The English country pursuit of hunting with horses and hounds may be increasingly archaic, but its spirit springs to life every winter in the form of the equine steeplechase. Part of the British National Hunt racing season, steeplechases have a passionate following, with punters wagering on the breathtaking spectacle of jockeys and their steads scaling, en masse, seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Fences stand at 1.4 metres or more over gruelling courses ranging from two to 4.5 miles (3.2 to 7.2 kilometres).

The National Hunt, or jumps as it is informally known to distinguish it from the flat racing season, also comprises hurdles races, where the obstacles are smaller, and “bumper” races held on flat tracks. Hunters chases – amateur jockeys on horses that have hunted for a least four days prior to the racing season – may open major meetings.

Grand excitement

The United Kingdom’s most popular steeplechase is the Grand National, held at Aintree racecourse every April, but the Cheltenham Gold Cup in March, part of the four-day Cheltenham Festival that features 11 Group One races, comes close in terms of thrills if not perhaps spills. Since 1839, five Grand National champions have romped home at odds of 100-to-one because the favourites fell at such daunting obstacles as The Chair, measuring 1.6 metres and preceded by a 1.83-metre ditch.

A steeplechase was recorded in County Cork, Ireland as early as 1752, with the first race on a prepared track held in Bedford, England in 1810. The name derives from two-horse village races that would begin and end at the church steeple. Irish horses, such as three-time Cheltenham Gold Cup-winner Best Mate, are some of the sport’s best, alongside French-bred champions like Kauto Star, whose British owner took home two Gold Cups.

Dressed for the Downs

In the United States, jumps season falls in spring under the auspices of the National Steeplechase Association. The “Town & Country” set don their finest at turf courses laid out with brush hurdles or timber (solid wooden-rail) fences; the famed Kentucky Downs racecourse was originally built as a steeplechase venue. Spectators enjoy smart tailgate picnics beside their cars before entering the grandstand to cheer on the horses.

It’s a little different in France, where at racetracks like Auteuil jumpers are required to go over small brush fences and through huge hedges called bullfinches. One of Europe’s largest steeplechases is the Velká Pardubická in the Czech Republic, held annually since 1874. Japan claims ownership of one of the richest chases, the rather more youthful Nakayama Grand Jump, where Australian star Karasi won three times on the trot (2005-2007).

Another Australian champion, Crisp, came second to Grand National legend Red Rum at Aintree in 1973, but had his revenge later who the pair tussled at Doncaster. Despite its popularity with the crowds, steeplechase is now barred in all but two Australian states over safety concerns for the fearless horses who jump so high, so fast, for the sake of sport.

Craftsmanship is right up there with horsemanship for lovers of equine sports. The tack room at the stables or polo club, with its neat arrays of gleaming leatherware and metalwork, provides a fascinating glimpse into riding’s extensive accoutrements, and the care that goes into their making.

Each well-groomed, well-dressed horse requires quality tack fitted to the discipline in which it is competing. Apart from the seat itself, master saddlers will craft leather bridles, halters and reins, and often the saddle pads that protect the horse’s back. The bit and stirrups combine leather and stainless steel, though lighter, high-tech materials are also commonly used nowadays.

Lap of luxury

French luxury brand Hermès began as a leather harness maker in 1837, and once employed 80 master saddlers to supply the Russian tsar. It still makes saddles for jumping, dressage and polo, and an equestrian accessory range. Acclaimed French saddler Frédéric Butet once made one of gold, though he is best known for custom-made saddles of supreme vegetable tanned leather, each requiring 27 hours of handcrafting. The most expensive saddle ever sold (US$653,234 for charity) belonged to Sheikh Dubai Crown Prince Hamdan bin Mohammed Al Maktoum, scion of the Godolphin racing family.

Ancient craft

The first saddles, said to be used by the Assyrian cavalry in 700 BC, were cloth pads held in place by makeshift girths. They became more structured with bases (called trees) of wood covered by leather. There are two styles, English and stock, with the latter including the American western saddle in which the seat is fronted by a horn-topped pommel (useful when roping steer). In England, saddlery is one of few medieval craft guilds surviving in the present day, with the majority of craftsmen located in the West Midlands town of Walsall.

Quality German saddlers, such as Kieffer and Passier, arose to challenge the British might in the late 19th century. Passier now crafts equine leather lines with Olympic equestrians Marcus Ehning and Ingrid Klimke, and has teamed up with crystal-maker Swarovski for those who seek a little extra sparkle in the saddle.

Seat selection

Dressage saddles feature straight flaps and a seat designed to maintain the rider’s upright stance. Jumping saddles have a slightly forward seat position, bigger flaps for leg support and contain more padding. The short-stirrup design of racing saddles allows the jockey to maintain a high squat, seemingly floating above his or her mount. Synthetics replace leather and trees are unbreakable nylon or carbon-fibre in the lightest saddles that weigh in at about two pounds (900 grams).

Polo players need to ride in the half seat (or polo seat) position in order to pivot, turn and strike the ball. Outside of Europe, top choices include Navarro of Argentina’s latex rubber-seated saddles, and the top-of-the-line craftsmanship of New Zealander Ross Ainsley.

Boot master

When the finest leather is on the other foot, the best-shod equestrians visit Casa Fagliano, the Italian bootmakers resident in Hurlingham, Buenos Aires, since 1892. Whether sleek Spanish-cut riding boots, or English-style with lace-up front, the family crafts just one supple pair by hand at a time.

Cheering your horse to victory at a storied racecourse is a thrill that no amount of money can guarantee – though if you invest in the best bloodstock, hire a top trainer and jockey, and pay the often hefty race entry fee, then the odds are in your favour. Connections who do raise the silverware after a famous race can smile all the way to the bank. The winner’s purse may be millions of US dollars.

Arabian might

The world’s richest race is the Dubai World Cup, held on the dirt track at Meydan in the United Arab Emirates in March. The 2019 champion, Thunder Snow, earned US$7.2 million for owner – and Dubai ruler – Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum of Godolphin. The race’s world-beating total purse of US$12 million is soon to be surpassed, however. Prince Bandar bin Khalid Al Faisal will stage the inaugural Saudi Cup in Riyadh in February 2020 and promises prize money of US$20 million.

