Concerto di Venezia 2021

Let’s attempt to translate the poetry of Jean-Pierre Robinot’s Concerto di Venezia 2021 into words, though these wines feel like they were made to defy such simplifications. To drink this wine is to tumble headfirst into a sensory experience that’s both startlingly primal and profoundly refined, like stepping into a velvet-draped room that’s been left open to the wild.

Robinot’s wines don’t follow a script—they hum with an energy that feels ancient yet strangely familiar. At first, it’s a tangle of dark berries, wild herbs, and the faint whisper of forest floor, like the Loire itself breathing through the glass. The texture is magnetic, neither rough nor polished, but pulsing with life, as if the wine is still in conversation with the vineyard.

And then it shifts. The wine unfolds, its edges soften, and suddenly it feels like a dance you’ve always known but forgotten. The Cabernet Franc hums its tune of ripe cherries and subtle spice, while the Pineau d’Aunis layers in its signature intrigue—peppery, floral, and mischievous. You’re no longer in the Loire, or anywhere at all. You’re in the rhythm of the wine, where tradition dissolves, and something elemental takes its place.

This isn’t just a wine; it’s a reminder. A reminder to listen, to taste, to feel. It’s Robinot’s voice in a bottle, unfiltered, unadorned, and utterly unforgettable.