From the Page to the Press
Rachel Signer was a waitress in Brooklyn, then a wine writer, then the founder of Pipette Magazine — one of the most respected publications in the natural wine world. She wrote about pét-nat before most people could pronounce it. She travelled to France, Italy, Spain, and Georgia, documenting the lives of vignerons who farmed without chemicals and made wine without additions. Then she fell in love with one of them — Anton von Klopper of Lucy Margaux, the godfather of Australian natural wine. She moved to Basket Range in the Adelaide Hills, had a child, and started making her own wine in a little shed on their farm. No forklift. No modern press. No pump. Just hands, feet, buckets, and a simple wooden basket press operated manually. She ferments only in natural materials — ceramic or wood — never stainless steel. The wines are completely zero-zero: no sulphur, no additives, no fining, no filtration. The name was originally Persephone, after the Greek goddess of spring — but after three years, a major Napa Valley winery sent a cease-and-desist letter claiming they owned the trademark. So she renamed the label Cleopatra, after the last active ruler of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt — a woman who, like Rachel, refused to be told what she could and couldn't do. The wines are fun, easy-going, and interesting — harmonic expressions of organic fruit spun gently into wine without any additions. This is not a commercial project. This is a writer's wine — a memoir in liquid form.
From Brooklyn to Basket Range
Rachel Signer grew up in Washington D.C., the daughter of a Jewish family. She studied at Oberlin College, then moved to New York to pursue a career in fiction writing. To support herself, she worked as a waitress at a restaurant in Brooklyn that was part of a blossoming culture around a peculiar kind of beverage known as "natural wine." One glass of the stuff — fizzy and pink and organic — and she was hooked. At 28, she pivoted from fiction to wine writing and went to work in retail. As she sank deeper into the world of natural wines, she became fixated on the idea of moving to Paris and using it as her base for discovering the producers of this quirky and unpredictable style of wine.
She packed two suitcases and left New York. In Paris, she wrote about natural wine, visited producers in the Loire Valley, worked a harvest internship at Domaine Mosse, and travelled to Georgia to discover the ancient qvevri tradition. It was in Georgia that she met Anton von Klopper — "Wildman" — a South African-born winemaker from the Adelaide Hills who was recently divorced and, like Rachel, searching for something. Their connection was immediate. Rachel was fresh on the heels of several romantic disappointments, convinced that moving to Paris and opening a wine bar with her best friend from New York would heal her wounds. Instead, she found herself drawn to this wild, gentle man who made wine with no additions, no sulfur, no control.
Rachel moved to Basket Range in the Adelaide Hills, to the farm that Anton had built from a cherry orchard. They had a child together. And Rachel, who had spent her career writing about other people's wines, decided to make her own. She started Persephone Wines in 2018 — named after the Greek goddess of spring, symbolising a deep connection to the earth and the cycle of seasons. The wines were made in a little shed on the farm, with no electrical machines, no modern equipment, just her hands and feet and a wooden basket press. In 2021, she published her memoir, "You Had Me At Pét-Nat: A Natural Wine-Soaked Memoir" — a chronicle of her journey from consumer to producer, from Brooklyn to Basket Range, from writer to winemaker. In 2023, after a cease-and-desist from a Napa Valley winery, she renamed the label Cleopatra Wines.
"So much stands to be lost if we don't support natural wine — vineyard heritage; grape biodiversity; soil fertility; and of course, the gorgeous lively bottles that make an evening so special."
— Rachel Signer
A Little Shed on a Farm in Basket Range
Cleopatra Wines are made in a little shed on the farm that Rachel shares with Anton von Klopper in Basket Range, on the traditional land of the Peramangk people. The farm is the same property where Anton established Lucy Margaux — a 16-acre cherry orchard converted to a biodynamic vineyard in 2002. Rachel does not own her own vineyard; she sources fruit from organically farmed vineyards in the Adelaide Hills and beyond, working with the same growers and networks that Anton has cultivated over two decades.
The winemaking is deliberately primitive. No forklift. No modern press. No pump. Just hands, feet, buckets, and a simple wooden basket press that Rachel operates manually. She ferments only in natural materials — ceramic amphorae or wooden vessels — never stainless steel. This is not nostalgia for nostalgia's sake; it is a philosophical choice. "I quickly realised that I wanted to make wine without any electrical machines, at all," Rachel says. "That meant no forklift, no modern press, no pump — just hands, feet, buckets, and a simple wooden basket press that I operate manually. I also opted to only ferment in natural materials — ceramic or wood — instead of stainless steel."
The result is wine that is completely zero-zero: no sulphur, no additives, no fining, no filtration. The fruit is organic. The fermentation is spontaneous. The ageing is in neutral vessels. The bottling is by hand. This is as close to ancient winemaking as you can get in contemporary Australia — a practice that Rachel has documented in her writing and now lives every day in her shed. "From the beginning, the challenge was understanding how I wanted to make these wines," she says. "What would really give them a special character, a feeling of being mine?" The answer was: nothing. Just the fruit, the ferment, and the patience to let it become what it wants to be.
The wines are made on the farm that Rachel shares with Anton von Klopper in Basket Range, Adelaide Hills. The same property where Lucy Margaux was established from a 16-acre cherry orchard in 2002. Surrounded by stringybark eucalyptus forest, cool climate, and a community of like-minded natural winemakers.