America can boast of once having the highest-earning race. The Pegasus Cup, held in January in Florida, paid out US$12 million in prize money in its first year (2017) and US$16 million in 2018. However, the 2019 addition of a second showpiece, the Pegasus World Cup Turf Invitational, now divides the spoils – US$9 million for the dirt-track race, and US$7 million for the race on grass.

Australian glamour

Another newcomer to the racing calendar, The Everest, peaks as the world’s richest race on turf. In a bout of Australian gamesmanship, it is held at Sydney’s Royal Randwick track in October, a month before the Melbourne Cup, and trumps the latter’s purse (in 2019, A$14 million to A$8 million). Local hero Redzel has won both Everest starts, with Chinese billionaire Zhang Yuesheng footing the A$600,000 entry fee (in return for part of the winnings) in 2018 so the champion could defend his title.

For more than 150 years, Europe’s best three-year-olds have vied for top honours at the Prix de L'Arc de Triomphe, and a share of the purse, currently valued at US$5.6 million. Enable, owned by Saudi Prince Khalid bin Abdullah of Juddmonte Farms, triumphed in 2017 and 2018, and also earned US$2.2 million by winning the 2018 Breeders’ Cup Turf in the US. The Breeders' Cup Classic, open to international dirt-track champions, pays out a total of US$6 million, compared to the Kentucky Derby’s US$3 million purse.

Down in the jumps

Britain’s most lucrative flat race is the Epsom Derby, where the triumphant connections pocket about £920,000 (US$1 million). The Grand National steeplechase reserves just over half of its £1 million (US$1.28 million) total purse to the winner. Jumps generally pay less than flat races; the purse for Japan’s Nakayama Grand Jump is about US$1.2 million, while the Japan Cup sprint on dirt is worth US$5.8 million.

Among today’s top equine money-makers, Thunder Snow has bagged US$16.5 million, and recently retired Australian champion Winx amassed over US$17.5 million. Yet, even the most successful owners can let a millionaire stead slip through their fingers. Godolphin acquired two-time Grand National winner Tiger Roll as a foal but sold him for a paltry £10,000 before he ran a single race.

If  horse racing is the sport of kings, then polo appeals to the world’s princes, whether actual royalty or the moneyed, athletic titans of industry. Its origins can be traced back to ancient Persia (purportedly to the sixth century BC) and it is now making great strides at elite schools, colleges and clubs from the UK and the US to Argentina, India and China. Liao dynasty Emperor Abaoji (872-926) was a devotee, reportedly beheading surviving players of a ferocious match that caused the death of his relative.

Patrons, players, ponies

While polo has long been called a rich man’s pastime, Corinne Ricard has smashed her mallet through the glass ceiling, as a team owner and the only woman with a top-ranked 10 handicap. Patrons assemble and support professional teams of four players and a stable of thoroughbred ponies (players often use six or more mounts per match).

The most famous modern-day foursome, La Dolfina, was founded by heavy-hitting Argentinian Adolfo Cambiaso in 2000; other top teams include the late Thai tycoon Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha’s King Power Foxes, and Ali Albwardy’s Dubai. Most feature one or more high-scoring Argentinian, or “hired assassin” in polo lingo since that nationality dominates the 10-handicap player list. The best ponies are bred in Argentina too, and are not, as the name might suggest, smaller than the standard horse, just supremely agile.

Passport to the world

Sir Winston Churchill opined that a polo handicap is a passport to the world, and today this is truer than ever. The season stretches from May to September on the green fields of Cowdray Park, Sussex, and Windsor in England, where celebrity spectators sip Champagne in marquees emblazoned with the names of luxury sponsors such as Cartier and Jaeger LeCoultre, and tread the divots at half time. When Meghan Markle publicly supported Prince Harry’s polo prowess from the Royal Box at Coworth Park, Ascot, in 2017, the media speculated correctly that the couple would soon be hearing bells other than those that signal the end of each seven-minute chukka.

Gentility on the sidelines in the English summer gives way to the noisy stadiums of Buenos Aires in the ‘ber’ months, where crowds swell to 30,000-plus for the high-goal encounters. Then, after Christmas, the action moves to Palm Beach, Florida, and even snowy St Moritz, where special shoes allow horses to navigate the icy conditions. Uniquely, the Tianjin Goldin Metropolitan Polo Club in northern China hosts the Snow Polo World Cup in winter, and grass tournaments in summer. UK and US university teams face off at the Metropolitan Intervarsity Polo Challenge every year, aiming to shoot straight to the pinnacle of a sport where social standing and position, on and off the field, have always mattered.

The most thorough demonstration of equine sporting excellence occurs in eventing, when dressage, cross-country and jumping competitions test the skill and mettle of horse and rider over three days. Horse racing may grab the sports-page headlines with its thrilling speed and rich purses, but for displays of strength, suppleness, fearlessness and poise equestrianism reigns supreme. And 2018 world champions Isabell Werth on Weihegold (dressage), Simone Blum on DPS Alice (jumping), and Rosalind Canter on Allstar B (eventing), while not household names, clearly signal that it is one of few sports in which men and women compete on equal terms.

Jumping

Equestrianism encompasses other disciples – governing body Fédération Equestre Internationale (FEI) has world rankings for driving, reining and vaulting as well as dressage, endurance and jumping. It is the latter that enjoys the most public recognition. Famous pairings over the decades, including David Broome on Beethoven, John Whitaker on Milton, and Eric Lamaze on Hickstead – the 2008 Olympic champion when Hong Kong hosted the equestrian sports – give show jumping a dignified air. Brand sponsorship helps to secure television coverage, though the excitement of sinewy steeds chasing the clock for a clear round in a tight ring packed with up to 20 daunting fences should not be underestimated.

Longines has put its name to the FEI Jumping World Cup since 2013, as well as its qualifying leagues in Western Europe, North America and China. The north field at Tianjin Goldin Metropolitan Polo Club has doubled as a show jumping venue for the three-city Longines FEI Jumping World Cup China League since 2018.

