Of the many bottles I open over the course of a year, I never know which ones will speak most clearly to me. The best wines are not necessarily the oldest or the most profound, but the ones that touch your emotions.

That’s odd to think about a subject that is so often considered academic, but great wines are not those that tick off rational boxes, like old or complex. They’re the ones that leave you struggling for words. They make you think, yes, but they also make you feel happy, grateful and deeply moved. You don’t forget them.

These 12 bottles stuck in my memory in 2025. Here they are, from young to old.

Pavese & Figli Vallée d’Aoste Blanc de Morgex et de la Salle 2023

This wine is made from a little-known grape, prié blanc, in a practically unknown region, Vallée d’Aoste, high up in the Alpine foothills where Italy kisses the borders of France and Switzerland. It was one of my favorite whites in 2025. As fresh as a mountain meadow, I drank it through the year, whatever the weather, whatever the food. The Pavese family farms a small plot, almost 4,000 feet in elevation near Mont Blanc, which is among the highest vineyards in Europe.

Littorai Sonoma Coast The Pivot Pinot Noir 2023

I drank this pinot noir at a lunch in New York marking the 30th vintage for Ted and Heidi Lemon at Littorai. Mr. Lemon is one of America’s best vignerons and a pioneer of the Sonoma Coast region. We tasted wines from as far back as 1995, but it was this 2023, Littorai’s current vintage from its Pivot vineyard, that I could not forget. It was delicate, precise and graceful, fragile as a flower petal yet with the underlying tensile strength that gives great pinot noirs their structure. Power has too frequently been the defining characteristic of California pinot noirs, but wines like this show how well they can offer the subtler pleasures as well.

Jean Foillard Morgon Côte du Py 2022

On a visit to Beaujolais in June, to report on how the tariff turmoil was affecting producers, I sat in a courtyard with Alex Foillard, who works closely with his father, Jean, on the Jean Foillard wines as well as making wines under his own name. Good Beaujolais has never been better, an evolution spearheaded by growers like the Foillards, who prioritized conscientious farming and abhorred the winemaking shortcuts that resulted in cheap, confected, ephemeral wines. The ’22 Morgon Côte du Py was a case in point. It was rich with plenty of fruit, all underscored by stony flavors that gave the fruit shape and structure. It was young but gorgeous. “In 20 or 25 years it will be perfect,” Alex said.

Bell Hill North Canterbury Pinot Noir 2020

I visited New Zealand for the first time in February, and had time enough to explore the Central Otago and North Canterbury regions on the South Island. Among the wonderful estates I visited, Bell Hill stood out, both for the astounding location — the vineyard is on an old limestone quarry — and the dedication of the couple, Marcel Giesen and Sherwyn Veldhuizen, who farm the site and make the wines. Over lunch we tasted several wines, including this 2020, the current release at five years of age. “Our wines want the time,” Ms. Veldhuizen said. “They’re very shy in their youth.” The ’20 was fresh and precise, with depth, finesse and clarity, the epitome of elegance.

Valentin Morel Les Pieds sur Terre Vin de France Bulle Magique 2019

Valentin Morel is a young natural-wine producer in the Jura region of France. Bulle Magique, a sparkling blanc de blancs, is 100 percent chardonnay and made using the traditional method, just like Champagne. I drank it at a family gathering in the spring, and this deep, rich, toasty wine, with rare complexity, was a delicious way to begin the evening. It was so good, I found several more bottles to drink over the course of the year.

Alice et Olivier De Moor Bourgogne Aligoté Plantation 1902 2019

At dinner with a friend, we each brought a bottle. This was my offering, a rare aligoté from Alice et Olivier De Moor, who nurture a small plot that was planted in 1902. It was richer than many aligotés, but it had incredible depth and energy. It’s the kind of wine you drink but never get to the bottom of, so you keep going back, trying to unlock the mystery. Anybody who ever doubts the potential of aligoté to make a great wine needs to try this.

Carsten Saalwächter Rheinhessen Chardonnay 2018

Early in the year I went to a tasting of German chardonnays. Yes, chardonnays. Germany is not just rieslings. It makes wonderful spätburgunders, as pinot noir is known in German, and where there is pinot, you will most often find chardonnay. Climate change is one reason we are seeing such great success with these wines, but the terroirs are superb, too. Of all the wines I drank that evening, I could not forget the 2018 from Carsten Saalwächter in Rheinhessen. You could say it was reminiscent of a Meursault, yet it differed as well. Was it perhaps typical of a Rheinhessen chardonnay? Time may tell. This was my introduction to the Saalwächter wines. Somebody who knew more about him said, “His heart is in silvaner.” Can’t wait to try one of those.

Benanti Etna Bianco Superiore Pietra Marina 2014

On an incredibly hot day in July, we had lunch outdoors in New Jersey, thankfully in the shade. I brought this bottle, which I’d bought some years before. I first tried Pietra Marina maybe 15 years ago, and drinking it made me rethink the potential of Italian whites. Pietra Marina is made entirely of the carricante grape, which, when grown in the Milo section on Mount Etna, has a characteristically salty flavor. With 10-plus years of aging, the wine was deep, resonant, stony and deeply satisfying.

Clos Roche Blanche Touraine Sauvignon No. 5 2012

This Loire estate was beloved by many before, with no heirs apparent, it closed after the 2014 harvest. It lives on in fond memory — I still have a bottle from 2013 I am zealously guarding, but for what? Sentimentality? At a dinner one night, this was poured blind for me. Its mineral density made me think of a fine white Burgundy — what a surprise! A gorgeous wine that tasted more of its terroir than of the sauvignon blanc grape, it was a memory to treasure.

La Pousse d’Or Volnay 1er Cru Clos des 60 Ouvrées 2010

While rooting through my wine fridge one afternoon I came across this bottle. The label had seen better days, and I had no memory of how or where I had gotten it, but the Clos de 60 Ouvrées subsection of the Caillerets vineyard is one of Volnay’s great terroirs. Accepting my good fortune, I opened it at lunch with friends. It was magnificent, floral and complex, graceful and lingering. To quote Bob Dylan, I can’t help it if I’m lucky.

Alain et Jérôme Lenoir Chinon Les Roches 2001

At the same dinner at which I brought the De Moor aligoté, my friend brought this wine. He hadn’t known, but the Lenoir Chinon was a holy grail for me. It so rarely shows up in this country, and I am always looking for it. And here it was, presented as if by chance — there’s that luck again. Like other Lenoir Chinons I’ve had, it was rustic and soulful, resolutely traditional, an unmediated expression of a people and a place, presented without makeup or polish. I was grateful to drink it.

Bartolo Mascarello Barolo 1998

For me, Bartolo Mascarello epitomizes great Barolo. They are among the best wines I’ve ever had, requiring years of age before they blossom into gorgeous complexity. Nowadays, a bottle costs several hundred dollars, but years ago, when they were more affordable, I bought a bunch, most of which I still have. When I opened this bottle at dinner with friends this fall, I could not believe how good it was, bright, full of energy, radiating waves of nuanced aromas and flavors. My reluctance to touch the wines for years had paid off, and this bottle was a reward. Since Mr. Mascarello died in 2005, his daughter, Maria-Téresa Mascarello, has carried on the family tradition of beautiful wines.

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