Clos Rougeard - Listening to Wine Beneath the Surface

Clos Rougeard - Listening to Wine, Beneath the Surface

Some wines do not ask to be understood quickly.

They ask for silence first.

Clos Rougeard is one of those places where wine is not explained, but revealed—slowly—through time, restraint, and attention. Not above ground, but beneath it. Not through force, but through patience.

Walking into its underground cellars feels less like entering a winery and more like stepping into another rhythm of life. One where movement slows. Where sound softens. Where the modern world, quite literally, loses signal.

And perhaps that is intentional.

The Discipline of Time

Everything at Clos Rougeard is guided by gravity.

No pumps.

No acceleration.

No desire to hurry wine into becoming something it is not ready to be.

The cellars stretch for what feels like kilometres — long corridors carved into silence — where Cabernet Franc and Chenin Blanc are left to mature without interruption. Here, extraction is minimal. Intervention is discreet. Precision replaces power.

Wine spends two years in used barrels, followed by three years resting quietly in bottle, before it is ever released. Not because it must. But because it should.

Time, here, is not a technique. It is a collaborator.

Elegance Without Volume

Clos Rougeard has never been about intensity, density, or spectacle.

Its reputation was built on elegant - something rare and difficult to achieve.

An elegance that is quiet, not showy.

A delicacy that remains present over time.

A structure that holds the wine together, without overpowering it..

These are wines that do not announce themselves. They wait. They observe.

And if the drinker is willing to listen, they speak with remarkable clarity.

Tasting as a Conversation

During the visit, we tasted eleven wines in total — from barrel samples still finding their shape, to bottles that had already learned how to carry time.

The barrel tastings offered direction, intention, and promise.

But it was the bottled wines—tasted at the far end of the underground cellar—that revealed why patience matters.

Each glass felt like the continuation of a long, quiet sentence.

When Time Speaks Clearly

Brézé 2019 (White)

Chenin Blanc in a restrained, vertical expression. White peach, soft florals, a gentle touch of honey. Balance, layered and calm. Round, yet never heavy.

Poyeux 2014

Fresh, crunchy, immediate. A wine made not for waiting, but for opening. It carries energy rather than weight, reminding us that maturity does not always mean seriousness. Its freshness echoed "เมี่ยงคำ" where lightness, texture, and balance take the lead.

Poyeux 2018

Riper fruit, yet still fresh. Subtle animal notes, never rustic. The tannins are long and composed—present, but disciplined. A wine that holds its posture. It made me think of Thai dishes like "พะโล้", where time does most of the work—allowing savoury depth and structure to emerge without losing freshness.

Clos 2019

Quietly complex. Red fruit, fine spice, silky tannins that unfold rather than insist. Depth without darkness. Length without excess. A wine that rewards attention.

Bourg 2016

Elegance with memory. Ripe fruit, gentle sweet spice, and remarkably soft tannins. This is a wine that does not leave quickly—it stays, not loudly, but faithfully.

What I learn from Clos Rougeard

Clos Rougeard reveals itself without explanation. Through example, rather than instruction.

It reminds us that wine does not need to impress immediately to be meaningful.

That silence can be expressive. That time, when respected, refines rather than dilutes identity.

These wines were never designed to create instant excitement.

They were designed to endure.

And that is why, among true connoisseurs, Clos Rougeard continues to hold its place—quietly, confidently—without ever needing to raise its voice.

Thoughts Beyound the Cellar

As I walked back through the long underground corridors, glass still in hand, I realised that Clos Rougeard is not only about wine.

It is about trust.

Trust in time.

Trust in restraint.

Trust in the listener.

And perhaps that is why these wines resonate so deeply—not just with collectors and professionals, but with anyone willing to slow down long enough to hear them.

Some wines ask to be tasted.

Others ask to be listened to.

Clos Rougeard asks for both. 🍷

Grateful to Cyril, director of Clos Rougeard, for a visit led with clarity, precision, and generosity.