Galloping

Grounded in the middle of modern eventing is the cross-country day, a stern endurance test of the horse’s physique. At Badminton Horse Trials in England, considered the most prestigious on the world eventing calendar, the four-mile course presents 45 ‘jumping efforts’, from solid manmade obstacles to streams. Penalty points are accrued for straying beyond the optimum finishing time, with elimination facing those who exceed the time limit and riders who tumble off their mounts.

Prancing

In eventing, the same horse who scales fences and leaps ditches must also exhibit an elegant gentility. Dressage is a pursuit for the purists, with both horse and rider immaculately presented and moving as one. Tasked to perform a sequence of prescribed movements, the animal is judged for the likes of rhythm and precision, and the human for seat and balance.

Balletic-sounding names of some movements (piaffe, passage, pirouette) nod to the artistry of a test that, rather ironically, harks back to the military – cavalry training for the battlefield. Images of the Spanish Riding School’s beautiful white Lipizzaner horses prancing in Vienna’s Hofburg Palace capture the appeal of classical dressage, which evolved into one of today’s most exquisite Olympic sports.

Few sports combine thrilling speed, athletic beauty and tradition as perfectly as horse racing. Europe’s premier flat race meeting, Royal Ascot, held every June just six miles from Windsor Castle in Berkshire, England, is a spectacle of style (the hats), sophistication (wining and dining in the Royal Enclosure) and pageantry (Queen Elizabeth’s carriage procession) – and that is all before each graceful paddock parade gives way to swift power on the track.

Sponsored for the past five years by Gigaset, Goldin Group’s telecommunications arm, Ascot racecourse stages more than a third of Britain’s annual Group One races. It dates back to 1711, around the era of the three English-owned stallions to which all modern thoroughbred racehorses can be traced.

Breeding success

One of the trio, the Godolphin Arabian, lives on in spirit at Dubai-headquartered Godolphin Racing, founded in 1992 by Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Prime Minister of the United Arab Emirates and ruler of Dubai. Today, Godolphin ranks among the world’s best racing stables, with 1,000 horses under its care in six countries where flat racing excels – Australia, France, Ireland, Japan, the UK and the US (horse racing-mad Hong Kong is a notable exception). The Sheikh’s global breeding operation, Darley, which began a decade earlier in Newmarket, England, shelters many prized studs including Dubawi, the only British stallion to sire 100 Group winners.

Also in the race for top breeder: John Magnier’s Coolmore Stud in Ireland, Kentucky and New South Wales; and Zayat Stables in New Jersey, owned by Ahmed Zayat, whose dirt-track star American Pharoah clinched the US Triple Crown (Kentucky Derby, Preakness Stakes, Belmont Stakes) and the prestigious season-ender, Breeders’ Cup Classic, in 2015. An Australian success story, Lindsay Park Stud, the former home of two-time Melbourne Cup-winning trainer Colin Hayes, was acquired by Goldin Group in 2013. It now operates as Goldin Farms, with 2013 Hong Kong Cup and Hong Kong Derby champion Akeed Mofeed – a son of Dubawi – as its founder stallion.

Riding fast

The UK Triple Crown (2,000 Guinea Stakes, The Derby, St Leger Stakes) has proved a tougher nut for three-year-olds to crack than the American triumvirate; the last horse to win all three races, back in 1970, was Lester Piggott astride Nijinsky (1970). Frankie Dettori, who slipped into Piggott’s saddle as flat racing’s top jockey, recently scored double victories with Enable at Paris’ classic 2,400-metre gallop, Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe (in 2017 and 2018), and Stradivarius at Royal Ascot’s 4,014-metre Gold Cup (2018 and 2019). The latter also nabbed the Goodwood Cup and Lonsdale Cup in 2018 to complete the Stayers’ Triple Crown for long-distance races; both horses are trained by John Gosden at Newmarket.

Jumping high

Perhaps the UK’s most famous horse race, though, is held not at a picturesque countryside track in summer, but in chilly April over “jumps” at Aintree, Liverpool. The Grand National is the highlight of the National Hunt steeplechase season, and up to 40 horses scale 16 different fences as high as 1.57 metres, plus plenty of ditches, over a distance of almost seven kilometres. Having won two on the trot, 2019 champion Tiger Roll is edging close to the legendary Red Rum’s epic trio (and two second places) in the 1970s.

Terroir has become the winemakers’ buzzword – a means to highlight the complexity of their practice and the individuality of their product. First used in France, and rooted in the earth or land, terroir is the total natural environment of a viticulture site: how the soil, topography, microclimate, flora, and important to the French, tradition of the vineyard influence the characteristics of its grapes and wine. It is, in essence, the soul of the wine.

From the earth

Terroir is not a new idea, of course; winemakers have lived with it on the land every day for centuries. Soil type, and its irrigation, is key. Clay, which keeps its cool and water, generally produces muscular, cultured wines – think Burgundy, Rioja and Tuscany. Sand retains heat and drains well for lighter, aromatic wines (German Rieslings, Cabernet Sauvignons of the northern Médoc), while silt yields smooth, less acidic wines, such as the Pinot Noirs that spring from Oregon’s silt-clay soils. Without rigorous pruning, fertile loam will produce poor grapes, since the vine expends more energy on growing foliage than fruit.

Lay of the land

Soil depth similarly affects fruit quality, with shallower earth on the hillside trumping the deeper layer of the valley floor. High altitudes elevate wine, literally – see the prized Malbecs from the Uco Valley in Mendoza, Argentina, 4,000 feet (1,220 metres) above sea level. The aspect (slope and direction) of the vineyard affect the microclimate. For instance, grapes that can bask in the sun for longer on south- or southwest-facing slopes generally yield the best wines in cool climates. Proximity to the ocean or water can also temper the vines, as do the plants and microbes that share, and shape, their ecosystem.

In the early 1980s, Bruno Prats of Bordeaux Château Cos d’Estournel opined that “sun, slope climate and exposure to the elements” encompass the “goût de terroir” (the taste of terroir). When Domaine de la Romanée-Conti’s Aubert de Villaine spoke of “the miracle” of Burgundy’s perfect ecosystem, he spotlighted drainage, pedology (study of soil), soil depth, microbiological activity and “the way the air moves”.

