bon appétit: How One Man’s Obsession with Fruit Created the UK’s Most Exquisite Spirits

Barney Wilczak and his tiny distillery are bottling the wildness of the orchard.

BY OSAYI ENDOLYN

May 12, 2025

“The fruit is coming.”

The urgent phone call that Barney Wilczak anticipates typically comes in the middle of the night. The caller is one of his local farmer partners who has just walked their orchards to touch, smell, and taste the fruit. The brief exchange notifies Wilczak that the quince, perry pears, blood oranges, raspberries, or damson plums destined for distillation are ready to harvest. A distiller of groundbreaking eaux de vie, Wilczak describes his work as being “in service to the fruit.” Part of that service is to represent the fruit at its highest level of flavor, to harness its essence. So the processing must begin right away. Wilczak takes the farmer’s call as his cue, rises in the early darkness, and prepares to receive by the truckload literal tons of fruit.

Wilczak built Capreolus Distillery in 2016, on the same property as his childhood home in Cotswold, southwest England. His eaux de vie have an almost unnerving ability to transport the drinker to those abundant fields. The region is known for its endemic fruits, many of which don’t appear in other parts of the world. The name Capreolus refers to the deer that frequent Wilczak’s garden. “They’re the most beautiful native deer we have and they’re so ephemeral,” he says. “You see them and then they disappear. It felt apt, as we try to capture things that only last for moments.”

That late night/early morning phone call from Wilczak’s farmer collaborator wouldn’t have been a surprise. Wilczak firmly believes that production revolves entirely around the wisdom of the trees and the people who cultivate them, not marketing drives or quarterly sales targets. Every piece of fruit that arrives at the distillery is hand-sorted to check for outliers of “too much softness or spring,” before it is hand-pressed and guided through distillation and bottling.

Hand-sorting gooseberries at Capreolus. Photograph By Barney Wilczak

You might say that Wilczak practices a type of conservation: His farming supports much-needed biodiversity, and drinkers around the world can experience hyperlocal plants they wouldn’t otherwise have access to. The quince evokes notes of cinnamon, fig, and dark cherry. It tastes of earth yet bright twig and leaf—to drink these eaux de vie is to be situated in terrain.

“Last year we spent 7.5 hours sorting 700,000 individual raspberries. That’s 3.6 tons,” Wilczak says, with a look of bewilderment. All that fruit, time, and effort across a team of four people, yielded roughly three hundred 375-ml bottles. With a sense of pride and maybe surrender, he adds, “It’s ridiculous.”

Wilczak has fans, if not acolytes, of his so-called ridiculousness. Among them, famed cocktail bartender Ryan Chetiyawardana, professionally known as Mr. Lyan, who features Capreolus eaux de vie at Seed Library in London’s Shoreditch, Washington D.C. bar Silver Lyan, and Super Lyan in Amsterdam. He credits Dawn Davies of The Whisky Exchange for introducing him to the spirit. “It was revolutionary to try an eau de vie that represents my favorite fruits as a UK native,” Chetiyawardana says. “Barney sees the whole essence of the plant as not just a biological creature, but what it stands for. I was flabbergasted.”

A view of the orchard

Preserving nature in the bottle

Wilczak found distilling through his love of nature. As a student he thrived in botany and biology, but couldn’t make sense of working nonstop in a lab. He pivoted to study photography and specialized in conservation. In brief, he became a plant photojournalist. “I was photographing habitat restoration on six continents, building media libraries for botanic gardens in 118 countries.” Alongside his studies, he developed a hobby for making ciders, exploring the technicalities of distillation and méthode traditionnelle, a style of winemaking that involves a secondary fermentation in the bottle. The leap to distilling was not a huge jump. “It all comes down to a love for plants.”

As he approached age 30, Wilczak experienced “a bit of a life crisis.” He didn’t want to only document plants for visual archives. He wanted to promote the growth and appreciation of those plants for others. “I realized that people are obsessed with varietal differences in wine, but it’s also true of every single fruit.”

