Meunier is the third grape of Champagne and the one nobody talks about, planted more widely than either of the others and credited far less often. Using it alone, rather than blending it away, is the point of this bottle. La Conspiration macerates Meunier picked by hand off the plots and out of the press, works it slowly through a hundred-litre bain-marie still, and numbers nine hundred bottles at 44%.

What the grape gives is roundness, and the aroma says so immediately. Apple leads, crisp rather than cooked, and ripe apricot sits beside it with a softer, denser sweetness that fills out the middle. Honey follows underneath, and it is a note rather than an ingredient: nothing has been sweetened, and the impression comes from the fruit and the vanilla working together. Vanilla itself adds a warm creaminess low in the glass, and liquorice closes the arrangement, drawing the finish out with a sweetness owing nothing to sugar. Juniper stays clearly present through the middle, and only that presence lets a recipe this fruit-forward keep its London Dry designation. The palate is smooth and gourmet, and the whole thing is rounder than either the strength or the category would predict.

Roundness is easy to spoil and easy to enjoy. Serve it undiluted and lightly chilled first, where the apricot and the vanilla separate most clearly, and only then reach for a mixer. If you mix, use a neutral tonic with a fine bead, ice the glass heavily, and garnish with apple rather than citrus, since a sharp peel would fight the honey. Choosing the least fashionable grape and building a whole bottle on it is a quiet kind of confidence. A grape planted everywhere and celebrated nowhere is the one with the most left to prove. It ends fruity, honeyed and long.