Chateau Rayas the Ultimate Chateauneuf du Pape
- adrianlatimer61
- Jan 2
- 5 min read
There have been many obituaries, eulogies and just RIPs to Emmanuel Reynaud since his much too young passing in November 2025. So it seemed the right moment to broach one of those iconic bottles that I am now too scared to uncork. Impossibly unaffordable to replace, dangerous to open in case a disappointment leaves you thinking just how much you could have sold it for. The conundrum that is the modern world of cult wines.
I have drunk two bottles of Chateau Rayas in the last 30 years, both relatively recently, but both after various aperitifs and though both were very impressive, I couldn’t take proper mental note. So now I wanted to sit down with a bottle at home with my wife and really listen to what it had to say.
Why? Because everyone says that it’s a Chateauneuf (CNP) apart from all the rest, that it’s the most Burgundian of all, the most floral, elegant and sublime. That its sandy soil (not the usual flat rounded galet stones of CNP that act like thermal radiators during the night) creates the difference, enforced by the fact that it’s not made with the usual 13 grape varieties (even including a white if wished). No, just 100% Grenache. And whole cluster (ie including stems) fermentation and old large casks. No destemming and small oak barrels here.
Everything about this particular CNP puts it somewhere else.
Mr Reynaud took over in 1997 after the sudden death of his uncle. He was known as a very discrete man, the domaine impossible to find and unmarked, the place simple, and as it were unfiltered and unscrubbed. No frills. It was almost impossible to get granted a visit and if you were one of the ultra-fortunate clients you just got what you were given (a mixture of various Cote du Rhones and, just maybe, a Rayas).
All of which sounds familiar in these days when quiet, brilliant winemakers suddenly find themselves the much sought after darlings of the wine blogosphere, whether they like it or not. When I bought my few bottles of Rayas, they cost 2 or maybe 3 times the price of Beaucastel. By the 2020s that was ten times.
I have to admit that I approached all this with some scepticism. I’m not a fan of the new wave of cult wines, but unlike many now, Mr Reynaud was never one to court publicity or favour, and by all accounts disliked the speculative frenzy over his wines. Happily old school. But is the wine really that special? It’s the southern Rhone, not Vosne-Romanee?
I used to love CNP and buy a lot of it. I think it was Robert Parker’s favourite home tipple, which I guess says a lot, given his penchant for big bold flavours. But as you get older, I think your palate, like wine, dries out, and you seek less not more, a progress not aided by global warming. I recently sold some Clos des Papes, a highly rated star of the appellation, as it was over 15% and tasted like port. Over Christmas the ‘kids’ (ok, aged around 30…) asked for a small wine tasting of reds, and we finished with a Vieux Telegraphe 2010, another highly rated star. They loved it, but we were happy to give them the rest of the bottle for their pizza out with friends whilst we kept the lighter and much cheaper Pinot…
There is much written about decanting hours before drinking, which isn’t really my style, but I did decant it 3 hours beforehand and half an hour before, I poured out a glass into my favourite Conterno Sensory glass. I thought the wine deserved as much.
2001 Chateau Rayas. The moment I started to decant it I knew this was going to be quite an experience. The colour was a lovely ruby-garnet, shining in the glass. The nose, well, people all talk about the explosive aroma of crushed strawberries and, yes, I get it.
Many say they’d mistake it blind for Burgundy, but though it does have that hugely aromatic red fruited perfume, it’s not Pinot. Its 14% weight is still super elegant, but it’s not Burgundy and if you search behind the bowl of red fruit and roses you find a gentle undertow of lavender, thyme and pepper, that famous garrigue taste that encapsulates CNP. But here instead of being the brass section blasting out in front, it’s a subtle second violin as accompaniment. Truly aromatic and arresting, but for me more a nod towards the best of northern Italy than Burgundy. But ultimately it is CNP, that breath from the garrigue gives it away, it’s just in a totally different set of clothes, with a far better tailor.
The taste is as powerful as the nose, but neither is too much. It’s like raspberry liqueur without the alcohol. It’s sweet without being cloying and then on the finish you find a whisper of that garrigue and a soft brush of tannin. The texture is like silk.
We drank every drop, of course. My initial efforts to be objectively critical soon faded to pure enjoyment. There are iconic domaines that stand truly apart, like Leroy/d’Auvenay in Burgundy and no doubt Soldera in Montalcino (not that I can comment as I’ve never even sniffed it and sadly never will). But Chateau Rayas is definitely up there with them, the iconic wine, the ultimate wine in Chateauneuf du Pape. CNP meets Burgundy, and much more.
I’m very happy I did not sell it. I have 2 bottles left, a 2004 and a 2007, and we both agreed that they were not for sale. Sometimes a wine has so much class, originality and beauty that you just need to forget the rest and enjoy it.
After all, that’s what it was made for.
A Masterclass from Emmanuel Reynaud. RIP.
Happy New Year.
Postscript - ‘The Wine in My Glass’
After some encouragement and a fair few blog posts, I published (Sept 2025) a book about my travels in the wine world - the people, places and, of course, wines. I am not a professional, so everything I say is objective and unbiased (so I can criticise when other journalists do not dare to do so for instance) and any profits will go to the Vendanges Solidaires association which was set up in 2016 to help winemakers who are in trouble after suffering the extreme weather conditions (frost, hail, fire, flood etc) which sadly are becoming ever more frequent: www.vendangessolidaires.com.
The book ranges from California to Sicily, via Salta, Jujuy and Patagonia in Argentina, Valtellina, Piemonte and Tuscany in Italy, Madeira and of course all over France (Burgundy, Chablis, Sancerre, Beaujolais, Bordeaux, the Rhone).
If you have found any pleasure and/or interest in this blog, I think you might enjoy it, especially as it has been brilliantly illustrated by Arabella Langlands-Perry who managed to juggle bringing up two young kids, helping run Maceo/Willi’s Wine Bar in Paris and producing artwork with an abundance of both talent and wit. Brava.
‘The Wine in My Glass – Tales of Wines, Winemakers and Places’
Published by The Medlar Press Limited, Fishguard, Pembrokeshire, autumn 2025. www.medlarpress.com
Available from Medlar in UK, and/or from me in France or Willis Wine Bar in Paris.
Price UK Pounds 26 from Medlar or 35 Euros. All profits to charity.
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