The Flea Market Steiner, the Fashion Man & the Lees That Became a House
Maison en Belles Lies is the biodynamic Burgundy estate of Pierre Fenals — a man who has lived enough lives for several people. A molecular biologist and biochemist by training, he became a successful Parisian fashion executive, heading marketing departments of major houses, before selling his company in 2001 at the age of 51 and starting again from zero in Burgundy. The catalyst was a Rudolf Steiner book on biodynamics, found at a Parisian flea market — a chance encounter that rerouted his entire existence. After stints with Anne-Claude Leflaive, Trapet, Lapierre, and four formative years as régisseur for Emmanuel Giboulot, Fenals purchased his first 2.5 hectares in 2002 in Maranges and the Hautes-Côtes de Beaune, and in 2009 established Maison en Belles Lies in a chilly warehouse outside Saint-Aubin. Today he tends 7 hectares across ten appellations — half owned, half rented — from Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru and Aloxe-Corton to Monthélie, Santenay, Maranges 1er Cru and the Hautes-Côtes. The name pays tribute to 17th-century monks who dried their barrels and rubbed them with lees — a practice Fenals has elevated to a philosophy. His wines are crystalline, digeste, and impossibly pure: whites aged in old 350-litre barrels with no bâtonnage, reds whole-bunch fermented with no active extraction, and across the range no fining, no filtration, and sulphur only when absolutely necessary. A scientist who embraced alternative farming without dogma, Fenals is one of the most fascinating vignerons in modern Burgundy — and his Aligoté, in the words of one critic, is simply "monumental."
The Biochemist, the Flea Market Steiner & the 51-Year-Old Leap
Pierre Fenals was never meant to be a vigneron — or rather, he was meant to be too many other things first. Born in Algeria, he arrived in France with a formidable intellect and a degree in molecular biology, which he parlayed into a career as a biochemist and physiologist. But science, for all its rigour, could not contain him. He pivoted to the fashion industry, where he rose to head marketing departments for major Parisian houses — a world of cloth and commerce as far from the vine as one could imagine. And yet wine had always been a passion, a private obsession that grew louder as the years passed. In 2001, at the age of 51, he sold his company and made the leap.
The turning point was almost absurd in its serendipity: a Rudolf Steiner book on biodynamic farming, picked up on a whim at a Parisian flea market. Fenals read it, was captivated, and began attending biodynamics courses while applying the principles as a hobby on his family farm in the Cantal. By the time he enrolled in viticulture and oenology in Beaune and Dijon, the path was set. His internships were a masterclass in natural winemaking: Anne-Claude Leflaive and Jean-Louis Trapet in the Côte d'Or, Marcel Lapierre in Morgon (where he befriended Matthieu Lapierre, his classmate), and even a stint at a cooperative to understand the industry's every facet. But it was the four years with Emmanuel Giboulot that shaped him most — years in which he gained Giboulot's trust, became the domaine's régisseur, and was given the freedom to express himself in both vineyard and cellar.
In 2002, Fenals purchased his first 2.5 hectares in Maranges and the Hautes-Côtes de Beaune. In 2009, he set up shop in a chilly warehouse just outside Saint-Aubin and created Maison en Belles Lies — the name a tribute to those 17th-century monks who understood, before anyone else, that lees were not waste but wisdom. The estate has since expanded to 7 hectares across ten appellations, with holdings in Meursault, Monthélie, Santenay, Saint-Aubin, Aloxe-Corton, and the legendary Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru. The biochemist who became a fashion man who became a vigneron — three lives, one unifying thread: an obsession with understanding how things work, and the courage to start over when they stop working for you.
"My wish is that my wines, white and red, still smell of grapes, impregnated with their fresh scent after 14, 18, 20 months élevage."
— Pierre Fenals, Maison en Belles Lies
Saint-Aubin's Cold Warehouse, Corton's Grand Cru & the Hautes-Côtes Plateau
The Maison en Belles Lies map is a deliberate cross-section of the Côte de Beaune — from the highest, coolest sites to some of the most hallowed ground in Burgundy. The winery itself sits in a chilly warehouse just outside Saint-Aubin, a village wedged between Puligny-Montrachet and Chassagne-Montrachet, where the limestone marls and cooler temperatures give whites of crystalline precision. From this base, Fenals tends 7 hectares spread across ten appellations — half owned, half rented — each chosen for its capacity to express something true under conditions of minimal intervention.
The farming is biodynamic and permaculture, practiced with the meticulousness of a scientist and the intuition of a convert. The vines are mostly from qualitative massal selections, 50 years and older, naturally low-yielding and woven rather than trimmed — a technique that preserves the shoot apex and avoids plant stress, producing small, dense, balanced grapes. Many of the herbs and plants used in biodynamic preparations are harvested in the vicinity of the vineyards; others — arnica, wormwood, yarrow — are picked and dried in the Alps, where Fenals keeps a cabin. Weather permitting, vineyard and cellar work is paced by lunar cycles: reds are harvested when the moon is rising, and cuvaison lasts a full lunar cycle of 29 to 30 days. The ecological equilibrium of his vineyards is among the most biodiverse in the region — a living system that the biochemist in Fenals understands down to its microbial level.