When Wilczak launched Capreolus, his bank account was overdraft by eight pounds, but supported by his partner Hannah Morrison, whose taste became imperative to Wilczak’s process. Everything was once done by hand and muscle, though he’s since acquiesced to buying a mill. He committed to work with farmers within a fifty-mile radius of his home-distillery, and just recently purchased meadowland to plant quince trees, which will soon bring that particular eau de vie production within range (it was previously the lone outlier).

His focus on local farmers came down to pay equity. “Early on I was talking to someone in Finland about wild-picked cranberries and they said, ‘We’ll get them to you for 2 euros per kilo.’ I knew that was really really cheap for wild-picked fruit,” he explains. The fruit would be picked in Russia. “What are the labor laws there? What are people getting paid?” Wilczak wanted to work with people he could meet, with operations he could see. “We wanted to pay people a proper wage, focused on farming well,” he says, a nod to the price point of his lineup, which can range from about $90 to $185.

With his local focus, he learned that there was not “a single piece of overlap in flavor or aroma.” The realization inspired him to learn how these individual expressions manifested. He spent about seven years studying fruit distillation practices in epicenters of Austria, Germany, Italy, and France, and translating non-English books on the subject.

After distilling perry pears from 200-year-old 45-foot trees, Wilczak was shocked. The distillation didn’t smell like fruit. “It smelled like sun-warmed bark, ripe and unripe wood, autumnal leaves, and almost like the grass around the trees,” he says. “My self-guided education had a huge focus on a technological, yield-driven way of working, but that robbed the eau de vie of complexity and organic structure,” he continues. “I became interested in making eaux de vie that are truly organic and expressive of where they come from.” That meant becoming dogmatic about respecting the inherent knowledge of the trees and the ecosystems that allowed them to produce such varied fruit. “Suddenly, the eaux de vie started to smell like the orchards.”

Black currant eau de vie in progress. Photograph By Barney Wilczak

Around the world with eaux de vie

In New York City, Jorge Riera, wine director at Frenchette, Le Roc, and the newly revamped Le Veau d’Or, features Capreolus eaux de vie as the finishing touch on leisurely, decadent meals. “It’s mind-blowing,” Riera says. “The delicacy, the finesse, the floral notes that Barney gets out of it. I was blown away.”

Riera first tasted the lineup in 2018 in Vienna, Austria, at Karakterre, a 14-year-old natural wine conference celebrating producers primarily from central and eastern Europe (the festival now has a NYC iteration going into its fourth year). Riera immediately called his importer, PM Spirits, to see about getting Capreolus to the States. “With the raspberry eau de vie, you feel the fuzz of the fruit in the nose,” he goes on. “They work with nature and it’s beautiful. But for me, I see the result at the dining table. I see the emotions from people immediately.”

One of the more evocative eaux de vie is the damson plum, a quintessential British fruit. “Old recipes of distilling damson take on this slightly jammy, tart note,” Chetiyawardana says. “Barney manages to capture the smell of the blossoms as you walk past the bush. It has that white flower elegance. The purple fruit notes encapsulate the tartness of the skin and the yield of the flesh. It pulls through to this wonderful fresh almond note from the kernel.”

For this writer, Capreolus eaux de vie feels like falling into a safe, warm memory you didn’t know you had. The damson plum is an example of Wilczak’s conservation ideology: “No one knows what to do with a cooking plum; it’s something we’ve lost from our vocabulary. We can let these things slip away. But if we want those genetics as a resource given changing climate, we have to give a justification for them to be grown.” His exquisite bottles make for a compelling reason. The only experience better than sipping Capreolus is to share it with someone as willing to be moved as you.

