An ineluctable nose that somehow pushes me away as tersely as I am pulled towards it. Of petrichor chiselled from withering lemons. Of triturated cement and honey turning white firm to liquid in the sun and frangipanis in the early morning. It carves the tongue, slowly, with the precision, tightly held-back power and fierce concentration of a lithographer. It gleams like mithril and seems to echo in the mouth like the halls and caverns of Tolkien`s middle-earth. A wine of Moria. There is Savennière severity in the fractal galaxy of its acidity; salt crystals lacing and locking like snowflakes frozen on wires; and yet right there, in its very tenaciously still centre, there is such a sweetness and purity of fruit that my spine is tingling. Origami-folded bergamot on the cusp of flowers and quince. Beeswax and lanolin and the faintest drift of smoke on the warm floral breath of a soft, heavy breeze on a summer night. An ocean of complexity and depth. Long and achingly pure. 17.5 points

A mid-weight Savennières the 2018 La Croix Picot offers an elegant mouthfeel and good clarity of fruit. There`s not only Braeburn apples but also a savory, pastry-like note to the medium-length finish. It has poise and focus, and the combination of acidity and tannic grip makes you want to lick the insides of your mouth on the finish. Go on, you`ll enjoy it. 90 points