A magic valley

It started almost twenty years ago, when we were cycling through the vineyards around Beaune. We knew Burgundy, or thought we did, but little by little our rides took us further away from the familiar roads and famous names.

One day we turned west just past famous Meursault and found ourselves entering another landscape. The hills began to close in, cliffs appeared further ahead, a forest rose above the vineyards and the road climbed quietly between old stone walls. We came into the village of Auxey-Duresses — a name we knew from wine labels, but a place we had never really noticed.

We kept coming back, cycling further up and around the valley, taking different little roads, finding villages, vineyards, paths through the forest and places to stop. Over the years it became one of our favourite corners of Burgundy.

What still seems extraordinary is how close it is to everything. Beaune, and some of the most celebrated and sought-after vineyards in the world, are only minutes away. In places, the vineyards of Meursault and Auxey-Duresses feel almost like neighbouring fields. There is no dramatic geographical border, no great distance to travel. And yet the atmosphere changes completely.

The traffic disappears. The grand wine houses and busy terraces are left behind. The vineyards become smaller and quieter, the slopes steeper, the forest closer. It feels less polished and somehow more private, very natural and untouched.

It also feels like a place that has been lived in for a very long time.

The Auxey valley is one of Burgundy’s ancient wine-growing landscapes. The Celts occupied this valley more than two thousand years ago, and Mont Mélian, the hill overlooking Auxey-Duresses, was an important site in the area. The Romans followed and developed viticulture here, then came the monks of nearby Cluny — whose abbey church became the largest in Christendom — and later Cîteaux, shaping the vineyards and agricultural landscape that still define the valley today.

Each generation seems to have left something behind without completely disturbing what came before. Perhaps that is what gives the valley its particular feeling.

Twenty years after that first bicycle ride, we are still discovering things here. We have friends here and our favourite restaurants. We will share some of them with you in the coming weeks.

And one of the places that captures this valley particularly well is the Moulin aux Moines.

Moulin aux Moines

Hidden among the vineyards just before Auxey-Duresses, the Moulin occupies an extraordinary site of old stone buildings, vines and wooded hills. Its history goes back more than a thousand years, to the monks of Cluny. Once a working mill and agricultural settlement, today it is still a wine domaine, and during the warmer months its courtyard becomes a restaurant.

The setting is quite difficult to beat. Tables are outside among the old buildings, with vineyards beginning almost at your feet and the wooded hills rising behind them. Yet there is nothing precious or overly arranged about it. The atmosphere is relaxed and slightly bohemian.

The food follows the same spirit. Seasonal, local and refreshingly uncomplicated — more country bistro than gastronomic restaurant. Lots of vegetables and herbs, generous salads and small plates, pizzas, things cooked over the fire, alongside the wonderfully *canaille* side of Burgundy: a côte de bœuf from the barbecue, something to put in the middle of the table and share.

Much of the produce comes through the Épicerie Paysanne nearby, working with farmers and small producers from the area. The cooking is fresh, healthy, full of flavour, without unnecessary complication. There is a generosity to the whole idea: quality local ingredients, proper cooking and prices kept deliberately reasonable, all in a setting that could easily have been turned into something far more precious and exclusive.

And then there is the wine.

The wine list is spectacular — deeply rooted in Burgundy, full of small domaines, local discoveries and some very serious bottles. Yet the prices remain surprisingly reasonable. There is something wonderful about sitting at a simple table outside, eating a pizza or something straight from the fire, while choosing from a wine list that would not be out of place in a refined restaurant.

But perhaps what we like most is the human mixture of the Moulin.

The team is young, warm and remarkably international. Cooks and pizzaioli who have travelled and worked in different countries, sommeliers, writers and people doing completely different things who somehow find themselves spending a season in Burgundy. There is curiosity and openness about them, and none of the distance that can sometimes come with very good food and very good wine.

The head waiter remembers you. Someone stops at the table to talk. People move between the oven, barbecue, kitchen and tables. Conversations begin easily. It feels homely.

And somehow all of this fits the place perfectly: the old stone buildings, vines beginning almost at the tables, simple seasonal food, extraordinary wine and this slightly unexpected collection of people from different places.

You come for lunch and stay into the afternoon. Or arrive for dinner and somehow stay much longer than intended.

Nothing about the Moulin feels exclusive, despite a setting that very easily could be. It is beautiful without making a performance of being beautiful.

Perhaps that is what we like most about it.