The Smile in the Glass, the Ancient Clos & the Brother-in-Law's Hand

Maxime Troncy was born into a Beaujolais winemaking family — but not the kind that makes natural wine. His father ran a conventional estate, the sort that had always farmed with chemicals, always made wine the way his father had, and always sold through the established channels. In 2013, something shifted. Maxime's father entrusted him with 10 hectares — a significant slice of the family holding — with a single, radical condition: farm them without chemicals. It was a bold shift from generations of convention, a father's gamble on his son's vision, and the birth of what would become Les Souriants.

Maxime began quietly, learning the vines, building trust in the organic approach, and — crucially — selling grapes to Julien Altaber, the Saint-Aubin vigneron and natural wine figure whose discerning palate gave Troncy early validation. The wines from those first years were made in small quantities, shared among friends, poured at local bars, and slowly found their way into the hands of natural wine importers who recognised something genuine: classic Beaujolais freshness, fruit-driven clarity, and an unmistakable joyfulness — wines made to be enjoyed and shared, not analysed and cellared. The domaine was certified organic in 2018 (Ecocert), a formal confirmation of what had been practice from the start.

In 2021, the project took its current shape. Maxime partnered with Damien Polosse, his brother-in-law, and together they expanded the estate to 18 hectares — two-thirds already certified organic, the rest in transition. The name "Les Souriants" — the smiling ones — was chosen to reflect the spirit of the project: "authentic wines, of pleasure and sharing, for the conviviality and the smile of those who drink them." It is a name that sounds almost naive until you taste the wines and understand that the smile is not marketing; it is the natural consequence of fruit farmed with care, fermented without interference, and bottled without pretension. Two brothers-in-law, one ancient clos, and a simple idea: wine should make people happy.

The Les Souriants cellar is a place of radical simplicity. The guiding principle is that good fruit, picked at the right moment, needs very little help to become good wine. In vinification, no inputs are used — no enzymes, no commercial yeasts, no tannins, no corrections. The addition of sulphites is carried out only if there is a real need, and even then at minimal levels. The wines are neither fined nor filtered, leaving them with the slight haze and living texture that natural wine drinkers recognise as authenticity. It is a hands-off approach that requires hands-on attention: every tank is tasted daily, every fermentation monitored, every decision made by palate rather than protocol.

The reds are made with carbonic maceration — the classic Beaujolais technique that Maxime and Damien have embraced wholeheartedly. Whole bunches are loaded into tank, and the intracellular fermentation that follows gives the wines their signature bright fruit, low tannin, and joyful drinkability. The maceration is typically six days — long enough to extract colour and aroma, short enough to preserve freshness and avoid over-extraction. For the "Allegresse" cuvée, a different path is taken: 50% direct press, 50% six-day maceration, creating a lighter, more ethereal wine that sits somewhere between rosé and red. The "Galipet" — 80% Gamay direct press, 20% Gewürztraminer macerated seven days on skins — is the estate's most adventurous wine, a skin-contact pink that defies categorisation.

The through-line is pleasure over prestige. These are not wines made to impress critics or age for decades; they are wines made to be opened at lunch, shared with friends, and finished before the conversation ends. The carbonic maceration keeps them approachable, the minimal sulphur keeps them alive, and the absence of fining and filtration keeps them honest. As one taster noted of the "Sourire de Nouveau," it is "richly coloured, extractive, thickly primary" — a wine that arrives with its sleeves rolled up, ready to work the room. And work the room it does: Les Souriants has become a staple of natural wine bars from Paris to New York, not because it is rare or expensive, but because it is genuinely, irresistibly fun.

Les Souriants is the story of a father's gamble and a family's evolution. In 2013, Maxime Troncy's father did something that few conventional Beaujolais growers would have countenanced: he handed 10 hectares to his son and told him to farm them without chemicals. It was a leap of faith — from one generation to the next, from convention to questioning, from the known to the unknown. That gamble has paid off in ways that go beyond the bottle. The estate is now 18 hectares, two-thirds certified organic, with a reputation for joyful, authentic natural wines that has spread from Lantignié to Paris, London, New York, and beyond. The father's trust became the son's vocation, and the son's vocation became a shared project with his brother-in-law.

The partnership with Damien Polosse in 2021 brought new energy and new scale. Where Maxime had been working alone, now there were two — two perspectives, two pairs of hands, two smiles behind the label. The name Les Souriants, chosen at this moment of expansion, encapsulates the spirit of the project: wine as a social act, a shared pleasure, a reason to gather. In a natural wine world that can sometimes take itself too seriously — all reduction and funk and intellectual posturing — Les Souriants offers something refreshingly uncomplicated: wines that taste good, make you feel good, and bring people together. The smile is not an afterthought; it is the entire point.

The future is one of steady, sustainable growth. The remaining third of the vineyard is in organic conversion; new cuvées emerge as the vines age and the winemakers experiment; and the reputation continues to build through word of mouth, bar placements, and the kind of grassroots enthusiasm that no marketing budget can buy. Les Souriants is not trying to be the next cult Beaujolais; it is trying to be the bottle you reach for when you want to remember why you love wine. From the ancient clos of Lantignié, through the granite and the Gamay, to the glass in your hand — the smile travels a long way. And it is only getting wider.