The Nantes Invasion & the Parian Light

The story of Domaine Myrsini begins not on Paros but in Nantes, in the Loire Valley of western France — a region of long viticultural tradition, of Muscadet and Cabernet Franc, of restaurants and riverside life. Nicolas Bourget was a seasoned chef and restaurateur; Marie-Astrid Bourget was a teacher. For ten years they pursued their respective careers in hospitality and education, building a life in the city they loved. But in 2019, just before the onset of the global pandemic that would soon transform the world, they made a decision that would alter the course of their lives: they would leave their beloved region, their restaurant, their professional security, and relocate with their two daughters to the island of Paros in the Cyclades — a place they had come to love, and where they would dedicate themselves to promoting the viticultural wealth of one of Greece's most historically significant yet underappreciated wine islands.

The move was not merely a change of address but a change of vocation — from serving wine in a restaurant to producing it from the vine, from teaching in a classroom to learning the ancient craft of viticulture in a new landscape. Nicolas brought to the project the sensibility of a chef: an understanding of flavour, texture, and balance; a respect for ingredients and the people who produce them; a conviction that the best food and wine are those that express their origin with minimal interference. Marie-Astrid brought the organisational rigour and intellectual curiosity of a teacher: the ability to research, to plan, to communicate, and to build the networks of collaboration that a small island winery requires. Together, they arrived on Paros in 2020 with a vision that was at once deeply French — rooted in the natural wine culture of the Loire, in the belief that wine should be honest, alive, and expressive of its terroir — and profoundly Greek, in its commitment to the indigenous varieties, the old vines, and the rugged landscape of the Cyclades.

The first vines were planted in 2020 — 1.4 hectares near the villages of Marpissa and Thapsani, on the eastern side of the island, where the soils are a mosaic of granite, gneiss, limestone, and marble, and where the Aegean Sea is never far from view. But the Bourgets understood from the outset that 1.4 hectares would not be enough to sustain a winery of the ambition they envisioned — not merely in volume but in the range of expressions they wished to explore. They began sourcing old-vine parcels to rent in the mountainous interior of Paros, collaborating with small farmers who had been practicing herbicide and pesticide-free cultivation for years, and who possessed vines of extraordinary age and genetic authenticity — some of them trained in the traditional aplotaria style, the low bush vines that have been the signature of Cycladic viticulture for millennia, shaped by the persistent meltemi winds into gnarled, ground-hugging forms that look more like ancient sculptures than agricultural plants. These collaborations — part rental, part partnership, part viticultural archaeology — allowed the Bourgets to expand their range beyond their own young vines, to work with fruit from 25-year-old Vilana, 150-year-old Mandilaria, and other ancient plantings that carry the accumulated memory of Parian viticulture in their trunks and roots.

The inaugural vintage of Domaine Myrsini came in 2021 — a year that would establish the parameters of everything that followed. Three white wines and one red, all exclusively sourced from manually harvested grapes on the island of Paros, all vinified with the same philosophy that the Bourgets had brought from Nantes: indigenous yeasts, spontaneous fermentation, no commercial enzymes or additives, no fining, no filtration, and only a homeopathic dose of sulfur added at bottling. The wines were bottled by gravity in the spring following harvest, preserving the natural stability and purity that the Bourgets believed was the essence of Parian terroir. The response — from local restaurants, from natural wine shops in Athens and beyond, from importers in Europe and Japan — confirmed what the Bourgets had sensed from the beginning: that Paros, with its ancient viticultural heritage, its diverse geology, its maritime climate, and its indigenous varieties, had the potential to produce wines of extraordinary character and authenticity, and that a French couple with a chef's palate and a teacher's rigour could be the ones to reveal that potential to the world.

The winemaking at Domaine Myrsini is governed by a philosophy that is at once deeply French — rooted in the natural wine culture of the Loire Valley, in the belief that wine should be honest, alive, and expressive of its terroir — and profoundly Greek, in its commitment to the indigenous varieties, the old vines, and the rugged landscape of Paros. All fermentations occur with spontaneous, indigenous yeasts — the natural microbial populations that live on the grape skins, in the vineyard environment, and in the small cellar — with no commercial inoculation, no selected yeasts, and no chemical additives. This wild fermentation is the most ancient form of winemaking, and it produces wines of greater complexity, greater individuality, and greater connection to place than commercial cultures can achieve. But at Myrsini, it is not merely a romantic gesture of anti-modernism; it is a deliberate choice grounded in Nicolas Bourget's experience as a chef — his understanding that the best flavours come not from manipulation but from allowing ingredients to express their natural character, and that the microbial life of a place is as much a part of its terroir as its soil, its climate, and its geology. The result is wine that is pure, alive, and unmistakably Parian — wine that carries the full imprint of the grape, the native yeast, and the Cycladic wind and stone.