Bloomberg: The 15 Best New Bottles I Tried in 2024, From $26 to $26,000

Season’s greetings, spirits sippers! It’s Brad Japhe, the resident expert on the subject, reporting for duty. As is customary this time of year, I’m presenting my annual list of the absolute best bottles I encountered over the past 12 months. The stable of contenders was crowded in 2024: Of some 322 new expressions sampled, I counted no less than three dozen deserving of effusive praise. Sadly, some of those offerings are just so painfully pricey and/or excruciatingly allocated that I couldn’t, in good conscience, include them here.

Instead, my choices embody a wide variety of liquid across all categories and price points. Make no mistake, you will see bottles fetching four- or even five-figure sums—entries are organized in order of increasing cost—but it’s all relatively available for purchase. You won’t need an estate planner to broker acquisition.

But before we get to the big reveal, let’s recap the year’s major headlines. Beyond spotlighting the shape of the industry in 2024, these news items hint at where we’re headed in the months ahead.

For one thing, people aren’t paying as much for rare whiskey. A recent report from the financial advisory firm Noble & Co. indicated that the value of auctioned scotch cratered by 40% in 2024. But that hasn’t slowed the trend of formerly shuttered “ghost” distilleries rising from the grave across the Scottish landscape, as I reported this summer.

Tariffs proposed by the incoming administration mean your favorite tequila could effectively become 25% more expensive in the year ahead. And a separate trade war with the UK could persuade domestic scotch consumers to experiment with single malts from emerging markets such as India or New Zealand.

Or, perhaps they’ll start exploring American single malt, since the category is finally going to be recognized by the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, after more than eight years of lobbying efforts.

But enough speculating about what’s coming. Here are my best bottles of 2024.

Alambique Serrano Rum Blend #5 — $70.Source: Vendor

Alambique Serrano Rum Blend #5

There’s more than just mezcal coming out of the highlands of Oaxaca. This artisanal brand from the steep hillsides of Santa María Tlalixtac specializes in world-class rum. In fact, you’ll be hard-pressed to find sugarcane distillate anywhere drenched in as much complexity as this 65.9%-ABV spiced-banana bomb. It’s a 50-50 blend of column spirit, aged for 27 months in ex-bourbon casks, with pot still spirit aged for 19 months in new French oak. Cut it with a splash of water to extend a tobacco and toasted almond-toned finish. Or knock it back neat, if you dare. ($70)

Hampden Great House 2024 Jamaican Rum — $130.Source: Vendor

Jamaica’s holy house of funk never disappoints when it comes to full-bodied expressions, brimming with over-ripened fruit. Although the exact recipe of this annual limited release shifts each year, it invariably involves a blend of rums that epitomize the brand’s signature style. This time around it finds form in a 57%-ABV sipper that wows with an initial wave of marmalade and cranberry relish, revealing more tropical fruit undertones as it warms in the dram. ($130)

Bloomberg: Your Next Investment Bourbon Should Be a Brandy

Illustration by Nico H. Brausch

By Christopher Ross

June 18, 2024 at 6:27 AM UTC

Bourbon collectors, I feel your pain. What was once a niche hobby for booze geeks has become a forbiddingly expensive and competitive endeavor, what with the annual Pappy Van Winkle lotteries (and heist) and secondary markets where a $2,000 bottle of 20-year Eagle Rare can leap to $14,000 in just five years.

Still, if you love the hunt for artisanal, rare spirits, have you considered pivoting from grains to grape? The warmth and woodsy flavors of single-barrel, full-strength cognac and Armagnac can closely resemble the taste of bourbon, at a more attainable price point.

“Folks who’ve had the opportunity to taste these bottles notice, wow, there’s that concentration, that similar profile of combining fruit and structure from the wood,” says Greg Faron, co-founder of new importer Bien Élevé in Washington, DC. Some vintage brandy can compare in flavor to glut-era bourbon, he says, referring to the 1970s-to-early-’90s period when distillers cleared out older, languishing whiskey stock under younger labels.

