We first met Didier back in the early 2010s in the chaos of the Loire salons. Working our way through the fine list of Jura growers on show, the electric poise of Didier’s wines made a real impression on us – indeed, it was he who, with a wink, relieved us of a crumpled €50 in exchange for a mixed case that served as our souvenir of the weekend. A lot has changed at his domaine since then – no longer working under Côtes-du-Jura, Didier has embraced the growth of hybrid varietals, which are not permitted under the AOC. In a somewhat iconoclastic flourish, he has also done away with traditional cork closures in favour of screw-caps. His son Jules is now his partner in the business. The wines are as brilliant as we remember. Well over a decade after our first encounter, we’re so happy to now be working with Didier – a straight-talking, deep thinker who, by his own admission, ‘does not like problems’.

In a region with the prestige of Jura - the small domaines clustered around Arbois-Pupillin and their even tinier yields, the who’s-who of prized cult growers and so-called unicorn wines - Didier’s path is a curious one, at first glance perhaps hard to get one’s head around. But for all that Jura is built on the holy quartet of Chardonnay, Savagnin, Poulsard and Trousseau, it is these signature varietals that, with the changing climate, Didier now feels are compromised in their long-term cultivation here. Describing things in terms one might associate with the palliative care of a loved one, he speaks of his concern regarding the dozens of sprays of copper and sulphur required in an average year to protect these vines from disease. It is a process of intervention at odds with his completely additive-free approach in the cellar, so he has decided to make the bold break with tradition in favour of a sustainable path for the future. In a typically audacious remark, he declares, ‘there is no such thing as tradition’.

The Seyve Villard and Léon Millot hybrids he has planted he is clearly in love with – ‘beautiful, amazing…’ he gestures, closing his eyes and shaking his head with a smile as he trundles down the rows of vines seated on a tiny modified child’s bicycle. Both require no vineyard treatments at all and are planted over limestone and marl that, before this, had not been used for the cultivation of vines for close to a century – so there are no historic treatments in the ground either, just healthy soils. The vineyards sit in peaceful isolation, surrounded by woodland around Saint-Lothain, a short walk from the cellar. During another particularly trying 2024 vintage, with low yields again across the region, these vines produced a contrasting bountiful harvest. It’s hard to find fault in Didier’s logic when you look at the results.

When tasting the wines from these vineyards back at the cellar, we can’t help but observe how uncannily of this place they feel in character – “of course, we are in Jura – what did you expect?” he asks sternly... then flashes a grin. It’s clear that the use of these somewhat alien hybrids is, in Didier’s eyes, not alien at all; they serve as alternate channels or transmitters of this same terroir, which ultimately has the biggest impact on the finished article. It’s fascinating to feel the familiar tension, purity and verve that these unmistakably Jura wines possess. These hybrids make up around 1.5 hectares of the 5-hectare domaine, so they are still in the minority at this point, but Didier has made it clear that this is what he will plant here in the future – no more of the Chardonnay, Savagnin, Trousseau, Poulsard and Pinot Noir that makes up the other 3.5 hectares. 

As he slowly but surely builds on his hybrid work, we are happy to have a selection of wines that one might consider more typical alongside them – ouillé-style Chardonnay with gorgeous flinty reduction and a flash of barrel opulence, electrically charged Savagnin, pristine from tank, as well as the classic sous voile style, where Chardonnay is aged under flor for a couple of years in old barrels.

Rather than swimming against the tide for the sake of nonconformity, or trying to stand out for being different, it’s clear that Didier’s choices come from a place of carefully considered logic and reason. He cares less about keeping up appearances and more about function, purpose, longevity and – of course – making the best wine he can, as naturally as possible. Time will tell whether, in another ten years, more will be following his lead in this part of the world.