The zero-additive, minimal-sulfur approach that defines the Myrsini production is not merely a stylistic choice but a fundamental ethical position — the practical application of the Bourgets' belief that wine should be an expression of the vineyard and nothing more, and that every addition, every correction, every technological intervention moves the wine further from its origin and closer to a generic, global standard. The estate uses no commercial enzymes, no artificial flavour corrections, no fining agents, no sterile filtration — the wines are bottled unfined and unfiltered, preserving the natural texture, the lees-derived complexity, and the living microbiology that conventional processing strips away. Sulfur is added only at bottling, and then only in a "homeopathic dose" — a quantity so small that it functions more as a philosophical gesture than a chemical preservative, a nod to the practical realities of transport and storage without compromising the wine's natural vitality. This approach requires immaculate vineyard hygiene, perfectly healthy fruit, spotless cellar practices, and a willingness to accept the risk of variability that low-sulfur, unfiltered winemaking entails. The wines may evolve unpredictably in bottle; they may develop unexpected characters; they demand careful storage and attentive drinking. But they offer an experience of wine at its most honest, its most alive, and its most transparent — an experience that no technically perfect, commercially optimized wine can provide.

The vessel programme at Myrsini is deliberately simple and deliberately appropriate to the scale and style of the wines — a combination of stainless steel tanks, concrete eggs, and old oak barrels that provides the tools necessary for expression without imposing external character. Whites like the Fotinos Monemvasia are fermented in tank after destemming and vertical pressing, then rested on their fine lees in a combination of stainless steel and one concrete egg — the lees contact adding body, texture, and a subtle creaminess, while the concrete egg's ovoid shape encourages natural convection and lees suspension, creating a wine of unusual textural harmony and mineral clarity. The Ammos Assyrtiko is direct-pressed and fermented entirely in stainless steel, where it ages on its fine lees — the steel providing a neutral environment that preserves the variety's natural salinity, citrus intensity, and mineral backbone without competing with the grape's character. The Kelifos Monemvasia, from higher-altitude, north-facing vineyards that ripen three weeks later than the Fotinos parcels, is fermented spontaneously in stainless steel and then aged in amphora — the clay vessel allowing gentle oxygen exchange without wood influence, creating a wine of pure, unmediated terroir expression that captures the cooler, more mineral character of the mountain parcels. Reds like the Nees Rizes are fermented in separate lots — Mandilaria with partial whole-cluster or semi-carbonic maceration, Vaftra destemmed — then aged in neutral oak before blending, creating a wine that combines the structural intensity and peppery spice of Mandilaria with the aromatic complexity and balancing freshness of Vaftra. The Kyklops Vilana pet-nat is fermented in stainless steel and then bottled before fermentation finishes, completing its effervescence in bottle and hand-disgorged — the ancestral method that produces gentle, natural bubbles without dosage or disgorgement, capturing the fresh, citric, honeyed character of the Vilana variety in its most joyful, most immediate form. The Skaros rosé is gently pressed into tank and left on its lees for seven months — an extraordinarily long lees contact for a rosé that adds texture, depth, and a subtle creaminess to the wine's bright fruit character. In every case, the vessel is chosen not to impose a style but to reveal a terroir — to allow the specific character of each parcel, each variety, each vintage to express itself with the clarity and transparency that the Bourgets believe is the essence of natural winemaking.

The gravity bottling that characterises the Myrsini production is a final expression of the estate's commitment to minimal intervention — a rejection of the pumps, the filtration systems, and the mechanical processing that conventional wineries employ to move wine from tank to bottle. By bottling by gravity, the Bourgets avoid the oxidation, the shear stress, and the flavour disruption that pumping can cause, preserving the natural stability, the delicate aromatics, and the textural integrity that define their wines. The wines are generally bottled in the spring following harvest — a relatively short ageing period that preserves the fresh, immediate character of the fruit while allowing the natural microbial processes of fermentation and lees contact to develop complexity and depth. This is not wine for extended cellaring — though some cuvées, particularly those from old vines and higher-altitude parcels, will undoubtedly evolve beautifully with time — but wine for drinking now, for enjoying with food, for sharing with friends, for experiencing the immediate, vital connection between the vineyard and the glass that the Bourgets believe is the purpose of natural winemaking. The Domaine Myrsini wines are not always consistent from vintage to vintage; the wild yeast fermentations are unpredictable; the unfiltered bottlings may carry sediment; the minimal-sulfur cuvées may evolve in unexpected ways. But they are always honest, always alive, and always unmistakably Paros — and for the drinkers who seek these qualities, they offer an experience that no technically perfect, commercially optimized wine can provide.

