<div class="wysiwyg-text-align-center">A Woman’s Touch:
Lafleur 1985-2022</div>

&nbsp;BY NEAL MARTIN | SEPTEMBER 2, 2025

“This
is a man's, man's, man's world. But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a
woman or a girl…” So sang
James Brown in a rare moment where he put down the funk and delivered this searing
R&amp;B chart-topper in 1966. Are these lyrics sexist, or do they simply
portray the gender inequality that was endemic at the time? In fact, these
words were written by a woman, Betty Jean Newsome, inspired by her boyfriends’
remarks, one of whom was James Brown. &nbsp;In
any sense, they are apposite words for the first evening in a weekend dedicated
to Château Lafleur, because whilst offering commentary upon the flights, it was
brought to my attention that I kept referring solely to Baptiste Guinaudeau and
unintentionally erasing his wife Julie from the story. In that instant, I understood
that at the heart of Lafleur is not just a propitious vineyard, but two husband-and-wife
teams: Jacques and Sylvie Guinaudeau, then Baptiste and Julie Guinaudeau. To
quote my own Pomerol tome, these couples give Lafleur its heartbeat. 



Having expounded on Lafleur
and the Guinaudeaus over many years, this is an opportune moment to shift the
focus to Julie Guinaudeau. Whilst most of my tastings are held with Baptiste, Julie
is never far away, working in one of their vineyards or tinkering in the winery,
keeping the ship afloat, as they say. Julie Guinaudeau is just one in a
matriarchal lineage that made Pomerol what it is today. Flick back through the
pages of Pomerol’s history. Catherine Conseillan played a pivotal role in
Pomerol’s formation in the mid-eighteenth century. There is Mme. Loubat, the grande
dame at Petrus, and Mme. Ducasse at L’Evangile. Today, Juliette Couderc has
stepped into Mme. Ducasse’s shoes and works with Saskia de Rothschild. There is
Noëmie Durantou at l’Église-Clinet and Marielle Cazaux at La Conseillante, not forgetting
Dany Rolland at Le Bon Pasteur and co-founding their laboratory in Catusseau. Germane
to Lafleur, let us raise a glass to Marie and Thérèse Robin. Together with
their brood of chickens clucking round the winery, the Robins ran Lafleur and
Le Gay from 1946 after the sudden passing of their father, André Robin,
unwittingly creating a legend.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1756824730039-attersee_Vinous.jpg">Perfect
weather for a tasting on the banks of Attersee. The rain clouds disappeared the
day before the event and returned the day after!This
two-day event on the idyllic banks of Attersee in Austria, between azure lake
and soaring mountains, marked four decades of Lafleur under the aegis of la
famille Guinaudeau. Organisers Katharina and Konstanin Wölf’s late father,
Carlo, was a close friend of Jacques and Sylvie Guinaudeau, and the bond
between the two families continued to the next generation. That history fostered
a relaxed and jovial atmosphere that neatly counterbalanced the serious task of
tasting over 50 wines. The tasting centred upon magnums of every vintage of
Lafleur between 1985 and 2022, all of which had been shipped from the estate in
May. Adding to the light-heartedness were local musicians who sang, strummed
and parped throughout the lunch and two dinners, which featured special menus
by Michelin-starred chefs Konstantin Filippou and Phillip Rachinger. Were there
lederhosen? You bet. Not for the chefs, though, they were in their whites. During
the Saturday afternoon, I sat down with Julie Guinaudeau to find out more about
Lafleur’s present-day “mother.” 





“My family is originally
from the Lot-et-Garonne towards the southeast of Bordeaux,” Guinaudeau told me,
looking radiant as ever in the Austrian sun. “They were farmers. They owned
vines, although the fruit was sold to the co-operative. I would often work in
the vineyard with my parents, though I never made wine. My parents were not
connoisseurs. They just enjoyed drinking wine now and then like everyone. I
studied in Bordeaux for the baccalauréat. This is where I met Baptiste
when I was 16 years old. At that time, I had no idea about Lafleur. The college
where we studied agronomy was not far from Lafleur. I continued to study
oenology for a BTS [a two-year vocational degree].”

