removed and civilized glossy syrahs that loll around in oak – instead, these wines crackle with primacy and a giddy drink-me-now-vibe that is rather stupefying. They are bloody and electric and wines of immediacy, suffused with a rustic charm. Our tasting notes are, unsurprisingly, full of hyperbole – these are wines that feel like the blood rush you get when you miss a step or when you look off the edge of a skyscraper or when you think you saw your ex at the farmer’s market wearing your favorite tote bag. They are wines of tremendous feeling and empathy and feel like the evil twins of the shy and retiring vignerons who ushered them into the world. We love them.