Bien Élevé joins established importers PM Spirits and Charles Neal Selections—plus upstarts such as Bhakta Spirits, from the founder of WhistlePig whiskey—as part of an expanding network of bottlers and retailers working with aficionados to build a ground floor for collecting these complex liquors.

Their biggest obstacle? The French.

See, when it comes to investment bourbon, what’s most sought-after are single-vintage bottles, ideally single-barrel, bottled at cask strength—offering a premium of intensity and purity and rarity, traceable to a specific location and point in time. But that’s exactly the opposite of how French brandy is traditionally produced.

Distillers at major cognac houses such as Hennessy and Courvoisier believe the beauty of their craft lies in artful blending; they lock up eaux-de-vie (unaged spirit distilled from grapes) from hundreds of growers to do so. There are strict brandy-making rules around grape varietals, distillation and minimum aging time in oak barrels, but blending isn’t actually a prerequisite.

“I’m French, so I can say this: The French feel they are the guardians of a tradition, which makes them not innovate whatsoever,” says PM Spirits founder Nicolas Palazzi, one of the first importers to bring unblended, collector-bait brandy to the US.

The Cognac region, Palazzi says, is particularly disincentivized to put out the kind of artisanal spirits that US buyers are clamoring for. If a producer decides to set aside a barrel for aging as a vintage cognac, a member of the Bureau National Interprofessionnel du Cognac (BNIC) must be present for its sealing. To open that cask for any reason, including if it’s leaking or damaged, they need to pay for another inspector to come out and oversee the breaking of the wax seal.

Moreover, Big Brandy doesn’t see much long-term strategy in single-barrel bottlings, as it’s only able to achieve its current sales volumes by blending spirit from different casks; the ultrapremium $4,000 Rémy Martin Louis XIII may contain as many as 1,200 eaux-de-vie, some as much as a century old. There are precious few growers in Cognac who don’t sell to the mass-market houses.

Steve Ury, a well-known former bourbon blogger, takes a cynical view of the Kentucky gold rush, so he turned his gaze toward France. He says his steadily growing Facebook group, Serious Brandy, now counts more than 3,000 members. He says American buyers have had to train smaller brandy producers to fill that desire gap between collectors and the conglomerates.

“Their first instinct was, you blend everything, you water it down to 40%—that’s what people want,” Ury says. “And we had to go and say, ‘No, that’s not what we want. We want to see those barrels. Just put ’em in a bottle. We don’t need you to do anything else.’ ”

There’s casks all over the place, all over France, sitting in garages and sheds.

Cognac houses Pasquet and Grosperrin are among producers that have gotten the memo, as well as L’Encantada Armagnac, he says, which can be “very bourbon-like. It’s dark and oaky because they don’t do as much treatment to it, they just sort of leave it in the barrel.”

Reid Bechtle, a collector in Virginia, agrees. He was so enchanted when first tasting L’Encantada’s Armagnacs in 2015 that he and fellow members of his private whiskey club—1789b, which buys whole barrels of spirits—foresaw the untapped demand and purchased three on the spot. Now, he says, L’Encantada’s fame has grown, and its small-batch, orange-wax-topped bottles command such a cult following that it’s often impossible to find at retail. “What we used to buy for $60 is now $300.”

For your own collection, this month PM Spirits is releasing a L’Encantada discovery box ($211) featuring 200‑milliliter independent bottlings of brandy distilled by three different domaines over three different decades: 1999, 2001, 2012. Dozens of years in barrel reveal beautiful tertiary aromas of dried citrus, tobacco and resin.

Cognac Frapin, a family-owned producer founded in 1270, focuses mostly on traditional aged blends, but it, too, is coming around, with help from Palazzi. A 1994 vintage released in May is a first for the maison: single-estate, single-cask, full-proof. Balancing the richness of the wood with subtle orchard fruit, vanilla and leather, it costs $265. Only 500 bottles were made.

