Picardan is one of the thirteen permitted grape varieties in Chateauneuf-du-Pape and one of the least planted. Total global acreage hovers around ten. Most vintners never grow it, most somms never taste it, and most retail shelves do not carry it. The vineyard we work with in Southern California has two acres of it. That is roughly twenty percent of the world's plantings.
Why it almost disappeared
Picardan ripens late, yields modestly, and offers neither the dramatic aromatics of Viognier nor the structure of Roussanne. Through most of the twentieth century it was uprooted in favor of more commercial whites. By the 1990s, plantings in the southern Rhone had collapsed. A handful of producers kept small blocks for blending; almost no one bottled it varietally.
Why our partner planted it
The grower was looking for a white that could handle Southern California's heat without surrendering acidity. Most Rhone whites we tasted were promising, but Picardan was the only one with both the citrus drive and the structural restraint to age in bottle without going flabby. The grower planted the two acres a decade ago. The wine has gotten more interesting every vintage since.
What it tastes like
Lemon pith, white flowers, a small bitter almond note, and an acidity that lingers across the finish. The wine is not flashy. It rewards the second glass and the third. We pour it at a wine-club tasting once a quarter and the same guests who came for the Cabernet generally leave asking after the Picardan.
Why it matters for the club
A wine that lives on ten acres globally is the opposite of the bulk-source story. Our standing rule is that we source only from local Southern California vineyards growing varietals that the chain retailer cannot touch. Picardan is exhibit A. The grower's two acres are the entire wine. There is no second supplier. There is no substitute. The bottle is the field.