Arbanne to Eau-de-Vie: Inside the Multi-Faceted World of Moutard

The rainy drive to Buxeuil immediately reveals the character of the Côte des Bar: rural, rugged, and refreshingly unpolished. Far from the manicured elegance of the Montagne de Reims or the Côte des Blancs, this is Champagne’s earthy, southern sibling, raw and unapologetically itself. Alexandre Moutard, third generation, greets me with the ease of someone entirely at home in his surroundings. No fuss, no grand introduction, just a handshake, a smile, and a sense that we can get straight to the real stuff.

We begin in the cellar beneath his offices, weaving through rows of demijohns and barrels. It’s cool, quiet, and dense with the scent of aging spirit. From there, we walk up the hill to the distillery, where Alexandre introduces me to a colleague, waist-deep in an alambic still, scrubbing copper and laughing about it. They trade the kind of banter that only comes from years of working side by side. Distillation is clearly a passion. Alexandre’s eyes brighten as he describes their range: poire, eau de vie, fine de Champagne, and a kaleidoscope of ratafias. They distill not just for themselves, but also for a number of producers in the region.

The Moutard story begins in 1927, with the first champagne bottled in Buxeuil, and the brand officially registered in 1955. Today, production stands at around 450,000 bottles annually, from 22 hectares of estate vines and a similar volume sourced from trusted growers. Their reach extends beyond Champagne: holdings in Chablis, Tonnerre, Epineuil and Irancy, bridging Burgundy and Champagne not only in geography, but in philosophy. Their cuvée list is long and expressive, spanning Crémant de Bourgogne, Rosé des Riceys, and still champagnes like Coteaux Champenois.

“If we’re going to bottle a Coteaux Champenois, it has to be as good as or better than a Grand Cru Chablis,” Alexandre asserts. “Otherwise, there’s no point. We’re not here to make a wine that competes with ourselves.” With their own vines in Chablis, the bar is set high. Their Coteaux Champenois, crafted only in exceptional years, spends at least two years in oak and is built for longevity, not commercial expediency.

This uncompromising ethos is most evident in their work with Champagne’s forgotten grapes: Arbane, Petit Meslier, Pinot Blanc, and Pinot Gris. When the post-war “chasse aux sorcières” - grape witch hunt saw most producers rip out these varieties, the Moutard family stood firm. Today, they’re recognised pioneers, producing mono-varietal cuvées and supplying much of the region’s new plantings through the Bérillon nursery, often referred to as the "pépiniériste des vignerons stars".

Back in 2000, only one hectare of Petit Meslier remained in the entire region. Its reputation for erratic ripening made it unpopular. Alexandre shrugs, “It just needs attention. A lot of attention.” He’s not wrong. Meslier ripens late, and then, suddenly, can overripen overnight. The 2018 is proof of its potential: smoky and floral on the nose, with yellow peach, blackberry leaf, and agapanthus. The palate zips with sherbet, lime, kumquat, orange peel, and a touch of Angostura bitters, with dried prunes rounding the finish. It’s a wine that walks the line between ripeness and tension, precise and nervy.

The 2015 Arbane shows the same contradictions, but a different aromatic profile: herbal, almost wild. Lavender, thyme, mint, and blackberry bush on the nose; less acidity, more intrigue. Sharp, fragrant, lifted, a bit unruly. These two are the prestige cuvées from the range, making for very rare and unusual bottles. They also create stunning blanc and rosé blends of six grapes (including three forgotten grapes), as well as a Coteaux Champenois.

One of the house’s best-kept secrets lies deep in the cellar: an extraordinary library of back vintages, resting patiently sur pointe, dating all the way back to 1964. These bottles, from both the Moutard and Diligent family domaines, are not available to the general public. They’re reserved for a handful of longtime clients and collectors who understand their rarity. Each vintage is a quiet archive of the region’s history, preserved under cork, undisturbed, and waiting for the right moment to resurface.

What unites everything here is a philosophy of minimal intervention. Alexandre avoids buzzwords like “natural” or “organic,” preferring a more grounded approach. “We’re not trying to dress anything up,” he says. “We just want the wine to speak.”

That clarity, of speech and of intent, is both Burgundian and uniquely Moutard. With more than 40 wines and 150 references in their portfolio, they resist easy definition. They are Champagne, but also Burgundy. Winemakers, distillers. Traditionalists with a taste for the experimental. And above all, uncompromising.