To understand Domaine Myrsini, one must understand the concept of the Parian voice — a viticultural identity that is distinct from the volcanic wines of Santorini, distinct from the gentle mainland slopes of Pella or the river valleys of Olympia, distinct from the quiet island wines of Andros, and distinct even from the more established appellations of Naoussa or Nemea. This is the voice of the French invasion, of the Nantes exodus, of the chef and the teacher who left their restaurant and their classroom to cultivate vines on a Cycladic island they had come to love — a voice that marries the natural wine culture of the Loire Valley with the ancient viticultural heritage of Paros, the granite and gneiss and limestone and marble of the Aegean, the meltemi winds that have shaped vines for millennia, and the aplotaria bush vines that look more like ancient sculptures than agricultural plants. It is a voice of extraordinary geological diversity, of old vines that have survived decades of benign neglect to produce fruit of extraordinary authenticity, of indigenous varieties like Monemvasia and Mandilaria and Vilana that have been given new life by a French couple who brought not merely their palates but their rigour, their curiosity, and their conviction that wine should be honest, alive, and expressive of its terroir. The Bourgets have spent the years since 2020 refining this voice, learning to translate the specific conditions of Paros — the mosaic of granite-gneiss-limestone-marble soils, the coastal salinity and the mountain coolness, the 150-year-old Mandilaria vines and the 25-year-old Vilana, the aplotaria training and the gravity bottling — into wines that speak with clarity, authenticity, and an unmistakable sense of place and purpose. The result is a portfolio that does not imitate Bordeaux or Burgundy, Napa or Barolo, but that stands as a unique expression of an island that has no equivalent in the global wine map — an island where a French chef and a French teacher have built an estate that combines the methodical precision of a kitchen with the radical simplicity of letting the vineyard speak.

The French invasion heritage that the Bourgets bring to Myrsini is not merely a matter of national origin; it is a matter of cultural sensibility, of gastronomic training, and of the understanding that the best wines often come from people who have spent years serving wine in restaurants before they ever planted a vine — people who understand not merely how wine is made but how it is experienced, not merely the chemistry of fermentation but the poetry of the table. Nicolas Bourget spent years as a chef and restaurateur in Nantes, selecting wines for his menu, pairing them with his dishes, listening to his customers' reactions, developing the palate and the judgment that would later inform every decision in the vineyard and the cellar. Marie-Astrid Bourget spent years as a teacher, developing the organisational rigour, the intellectual curiosity, and the communicative clarity that would later allow her to build the networks of collaboration — with old-vine farmers, with natural wine importers, with restaurants in Athens and beyond — that a small island winery requires to survive and thrive. Together, they brought to Paros not merely French techniques but French values: the belief that wine is food, that it should be honest and alive, that it should express its origin with minimal interference, and that the best winemaking is often the winemaking that does the least. This is not the industrial viticulture of the Champagne houses or the technical precision of the Bordeaux châteaux; it is the natural wine culture of the Loire — the culture of Muscadet sur lie, of Cabernet Franc from old vines, of pet-nats and skin-contact whites and wines that are bottled young, sold locally, and drunk with pleasure rather than analyzed with pretension. The Bourgets have transplanted this culture to Paros not as an imposition but as a conversation — a dialogue between the granite and the gneiss, the meltemi and the aplotaria, the Monemvasia and the Vilana, in which the French sensibility listens to the Greek terroir and the Greek terroir responds with wines that are unmistakably Parian and unmistakably Myrsini.

