Papargyriou Winery — The Emperor 2021

Yiannis Papargyriou is known in the Greek wine scene for powerful, concentrated red wines – wines whose high extract and sweetness don't equally enthuse everyone. The Le Roi des Montagnes Syrah, for instance, divides opinion, even though we gave the 2020 vintage a strong 93+ points. The Cuvée Espérance 2021, a single-varietal Montepulciano, also convinced us with 92+ points. The Emperor, the estate's new flagship, is a different animal altogether. 2021 is the first vintage – and it will only be produced in exceptional years. The next one, 2023, is expected to hit the market toward the end of 2026.

The key specs read ambitiously: 95% Merlot, 5% Cabernet Franc, 15% alcohol, PGI Korinthia, only around 2,170 bottles. The details are where it gets really interesting. The grapes come from the Rethi / Megalo Livadi site at roughly 800 to 850 meters elevation – by far the highest-altitude vineyard in this entire tasting. Galatrona, Hatzimichalis, and Lacules all sit between 300 and 350 meters; the Emperor comes from more than double that height. The roughly 20-year-old vines grow on heavy clay-loam soil. Harvesting is done by hand, at the end of September, at full phenolic ripeness.

In the cellar, a process that also stands out in this lineup: spontaneous fermentation with indigenous yeasts, 30 days of maceration with manual pigeage – significantly longer than the other wines – and 20 percent saignée, meaning the bleeding off of juice before fermentation to further increase concentration. And a real surprise when it comes to oak aging: while Hatzimichalis works with 100 percent new barriques and Lacules with 70 percent new oak, Papargyriou opts for 500-liter barrels in second use, followed by 1,700-liter large-format casks – 18 months total, but without any new small oak. The wine with the greatest power and concentration in this tasting thus has the most restrained oak regime. That's no coincidence but a deliberate choice: the density is meant to come from the grape, not the barrel. Bottling is done unfiltered.

The available analytical data explain why. 7.4 g/l total acidity at pH 3.29 – values that are in a completely different league from the other wines here. The Galatrona sits at 5.89 g/l and pH 3.56, the Hatzimichalis at 5.8 g/l. The Emperor thus has by far the highest acidity and the lowest pH in this tasting – while simultaneously having the highest alcohol. It's precisely this combination that explains what you immediately sense in the glass: despite 15% alcohol, the wine never feels heavy, never cloying, never flabby.

I had already tasted the Emperor in autumn 2023, shortly after its market release, and gave it 95+ points at the time. Back then, blackberry and vanilla were still very much in the foreground, and the tertiary aromas could only be guessed at. Now, in February 2025, the picture is different. On the nose, very fine but not overripe raspberry, plus a hint of blackberry and some seaweed that brings freshness without tipping into heavy iodine. It's reminiscent of Pomerol – but nothing in Pomerol that I know is this electrifying. On the palate, in both aromatics and tannin, anything but delicate: a true powerhouse. Incredible fruit sweetness on the attack, but then the impression is shaped by a remarkably refreshing acidity – hard to fathom at 15% alcohol. With plenty of oxygen, really plenty of oxygen, the wine reveals a cooler character and hints at where the journey is headed.

From 95+ points in 2024, I'm now moving up to 96+ points – and there's still plenty of room upward. Unfortunately, I've already opened far too many bottles; the wine makes it hard to hold back. But one should, and give it time. From the very limited production, bottles are still available in Germany through Wine and Nature for around 60 euros – for a wine of this caliber, an almost absurd price.

That the Emperor, despite this quality, hasn't left the stunning first impression it deserved with many people is, in my view, because it came to market at least two years too early. This restraint shouldn't be offloaded onto consumers – not everyone has properly tempered wine cellars, and the restaurant trade pulls corks far too early anyway. One should give this wine at least three years after harvest.

Can the Emperor dethrone the Lacules Estate Merlot 2018 – until now my benchmark for the best Greek Merlot? The 2018 remains the reference: 96 points, exotic, smoky, complete in itself. The Emperor is a completely different wine: it impresses not through weight but through harnessed power. The Peloponnese now has two outstanding Merlots that could hardly be more different – and that is perhaps the real story.