Where Champagne is born – a story of the land, the people, and luxury in a glass A tale of Champagne, terroir, and the Cheurlin family of Celles-sur-Ource

 

France—a country with a thousand-year-old culture, for centuries the faithful daughter of the Church. France, where legends and reality intertwine. And finally, France—the cradle of wine and champagne.
One of these legends tells that Mary Magdalene is said to have brought the grape varieties Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Merlot to France. One day I asked ChatGPT about this story and received the answer: “That’s probably more of a legend intended to highlight France’s special role.”
Perhaps.
But some stories don’t need legends.
And that’s exactly the kind of story I’d like to tell.
It is the story of the Cheurlin family from the small village of Celles-sur-Ource in the southern part of Champagne. That quieter, more secluded part of the region, far from the grand houses of Reims and Épernay. A Champagne that has nothing to prove to anyone. It simply lives at its own pace.
We met Lucie on Good Friday at her family’s winery. Even as we drove into Celles-sur-Ource, the name Cheurlin was everywhere. It wasn’t until later that we understood why. In this small village, Cheurlin isn’t just the name of a champagne house. It’s part of the history of the entire town. The name belongs to uncles, cousins, and various branches of the family—as well as to Lucie and Sebastian’s father, Richard. Here, the brand didn’t emerge from a business venture. It emerged from generations.

A residence where time passes differently

 

 

Lucie’s residence didn’t feel like a place designed for guests. Rather, it felt like a space where time has long flowed differently. A house that has lived for decades to the rhythm of the grape harvest, family gatherings, and new generations growing up among the vines. This is where the great-grandparents lived. This is where the grandparents grew up. And this is where the next generation stands today.
Old photographs hung on the walls. Two winemaking families. Two surnames. One marriage. And a story that has never been interrupted.
Lucie poured us the first glass Champagne and said calmly:
— I am the fifth generation to grow grapes and produce champagne.
There was no feigned pride in her words. Rather, a sense of responsibility. As if she were speaking of something self-evident. Of the land she had received from the generations before her and would one day pass on.

 

Organic viticulture – a return to balance

The real story didn’t begin in the house, though.
It began in the earth.
“Everything used to be organic,” said Lucie. “Not because anyone had made that decision, but because chemistry didn’t exist yet.”
Her great-grandparents lived differently. The vineyard was part of the farm, but never its sole foundation. Alongside the vines, there were animals, fields, and grain. Because harvests could fluctuate dramatically. One year was good. The next yielded almost nothing.
Then came the chemical revolution.
For her grandparents’ generation, it was almost a miracle. Work became easier. Harvests more predictable. Life more stable. Chemistry gave the feeling of being able to control nature.
Today, Lucie sees things differently.
She sees the depleted soils, the weakened plants, and the vineyards’ ever-increasing dependence on chemical pesticides. The winemakers, who work closest to the earth, were among the first to feel the consequences of these intensive interventions.
That is why she and her brother decided to return to a more natural way of working.
Not back to the past.
But back to balance.
Since 2011, their LS Cheurlin line has been organically farmed. But I quickly realized that for Lucie, “organic” isn’t just a marketing term. It’s a way of thinking.

The vine as a living organism

 

 

 

"The health of the plant always comes first," said Lucie.
And suddenly, it all started to make sense.
Organic viticulture isn't about fighting nature. It's about supporting it before problems arise. It's about observation. Patience. Sensitivity.
Lucie spoke of horsetail, rich in silica, which strengthens the vine’s structure like a natural skeleton. Of stinging nettles and dandelions, which provide minerals. Of chamomile, which alleviates heat stress. And of valerian, which helps the plant survive frost.
“A plant functions a bit like a human,” she said.
And indeed, as you listened, you got the feeling she was talking about a living being rather than agriculture.