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1756824758652-julie+guinaudeau_VT.jpg">

Julie
Guinaudeau, obviously enjoying this lunchtime tasting of the most recent
vintages of Lafleur. 

I
cheekily asked Julie if Baptiste bought a bottle of Lafleur on their first
date, though she laughed and noted that it was something less expensive. 

“The
first Lafleur that I drank was with the Guinaudeau family. It was a bottle of
1989. I remember that it was explosive and precise. It had floral, rose-like
aromatics that are typical of Lafleur. I had grown up learning about the
quality of vegetables and meat, training my palate. This informed my
appreciation of what makes a fine wine. Jacques and Sylvie Guinaudeau, plus my
friends—including Carlo—organised dinners and blind tastings of Grand Vins…lots
of Bordeaux. I was educating myself, learning the differences between wines
grown on clay-limestone or gravelly soils. I was soon helping with the
vinification, so my learning was rapid.”

The
first vintage that Julie Guinaudeau helped craft was the 2001 Lafleur. I inquired
about the distribution of responsibilities around the wineries. Who does what? 

“We
share a lot of the duties. I am mainly involved in the production, the
viticulture and the vinification—that is where my heart lies. I am in the
winery all year round as the technical director,” she said.

I asked
whether there are as many women on the team as men. “Of course,” she replied,
as if anything else would be untenable. How many other Bordeaux estates could
say the same? 

Aside
from Julie Guinaudeau’s full-time role in running the estate, of course, she
has her own family to look after. “I have three daughters; the oldest, Joséphine,
is 16 years old. She is interested in wine, but at the moment she is not so
interested in tasting wine, whereas the two younger daughters, Mathilde
and Elizabeth, are more interested, even though they are too young. They are often
around the chai. Their favourite part is the remontage [pumping
over] and écoulage &nbsp;[running off
the free-run juice after fermentation]. They started asking questions when they
were six years old, why we were doing this or that. But they’re young and they
have to live their lives first. To make a Grand Vin, you have to be passionate,
and they have to have that.”

For
details about Lafleur’s vineyard and vinification, I refer readers to my 2018
article, <a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/enigma-variations-lafleur-1955-2015-nov-2018">Enigma Variations: Lafleur
1955-2015</a>, or—if
you own an elusive copy—to my book, “Pomerol.” But as a quick reminder, Lafleur
is the 4.5-hectare vineyard adjacent to Petrus, albeit with very different
soils and grape varieties, Lafleur boasts more glacial gravel deposits, with
around half the vineyard planted with Bouchet, the local term for
Cabernet Franc. Quoting Jacques Guinaudeau from my Pomerol book, “You have more
personality and complexity if you make a wine sympathetic to the terroir rather
than making your own wine.” That philosophy rings true 15 years later. 

There were some raised
eyebrows when Jacques and Sylvie Guinaudeau took over Lafleur, as the familial
ties were not immediate. Jacques was the second cousin of Marie and Thérèse
Robin and had run Château Grand Village in Mouillac since 1979, so perhaps some
questioned whether he was up to the task. That was answered by the Guinaudeaus’
maiden vintage, the sublime 1985 Lafleur, following an interregnum when
Christian Moueix and Jean-Claude Berrouet made the wine. The Guinaudeaus rolled
up their sleeves and began reconstituting the vineyard. Around one-quarter
needed to be replaced, since the Robin sisters were never predisposed towards
replanting superannuated vines. Following the passing of Marie Robin in 2001,
the Guinaudeau family was able to buy Lafleur, though they had to relinquish Le
Gay to the late Catherine Père-Vergé to finance the deal.The
WinesLet’s
get down to the nitty-gritty. To assess, contrast and above all enjoy 37
consecutive vintages of such a rare wine from magnums with perfect provenance
was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one that to my knowledge had never been
undertaken. The tasting notes speak for themselves, so I will offer my
takeaways from the event.