The holdings read like a Burgundy lover's dream list. In the Hautes-Côtes de Beaune, at 320 metres altitude, lies the Aligoté parcel at Les Genouvrées Au Sud — the first vineyard Fenals ever owned, surrounded by fallow land and forest, with beehives and fruit trees interplanted among 50-year-old vines on white, stony, fossil-rich terre blanche. In Meursault, 50-to-60-year-old Chardonnay grows on deep alluvial soils of sand and clayey silt. In Monthélie, a tiny 0.40-hectare parcel of Chardonnay sits high on a southeast-facing slope of terre blanche — one of the rarest white expressions of this red-dominated village. Santenay's Les Saunières gives iron-laced, red-marl Chardonnay at the bottom of a coteau. And then there is the crown: Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru, from gnarled 85-year-old vines in the true heartland of Le Charlemagne, on white marl with small chalky stones over hard limestone — a site that yields, in Fenals' hands, just two barrels of wine that critics call "one of the finest white Burgundies" they have tasted. On the red side, Aloxe-Corton's Les Caillettes (60–65-year-old vines), Maranges 1er Cru Les Clos Roussots (60+ years), and the Hautes-Côtes Pinot at Les Chataigniers (50 years) complete the picture.
Two barrels from 85-year-old vines in the lieu-dit of Le Charlemagne, the true heartland of this legendary appellation. Southwest-facing slope, white marl with small chalky stones overlying hard limestone. Fermentation ticks along slowly in fûts from 2010 and 2014, followed by 18 months of élevage — longer than the rest of the range, because this climat, Fenals has found, benefits from patience. The result is a wine of style and race, density and finesse, with a limpid quality and marked salinity that places it among the finest white Burgundies being made today. A scientist's precision applied to a monk's terroir.
The first vineyard Pierre Fenals ever owned — a remote plot along the road from La Rochepot down to Saint-Aubin, surrounded by fallow land and forest. At 320 metres altitude on the Hautes-Côtes plateau, the soil is white terre blanche of medium depth, stony and fossil-rich — perfectly suited to Aligoté doré. Pierre planted fruit trees and settled beehives among the 50-year-old vines, creating a biodiverse oasis. Aged 14 months in 30% stainless steel and 70% old 350-litre barrels, this Aligoté has been called "monumental" — exotic white flowers, key lime, honeycomb, herbs, and a mouthwatering acidity that wipes the slate clean with each sip. The wine that proves Aligoté is not a second-class citizen.
Half a hectare of vines over 60 years old, planted in a mix of clay and chalky marls in the Maranges 1er Cru. Made from whole bunches with no active extraction, aged in 3-to-7-year-old fûts, and bottled without sulphur. The wine has "a lot of class" — perfumed and racy on the nose, structured and perfectly pitched, with delectable black fruits and a saline freshness. A judicious match to game meat and creamy sauces, but equally at home with simple roast chicken. The red that shows Fenals is as gifted with Pinot as he is with Chardonnay — one of the few Burgundian growers equally adept at both colours.
Fenals' approach to biodynamics is that of a scientist who has embraced the mystical without surrendering his critical faculties. Vines are woven rather than trimmed to preserve the shoot apex. Harvests are timed to the lunar cycle — reds when the moon is rising, with cuvaison lasting a full 29-to-30-day lunar cycle. Preparations use herbs from the vineyard margins and the Alps: arnica, wormwood, yarrow, dried at his mountain cabin. The result is not a laboratory of biodynamic orthodoxy but a living, observed system — one where the biochemist and the mystic coexist, and where the vineyard's ecological equilibrium is allowed to speak for itself. "A scientist at heart who has been open-minded enough to embrace an alternative way of farming whilst steering away from dogma."
The Lees Coat, the Frozen Lees Fining & the 1.5-Gram Hand
The Maison en Belles Lies cellar is a marriage of biochemistry and monastic tradition. The name itself — "beautiful lees" — derives from a practice developed by 17th-century monks who dried their barrels and rubbed them with lees from the vintage. Fenals has taken this ancient technique and made it the cornerstone of his entire philosophy. After racking, he coats the inside of every barrel with fine lees before filling them again — "it informs and protects the young wine," he explains. He also uses frozen lees from the previous vintage to fine and clarify the wines towards the end of élevage: old lees from a particular parcel are warmed and added to the wine from the same plot, a kind of homeopathic self-fining that replaces conventional clarification with the wine's own memory. The result is wines of unusual clarity and digestibility — crystalline, pure, and alive.