Similarly, Bien Élevé imported a single-cask 1967 Cognac Lheraud Bons Bois ($640), perfumed with exotic spice and dried figs and elegantly rounded on the palate. “It’s become more of a focus in France, finally, for single-barrel picks,” says Faron, the Bien Élevé co-founder. Just a dozen of the 132 bottles of the Lheraud Bons Bois were allocated to the US.

I wouldn’t be surprised if major producers started earmarking exceptional casks as well, given that collectible, traditional blends have stalled. The compound annual growth rate by volume of ultrapremium-and-above French brandy was down 2% globally from 2018 to 2023, compared with ultrapremium bourbon’s 22% growth, according to IWSR, a global beverage alcohol data specialist.

“With French brandy, the extraordinary and extensive histories—over 700 years for Armagnac alone—and the tremendous ageability of these spirits, arguably far greater than most whiskeys, should mean that the possibilities for finding great spirits are near endless,” says Nima Ansari, a buyer for Astor Wines & Spirits in New York who stocks about 20 bottles of boutique brandy. Cognac can age longer than bourbon or American rye because of a cooler climate and less char on what are usually older, larger barrels.

But the ultimate factor may be the love of the hunt. As in the early days of searching for bourbon “dusties” on liquor store shelves, there’s a sense of undiscovered treasure out there, if you know where to look and strike quickly when opportunities arise.

If a vineyard hasn’t presold all its grapes to a brandy house, some farmers might have their own spirits distilled for consumption among friends and family or as an investment. “Every farm is a potential producer,” Ury says. “There’s casks all over the place, all over France, sitting in garages and sheds.”

In other words, there’s a lot of potential boutique brandy out there—and it’s all rare. Consider: If an importer comes across the private stash of an elderly couple, buys it and releases 170 bottles, it might be all that family farm ever produces.

For collectors who get a thrill from acquiring a truly one-of-a-kind spirit, it’s tough to put a price on those bragging rights. At least for now, though, a couple hundred bucks ought to do it.

Clear as a Bell

These elegant (but electric) digestifs are the perfect pick-me-up, nightcap, and grand finale—all in one glass

BY AMIEL STANEK PHOTOGRAPH BY ISA ZAPATA

Once the dessert forks have been surrendered and everyone swears they couldn’t possibly take even one more bite, a final pour of something special on Thanksgiving just feels right. While I can see the merits of trotting out a bottle of bark-bitter amaro or a mellow bourbon that’s seen a few years in oak, these days I take a different tack. When I want to round out a big meal in style, the choice is clear—a clear spirit, that is. I’m talking about things like eau-de-vie, grappa, mezcal, and clairin. Though these liquors are unique in terms of their geographic origin, composition, and production, they share a brazen character, making them ideal meal-enders. Instead of relying on extensive aging in wood to lend complexity, each spirit tastes unabashedly of the raw materials from which they were distilled and the places where they were made. Heirloom apples. Hand-harvested grapes. Pit-roasted agave. Wild-fermented sugarcane. These idiosyncratic products are as lively and expressive as the day they trickled out of the still; with no time spent in barrels to discipline their rougher edges, flavor has nowhere to hide. And at the end of a rich meal, one sharp sip immediately snaps you back to consciousness, like a cold plunge after a sweaty sauna session.

As is the case with all booze, spirits made with care by small, independent producers are going to be more compelling and often boast a price tag to match. But this is the most special of occasions, after all—when else are you going to break out the good stuff?

CYRIL ZANGS – DOUBLE ZÉRO EAU-DE-VIE DE CIDRE

This bright 100-proof apple brandy is a collaboration between culty Normandy cider maker Cyril Zangs and renowned distillery Calvados Roger Groult. It smells and tastes like a brisk fall stroll through an orchard: ripe fruit, a crisp breeze,

LAURENT CAZOTTES – GOUTTE DE REINE CLAUDE DORÉE

Laurent Cazottes’s eaux-de-vie are the stuff of legend, crafted from small parcels of his own lovingly tended trees and vines. To make this style, Cazottes painstakingly dries and hand-pits greengage plums before fermentation, which yields an extraordinarily concentrated elixir.