Without wishing to state
the bleeding obvious, there is no doubting the quality of Château Lafleur. That
said, Lafleur is not a crowd-pleaser and never has been. It does not kowtow to
fad or fashion because the Guinaudeau family—and for that matter, their
predecessors—have always allowed the vineyard to speak for itself. Perhaps
because of that, Lafleur marches to its own tune.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1756824921008-lafleur+1989+bottle_Vinous.jpg">The
triumvirate of 1988, 1989 and 1990 Lafleur in magnum. I cannot recall ever tasting
all three together.When
Lafleur is firing on all cylinders, it is spectacular. Perhaps the 2000
Lafleur is the apogee and epitomises a wine that future connoisseurs will revere,
like the 1982 Lafleur. My other pick of the “Jacques and Sylvie” era
would be the aforementioned 1985 Lafleur. The pressure must have been
immense. The 1985 had to deliver after the Guinaudeaus had wrested
control of the estate from other interested parties with deeper pockets. To
this day, the 1985 remains a magnificent debut. I place the 1989 above
the 1990 Lafleur. However, in magnum format, the gap between them
is narrower. The 1995 and 1998 Lafleur are standouts from
the nineties, a decade when Lafleur reflects the swings of successive growing
seasons. That is borne out in the more challenging early years of that decade.
One vintage that ought not to be overlooked is the 1999 Lafleur,
unenviably sandwiched between the 1998 and 2000. The 1999 is a
delightful, almost carefree Pomerol that you can drink now whilst waiting for the
1998 and 2000 to reach their peak. From the first decade of the 21st
century, the 2001 and 2005 Lafleur are both stupendous.
One surprise was the quality of the 2008 Lafleur, which I rated
higher than the more feted 2009, a contrarian view given the vintage
reputation. More recently, both the 2010 and 2019 are peaks, but that
decade is a mountain range of summits. Over-performers like the 2012 and
2017 represent some of the best values in the market. 



Lafleur. Needs. Time. More
than any Right Bank wine, Lafleur needs a decade to reach its drinking window,
even in supposedly less-concentrated vintages. This was reaffirmed during this tasting.
Even though, like many of its contemporaries, Lafleur’s tannins are nowadays sculpted
with more finesse and a far cry from the behemoths once unwittingly created by
the Robin sisters, these wines will reward the patient if time is allowed to weave
its magic.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1756824948107-lafleur+lunch+bottles_Vinous.jpg">There
is stylistic consistency irrespective of growing season. Perhaps the only time
a season “defeated” Lafleur in the modern era was 2013. Though as good as you
will find in this nadir vintage, the 2013 Lafleur was the only
wine in this tasting that lacked personality, a Lafleur with a vacant stare. Likewise,
the 1993 Lafleur comes across rather astringent—I have fonder
memories when it was around a decade old. Should the Guinaudeau family have
bottled the entire crop of ’93 or ’13 under Les Pensées as they did in ‘87 and ‘91?
Maybe. Then again, both represent unadulterated translations of their vintages,
and I respect that.

Speaking of the Les
Pensées, the magnum format of the 1987 was so good that I suggested to
Baptiste Guinaudeau that it is worthy of the Grand Vin. It was far better than
the three or four bottles I’d encountered in recent years. One aspect to
remember about Les Pensées is that it was originally conceived as an orthodox second
label. Now, Les Pensées is a de facto separate cuvée born in a delimited part
of the vineyard—the spur of sandier soil that traverses the rows. Julie Guinadueau
mentioned that at harvest, they have to indicate to pickers where that part lies
since the grapes ripen at a different pace.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1756824976163-les+champs+libres_Vinous.jpg">This
tasting included flights of Lafleur’s other wines, including Les Champs Libres,
Les Perrières and Les Pensées. Les Champs Libres is certainly an ageworthy
Sauvignon Blanc, and the highlight was the splendid 2014. I just have reservations
about the 2016, which seems to have a fixed reduction that smothers the
fruit expression. Julie Guinaudeau recalled it was difficult judging the appropriate
amount of SO2 in 2016 due to the smaller volume of fruit. The Les Perrières,
which replaced the “Acte” series, comes from three hectares on limestone soils,
a massal selection of Merlot and Bouchet taken from Lafleur. Les Perrières is
becoming a coveted wine in its own right, certainly a different expression,
more linear and slightly more brittle in texture. What it does share with
Lafleur is a propensity to age. 

