Leah Jørgensen, “Coeur de Tour Rain”, Gamay, Havlin Vineyard

Some wines feel like they shouldn’t work—like someone got overly romantic, overly ambitious, and overly confident all at once. And yet, every so often, a passionate maniac pulls off something so pure, so precise, you’re left wondering why more people haven’t had the guts to try it. This wine always blows my mind. You take a winemaker who worships old-school France—the soulful, earth-scented reds that shaped her palate—and drop her into Oregon with access to impeccably farmed Willamette Valley fruit, and somehow she channels everything we love about Gamay into something even more refined. Imagine the bright-eyed energy of great Cru Beaujolais, but polished through the elegance, tension, and purity that the Willamette Valley provides in spades—a Gamay that moves with Pinot-like grace, keeps its joyful wild-berry core, and carries a deep mineral resonance from volcanic soils layered over ancient marine sediment. This is one of the great red-wine values produced in the United States, the kind of bottle that disappears faster than you’d ever like to admit.

Leah’s journey to a wine like this is anything but linear. She began in a tiny D.C. wine shop, worked her way through nearly every corner of the business, then moved west to Oregon, where she absorbed the wisdom of pioneers like Dick Erath and David Adelsheim. Though she built her reputation around Loire varieties, her philosophy translates beautifully to Gamay: minimal intervention, obsessive respect for acidity, and an almost spiritual belief in letting the site speak. “Coeur de Tour Rain” is her homage to the soulful reds she loves, but in 2022 it becomes something uniquely Oregonian—a pure, shimmering Gamay shaped entirely by vineyard, wind, and vintage.

The fruit comes from Havlin Vineyard on the eastern edge of the Van Duzer Corridor—a cool, wind-swept zone that seems engineered for Gamay. The site belongs to Jeff Havlin, a former wine-school classmate of Leah’s, who farms the vines himself under L.I.V.E. certification. His plant material comes from the legendary Seven Springs Vineyard, planted in 1984 by Al MacDonald—widely recorded as the oldest own-rooted Gamay in the United States. The Van Duzer winds roar inland each afternoon, slamming cool Pacific air into the vineyard, thickening skins, slowing ripening, and preserving astonishing natural acidity. The 2022 vintage was cool, classic, and slow to develop—late budbreak, a gentle summer, and a long, patient glide into fall. It gave Leah everything she needed: low sugars, high acidity, and layers of aromatic nuance.

In the cellar, she stays firmly out of the way. The grapes are sorted and destemmed, cold-soaked to amplify perfume and color, then gently fermented with manual punch-downs. Aging takes place in neutral French oak for transparency and texture. Leah often says her role is simply to listen—responding to the vintage rather than imposing a formula. The result is a Gamay that feels Loire in spirit yet unmistakably Willamette in its finesse: lifted, quietly complex, and outrageously drinkable.

In the glass, the 2022 Coeur de Tour Rain is pure Gamay charm: a vibrant ruby-red hue and aromas of wild strawberries, crushed red cherries, pomegranate skin, underbrush, wild flowers, delicate spice, and the faintest hint of wet stone. The palate is lithe and energetic—wild berries, tart cherry, cranberry, and red plum wrapped around high, mouthwatering acidity and incredibly fine tannins. The finish is clean, refreshing, and impossibly inviting. Serve it slightly cool at 58–60°F in a Burgundy bowl and it absolutely sings. Pair it with roast chicken, charcuterie, mushroom dishes, grilled salmon, Korean fried chicken, or simply a quiet night when you want a bottle that disappears without effort. This is what happens when passion meets precision: a Willamette Valley Gamay with soul, story, and that electric drinkability only the best producers ever manage to capture.