Cédric, with his hipster heartthrob good looks (sorry girls, he’s married) had just moved into his new winery and cellar in Landreville when Pascaline and I stopped in last year on the way south to Burgundy. He had just separated from sharing winery space with his father just a few kilometers away in Celles-sur-Ource, where he lives and the vines grow. The move was a long time coming, the father and son have a famously difficult relationship. Pére Bouchard couldn’t accept that Cédric had gone organic and had independent ideas: single vineyard, single varietal, and single vintage cuvées. Or perhaps it’s more complicated? Perhaps it was a case of a father not wanting his son to surpass him, because from the beginning, Cédric was a very big deal.
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