Final
Thoughts

This
epic tasting reaffirmed my appreciation for Lafleur and its stablemates that
have established their own identities. It is not the first Lafleur vertical I
have undertaken, but it is the only one that provided an uninterrupted view of
an entire era with the assurance of perfect provenance. More than the wines, the
tasting emphasised the idea of Lafleur as a family-run enterprise. Unlike some
estates, here you never have the sense of one eye watching what others are
doing, peeking over the proverbial garden hedge. Focus is entirely upon what
occurs within their own walls. That engenders a soupçon of solipsism, not in
the negative sense (not least because the Guinaudeaus socialise with neighbours),
but because they chart their own course even if contrary to perceived wisdom. No
shareholders’ expectations. No decision by committee. No outside interference
from interested parties. No intra-family internecine squabbling. 

Almost
on cue, a month after this tasting, the Guinaudeau family issued a press
release on August 25, the crux of which read: “…we have decided to cease
adhering to the appellations
of Pomerol and Bordeaux beginning with the 2025 vintage.” This is a major
decision, one that I am sure was not taken lightly by all concerned. Given my
sentiments in the previous paragraph, I find it unsurprising. Following this
year’s heatwaves, combined with the spectre of global warming, a second press
release confirmed that the family felt they had no choice but to unshackle
themselves from AOC rules to protect vines from accumulating water stress.
Consequently, they reduced canopy height and foliage density and practiced
targeted irrigation on the driest parcels. Having undertaken these actions, the
only option was to forsake AOC status, although the family pointedly stated
that “…the planting of other grape varieties would be a grave mistake.” The
burning question is whether this will set a precedent and others will follow,
or—preferably, I might add—AOC rules will be relaxed.

Returning
to this tasting of the soon-to-be most famous Vin de France in the world, the
biggest takeaway was the vital roles that Sylvie and subsequently Julie
Guinaudeau play. Both have as much “grit under the fingernails” as anyone.

“It's a Man's, Man's, Man's World”
could be applied to the Bordeaux wine industry in 2025, more so than, say,
Burgundy, where there are more women running estates. Today, the message is no
less relevant insofar as many women in successful partnerships frequently fail
to receive their fair dues, and there is less acknowledgement of the crucial
roles they play. Watching the Guinaudeau daughters splash in the lake and,
later, the older ones helping pour the wines impressed upon guests the idea of
a family running a major Bordeaux estate. Assuming that winemaking is in their
DNA, and as Julie Guinaudeau herself mentioned, the daughters follow in their
parents’ footsteps by their own volition, Lafleur will always be enhanced by a
woman’s touch.&nbsp;© 2025, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or redistributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.<hr> You Might Also Enjoy<a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/enigma-variations-lafleur-1955-2015-nov-2018">Enigma Variations: Lafleur 1955-2015</a>, Neal Martin, November 2018<a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/a-century-of-fives-jun-2025">A Century of...Fives</a>, Neal Martin, June 2025<a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/bordeaux-the-crisis-laid-bare-jun-2025">Bordeaux: The Crisis Laid Bare</a>, Neal Martin, June 2025<a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/intellect-senses-bordeaux-with-time-mar-2025">Intellect &amp; Senses: Bordeaux With Time</a>, Neal Martin, March 2025<a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/a-place-beyond-praise-bordeaux-2022-feb-2025">A Place Beyond Praise: Bordeaux 2022</a>, Neal Martin, February 2025<div></div>

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