Talking To: Le Vignoble - Or, How To Get Into Wine When You Know Nothing
My relationship with wine starts with Penguin Sands. I can’t tell you what it tasted like, but I can tell you it was £3.99 and 11%. My point being, I did not come from a family of sommeliers - and I certainly did not consider myself with trifles such as the taste of the alcohol I was drinking.
However, over time, my priorities shifted. Between being 18 years old and 29, I moved from the goal of “getting fucked up” to hoping to enjoy a nice thin-stemmed glass of Vinho Verde with the girls.
I can even pinpoint the moment - no, the exact wine - responsible for this transition: an Australian Chardonnay from the Yarra Valley that I tried in a wine shop in Melbourne. The event started off quite horrifically upon learning that they had no menus (I couldn’t just look at the wine list and splash out by going for the second cheapest option). Instead, I had to gape like a fish on the deck when the sommelier asked me what wine I liked. Dry or sweet? Lighter or fuller-bodied? Did I like oak? Acidity? But, alas, we all have to start somewhere. And this is where it started for me.
This beautiful little place in Melbourne, with the walls coated in bottles, and their knowledgeable patient staff created a love affair with wine for me. They didn’t laugh at my total lack of vocabulary, instead they let me try things, and gave me words for what I liked. Words like: mineral, complex, savoury. And, oh my god, that Chardonnay. That damn chardonnay. It tasted like nothing on earth - I still think about it years on. They transformed wine from a drink to a hobby for me.
And, for me, that shifted a lot. I had grown up with a family member who suffered with a disordered relationship with alcohol, so learning about the artistry in the industry felt like a reclamation of sorts. I had perceived alcohol as the enemy - something people drink mindlessly - but in teaching me about their passion, they gave me my own relationship with it. And thus, here we are, a Sunday morning, writing a piece about the wine bar and shop, Le Vignoble.
The interior of Le Vignoble
As some of you may know, we are currently taking part in the Visit Bristol food campaign. So before I dive in, I wanted to set out a few facts. The magazine was invited to Le Vignoble as part of this - we did not, and do not, accept any money for such visits. However, we did get very kindly treated to the wine and some dishes. Having said this, there was no obligation for a write-up, or to say anything glowing about Le Vignoble. We also bought wine from our pocket after receiving recommendations. The reason? I just fancied it, and that is because I genuinely like this place. I celebrated my birthday here last year, and also as someone who likes wine but knows about five words when it comes to jargon, I find them a really useful way to learn more about what I do and don’t like.
To explain, the set-up of Le Vignoble is thus: they have a self-service system (like a fancy, much nicer version of when you get your own soda from a fast food chain) where you can independently sample up to 64 different wines from around the world by glass. You can pay for a small taster, a regular glass, or a large pour.
An example of the wine machines
The beauty of this? It means you don’t have to pay an arm and a leg to try something and decide against it, or decide you love it. Wine can be an intimidating hobby to get into. Bottles are expensive, menus are overwhelming, and there is always the lingering fear that you are about to spend £14 on a glass of something you absolutely hate. Here, you can try a tiny amount, decide it tastes like wet gravel or heaven itself, and simply move on with your evening.
It also means I can sample wine that I could never normally afford; a point that Manager, Maja, elaborated on as she explained that last Christmas they had a Bordeaux wine in the machines that cost £600-£700 to purchase, but was there for £8 a glass. You can’t grumble at that, can you?
And more than just the mechanics of how Le Vignoble works, I respect their story and philosophy. Anyone familiar with the magazine will know we tend to champion tiny independents. Le Vignoble sits in a slightly different category: not a tiny one-room neighbourhood wine bar, but also absolutely not a national chain either. Instead, a regional company with two large wine shops/bars.
You can buy the wine bottles also. Here’s a small selection!
The business was founded by Paris-born Yannick Loué (after his time spent working in Michelin-star hospitality) and his partner Elle, and they now operate across Bristol and Plymouth. The wines are hand-selected by Yannick himself, with a focus on family-owned vineyards and smaller producers, and their philosophy centres around “good wine without intimidation”, which is something I can get behind. Elle is also still very heavily involved, and curates the bar’s menus - stocked full of delicious bites to go alongside the wines, such as charcuterie boards and Camembert.
The bar manager, Maja, was kind enough to give us a tour of the wine - answering my numerous questions, breathing new life into the space whilst she did. She brought home the independent spirit of Le Vignoble; it’s easy to walk in and see the size of the space, and the slick machines, especially when you consider it’s set within the corporate feeling alleyways of Finzels Reach, and think it has more “commercial” tones than an indie bar - but it doesn’t.
Maja’s enthusiasm and own story proved that alone - she had actually met Yannick as he taught the wine course, WSET Level 1, back in Plymouth. She had asked if he would be teaching Level 2 after, at which point he then asked if she would prefer a job instead. Her job with Le Vignoble has since taken her to Canada and California growing wine, before becoming manager at the Bristol branch. Her passion and knowledge was genuinely a delight to witness.
The Bristol branch only has seven members of staff, and Yannick was in the corner working all whilst we chatted.
I asked Maja about how the wine is sourced, and whether the mission statement about working with smaller vineyards was true. The answer was resolute: yes. She explained that they are part of a group of 50 wine merchants, who all choose select wines which then become exclusive to that community. The wine you then see in the machines is curated by the team, organised by customer favourites and monthly themes. This month’s themes? Star Wars (May the 4th be with you and all that) and Eurovision: further proof of the light-hearted and playful way they approach wine.
On this topic, I inquired with Maja whether she had any tips on how to “get into” wine when you know nothing. Her answer was simple: “ask the team.” She was also keen to confirm that you don’t need fancy words, just a willingness to try and describe. She also suggested it can be useful to explore specifically within grapes and regions, and recommended the book “Wine Folly” by Justin Hammack.
“I hate it when hospitality uses the word “family”, so I won’t say that” Maja said, “but working here really does feel like a collaborative team project.” The message? Le Vignoble may have the polished feeling that you’ve come to expect from bigger chains, but there is a warm beating heart of teamwork and knowledge at the centre.
Whilst I was there I very joyfully took all of Maja’s suggestions and sampled wines from across the globe, from Reislings to Picpoul de Pinets to Chardonnays. I ate a very garlicky dip, and scoffed warm goat’s cheese with chorizo, and it was truly a beautiful thing.
Example of the charcuterie board
The world of wine can feel inaccessible; peppered with language you don’t understand, big ol’ price tags and a subtle sense that everybody else in the room understands something you don’t. It feels good to go into place where curiosity is encouraged, and experimentation is affordable.
Bristol is lucky to have so many places doing wine their own way. There’s KASK with its fantastic neighbourhood feel and brilliant tasting events; Port O'Bristol serving Portuguese wines with extraordinary warmth and hospitality (in fact, I loved their bottle, Thetis, so much we bought ten cases for the wedding); Carmen Street Wine tucked away in Stokes Croft; and Cotto Wine Bar pairing great bottles with equally good food.
As Maja said, what’s lovely is that they all have their own identity and Le Vignoble certainly has its own place amongst them.
My thoughts? Just go to them all. As Russell from Up! says, adventure is truly out there.
Interviewed and written by the founder of the Everyday Magazine, Jessica Blackwell