The weight of history

French agriculture officials were probably more prosaic when determining the 1937 Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée system. Based essentially on terroir, it established a patchwork of more than 300 wine appellations, or regions, producing different styles of wine. In Bordeaux, Château Le Bon Pasteur exhibits the softness, depth and complexity of its Pomerol appellation, while sister châteaux, Roland-Maillet and Bertineau Saint-Vincent, that lie nearby in Saint-Émilion and Lalande-de-Pomerol have powerful, robust, red-fruit, and generous, fruity, spicy wines respectively.

Burgundy’s 100 appellations are further classified into grand crus, premier crus, villages and regions. While sharing characteristics with their neighbours across the field, these tiny plots, or climats – identified for centuries for their specific geological and microclimatic conditions – each have a uniqueness. It is here that winemaking heritage, or the accrued knowledge of the human who interacts with the land, vine and grape, most clearly comes into play.

Today, winemakers all over the world are mindful that what they bottle is a full and discernible expression of their terroir. And while the concept still has its agnostics, this sense of place enriches the experience for aficionados, folding a knowledge of geography, pedology and botany into the conversation as they taste the terroir in their glass.

Critically acclaimed, rarely available and thus extraordinarily priced, cult wines are the upstart treasures of the collector’s cellar, bestowing bragging rights and the potential of either spectacular drinking or reselling for a huge profit.

Although the Old World does have its superstar rarities, including Bordeaux’s Château Le Pin (producing only about 600 cases per year) and Dominio de Pingus (500 cases) in Spain’s Ribera del Duero, cult wines were first “discovered” in the New World. The term was coined by American wine critics like Robert Parker for the big, bold, small-production Cabernet Sauvignons of Napa Valley.

Napa power

Screaming Eagle is the cult leader, almost secretively (few are granted a visit) producing 500 to 800 cases per year on the red volcanic soils of eastern Oakville. Since the 99-point Parker rating of its 1992 vintage, the estate now owned by Arsenal FC and LA Rams sports magnate Stan Kroenke has never looked back, with a lengthy waiting list of buyers and a price tag that can soar well above US$2,500 per bottle.

Other Napa names commanding cult status include Harlan Estate – which famously sold a 10-year vertical of magnums for US$700,000 at the 2000 Napa wine auction – Bryant Family Vineyards, Dalla Valle Vineyards and Schrader Cellars, which is said to have more than 7,000 eager fans on its waiting list. The credentials of SLOAN ESTATE, founded in 2000 in the eastern Rutherford hills and acquired by Goldin Group in 2011, were set with a 100-point rating by Parker for the 2002 vintage; the 2007 and 2015 also garnered perfect scores.

Out of the valley

The most unusual Californian cult wine is Santa Barbara’s Sine Qua Non, where the variety (Syrah, Grenache-based or even a Rhône-style white) and the bottle artwork (by daredevil owner Manfred Krankl) differ every year. Elsewhere on the US West Coast, the Pinot Noirs of Oregon (such as Beaux Fréres) and Cabernet Sauvignons of Washington (Leonetti Cellars, Quilceda Creek) hover on the cult-wine cusp.

Southern stars

Collectors are now looking to the Southern Hemisphere to discover exceptional wines. In Australia, Penfolds boasts high quality (try, if you can, the Hermitage Grange Bin 95 or 60A) and high price – its special-edition Ampoule collection of Block 42 Kalimna Cabernet Sauvignon was released in 2012 at US$168,000 per bottle – yet it is hardly a small producer like the American estates. The Shiraz of young boutique wineries Dalwhinnie and Mollydooker have caught the eye.

Argentinian Malbec by Catena Zapata can sell for more than US$1,000 per bottle; Viña Cobos and Achaval Ferrer are also among the country’s iconic producers. In Chile, visionaries include Eduardo Chadwick’s Viñedo Chadwick and Norwegian billionaire Alexander Vik’s Viña Vik, and Alheit and The Sadie Family are hailed in South Africa.

Joining the cult

While the word cult still fits best in California, a maverick French producer is giving the Americans a run for their money. Loïc Pasquet crafts Liber Pater in tiny numbers from rare Bordeaux varieties in Graves, with the 2015 red to be the world’s most expensive wine upon its September 2019 limited release at 30,000 euros per bottle.

In France, the word for winemaker (vigneron) is more precisely translated as winegrower, an apt reflection, perhaps, of months spent in the fields tending the vines compared to days in the cellar blending the wine. Viticulture requires constant vigilance, from pruning in winter to bud break in spring, then flowering and fruit set in early summer, and the late summer week of ripening.

Harvest time

The autumn harvest is the busiest period outdoors; the culmination of a year of labour and the focus of much local fanfare as pickers move among the vines. Grapes for sparkling wine are picked early, before the berries become too sweet. Estates growing white varietals usually move to harvest before those producing red wine, and the fruit for full-bodied reds is picked last; Pinot Noir and Sauvignon Blanc grapes, for instance, generally ripen weeks before Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon. The grapes of late-harvest wines – sweet and dessert wines – enjoy a prolonged sugar boost as they dehydrate naturally on the vine.

Timing is key – and winemakers use instinct and experience to determine when to begin. There is a short window for offloading grapes at the peak of ripeness, when sugar and acidity levels are balanced (what winemakers call physiological maturity), and phenolic (tannin) levels and aromas match the estate’s winemaking profile. Pickers must work quickly but fastidiously to preserve the integrity of the fruit. Time spent in the fields depends on the size of the vineyard, the numbers of varietals planted, and if all the rows reach maturity in splendid synchrony. It could be a fortnight or five weeks.

Man versus machine

Many top estates decided not to jump on the mechanical bandwagon that has swept through the world’s vineyards since the 1960s. While speedier than man, mechanical harvesters are less fruit friendly or terroir aware; they struggle on small plots, steep slopes, and with old vines planted close together. The more delicate grapes, such as thin-skinned Pinot Noir and Grenache, need special care, and for Champagne houses and top Burgundian domaines, tradition dictates that the grapes must be picked by hand.

