The road winds gently through vineyards asleep under winter’s breath. As we climb higher above Sierre, the light shifts, taking on a softer, more honest glow. The sun touches the snow-covered slopes of the Alps, casting its warmth over the pruned vines as if to whisper, “Be patient. Spring is coming.” Beside me, Romain Favre, cap firmly in place, his gaze steady, drives with the confidence of someone who knows every twist and turn by heart.
I had never met this young winemaker before, but I’d heard of him. He’s part of Valais’ so-called “new generation”—those shaking up the old ways not with noise or rebellion, but with a quiet curiosity and a passion that’s hard to ignore. Though the son of a winemaker, Romain didn’t inherit a family estate. He built his own. Favre t’Chippis is his creation, his gamble.
We reach the top, and Romain parks the car in front of a small, rustic hut he recently acquired. “I’d like to turn this into a welcoming spot,” he says, “a place where people can sit, taste, and talk.” The idea is still taking shape, but his enthusiasm is palpable, bubbling over like champagne in an uncorked glass. Behind us, the town of Sierre stretches out, bathed in winter light, and the Rhône river meanders peacefully below.
A winemaker listening to the land
Romain talks about his craft with simple gestures, as though explaining something obvious. “I trust my senses—smelling, watching, tasting. They guide me,” he says. There’s no elaborate theory behind his words, just a deep awareness of each vintage, the whims of the weather, and the unpredictable nature of his plots. “Nothing here is set in stone. You have to adjust every year.” He points to the ground beneath our feet—stony, alive, and layered with history. The soil no longer suffers under herbicides, as his transition to organic farming is already underway. For Romain, this is as practical as it is personal.
A little further up the hill, I spot a man wielding a chainsaw. Family is never far away for the Favres. But their presence isn’t a weight on his shoulders—it’s a compass, quietly steering him as he builds something of his own.
Local grapes, local roots
Romain works vineyards on both sides of the Rhône. On the Tzararogne terroir, Savagnin blanc (locally known as Heida) thrives. Elsewhere, native varieties cling to the slopes: Rèze, Petite Arvine, Syrah, and Cornalin. “I have a soft spot for Syrah,” he admits with a grin. “But Rèze has its own kind of magic.”
This duality defines him: a passion for the iconic grapes alongside a commitment to reviving forgotten local varieties. Rèze, for instance, an ancient grape often overlooked, finds a second chance in his hands. He speaks of Syrah the way one would describe a steadfast love, but when he talks about Rèze, there’s a tenderness reserved for underdogs you can’t bear to give up on.
A modest cellar with big potential
We head back down to his cellar, which is simple and functional. There’s no showmanship here—everything is designed to get the job done efficiently. He opens a few barrels and invites me to taste directly from the source. His wines, though young and spirited, carry depth and reflection, like conversations that leave you thinking long after they’re over.
The whites are crisp and saline, with a striking minerality, while the reds are structured, their tannins fine and elegant. Each cuvée seems to tell the story of the land it comes from.
The Rèze surprises me with its freshness and almost briny edge. The 2023 vintage is already excellent and will age gracefully. His Syrah strikes a perfect balance, blending soft spices with floral notes. But it’s his rosé that wins me over—a burst of fruit, vibrant and unpretentious. I’m not usually a fan of rosé, but I’d happily take home a case for summer evenings.
The future of Valais winemaking
Watching Romain speak, I see why winemakers like Alex Stauffer (Le Vin de l’A) and Raphaël Maye respect him. They share his drive for innovation and his commitment to honoring tradition while daring to take risks. They also share a love for well-crafted reds—the kind meant to be enjoyed with good food and great company.
As our visit comes to an end, a sense of gratitude lingers. Not just for the wines, but for the honest simplicity of this meeting among the vines. Romain has something rare: ambition without arrogance, curiosity without disregard for the past.
As he drops me off at the Sierre train station, I’m already thinking about my next visit—when the cellar will be alive with a new vintage. Because one thing is certain: Romain’s vines will have plenty more stories to tell next year.
His website: https://favre-tchippis.ch