The perfumed elder of the white trio, documented in Bordeaux for centuries under names like "Guillan" — and, despite the sound of it, no relation of the Muscat family: the musky flower-and-grape scent is its own. It asks little land and gives a heady, jasmine-and-honeysuckle lift that no other Bordeaux white can imitate.
It is also difficult — vigorous, rot-prone, irregular — and the modern vineyard has little patience for difficulty: a few hundred hectares remain, seasoning sweet whites at five or ten percent and the odd dry Entre-deux-Mers blend. A vanishing spice, kept alive by the difference it makes.