Hand-drawn watercolors I began making to learn about the world of wine. Each gallery-quality print is individually numbered and signed, and can be further embellished with unique overdrawn details.
Not seeing your favorite wine region? Want to request a specific vineyard plot or producer highlight on a piece? Curious about ordering multiple prints at once? Get in touch.
Riesling in tall glass bottles, and pinot noir as ripe as California. The Rhine on one hand, rain shadow of the Vosges on the other.
Geology fanned like a deck of cards: metamorphic granites around Colmar, a band of sedimentary limestone running north-south, signature reddish sandstone. Further down, everything the rivers carry.
10×13″ / $85
Last wild river in Europe, and the longest in France, a wildly diverse garden of grape varieties and wine styles split down the middle.
Most importantly, on both sides of the great divide, there is chenin.
14×9″ / $75
Just a long, east-facing limestone escarpment pocked with ravines, forest at its back and an alluvial plain in front, planted mostly to only one grape variety.
11×14″ / $85
Build-Your-Own Côte de Nuits
Some assembly required. Don’t forget the villages without their own AOCs!
7×9″ / $40
In some ways, it’s the end of Burgundy: it runs into the Mâcon, it continues planting chardonnay and gamay.
In others, it’s the beginning of the Rhône: the granite massif, the pepper, the city of Lyon.
It is, of course, really a place unto itself. And one of the places where, depleted by industrial farming, its vines turned into holiday plonk, the French natural wine movement was born. Jules Chauvet, the Gang of Four (really five, or six), glou glou reds: it was all born here.
11×14″ / $85
Its headwaters are in the Alps; it finishes its run in the Mediterranean. Here, in the north, it carves a channel through a granite massif. The slopes plunge. The wind has a name.
The grape is syrah, child of dureza. There’s some white wine, too!
11×14″ / $85
Amphitheater of mountains facing the middle sea.
This isn’t the Languedoc. Your grandmother, if you were born here, would have grown up speaking Catalán. The old vines are the same on both sides of the Pyrenees: muscat and carignan, macabeu and grenache in all colors.
It’s been a long time since the Phoenicians. Cooperatives control most of the region’s production. But a new generation is rising.
10×12″ / $75
Sierra de Gredos
Up mule paths and mountain streams on granite heights west of Madrid hides a treasure trove of old-vine garnacha unlike anywhere else in the world.
They won’t teach you to drink this in school.
10×8″ / $65
Tiny vineyard plots with centuries-old names dedicated to a single noble grape variety on a single, specific soil, producing wines whose expression changes with minute variation in exposure, and vintage, and maker. Lots of monks.
This isn’t Burgundy.
14×10″ / $85
Austria’s southern garden, verdant, heavily forested, famed for its apples and pumpkins. Slovenia sits just to the south. White wine country, sure, but miles away literally and figuratively from the Wachau or the Kremstal.
Instead, there are wines that are verdant themselves: fizzy blauer wildbacher to go with your schnitzel, Central European muskateller and welschriesling, western imports pinot blanc and chardonnay, and some of the most specific and site-expressive sauvignon blanc in the world of wine.
11×11 / $65
Some places, the appellations just do the very worst job. There’s almost no overlap between the farmers tucked up in little foothill river valleys making compelling and often fizzy juice of every color and the legal boundaries drawn down on the plains that decide who gets to be lambrusco.
But still: ham, and balsamic, and wines to go with all of it, from a place, even though it’s a place not on most maps.
10×7″ / $50
An active volcano, and vineyards reshaped by lava flow.
For decades the mainland used it as a bulk wine factory. The British colonized its port for fortified wine when Napoleon locked them out of Iberia.
Will Sicily get to control its own fate?
14×10″ / $75