CLAIRIN VAVAL RUM

Traditional clairin, perhaps Haiti’s most revered spirit, is rum for mezcal nerds. Made from freshly pressed heritage sugarcane varietals and fermented with no added yeasts, each distillation is a unique expression of terroir. This one, from second-generation producer Fritz Vaval, is sunny and herbaceous, each sip gracefully ping-ponging between delicate flowers and salty funk.

The World Cup of Luxury Spirits: Best Booze of 2022

It’s a global matchup for the titles in best new whiskey, gin, rum, nonalcoholic spirit, digestif and more.

By Brad Japhe
December 16, 2022 at 7:00 AM EST

The World Cup is nearing its end—as is 2022. In service of such, we’re taking a moment to memorialize the best booze of the year. What does liquor have in common with soccer, you may ask? Not a whole lot if you’re watching it live in Qatar. But under usual circumstances, well-crafted spirit, just like the Beautiful Game, is a truly global phenomenon. And just as it’s been a particularly big year for soccer, it’s been for spirits, too, with a plethora of new releases kicking around bottle shops as of late. Over the past 12 months, I sipped my way through more than 150 expressions hailing from roughly 40 different countries. For those keeping score, that’s eight more entries than the total number of national teams qualifying for the World Cup.

For fans of high-end whiskeys, rums, vodkas, gins and more, there’s almost too much to cheer; according to the Distilled Spirits Council of the US, luxury brands increased by 23% in Q2 over that same quarter of 2021. All this is to say, the field is increasingly crowded. Upon careful deliberation and review, I’ve managed to whittle it down to one-on-one matchups for every primary category of spirit, including some zero-proof entrants. But in each draw, it’s up to you to decide which side walks away with the trophy. Let’s get the ball rolling....

Group Gin: Procera Green Dot versus Three Cuts Distiller’s Release Bold Exotic.

Best Gin of 2022

Kenya versus Australia

Procera Green Dot ginWhereas most gins on the market today are made using dried juniper, this Nairobi-based distillery relies on fresh

berries from the native Juniperus procera. Its 94-proof Green Dot ($120) incorporates all parts of the treeincluding the foliage and bark. The resulting liquid offers a pine-forward nose, typical to the category, but itwarms the mouth with earthiness and a tickle of umami on the finish. It exists as that rarest of breeds: a sippinggin. Presented in a mouth-blown decanter of recycled glass, this gin exudes uniqueness inside and out.

Group Rum: Papalin Jamaica 7 Years Old versus Andrés Brugal.

Best Rum of 2022

Jamaica versus Dominican Republic

Papalin Jamaica 7 Years Old rumThis assertive banana-bomb from esteemed independent bottler Velier marks a melodious merger of twolegendary producers from opposite ends of the Caribbean island. High-ester rum from Hampden and Worthy

Park were pot-distilled and matured in their respective distilleries and warehouses before being combined into awhole greater than the sum of its parts, at about $60 a bottle. Ripened tropical fruit is on full display, and yet athoughtful balance to the blend precludes the finish from overplaying its funk.

Group Brandy: Pierre Frapin Cuvée Rabelais versus Suyo No. 1.

Best Brandy of 2022

France versus Peru

Pierre Frapin Cuvée Rabelais cognacThe Frapin family has been crafting cognac in the Charente Valley since the 13th century. Today their estateconsists of 600 acres worth of vines in the grande Champagne cru. Eau-de-vie distilled from this region is

especially well-suited for lengthy aging, as this collectible $13,000 release convincingly demonstrates. It containsliquids that are 100 years old, and yet the XO exerts a spry vitality, pirouetting across the tongue with brightcandied orange and stewed apricot. The mahogany liquid decants gracefully from a gold-necked vessel, craftedby the oldest glass manufacturer in France, Cristallerie Saint-Louis.