The Still Room

Whole fruit, vegetables and herbs, macerated slowly. Drunk like wine, made like nothing else.

Jukes 1 — The Sparkling White

London, in white.

Jukes 1 is the white — the number is his own recipe’s, kept. Citrus, stone fruit and fresh herbs over that quiet cider-vinegar spine: aromatic, uplifting, beautifully dry. Peach blossom and cucumber at the open, a green, herbal lift through the middle, closing bone-dry on lemon zest.

Neither wine nor anything else you have held. That is the point.

We do not score. We read. The Reading is how the house locates this bottle — four axes, written on the four petals of the mark.

One to four petals, quiet to pronounced. A Reading is a location, not a grade.

Read in — the handblown Stem Zero Champagne.

Serve — cold, from the refrigerator. The relaxed lunch, the aperitif, the toast around the table.

The Reading, in Full

• Nose — Blossom. Peach blossom and fresh herbs rise first, cucumber cool behind.
• Arc — Green lift. It moves bright and herbal across the palate — uplifting, exactly as its maker wrote it.
• Weight — Taut. Light and precisely strung; the vinegar’s quiet spine where a wine’s acid would be.
• Stay — Bone-dry. Lemon zest at the close, clean and absolute — the driest finish on the wall.
• The Table — The relaxed lunch. Shellfish, salads, the first warm afternoon of the year.

Jukes 6 — The Sparkling Red

London, in red.

Jukes 6 is the red — the bottle he made for the table. Deep black fruit layered with earthy, spicy complexity; blackcurrant and dark plum over savory herbs and quiet spice, drawn from several dozen fruits, vegetables, herbs and flowers in a single blend. It closes mellow, long, and savory — the shape of a red at dinner, kept whole.

The bottle that replaces the bottle of red. It was designed for exactly that seat.

We do not score. We read. The Reading is how the house locates this bottle — four axes, written on the four petals of the mark.

One to four petals, quiet to pronounced. A Reading is a location, not a grade.

Read in — the handblown Stem Zero Champagne.

Serve — cool, at the table. The food-led gathering — the pour that stays through every course.

The Reading, in Full

• Nose — Dark fruit. Blackcurrant and dark plum, deep and shadowed.
• Arc — Deepening. It settles downward as it travels — the earthy, spiced middle a red drinker will recognize at once.
• Weight — Grounded. Full and savory, the blend’s vegetal depth doing the work of tannin.
• Stay — Dry, long. Mellow and savory at the close, holding like a proper red — the finish that keeps the conversation seated.
• The Table — Dinner, entire. Roasts, mushrooms, aged cheese — the meal that used to ask for the bottle of red.

Jukes 8 — The Sparkling Rosé

London, by way of Provence.

We chose Jukes because Britain’s most-read wine writer refused to unwind a wine and composed something new instead.

Matthew Jukes tasted for a living for nearly forty years and never found the zero-proof pour he would willingly set at his own table — so he revived a seventeenth-century farmers’ cordial, the Haymaker’s Punch, and rebuilt it from the ground: organic apple cider vinegar, which holds the perfume of anything macerated in it; two hundred single-note trials; a full year of blending. Matthew died suddenly in the summer of 2026. His blends continue exactly as he composed them — and the house is honored to carry his legacy to the American table.

Jukes 8 is the rosé — his love letter to the food, wine and countryside of Provence. Perfumed and delicate, crunchy red fruits over garden herbs, refreshingly crisp through the middle and finished dry. Poured cold, it does what the south of France does: it slows the afternoon down.

The warm afternoon, bottled in London.

We do not score. We read. The Reading is how the house locates this bottle — four axes, written on the four petals of the mark.

One to four petals, quiet to pronounced. A Reading is a location, not a grade.

Read in — the handblown Stem Zero Champagne.

Serve — cold, without ceremony. The warm afternoon, the celebratory dinner, the effortless host’s table.

The Reading, in Full

• Nose — Red fruit. Crunchy, fresh, perfumed — strawberry and redcurrant over garden herbs.
• Arc — Herbal. Provence moves through the middle — delicate, aromatic, unhurried.
• Weight — Light. The lightest of the three; crisp, airy, made for daylight.
• Stay — Dry. Clean and quick at the close — the rosé’s promise, kept to the last.
• The Table — The long lunch outside. Niçoise, grilled fish, an unhurried afternoon.