No forklift. No modern press. No pump. Just hands, feet, buckets, and a simple wooden basket press operated manually. Fermentation happens only in natural materials — ceramic amphorae or wooden vessels. Never stainless steel. This is primitive winemaking as philosophy, not gimmick.
Completely zero-zero winemaking: no sulphur, no additives, no fining, no filtration. Organic fruit, spontaneous fermentation, neutral vessels, hand bottling. The wines are as close to ancient winemaking as you can get in contemporary Australia. "Harmonic expressions of organic fruit spun gently into wine without any additions."
Originally named Persephone Wines after the Greek goddess of spring. After three years, a major Napa Valley winery sent a cease-and-desist claiming they owned the trademark. Rachel renamed the label Cleopatra — after the last active ruler of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt, a woman who refused to be told what she could and couldn't do.
Hands, Feet & Ancient Rituals
Rachel Signer's winemaking is a deliberate rejection of modernity. She does not use electrical machines. She does not use stainless steel. She does not add sulphur or any other additive. The process is entirely manual: hand-picking, foot-stomping, hand-plunging, basket-pressing, and hand-bottling. The fermentation vessels are ceramic amphorae and wooden casks — materials that have been used for thousands of years. This is not minimal intervention; this is maximal human involvement, stripped of all technology.
The wines are made in tiny batches — "handmade in tiny batches in a little shed on their farm," as one retailer puts it. The range is small and changes by vintage: Gamay, Cabernet Franc, Semillon, Fiano, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and blends. The pét-nats are particularly celebrated — a pink wine made from blending separately fermented Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, bottled during active fermentation, disgorged by hand. Rachel has written extensively about pét-nat — she literally wrote the book on it — and her own pét-nats are a testament to everything she has learned.
The result is wine that is alive, unpredictable, and deeply personal. "Rachel Signer's Cleopatra wines are harmonic expressions of organic fruit spun gently into wine without any additions," says one importer. "After falling in love with the Adelaide Hills and its flowers and vines and characters, writer-come-winemaker Rachel Signer pulled up stumps to make wines and a life with her partner Anton Von Klopper. Handmade in tiny batches in a little shed on their farm, these wines are simply a joy to drink." This is not wine made for trophies or ratings. This is wine made for joy — for the pleasure of drinking something that was made by hand, with care, and with absolutely nothing added.
You Had Me At Pét-Nat — The Memoir
In 2021, Rachel published her memoir, "You Had Me At Pét-Nat: A Natural Wine-Soaked Memoir" — published by Hachette Books, one of the world's largest publishing houses. The book traces her journey from waitress in Brooklyn to wine writer in Paris to winemaker in Basket Range. It includes vivid scenes of working harvest in the Loire Valley, discovering qvevri in Georgia, meeting Anton in a limestone cave, and learning to make pét-nat in a shed. The book was widely reviewed and established Rachel as one of the most important voices in natural wine — not just as a writer, but as a practitioner. She followed it with "How To Drink Natural Wine" — a guide for newcomers to the movement. And she continues to publish Pipette Magazine, the publication she founded to document the natural wine world. Rachel Signer is not just a winemaker. She is a chronicler, a philosopher, and a living bridge between the old world and the new.
Writer, Winemaker, Mother & Advocate
Rachel Signer is a rare figure in the wine world — someone who has succeeded as a writer, a publisher, a winemaker, and an advocate. She founded Pipette Magazine, one of the most respected publications in natural wine. She wrote "You Had Me At Pét-Nat," a memoir that brought natural wine to a mainstream audience. She makes Cleopatra Wines, completely zero-zero, in a shed on a farm in Basket Range. She is the mother of a young child, shared with Anton von Klopper. And she continues to write, to publish, and to advocate for the natural wine movement around the world.
Her collaborations extend beyond Australia. She has worked with producers in Paris, Italy, Spain, and Georgia — bringing her knowledge and her palate to projects across the natural wine world. She has been featured in Saveur, Fortune, and countless wine publications. She has appeared on podcasts and at wine fairs. She is, in many ways, the public face of natural wine for an English-speaking audience — the person who can explain why natural wine matters, why it tastes the way it does, and why it represents something bigger than just a drink.
But at the heart of everything is the farm in Basket Range. The little shed. The wooden basket press. The ceramic amphorae. The hands and feet that make the wine. "These are wines to be enjoyed and savoured," Rachel says — though she would never use such formal language. She would say: these are wines for fun. For friends. For long lunches and late nights. For the joy of drinking something that was made with love and nothing else. This is the essence of Cleopatra Wines — and of Rachel Signer herself.
"From the beginning, the challenge was understanding how I wanted to make these wines. What would really give them a special character, a feeling of being mine? I quickly realised that I wanted to make wine without any electrical machines, at all."
— Rachel Signer
The Cleopatra Range
Cleopatra Wines produces a small, ever-changing range of handmade, zero-zero natural wines from organically farmed fruit in the Adelaide Hills and beyond. The portfolio is made in tiny batches in a little shed on the farm in Basket Range — no machines, no electricity, no additions. The wines are fun, easy-going, and interesting: harmonic expressions of organic fruit spun gently into wine. The range spans pét-nats, light reds, whites, and blends — all made with the same primitive, patient, deeply personal approach.