Domaine de Gouye, Saint Joseph, Old Vines

If you want to understand what Saint-Joseph once was—and what it still can be—look no further than Philippe Desbos’ wines from Domaine de Gouye. His wines are living proof that old-school authenticity still thrives on the granite slopes above Saint-Jean-de-Muzols, in the far north of the appellation, just a few miles across the river from the lauded hill of Hermitage. Here, he farms as his father and grandfather did: by hand, by horse, and with a quiet reverence for the land. For reference, the legendary parcels of Raymond Trollat—whose bottles are now considered “unicorns” and trade like rare art—sit literally a nine-iron away, above a small ravine. The last time I visited a few years back, Desbos smiled mid-conversation when I asked about Trollat and said, “Let’s go say hello.” Minutes later, we drove up toward those hallowed vines, the air thick with woodsmoke. That moment said everything about him. Watching the two of them talk like the neighbors they were—men who had worked side by side for decades—was one of my favorite moments on the wine route. Desbos’ 2023 Vieilles Vignes Saint-Joseph captures that same spirit: pure, dark-fruited, unfussed, and unmistakably classic whole-cluster Northern Rhône Syrah, vibrating with energy. It’s densely packed with cool wild blueberry, black olive, fresh violet, and savory, meaty undertones that need no knowledge of the region to fall in love with. These are wines that speak softly but leave a deep echo, reminding you why the Northern Rhône still matters—and always will. It’s where the best Syrah on earth is made, and that will never change.

Saint-Joseph stretches for nearly forty miles along the Rhône’s western bank, climbing the steep, terraced hillsides that rise from the river opposite Hermitage and run south toward Cornas. Its vineyards trace ancient granite outcrops veined with gneiss, schist, and mica—soils that give Syrah its lifted perfume, iron spine, and mineral cut. First granted AOC status in 1956, the appellation’s rules are straightforward: reds must be primarily Syrah, though the law still allows up to 15 percent Marsanne and Roussanne to be co-fermented, a practice rarely employed today. In the northern reaches around Saint-Jean-de-Muzols—the historic cradle of the appellation—the altitude and eastern exposure preserve remarkable freshness even in warm years. Wines from here often recall Côte-Rôtie in their aromatic precision, yet carry a bit more earth, smoke, and muscle. It’s rugged beauty rendered in liquid form, where labor is measured in blisters, not spreadsheets.

The story of Domaine de Gouye begins in 1933, when Philippe’s grandfather, Léon Desbos, carved terraces by hand on these high granite slopes overlooking Tournon-sur-Rhône. For decades the family sold their wine in barrels to local bistros and merchants; bottling under their own label didn’t begin until Philippe’s father took over in the 1970s. Philippe officially joined in the early 1990s and gradually expanded the domaine to just over three hectares, still centered on the original lieu-dit Gouye, which gives the estate its name. The small stone winery he works in today looks much as it did eighty years ago—perched on a ledge above the Rhône, surrounded by goats, chickens, and his horse Ramsès, whose steady pace still pulls the plow through those dizzying rows. Three generations have passed here with almost nothing changing but the weather, and the wines have remained an unbroken conversation between family and land.

In the cellar, Desbos’ approach borders on monastic. Grapes are harvested by hand, often with family and neighbors pitching in, and fermented as whole clusters in a mix of concrete and large wooden vats. Foot-treading breaks the skins, and pressing is done in a towering 1868 vertical press that looks like something rescued from a museum. The Vieilles Vignes cuvée comes from his oldest parcels—planted between 1955 and 1975—yielding painfully small quantities of concentrated fruit. The wine spends 12 to 24 months in neutral oak foudres before bottling without fining or filtration. Nothing is rushed, nothing disguised: it’s Syrah in its most elemental form, shaped by patience and weather rather than recipe. Only about 7,000 bottles are produced each year, and each release reminds you why handmade wine still matters.

In the glass, the 2023 Vieilles Vignes pours a deep, opaque purple with glints of indigo at the rim. The nose is deep and aromatic—blue fruit, cold black olive, dried meat, fresh violet, underbrush, and a savory faint soy and mushroom edge. The palate carries that same interplay of floral lift and meaty depth, framed by fine, granite-etched tannins and a long, mineral finish. Decant for 30 minutes to let it stretch and breathe, and serve just above cellar temperature (around 60 °F) in large Bordeaux stems—Burgundy bowls work beautifully too. Pair it with slow-roasted lamb or grilled game, and you’ll understand why Philippe Desbos’ wines belong in the same conversation as the icons across the river.