It is with deep sadness that I learn of Steven Spurrier’s passing. I didn’t know Steven well, but we met a few times, and he has always been the greatest inspiration to me.
I first met him at the annual Beaujolais tasting, which I used to organise while working with Westbury Communications, my first job in the London wine trade. Steven really, really loved Beaujolais, singing the region’s praises. He would taste every wine in the room with a smile on his face, taking careful notes in his notebook. Of course, he achieved more in his lifetime than most of us can dream of achieving—a celebrity in the wine world—but he was so humble. He would always send us very kind follow-up messages, thanking us politely for the opportunity to taste the wines, and commenting on some of his favourites. Not many people write thank you notes these days, but Steven always did. He was such a gentleman.
When I first spoke with him at our Beaujolais Cru focus tasting in 2017 at Dvine Cellars, he told me tales of his road trips through the region in the 60s with glistening eyes and a big, wistful smile. I noticed then that he smiled with his eyes when he spoke about wine. He spoke not of winemaking technicalities, but rather about how the wines made him feel; the emotions and the memories they evoked. It was captivating to listen to him; here was a man who truly loved wine.
Steven Spurrier at the Cru Beaujolais tasting in 2017
Pascaline Lepeltier & Steven Spurrier
It was also a very open-minded love; one without judgement or preconceptions.
In 2019, at my last tasting with Westbury, we poured several wines and pét-nats from the likes of Riesling and Cabernet Franc, but also from the vitis Labrusca x vitis Vinifera varieties found in New York State. Steven met Pascaline Lepeltier to taste her Chëpìka pét-nats produced from the varieties Catawba and Delaware.
While the wines made with ‘hybrid’ varieties like these have often been frowned upon by the traditional wine press, that was not the case for Steven. In fact, his reaction was the polar opposite. He swirled his glass in that slow, methodical way of his, and tasted and listened to Pascaline with joyous fascination, nodding enthusiastically and attentively.
Afterwards, he said to me,
“My goodness. What a revelation. Such interesting and delightful wines!”
I beamed in agreement; here was someone else who shared my passion for these unusual, intriguing flavours and embraced them for their uniqueness and individuality.
A month later, it was almost my five-year anniversary at Westbury. I had loved my time working there, but had decided to pursue my lifelong dream of being a writer. I plucked up the courage to email him to ask if we could meet to discuss the world of wine writing. He so kindly took me to lunch at 67 Pall Mall, & we spoke about the joys of wine. He listened to my ambitions for what would become LITTLEWINE, and he encouraged me. I asked him about his own journey; what had inspired him when he’d just been starting out, and what inspired him now? He said,
“Wine is a kaleidoscope. You look into it once and you can never go back to that moment. It always changes.”
He had such a poetic way of speaking about wine. This particular sentence made me smile, and I have it saved on my phone to always look back at. It summarised Steven’s humble approach to wine exploration and explained why his enthusiasm never waned. He was forever chasing those new beams of light cast by the kaleidoscope of wine, and storing the new memories that came with them.
When we said our goodbyes after that lunch, he wished me luck and said,
“It was lovely to see you and hear of your plans. How good to be 27 years old!”
I went on a walk today and sat down in an open field, and cried. It’s been one of those quintessential English spring days; perpetual blue skies, daffodils and birdsong. As I click the button to publish this, it has just turned 6pm and it’s still not dark. It’s been the sort of day that embodies Steven; a spring day in memory of a springlike person. He was 27 years old, too—at heart and in spirit.
Sitting in that field, I thought about why he was so important to me. I realised it was because he had an unparalleled positive energy; the sort of vibrational energy that you can’t help but be affected by if you share the same passion. The way he spoke about those Beaujolais wines the first time I met him set something alight deep in my belly. Part of the reason I love wine so much today is due to Steven’s love for wine. It was utterly infectious, and his words of encouragement gave me confidence to do what I do today. It meant so much to me.
He will be missed by so many of us. We owe it to Steven to spread his unconditional love for wine far and wide, so that others may come to love wine as much as he did, too.
With Steven in 2018 getting my copy of ‘Steven Spurrier — Wine, a Way of Life’ signed