Weathering the storms

Growers are at the mercy of the weather, and many a prayer will be said for it not to rain during harvest season. Cool, dry nights, and sunny but not scorching days are ideal. In warmer climes, such as Napa Valley, picking is often done at night, and the fruit stored in refrigerated trucks until it reaches the cellar. Favourable weather is crucial year-round, with too much or too little moisture, and unseasonal heat or cold, disturbing the vine’s natural cycle. A devastating late April frost, which wiped out the premature grape buds of an unusually early spring, caused harvest yields to plummet by 40% in Bordeaux in 2017.

Green harvest

From irrigation to intervention, growers do have some tricks up their sleeve to keep the vine cycle on course. In effeuillage, or leaf stripping, the plant’s lower leaves are removed to maximise ripening grapes’ time in the sun. Green harvesting – the removal of excess or low-quality grape clusters before veraison (onset of ripening) – takes vine manipulation a stage further; with fewer grapes on the vine, nutrients are more plentiful and flavours more concentrated, resulting in a lower yield but higher quality wine. Michel Rolland introduced these viticultural techniques at his Bordeaux property, Château Le Bon Pasteur, in the 1980s, earning international attention for his oenological savvy.

Wine aficionados look primarily at terroir – the intricated interactions among soil, aspect, elevation, microclimate and grape variety – and the skilled hand guiding each stage of the production process, to account for the aroma, texture and taste of the cherished liquid they swish around in their glass. Yet there is another key element that gives wine its character: the oak it lies in prior to bottling. Winemaking, of course, varies from region to region, and from red to white to sparkling, but for some length of time a fine wine will mature in barrel, with French or American white oak being the wood of choice.

A matter of taste

Wooden barrels have been used to store and transport wine since Roman times, when picking up a tip from the beer-drinking Gauls the conquering armies discarded their ceramic vessels. It is only in the modern age, however, that oak’s ability to enhance wine has been fully understood.

Scientifically, oak allows slow influx of oxygen and encourages metabolic reaction. Naturally, aroma compounds found in the wood – the likes of vanilla, spice, clove, coconut, smoky notes – and triggered by specific crafting methods at the cooperage, seep into wine as it ages for one, two or more years, depending on the house style and region. Moreover, a recent steer away from large stainless steel vats to a more holistic and intimate style of winemaking has seen small oak ‘barriques’ utilised not just for optimal maturation but for smoother and more fruitful fermentation too.

French or American

Two species of white oak are most favoured for barrels; the fine-grained European oak is judged to augment subtler wines compared to the bolder, more structured wines that might mature more quickly in oak grown in the USA. French oak is most prized, and the forest it hails from (tannin-rich Limousin or spicier Allier, for instance) also impacts the wood, and thus the wine.

French coopers typically hand-split the oak into staves, season (or dry to soften) it naturally outdoors for months, then toast the staves over an open fire until they are sufficiently pliant to bend and ring with iron. Lighter toasting results in more oak, vanilla and tannins; heavy-toasted barrels are treasured for the rich coffee and caramel aromas they bring to the wine.

Old or new

The high prices of French oak barrels are a reflection of their quality and labour-intensive craftsmanship by hand. Many wineries will reuse them, but elite producers, including Goldin Group’s SLOAN ESTATE in Napa Valley and Pomerol property, Château Le Bon Pasteur, will not skimp on new French oak for each vintage. Brand-new barrels allow more precise winemaking and more intense flavours, translating to greater complexity in the glass.

Winemakers today hold degrees in chemistry or oenology, but science alone does not make a superlative wine. Skill, instinct, experience, a discerning palate and perhaps an artist’s soul are required to guide the fruit from barrel to bottle. Winemaking is often called an art, and artful blending provides its signature flourish.

Coveted reds show depth and complexity that can rarely be attributed to a single type of grape or parcel of land. Blending fermented juices from different varietals and plots imparts nuanced aromas and flavours for the finest expression of terroir and house style. Clarets may combine the likes of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec and Petit Verdot grapes; Rhône Valley blends can juggle up to 15 varietals. Many of Napa Valley’s famous reds are Cabernet Sauvignon blends.

Tasting

Even in Burgundy, where the red is 100% Pinot Noir, winemakers will sample myriad combinations – from lots picked at varying degrees of ripeness, and different crus (villages) or corners of the vineyard – until they encounter the most powerful blend. With intuitive genius, they know how much press wine (pressed and fermented grape skins) to add for structure, and how their chosen blend will develop after further ageing, before and after bottling.

Timing

Winemakers pick and choose their grapes, and the time and frequency they blend them. There could be four tasting sessions (or many more): a first tasting of all available lots in barrel after malolactic fermentation; a second, six to eight months after harvest; and a pre-blend before the new harvest that evolves into the final blend after further tweaking. Very often, an outside expert is hired to conduct the blending process, improvising and fine-tuning the resident winemaking team’s composition, if not writing the music.

Globetrotting oenologist Michel Rolland, the consultant at Goldin Group’s wineries in Bordeaux and Napa Valley, orchestrates a slow, deliberate iteration, the final blend achieved in 18 to 28 months from multiple small batches selected and combined with exquisite care. Since critics arrive en masse to rate the vintage en primeur each spring, Bordeaux châteaux may finish blending much earlier, within six to seven months of harvest, so wine presented in barrel bears close proximation to its final taste.

Sparkling

Master blenders have a less pivotal role in white wine given the prevalence of single varietals, though classic Bordeaux blancs blend Sauvignon Blanc and Sémillon, often with a little Muscadelle in the mix. Red and white can come together – not in rosés, which are nurtured from red grapes with only a touch of skin – but in the Côte-Rôtie, for instance, where red Syrah and white Viognier may even be co-fermented, and of course in Champagne – traditionally a proportion of Pinot Noir (red, for strength), Chardonnay (white, elegance) and Pinot Meunier (red, dependability). Except for their vintage Champagnes, the Champenoise blend grapes not only of different varietals and vineyards but also years to achieve a consistent house style synonymous with luxury.

Winemakers have a natural affinity for the land they live and work on, the vines they tend year-round, and the grapes that they nurture, like children, to become the best possible expressions of themselves and the terroir. It is no wonder then that many have embraced the cry for a greener, artisanal lifestyle. In viticulture terms, that means hands-on rather than mechanical, organic rather than chemical, pure not adulterated. As for the wine itself, researchers found that American wines from 1998 to 2004 labelled “ecocertified” were rated on average 4.1 points higher than non-organic wines by trusted reviewers. Prepare to enjoy a fresher, wild-flower, fruitier vitality.

