Gabbo and Amerighi: where Syrah speaks and the table listens

It wasn’t just a tasting. It never is, when the table is shared with people like Stefano Amerighi and when the wines laid bare are bottles drawn from the hearts of vineyards, not marketing departments. At Gabbo Cave à Vin, under dim lights and the soft hum of conversation, we gathered not just to sip Syrah—but to discover it, debate it, remember where it came from.

Gabbo had no interest in a strict food pairing. His menu was led instead by instinct, season, and the sensuous intelligence of great produce. I sensed a great influence from Alain Passard, with dishes that surprised not for their complexity but for their clarity. Saint Felicien from Ardèche still warm enough to blush. Risoni folded into robiola and Parmigiano like snowdrifts. Tagliolini Gialletti laced with Mora Romagnola sausage, deep, savory, wild.

It was the kind of dinner where the wines had to stand up, not just complement. And they did.

Stefano Amerighi opened the night not with his own Syrah but with a spirit of generosity. He poured other people's stories before his own: each bottle an ode to the Rhône, each glass a confrontation between philosophy and terroir.

The Rhône Valley, stretching from Lyon to Avignon, is Syrah's spiritual home. In the Northern Rhône, Syrah is the red grape reigning, grown on steep hillsides of granite, schist, and decomposed rock. Each appellation, St. Joseph, Cornas, Côte-Rôtie, Hermitage, tells a different story through its soils and slopes. Some are structured and shadowed; others aromatic and ethereal. That night, we tasted across them all.

Jean Gonon – St. Joseph 2016

From the historic village of Mauves, in the southern stretch of St. Joseph, Jean and Pierre Gonon work old vines on vertiginous granite terraces. Their philosophy is Burgundian in spirit—organic viticulture, whole-cluster fermentation, aging in old oak. The 2016 is a study in detail: raspberry, violets, graphite, and a mineral drag that feels carved from stone. Here, St. Joseph isn’t just a label—it’s a philosophy of place.

Marie Bacconnier – St. Joseph 2022

A fresh voice from the mid-slope parcels of St. Jean-de-Muzols, Bacconnier farms young vines on weathered granite and mica-schist soils. Her 2022, just entering its bloom, bursts with sour cherry, and green peppercorn. She vinifies with light touch, native yeasts, allowing the granite to speak clearly. A wine that promises evolution. It was like watching a new dialect being written.

Michal Clotaire – St. Joseph 2012

From the cooler northern reaches near Serrières, Michal Clotaire crafts Syrah that leans into maturity. His 2012 offers black tea, dried blood orange, leather, notes shaped by both time and terroir. Vineyards here are more mixed: granite blended with patches of clay and loam, which lend depth and pliancy. There’s a worn-in confidence to this wine—like a jacket passed down.

Thierry Allemand – Cornas 2021

A renegade of Cornas, Allemand farms impossibly steep plots in Reynard and Chaillot—pure granite, no nonsense. No chemicals. No compromise. His 2021, from a cool and structured vintage, is a wine of coiled energy: dark plum, crushed rock, raw meat, iron. Young now, destined for legend.

Hirotake Ooka – Cornas 2014

Originally from Japan, Ooka farms biodynamically in the Chaillot sector of Cornas. His 2014 has aged into complexity: sous-bois, ink, pomegranate skin, though after some times from the opening the wine changed a lot. The granite soils here express themselves with less flash, more finesse.

J. Jacquart – Cornas 2021

One of the newer names in Cornas, Jacquart farms upper slopes near St. Pierre, where the granite is broken and more exposed. His 2021 shows density—blackcurrant, iron, roasted herb—but also surprising lift. The tannins grip, but the mid-palate soars. Still under the radar, but not for long.

Thibaud Capellaro – Côte-Rôtie 2020

From the Côte Blonde side of Côte-Rôtie, where schist and decomposed mica yield finer, more floral Syrah, Capellaro makes wines of detail and restraint. His 2020 offers violet, sandalwood, white pepper. Partial carbonic maceration lifts the aromatics without sacrificing depth. There’s perfume here—but not perfume for perfume’s sake. It elevated Gabbo’s robiola risoni to something memorable.

René Rostaing – Côte-Rôtie 2017

From parcels in both Côte Blonde and Côte Brune, Rostaing’s 2017 marries elegance and structure. The Brune vineyards give structure and spice; the Blonde, grace and perfume. This vintage, from a classic year, showed smoked plum, tapenade, and violets—Côte-Rôtie in stereo. One of the most complete wines of the evening.

The pairing of Gabbo was with Lumachine pasta with orange, as he said

Rostaing belongs to the ancien regime production philosophy, I was expecting a warm vintage, predominant wood, fruit, I decided to pair it with Lumachine pasta and orange, playing with bitterness and acidity. It was my favourite pairing.

Dard et Ribo – Hermitage Blanc 2021

From a south-facing slope of the Hermitage hill, Dard and Ribo make their white Marsanne in a style that defies convention. No oak, but essential. Just purity—almond skin, lemon oil, beeswax, and a saline lick. From clay-limestone soils rather than granite, the wine adds a different voice to the chorus.

In the End, the Valley Spoke

For the seasoned Rhône lover, this was pilgrimage. For the curious, initiation. What united the evening was not just Syrah, but the multiplicity within it: the way it contorts and clarifies depending on slope, soil, and soul. Stefano Amerighi didn’t simply present a tasting—he opened a dialogue. These weren’t wines arranged by rating, but by resonance.

And at Gabbo, with hay-infused stock and wild snails, we didn’t just drink terroir. We listened to it.

Which one do you prefer?

• René Rostaing – Côte-Rôtie 2017
• Dard et Ribo – Hermitage Blanc 2021
• Jean Gonon – St. Joseph 2016
• Marie Bacconier – St. Joseph 2022

See All Options