The natural wine philosophy that guides Domaine Myrsini is not a rejection of skill or knowledge but a rejection of the assumption that technology improves wine — a conviction that is as French as it is Greek, as Loire as it is Cycladic, and that finds its expression in every decision the Bourgets make from pruning to bottling. Nicolas and Marie-Astrid are not naive romantics who believe that nature will do all the work if only the winemaker steps aside; they are experienced professionals who have chosen to apply their knowledge in the service of restraint rather than manipulation. They know how to inoculate with commercial yeasts, how to add enzymes and tannins, how to stabilise wine with sulfur and filtration, how to correct acidity and adjust alcohol — and they choose not to, because they understand that each addition masks the voice of the terroir, each subtraction obscures the character of the vintage, and each technological intervention moves the wine further from its origin and closer to a generic, global standard. The Myrsini wines are not always consistent from vintage to vintage; the wild yeast fermentations are unpredictable; the unfiltered bottlings may carry sediment; the minimal-sulfur cuvées may evolve in unexpected ways. But they are always honest, always alive, and always unmistakably Paros — and for the drinkers who seek these qualities, they offer an experience that no technically perfect, commercially optimized wine can provide. This is not anti-modernism; it is a different modernity — one that values agricultural intimacy, historical continuity, and the radical simplicity of letting the island speak, filtered through the sensibility of a French chef who understands that the best ingredients need the least embellishment.

The future of Domaine Myrsini is tied to the deepening of the Bourgets' relationship with their Parian terroir — the continued expansion of their network of rented old-vine parcels, the refinement of their organic and biodynamic practices across their 1.4 hectares of owned vineyards and their collaborations with small farmers, the development of new cuvées that explore the full range of what Monemvasia, Assyrtiko, Mandilaria, Vaftra, Vilana, and Roditis can achieve in the mosaic of granite-gneiss-limestone-marble soils that defines the island, and the strengthening of their position in the Greek, European, and Japanese markets for quality natural wine. The estate will remain family-driven — Nicolas and Marie-Astrid continuing to work the vineyards, the cellar, and the distribution networks with the same commitment to indigenous yeast fermentation, gravity bottling, and minimal sulfur that has defined the project since its first vintage, and their two daughters growing up in the vineyards and the cellar, learning the craft that their parents have built from nothing on a Cycladic island. The Ammos Assyrtiko will continue to express the coastal salinity and mineral freshness of the lower-elevation granite parcels; the Fotinos Monemvasia will continue to develop its floral richness and textural depth through lees contact and concrete egg ageing; the Kelifos Monemvasia will continue to explore the cooler, more mineral character of the high-altitude amphora-aged parcels; the Kyklops Vilana pet-nat will continue to capture the joyful, immediate effervescence of the ancestral method; the Skaros Mandilaria rosé will continue to demonstrate the extraordinary depth and ageing potential that seven months on lees can give to a pink wine from 150-year-old vines; and the Nees Rizes Mandilaria-Vaftra blend will continue to express the peppery, structured, Loire-like elegance of high-altitude Cycladic reds. And the name "Myrsini" — the myrtle, the fragrant evergreen shrub that grows wild across the Greek islands, symbol of love, of immortality, of the enduring connection between the land and the people who cultivate it — will continue to resonate as a statement of character, a declaration of philosophy, and a promise that every bottle carries the imprint of a specific island, a specific mosaic of granite and gneiss and limestone and marble, a specific French couple's courage and curiosity and conviction, and an unwavering commitment to letting the Parian vineyard speak.

In an age of industrial wine production, of chemical agriculture and marketing-driven branding, Domaine Myrsini stands as a radical alternative — not because it rejects modernity but because it has chosen a different modernity, one that values French finesse over commercial standardisation, old-vine indigenous varieties over international homogenisation, aplotaria bush-vine cultivation over trellised monoculture, gravity bottling over pumped processing, wild yeast fermentation over commercial inoculation, unfiltered bottling over crystal clarity, minimal sulfur over chemical preservation, and the specific voice of a Cycladic island over the standardised replication of a global style. Nicolas and Marie-Astrid Bourget are not merely making wine; they are making a life — a life that bridges Nantes and Paros, the Loire and the Aegean, the restaurant and the vineyard, the classroom and the cellar, and that proves that the best wines often come not from people who have spent their entire lives in one place but from people who have had the courage to leave everything behind and start again in a landscape they have come to love. The 2020 founding, the 1.4 hectares of owned vineyards, the rented old-vine parcels of 25 to 150 years of age, the indigenous yeast philosophy, the gravity bottling tradition, the unfiltered commitment, the aplotaria training, the granite-gneiss-limestone-marble terroir, and the name that honours the fragrant shrub that grows wild across the Greek islands: all united in one bottle, one estate, one unanswerable argument for the possibility of authentic, place-specific, heritage-rooted, French-inflected natural wine on the wind-sculpted, sun-baked, anciently viticultural island of Paros.