The Wine That Began as a Painting
Domaine Jean-Louis Chave Ermitage Cuvée Cathelin 1990
- Producer
- Domaine Jean-Louis Chave
- Appellation
- Hermitage AOC
- Grapes
- Syrah
- Tasted
- 3 December 2025
Some wines begin as vineyards; this one began as a painting. Bernard Cathelin, a French painter close to the Chave family, made them a picture — and in 1990 the picture became a label, the painter’s name became a cuvée, and the cuvée became one of the rarest wines in France. This bottle, number 958 of a tiny production, is from that first year. Cathelin has appeared since only when the family judged the year to have something particular to say: 1991, 1995, 1998, 2000, 2003, 2009, 2010, 2015.
The Chaves have been growing vines since 1481 — sixteen generations — moving from Saint-Joseph to Hermitage in the phylloxera years of the late nineteenth century. Where the domaine’s classic Ermitage blends parcels from across the hill, Cathelin leans overwhelmingly on Les Bessards, the granite heart of the slope, and is raised differently too: around eighteen months in entirely new oak. 1990, its debut, is one of the legendary vintages of the northern Rhône.

In the Glass
The cork surrendered in pieces — thirty-five years will do that — but the wine came through untouched. Decanted off its sediment, the colour had held remarkably: mid-depth garnet to ruby, brick just beginning at the rim, transparent and clear.
The nose was an argument in layers. Blackberry and plum still anchoring the center — after three and a half decades — with smoked licorice, pepper and spice above, then black truffle and wet forest floor, a cool streak of menthol and violets, a curl of bacon, and the last soft echo of that new oak as vanilla.

The palate’s first impression was simply density. Full-bodied, massively concentrated, yet lifted by acidity that keeps it from ever settling into heaviness; the tannins have melted completely into a sweet, enveloping texture. The finish carries spice and earth a long way out.

The wine is in a beautiful window now — and, more remarkably, not at the end of one. Even conservative readings give it another decade; generous ones run to mid-century. Two hours in the decanter, and a painting from 1990 was still adding brushstrokes.