The whites are made with direct press, spontaneous fermentation in old oak with indigenous yeasts, and aged 14 to 20 months in 350-litre or 500-litre barrels of 7 to 10 years — no new oak, no bâtonnage, no lees stirring. The larger format and neutral wood preserve freshness and terroir expression; the long élevage builds complexity without weight. The Bourgogne Blanc from Meursault sees 15 months in 350-litre fûts and is bottled with just 15mg/l of sulphur; the Aligoté is split between stainless steel and old barrels for 14 months, also with 15mg/l at bottling. The Corton-Charlemagne spends 18 months in older fûts, with no sulphur added at all. Across the range, the wines are neither fined nor filtered — except by their own lees.
The reds follow a path of radical gentleness. Whole bunches are fermented with no active extraction, no punching down, no pumping over — just time, gravity, and the lunar cycle. The cuvaison lasts a full 29 to 30 days, allowing the stems to lend their floral, spicy character without harsh tannin. There is no racking during élevage, which means no sulphur is needed — the reductive environment of the lees-protected barrel keeps the wine stable and pure. The Maranges 1er Cru, Aloxe-Corton, and Hautes-Côtes de Beaune reds are all made this way, aged in neutral oak and bottled with zero or minimal sulphur. Fenals even insists on fire-branded corks rather than ink-stamped ones, believing that ink influences the flavours. It is a level of detail that borders on the obsessive — and the wines are all the better for it.
Lees as Life, Reduction as Protection — The Fenals Method
The guiding principle of Maison en Belles Lies is that lees are not waste but wisdom — the living sediment that protects, nourishes, and clarifies wine without chemical intervention. After racking, barrels are coated inside with fine lees before refilling, creating a protective skin for the young wine. Frozen lees from the previous vintage are thawed and used to fine and clarify the current vintage — a self-referential system where the wine cleans itself. Whites ferment spontaneously in old 350L barrels, rest 14–20 months without bâtonnage, and emerge crystalline and grape-scented. Reds ferment whole-bunch for a full lunar cycle with no extraction, no racking, and no sulphur, drawing their structure from stems and time rather than force. No fining. No filtration. No new oak. Just lees, lunar cycles, and the accumulated precision of a man who understands wine at the molecular level — and chooses to let it be.
Aligoté, Corton-Charlemagne, L'Étrange & the Crystalline Hand
The Maison en Belles Lies portfolio is Burgundy viewed through a biodynamic kaleidoscope — ten appellations, multiple grape varieties, and a range that spans from the most accessible Bourgogne to one of the greatest Grand Crus on earth. What unites them is Fenals' signature: crystalline purity, lees-driven texture, and an unmistakable scent of fresh grapes that persists even after 18 or 20 months of élevage. The whites are direct-pressed, fermented in old oak, aged without bâtonnage, and bottled with minimal or zero sulphur. The reds are whole-bunch, gently extracted, and aged in neutral barrels. All are unfined and unfiltered. All smell of the vine.
The Three Lives, the Lees Memory & the 17th-Century Monk
Maison en Belles Lies is the rare Burgundian estate that is impossible to categorise. It is not a family inheritance, though it honours monastic tradition. It is not a young rebel's project, though it embraces natural winemaking. It is the work of a man who has been a scientist, a fashion executive, and a vigneron — three lives that converge in a chilly warehouse outside Saint-Aubin, where biochemistry meets biodynamics and the result is wine of startling clarity. Pierre Fenals is, in the words of one importer, "simply one of the most fascinating vignerons we have met" — not because he is eccentric or provocative, but because he has lived enough to know what matters, and humble enough to let the wine speak for itself.
The legacy is one of intellectual courage. At 51, Fenals walked away from a successful career to start again at the bottom of the wine ladder — studying, interning, buying humble parcels in Maranges and the Hautes-Côtes. He did not inherit Corton-Charlemagne; he earned it, parcel by parcel, vintage by vintage, until he found himself making two barrels from 85-year-old vines in one of Burgundy's most hallowed sites. The journey from flea-market Steiner to Grand Cru vigneron is not a straight line, and Fenals would be the first to say that luck played its part. But luck favours the prepared, and the biochemist who understood lees at the molecular level before he ever made wine was uniquely prepared to turn an ancient monastic practice into a modern philosophy.
The future of Maison en Belles Lies is one of steady, observant growth. The remaining hectares are cultivated with the same care as the Grand Cru; the Aligoté continues to convert sceptics; the reds prove that whole-bunch, zero-sulphur Pinot can be both serious and digestible. Fenals is not chasing scores or scarcity — he is chasing grape scent, that impossible ideal of wines that still smell of fresh fruit after 20 months in barrel. It is an ideal that requires patience, precision, and a deep respect for the living systems that make wine possible. From the cold warehouse in Saint-Aubin, through the ten appellations and the seven hectares, to the glass in your hand, Maison en Belles Lies is a reminder that the best wines are made not by force but by understanding — and that sometimes, the most important book you will ever read is the one you find by accident at a flea market.
"Maison En Belle Lies' wines are imbued with the character of the terroirs they are from, they are incredibly digeste with a crystalline quality that makes you reach for another sip, time and time again."
— Vinetrail, on Maison en Belles Lies