 

The Terroir of Champagne – Why the Soil Affects the Flavor

 

 

Later, we turned to the topic of terroir.
That elusive alchemy that ensures two wines made from the same grape variety can taste completely different.
Lucie explained the difference between the chalky soils of the Côte des Blancs and the more loamy terroir of the Côte des Bar. Chardonnay grown on chalk has a more vibrant, mineral, and precise character. Pinot Noir on clay yields more fruit, roundness, and depth.
But there is no such thing as the one perfect soil.
— It’s all a matter of harmony — she said.
And that is precisely why monks traveled through France, Italy, and Spain for centuries, planting vines in a wide variety of locations and observing where they expressed themselves best. They descended into valleys, climbed hills, and studied soils and climate.
In doing so, they discovered something fundamental:
Great wine does not come from the grape variety alone.
It comes from the harmony of a place.

 

How Champagne Is Made – A Process That Takes Time and Patience

 

 

After talking for over an hour, Lucie led us into the production hall. That’s where the busiest time of the year begins in the fall—the grape harvest.
In Champagne, the harvest is short and extremely intense. It lasts only a few days. The grapes must be taken to the press immediately, because from the moment they are picked, they begin to oxidize and lose their freshness.
In the winery, everything happens slowly.
Paradoxically, it is precisely this rush that demands absolute calm here.
Pressing takes several hours and is done at very low pressure. After each pressing, the mass of grapes is loosened and redistributed to extract only the purest juice, free of bitter compounds and excess tannins.
“Champagne isn’t about quantity,” Lucie explained. “It’s about finesse.”
For the first time, we heard about the three juice fractions.
The first—the cuvée—is the most elegant, purest, and finest. The heart of the champagne.
The second—the taille—brings more structure and power.
The third is too intense and is distilled.
Every decision made at this moment later influences the character of the wine.
And then comes the time.
Fermentation.
Aging.
Blending of different vintages.
Because every year tastes different.
That is why the art of blending emerges—the marriage of different vintages to preserve the house’s style. But there are also vintage champagnes. The essence of a single year. A single climate. A single story.

 

The cellar where the champagne bubbles are created

 

This is a moment that most people will never get to see.
Champagne matures on the lees—it is precisely during this phase that it develops its creaminess, depth, and those subtle nuances that only emerge over time.
This is not a technical detail.
This is the step that shapes the wine’s character

 

Later, we went down to the cellar.
And there, everything suddenly fell silent.
The bottles lay side by side in the semi-darkness, still without labels, without gold foil, and without luxurious packaging. Just glass, crown caps, and the yeast slowly working away inside.
It was perhaps the most beautiful moment of the entire day.
Because there, the Champagne was still real. Naked. Not yet ready to impress the world.
Lucie picked up one of the bottles.
“This is where the most important thing happens,” she said quietly. “Time.”
It is precisely the aging on the lees that gives the champagne its creaminess, depth, and those slightly toasty aromas that only develop after years of patient aging. And it is precisely here, during the long contact with the yeast, that the characteristic bubbles of champagne also form—fine, elegant, and exceptionally long-lasting. That is why this step is one of the most important in the entire champagne-making process.
And at that moment, I understood something else.
Great champagne cannot be rushed.

All you can do is provide him with the right conditions and learn to be patient.

 

The taste of a place in a glass

At the end, we tasted more cuvées.
One was more floral, delicate, almost ethereal. The other was deep, fruity, and intense, marked by the character of old Pinot Noir vines.
In one champagne, we detected white flowers and lightly toasted vanilla. In another, wild strawberries, freshness, and subtle minerality.
But the most important thing was something else.
Each of these wines tasted like the place it came from.
And at that very moment, I understood that champagne was never just alcohol.
It is a memory of the earth. A memory of people.
And a memory of patience, passed down from generation to generation.

 

Discover champagnes with a rich history

 

 

True luxury doesn’t begin with a golden label.
It begins with an understanding of the history of people, land, and time, which later come together in a single glass of champagne.
When you know the place where a champagne comes from, you taste it differently. You sense the chalky soil of Champagne, the coolness of the cellars, the patience of aging, and the work of five generations of a family that creates wine with respect for nature.
The champagnes from Lucie and the Cheurlin family are available in our shop . And perhaps that is exactly where your own story with authentic champagne begins.