Chemical ban

Government regulation criteria vary, but wines are certified as “organic” or, to a lesser degree, made from “organically grown grapes”. Soil is enriched with natural compost and minerals since synthetic pesticides, herbicides, fungicides and fertilisers are prohibited; the stricter certification also forbids winemakers, during fermentation, to add more sulphites to counteract oxidation and unwanted bacteria than the small amount of sulphur dioxide that occurs naturally.

Biodynamic winemakers elevate organic cultivation onto a higher plane, believing in a harmonic interconnection between all living things in the universe. Certification comes from Demeter, a regulatory body adhering to Austrian philosopher Rudolf Steiner’s 1920s theory of biodynamic agriculture rooted in spiritual science; or by Biodyvin, an association of 148 primarily French biodynamic wine growers. More than 600 wineries held Demeter certification in 2018.

Cycles of the moon

The biodynamic vineyard operates as a self-sustaining and regenerative ecosystem, with cultivated plants growing as they would in the wild. Livestock provides manure for compost – manure-filled cow horns buried in winter are dug up in spring, their contents diluted with water to spray the fields. Herbal sprays of nettle or dandelion are also utilised. Celestial and terrestrial forces intertwine: the lunar calendar drives pruning (Root days), watering (Leaf days) and harvesting (Fruit days); on Flower days, when the moon is in Aquarius, Libra or Gemini, the vineyards are left alone. Vinification rules are stricter than for organic growers: fewer additives and only natural yeasts.

A newer trend by small artisanal producers is for natural wines, which are organic but not necessarily biodynamic. Here, wines are spontaneously fermented using only yeast present in the grapes or the vineyard, have no added sulphite preservative, and are unfiltered.

The vast majority of organic and biodynamic vineyards (316,000 hectares in 2017, equating to 4.5% of the winemaking total) are in Europe, specifically Spain, France and Italy. Yields are relatively lower than in conventional winemaking, but this, and the richer soil, leads to a more concentrated grape, and arguably a more aromatic and intense expression of terroir.

While many wine-lovers would not want their favourite Cabernet Sauvignon or Chardonnay to change – apart from developing greater complexity in the bottle – the feel-good factor and vibrancy of organic and biodynamic wines make them a non-guilty pleasure.

The “diamonds” of the culinary world are not bright and shiny, but rough, knobbly and extremely pungent – in a good way. It is the musky scent of the fruiting body of the subterranean ascomycete fungus, or truffle, that has dogs and pigs sniffing them out in dank soil and gourmets rushing to the fine-dining table whenever they are in season.

With today’s top restaurants able to provide jet-fresh produce, it is rare when these extravagant black or white delicacies are not available somewhere in the world. Speed is of the essence, though; truffles lose a little aroma, flavour and weight every day after being plucked from the ground under oak or hazelnut trees.

Black and white magic

The most precious, the Alba white truffles of Piedmont, Italy (tuber magnatum pico), are harvested from October to December. Black truffles, however, can be savoured almost year-round. The softer aromas of Burgundian truffles are available in summer and early autumn, while the most valuable “black diamonds”, Périgord winter truffles (tuber melanosporum), are unearthed in western and southern France from November to March. A special mass is held for the truffle at Uzès cathedral in Languedoc every January.

Summer cravings for Périgord truffle shavings can be satisfied too. The variety first emerged from the fertile soil of northern Tasmania in 1999. Australia is now the fourth-largest supplier of quality French black truffles, and Manjimup in Western Australia the country’s tuber heartland.

Grated glory

The intoxicating bouquet and taste of truffle – earthy, nutty, mushroomy, garlicky, buttery – are most often enjoyed as a raw garnish for simple dishes like eggs and pasta. Restaurant Bruno in Lorgues, Provence, where gourmets helicopter in for lunch, devotes four tasting menus to truffles, and its signature is a not so humble potato baked in the oven with white truffle and served with shavings of black truffle.

Wolfgang Puck at Hotel Bel-Air in Los Angeles has offered white truffle at breakfast over eggs, bacon and pancakes; the 2018 white truffle menu at 45 Jermyn St in London concluded with truffle atop malt ice cream and drizzled honey. Edward Voon at LE PAN in Hong Kong prepares extra dishes that can be added to his tasting menus, such as scrambled eggs or risotto, morel and porcini cream, ready for the fresh truffle of the season to be shaved over them at the table.

Auction indulgence

Such gastronomic pleasures come at a price, particularly for those who demand the delicate Alba white truffle. Plentiful summer rain scored a rare bumper crop in the Piedmont woods in 2018, so prices of 250-350 euros per 100 grams charged by truffle brokers were half those of the previous year. Large nuggets of superior form (dense and firm with few holes) will be auctioned. In November 2018, a generous Hong Kong buyer (it was for charity) paid 85,000 euros (US$96,000) for an exceptional 850-gram white truffle.

Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last shah of Iran, is said to have served 150 kilograms of caviar to dignitaries over three days of extravagant banqueting in 1971. Given the depleted stocks of sturgeon in the Caspian Sea today, this leaves a bad taste in the mouth – though not literally, of course. The sublime, smooth, salty tang of caviar, and the rarity of its best examples, render it as a gastronomic delicacy of the highest order. As a status symbol of the fine-dining table, caviar will often feature on a dedicated menu; at the Petrossian restaurant in Paris, six types of raw roe are available, with a 30-gram serving of beluga costing 294 euros (US$323).

Beluga brilliance

Since caviar is salt-cured sturgeon roe, it was the spawning female of the species that brought home the money to Iranian and Russian fishermen on the Caspian shores. Of the three prized breeds native to these clean, deep waters – Huso huso (beluga), Acipenser gueldenstaaedt (oscietra) and Acipenser stellatus (sevruga) – beluga tops the scales in terms of size and quality. With a life span of up to a century and reaching 30 feet in length, the fish yields the largest, creamiest eggs. They are graded for size, form (round or slightly elongated, firm, moist, easily separated) and colour (a light pearly grey, or 000, ranks highest). Species, source, country of origin and year of harvest are noted on caviar tin labels.

