Picked before dawn off the north blocks. Green almond, white pepper, a saline finish that lasts longer than it has any right to.

Our slowest block, on the shaded side of the valley. Sour cherry, dried thyme, fine chalky tannin. Give it an hour open.

Four hours on skins, then straight to steel. Redcurrant and blood orange, bone dry. The one we drink at lunch ourselves.

Eleven months in old French oak, stirred twice a week. Quince, toasted hazelnut, a texture closer to cream than to fruit.

From ninety-year-old bush vines that yield almost nothing. Fig, iron, crushed rock. Two hundred and forty bottles made.

A solera started by Mercè in 1987 and topped up every autumn since. Walnut, orange peel, salt. Half-bottles only.