'This is a Mozart, not a Beethoven vintage': Why 2025 might be the best Bordeaux in decades

A view of the gothic Chateau Pichon Baron, with plenty of green grape vines in the foreground and a blue sky overhead — It was a year to savour at vineyards such as Château Pichon Baron.

(Image credit: Alamy)

There's a Bordeaux rule of thumb that years ending in five turn out great. This is by no means infallible: 1965 was one of the most disastrous vintages of the late 20th century. However, when you consider the legendary 1945, then add 1975 (uneven, but classic in parts), 1985 (precocious and lovely), 1995 (firm and fine), 2005 (magnificent across the board) and 2015 (ripe and forward), the theory, which has no scientific basis, seems worth entertaining.

What’s in no doubt is that 2025 is another very fine ‘five’ vintage in Bordeaux. Could it be even more than that — a vintage that for once, and for its own special and unique reasons, justifies the torrents of hype that gush out from wine merchants some six months after the harvest, as they send out their en primeur offers for wines that are still in barrel and will be bottled in the spring or summer of 2027?

'In a time of such global gloom, a beautiful vintage surely gives cause for innocent celebration and enjoyment. My favourite poet Horace, who enjoined us to savour the day, would surely have given the thumbs-up'

The en primeur system has not had a good press in recent years. The case against it is pretty compelling: this seems to be a system that favours the seller (the châteaux) more than the buyer. For the châteaux, there’s an obvious attraction in getting money up front for a wine that’s a long way off being ready to drink or even bottled. For the consumer, there is a number of risks: for a start, the development of very young wines is always somewhat unpredictable. Wines that present attractively in extreme youth may go into their shells and never quite emerge, as with 1928 and 1975.

Secondly, how can you be sure the sample that you (or your merchant) taste is an honest reflection of the final bottled blend, rather than a particularly well- favoured component? Thirdly, there is always the risk that the merchant you buy from may go out of business, leaving you with a problematic claim on some of the contents of a barrel. Fourthly, and probably most importantly, you may find that you can acquire exactly the same wine, at a lower or not higher price, several years down the line, as has occurred with recent good, but large vintages, such as 2019, 2020 and 2022. Your en primeur purchase could turn out to be the opposite of a bargain.

'I can’t remember a year that had quite these qualities: a sort of delectable spring in the step combined with ripeness, a perfect dancing balance'

Why, in this case, therefore, is your wine correspondent proposing a reverse ferret? There are a number of reasons. To answer the question about whether the vintage is truly special, a recent tasting of 2025s in London convinced me that this latest ‘Bordeaux 5’ is exceptional. To put it less formally, I fell in love with the vintage. I can’t remember a year that had quite these qualities: a sort of delectable spring in the step combined with ripeness, a perfect dancing balance.

What is special about the 2025 vintage is the combination of great ripeness — this was one of the hottest summers of recent times — with finesse. Alcohol levels are lower than in some recent warm vintages — often about 13.5%, as opposed to 14% or 14.5%. Although there was extreme heat in August, with 10 days above 35˚C, nights were quite cool and the rain that came in September was generally (if not universally) welcome. Yields were also low, in some cases dramatically so. This evokes comparison with 1961, that greatest of all vintages, and also the thought that these wines will not be as easy to come by in the future as those from bigger vintages.

This is a Mozart, not a Beethoven vintage. The wines are already attractive; tannins on the whole are not massive and forbidding. For the mature en primeur purchaser, there is hope that these wines will be ready to imbibe before the hopeful drinker passes the point of no return. Finally, in a time of such global gloom, a beautiful vintage surely gives cause for innocent celebration and enjoyment. My favourite poet Horace, who enjoined us to savour the day, would surely have given the thumbs-up.

This feature originally appeared in the June 24, 2026, issue of Country Life. Click here for more information on how to subscribe.

Country Life's wine critic Harry Eyres is a writer, journalist and poet who has written several books about wine and has contributed to publications including The Times, Harpers & Queen and The Spectator.