The rarest beluga, Almas, has a golden glow. Coming from albino fish, the roe is listed by Guinness World Records as the most expensive caviar, and the most expensive food. Second to beluga, oscietra (or Russian sturgeon) has a buttery, nutty appeal, while sevruga roe is stronger and saltier.

Salted luxury

Salt and age give the initially rather insipid sturgeon roe its extraordinary presence. After harvesting and rinsing, eggs are salted and sealed in tins and, like wine, left to mature with occasional turning for a few months or a year or more. Caviar should be consumed chilled, presented in a bowl or the tin on a bed of ice. Insiders eat it off their naked back-of-hand, but using a mother-of-pearl spoon may be less startling in public. Slivers of plain toast, blini (buckwheat pancake), cooked potato or grains make good accompaniments, as well as vodka and dry Champagne.

China quality

Since overfishing has all but wiped out wild sturgeon, the fish are now raised in aquafarms from northern California to Italy, Israel, Japan and China. The latter proudly has the world’s largest caviar company, producing the quality Kaluga Queen brand from sturgeon in Qiandao Lake in Zhejiang province. This hybrid of the freshwater kaluga (Huso dauricus) and the Japanese amur (Acipenser schrenckii) is savoured at three-Michelin-starred restaurants in Paris.

At Le Comptoir de Pierre Gagnaire in Shanghai, Kaluga’s product graces slow-poached egg and potato salad, while at LE PAN in Hong Kong, Kristal caviar by Parisian caviar house Kaviari provides a delicious salty top note to hamachi.

From its spiritual home of Shunde in the Pearl River Delta, the subtle tastes of Cantonese cuisine have journeyed to the West with greater prolificacy than the bolder flavours of other Chinese regions. Steamed fish and seafood, double-boiled soup, roasted and braised meat, and high-heat wok frying with a splash of oil mean lean, low-fat eating. Seasoning is minimal; the beauty is in the freshness of a diverse spectrum of ingredients shining within each dish across the shared table.

The likes of abalone, sea cucumber and bird’s nest, whose textures challenged the foreign palate, did not travel so well as the Cantonese people, but as fortunes flourished in Hong Kong in the 1970s and ‘80s these prized delicacies served to raise the local cuisine to fine-dining levels. Quality restaurants, where chefs had mastered the knife skills and painstaking cooking techniques required, added elegance to their décor.

Over the next two decades, innovation crept onto the menu. Chefs who had garnered experience in Chinese restaurants abroad returned with the confidence to spice up Cantonese standards with five-star Western luxuries, such as caviar, truffle and foie gras. Service followed suit: well-trained waiting staff presented dishes to the table, then portioned them out for individual dining.

In the modern era of nuclear families (and thus smaller shared dishes) and social media, Cantonese food plating is catching up with the artistic heights of Contemporary French and aesthetic grace of Japanese. At Dynasty Garden, at Goldin Financial Global Centre in Kowloon Bay, smoke swirls from crystalline ice plant served on a rectangular tray with char siu and cucumber, and wine-doused Peking duck flames at the table. Twists on tradition include the duck’s pineapple condiment, and abalone with black truffle. West comes to the East in beef ribs that are slow-cooked then presented on a bed of lo bak gou (turnip cake).

The Cantonese tradition of dim sum has been similarly updated by a new generation of chefs shaking up the strict formalities of the kitchen. Siu mai (shrimp dumplings) may now include quail’s egg with a caviar topping, and Ibérico pork may fill cheung fun (rice noodle rolls). While today’s top practitioners enjoy a new relationship with customers, who now seek chef-led, gourmet taste adventures as much as authenticity, the celebrity status of their Western counterparts still alludes them.

Last year, The Michelin Guide judged Fine Cantonese Food to be deserving of a separate book. Yet, of the 291 restaurants listed in Asia, Europe and USA, only four had three stars (plus 11 two stars and 63 one star). The elite quartet are Hong Kongers cooking in hotel restaurants: Chan Yan-tak and Wong Chi-fai of Lung King Heen and T’ang Court respectively; Joseph Tse of The 8 in Macau; and Ken Chan, head chef of Taipei’s Le Palais. Of the old school, Chan sees his job as bringing clarity to traditional dishes rather than pushing the boundaries of a beloved cuisine.

Herbs have been valued and cultivated since before written history, perhaps more for their curative powers than their culinary prowess – Hippocrates catalogued the healing properties of some 400 herbs in ancient Greece – yet it is hard to imagine food without the vital boost that these small, fragrant greens provide.

In the strict language of the kitchen, herbs are leaves and greenery, whereas spices originate from a plant’s roots, seeds or bark. They vary according to season and region, and whether used in cooking to perfume a dish, or raw as garnish, they shape the distinctive flavours of cuisines worldwide.

Seasoning the world

The four “fines herbes” of classic French cooking – finely chopped chervil, chives, parsley and tarragon – bring delicacy to traditional dishes and texture to salads. Herbs are pungent in Asia – think lemongrass, liquorice-like Thai basil and kaffir lime leaves in Thailand, and mint, coriander, fenugreek and curry leaves in India. Baskets of fresh herbs appear on dinner tables in Vietnam (mint and basil to add to phō or wrap spring rolls), parts of Eastern Europe (dipped in salt and consumed throughout the meal) and at Persian restaurants (sabzi).

The Japanese use shiso, mitsuba (a type of parsley) and negi (onion) to garnish the likes of sushi, miso soup, soba noodles and tofu. Purple shiso (or perilla) often pops up in contemporary Western fine dining now, flavouring lobster with heritage tomatoes at Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester, for example, and langoustine with masala, a signature of Edward Voon at LE PAN in Goldin Financial Global Centre in Kowloon Bay.

Growing their own

Diners’ demands for vegetarian menus and eye-catching plating over the past decade have seen chefs reaching further and more frequently for fresh herbs, and even seeding their own herb gardens. At country restaurants like The Star Inn in North Yorkshire and La Bastide de Moustiers in Provence – which both hold a Michelin star – chefs have the luxury of picking fresh herbs from their extensive gardens before service; at Pied à Terre in London limited space on the roof still yields 200 plants and a beehive. A herb trolley at the Dorchester’s three-Michelin-star restaurant enables aromatic leaf-snipping tableside.

