Tell us about the moment you first became interested in wine
I’d just moved to London in 2011 and went to Viajante for dinner. Coming from Australia, I’d had very little exposure to expressive wines, let alone natural wine, so it was a bit of a turning point. I was given a bottle of Chinon from Domaine Bernard Baudry: fresh, peppery, slightly capsicum-led, a really savoury, delicious red. It worked in such an unexpected way with the food, and that combination shifted my perspective. From that point on, I’ve been constantly thirsty to learn more about wine.
Describe your wine list at Osteria Vibrato
Our menu channels the spirit of a classic trattoria, featuring both Italian and French wines in about a 50/50 split. We’ve chosen a lot of our wines to reflect a broad scope of Italian wine history. There’s a real love for the classic wine world - whether that’s the Rhône Valley or Burgundy - and we like to juxtapose styles: Pinot Noir alongside Nebbiolo, Sangiovese next to sun-soaked Sicilian reds, and those richer Rhône wines in contrast with more lifted expressions, with Champagne and sparkling wines playing their part across the list. That tension creates something quite eclectic and relatively concise.
Over the course of your career, have you had any wine-related disasters?
Early on, as a junior sommelier at Medlar restaurant, I served a corked bottle because I didn’t know the wine well enough. It was a Loire Sauvignon Blanc, and it was a bit of a catastrophe. I had to get my head sommelier to step in while I quietly shrank into the background, definitely one of the more memorable mistakes. Since then, I’ve been very wary of faults and making sure every bottle is exactly as it should be before it hits the table. A lesson well learnt.
Who do you most respect in the wine world?
A lot of them. I’ve been lucky to meet some incredible winemakers who’ve opened their doors to me. One of the most formative experiences was spending four months living and working at Mas Coutelou with Jeff Coutelou in Puimisson, in the Languedoc. It was a truly revolutionary experience, being surrounded by die-hard vignerons and natural wine purists, and seeing that level of dedication and focus up close. Closer to home, people like Banjo Harris Plane, who was general manager and head sommelier when I was at Attica, have been hugely influential.
What’s the most interesting wine you’ve come across recently?
It’s actually a Picpoul, which might surprise people, as it’s not always the most exciting grape. But this one, from southern France, is made by a couple at Château de Béru. It’s quite unusual because it doesn’t taste like any Picpoul you’d typically expect. The project is called Manostrum Vini, and it has the heart and soul of Chablis, but with this delicate warmth from the south of France. It’s pretty outrageous - I was completely dumbfounded when I first tasted it.
What are the three most overused tasting notes?
We all fall into it, describing wines as ‘fresh’, ‘juicy’, ‘fruity’. It reduces them down to their simplest form, rather than talking about how they make you feel or what they remind you of. Part of that is probably because a lot of wines don’t have that much character. But expressive wines can provoke a completely different reaction in people and in turn make them easier to articulate because they are much more vivid.
What is your ultimate food and drink match?
Champagne and seafood. I love seafood, and sitting with a whole crab, steamed and picked apart while drinking bubbles, is one of my fondest memories. Whether that’s in Paris or by the coast, by the ocean, it rarely gets better than that.
Old World or New World?
I’m definitely an Old World enthusiast. I learnt everything I know about wine mostly in Europe and I think I’ve fallen in love with that expression of terroir. It’s not that I dislike New World wine, but I naturally gravitate towards Old World styles far more.
What is your pet hate when it comes to wine service in other restaurants?
Upselling. If you’re actually having a proper conversation, you can understand what someone wants and guide them towards it, rather than pressuring them to spend more than they’re comfortable with. I’m not particularly lavish myself - I like what I like and I’ve definitely had moments where I’ve been a bit strapped for cash and made to feel slightly uncomfortable for not wanting to spend £200 on a bottle. I don’t think guests should ever be put in that position.
Who is your favourite producer right now?
I’m a big fan of Olek Bondonio, who’s become one of the most sought-after names in Barbaresco. Giovanni Canonica is another — a tiny estate in Piedmont producing incredible Barolo and Nebbiolo. That whole region is running through my veins at the moment. I find it really exciting — there’s more happening there now than there was a decade ago, but at the same time you’ve still got these iconic stalwarts.
As head of operations, what question do you most get asked by customers?
From a wine perspective, Italian whites can be quite confusing for people, which gives you a bit of leeway to guide them. When you’re able to show guests something they might not have come across before, it really lands. People often come in asking for a dry, crisp white and in other places you might point them towards Burgundy, but here we like to introduce them to the grapes and styles of Abruzzo instead. That curiosity is a big part of it; people are increasingly open to being shown something new when it comes to Italian whites.
Which wine producing region or country is underrated at the moment?
I’ve always thought the Languedoc offers such great expression. Maybe I’m biased, as I’ve got a bit of an affinity with it, but there are so many small producers making really characterful wines. In Italy as well, places like Campania and Puglia have been a bit pigeonholed, but there’s a real energy coming through now, a growing enthusiasm around the wines that feels really exciting.
It’s your last meal and you can have a bottle of any wine in the world. What is it and why?
It was a bottle of Syrah that first drew me into wine, so I’d probably have to end on that, something from the Rhône Valley. I’d love something older and a bit lavish, like a 1995 Thierry Allemand Cornas Reynard, and just let it sit and breathe on the table as I take my final taste and final breath.