Yves Cuilleron has always been a favorite producer of mine. I remember the first time I tried his Roussanne; I think it was a 2012. I was blown away by this wine. I didn’t know whites could taste like that.

Times change though. Shortly after our reunion I found another job, and left. I said goodbye to my love and promised I would bring them to my new wine shop as soon as I could.

Fast forward to my first day at my new job. I had a new boss to impress and I wasn’t about to be anything but a model employee, so I took on the job of reorganizing the entire stock room. After shuffling boxes around for what seemed like too long, I began trying to make sense of the organized loose bottles. And somewhere, tucked behind some bottles of Italian reds, hid this little guy. At just 500 ml, he and his brothers were something I had never seen before. I quickly grabbed one and approached my new boss.


“David, can you tell me about this?” I blurted out. He looked at it for a minute, and replied, “I don’t know what that is.” Naturally I was confused, and excited. He moved to the computer and started looking though the inventory.

“I think that bottle was here when I bought the place.” He explains. “The old owner’s wife started a distribution company, so the majority of the wines in the shop were from her business.”

I paused for a moment. Something like this needs to be processed. Hesitantly, I asked, “Would you be upset if I bought one?”

He smiled, “Why don’t we just open one?”

It was like I had just walked into a ray of sunshine. I grabbed the bottle and quickly threw it into the fridge, smiling from ear to ear.

Finally, we opened the 2006 Yves Cuilleron Roussiliere. It sang notes I had only heard rumors of. The golden richness of its color was staring me down, glowing like eyes. Almost the same color as honey, but with that glow reserved only for the prettiest wines. How did you end up here, with me? I swirl and close my eyes. Baked apricots danced up to me from the glass. Gorgeous, rich and proud, but so delicate. First sip, the burst of sweet apricots. Raw honey sticks to your tongue while overripe sweet peach and apricot mingle in between. Think candied peaches and mango chunks. Even a note of figs comes through. Then the slight pith starts to emerge, and wise old thoughts of minerals come back in to play. It’s subtle to start, but as I sit thinking about that acidity, it still plays in the center of my tongue. It gains intensity and cuts through the richness, but still leaves the wine melting on your tongue.

What an experience.

I almost didn’t want to use this bottle as my first review. It just sets the standards so high. But how could I not write about this?