Specialist suppliers offer lesser-known herbs such as English mace (combine with asparagus in soup), lovage (add to chicken stock) and hyssop (great with fatty meats). Lemon verbena’s benefits now go beyond herbal tea or a balm: its lemony lilt complements a variety of foods from poultry to puddings. And careful final placement of micro herbs, such as coriander and pea seedlings, and edible flowers, including begonia, viola, oxalis, borage and nasturtium, provides height, texture, colour and flavour, transforming dishes into veritable miniature forests or tropical isles.

Allowing fresh, natural flavours to shine on the plate is not new in fine dining – most top chefs in Europe have moved on from rich, cloying sauces and overly fussy preparations to a lighter, cleaner contemporary cuisine, buying at the market in the morning and flying in seasonal produce from trusted suppliers. Ethical eating (causing least harm) and locavore (supporting local farmers) movements provide further impetus nowadays, challenging chefs to be more creative and focused in what they serve each day.

Trust the chef

Japanese omakase is at the cutting edge of this dining luxury, placing the meal totally in the chef’s hands. An abbreviation of “I’ll leave it up to you”, omakase originated in tiny, traditional sushi restaurants without menus, where diners could get up close and personal with the artist across the counter. The feast was shaped by what was fresh that day and how diners reacted to their previous course. Its high cost, justified by the uniqueness of the experience, the market price of the seafood and the amount of premium sake consumed, would not be known until the end of dinner.

The concept has diluted a tad since moving out of the neighbourhood and the country. Temples of omakase such as Sushi Saito in Hong Kong (a branch of Takashi Saito’s famed three-Michelin-star restaurant in Tokyo), Sushi Tetsu in London, and Omakase Room by Tatsu in New York set a price per person in advance. Intimacy is vital: serving only six people per night with no menu, Chef Nobu Yamazaki at Sushi Taro in Washington DC is able to play it by ear.

Field work

A new generation of international chefs enjoy face time with their customers, too. At The DeBruce, a 28-seat restaurant in upstate New York, Aksel Theilkuhl makes a point of interacting with each diner. He is also a proponent of ‘field-to-table’ dining, foraging at dawn for wild produce to serve that evening; other restaurants, like Lazy Bear in San Francisco, employ professional foragers. Aided by its own farm, SingleThread in Sonoma, California is inspired by the Japanese concept of micro-seasons – 72 “ko” per year during which certain ingredients reach their peak.

Fresh asparagus (white and green) and truffles (white and black) have long been worshipped by quality chefs, appearing fleetingly on menus. Despite its London location, Lyle’s optimises the shooting season, with the likes of wild duck breast and pheasant on a tasting menu that changes daily. Diners are unaware in advance what is for lunch or dinner at Restaurant De Kas, situated in an Amsterdam greenhouse, although delicious organic greens grown under its roof are assured.

Subtle seasoning

Chinese cuisine bows to seasonal rhythms, with warming or cooling foods regulating the body’s energy flow. The Cantonese, in particular, appreciate the natural flavours of fresh produce, using spices and herbs sparingly. Seasonal specials at Goldin Group’s Cantonese restaurant Dynasty Garden include a menu of braised dishes in winter as well as lamb stew, and hairy crabs in autumn.

As Japanese cuisine has spread West in recent decades - championed for its purity by acclaimed chefs and an increasingly health-conscious public - so has the concept of umami infiltrated the general consciousness, coating the tongue with an addictive deliciousness. The fifth basic taste (joining salty, sweet, sour and bitter), umami was identified more than 110 years by Tokyo chemist Kikunae Ikeda, and named for the Japanese word for savouriness. Yet it only entered the English language in 1979, and is still the subject of much mystique, if not the contentious debate it once stirred.

Savoury mouthfeel

Since taste is subjective, umami is hard to define. In simple scientific terms, it is the amino acid glutamate, a protein, combined with nucleotides inosinate or guanylate, and minerals such as sodium and potassium. Sensually, that translates to a deep, meaty, moreish intensity which spreads pleasingly through the mouth and throat, and happily stimulates the brain. As a protein, umami triggers saliva and digestive juices; it also lingers longingly like no other aftertaste.

The umami taste explosion is best found in cooked, aged and fermented foods – think seaweed (Professor Ikeda was investigating kombu dashi, the kelp stock at the heart of numerous Japanese dishes), bonito flakes and shiitake in Japan; ginger, soy and fish sauces in Chinese cuisine; and the Western staples of cheese, particularly Parmesan, cured ham, tomatoes and Marmite. Breast milk is also rich in glutamate, which might explain the comforting cravings that umami inspires.

Natural flavour enhancement

Ikeda made a fortune with his discovery by packaging it as Ajinomoto, a.k.a. MSG (monosodium glutamate). While MSG sends alarm bells ringing in the West, the natural flavour-enhancers of umami-rich foods have won over the new generation of gourmets seeking fewer calories and animal fats. Japanese cuisine is a hot export; like many of its brethren, Matsunichi Japanese restaurant, located at Goldin Group’s headquarters in Hong Kong, offers an authentic, artisanal dining experience, each course infused with umami goodness.

East to West

Leading European chefs including Christian Bau and Sergio Herman, and in Hong Kong Edward Voon at LE PAN restaurant, have long blended flavoursome Japanese ingredients like uni, miso and katsuobushi with their prime produce and contemporary cooking techniques. Famed British chef Heston Blumenthal also sought to maximise the umami taste, serving a dashi-based dish at his award-winning The Fat Duck restaurant.

Umami is not only fine-dining mouthfeel, of course. Cheesy pizzas and spaghetti Bolognaise typically provoke such savoury taste pleasures. When the umami concept burst onto Western palates 10 years ago, New Yorker Adam Fleischman smartly founded the Umami Burger chain, serving beef patties infused with umami flavours to amplify the taste-buds. In a curious cross-cultural reversal, he has even brought the concept to Japan.