With her first official visit to Italy as Chef de Caves, between Rome and Milan on May 18 and 19, Caroline Fiot inaugurated a new chapter in the history of Maison Ruinart. It was an official and particularly meaningful passing of the baton, following the death of Frédéric Panaïotis, the man who for nearly 20 years shaped the contemporary identity of the oldest Champagne Maison. And on this very point, the message that emerged from the meeting in Milan with Caroline Fiot was clear: Ruinart’s future will be built in the name of continuity, without abandoning a vision increasingly oriented toward research, innovation, and sustainability.
Having joined the Maison in 2016 at Panaïotis’ invitation, Fiot—an agronomist and oenologist by training—has been involved in some of the most representative projects of the past decade, from Second Skin to Blanc Singulier, contributing to the development of reflections on the future of Chardonnay and on Champagne’s adaptation to climate change. Today she inherits an important legacy: preserving the elegance, precision, and harmony that have made Ruinart an absolute benchmark of contemporary Champagne, while guiding the Maison toward new frontiers of experimentation.
A complex challenge. But also one of the most fascinating that the world of Champagne is called to face today.
Maison Ruinart’s vision of Chardonnay and the encounter with Antonio Guida’s cuisine
The Milan stop on May 19, in the evocative courtyard of Seta at the Mandarin Oriental, perfectly embodied this philosophy. Alongside Caroline Fiot, two‑Michelin‑starred chef Antonio Guida crafted a four‑course gastronomic journey capable of expressing—through dialogue with some of the Maison’s most iconic cuvées—the elegance of Chardonnay according to Ruinart.
The opening was entrusted to Ruinart Blanc de Blancs Magnum, paired with oysters, potatoes, friggitelli peppers, caviar, and Champagne sauce. A combination that highlighted the mineral tension and marine salinity of the dish, showcasing the stylistic precision of the cuvée.
With Ruinart Blanc Singulier Edition 19 Magnum, the experience shifted register. Roasted blue lobster with bagna cauda, cuttlefish, and vanilla bisque engaged with a Champagne created to interpret the region’s climatic evolution, where aromatic depth, texture, and freshness chased one another in perfect balance.
The central moment of the lunch was entrusted to Dom Ruinart 2013, paired with sea bass accompanied by cauliflower, redcurrants, and Vin Jaune sauce. A dish in which elegance, precision, and complexity found exemplary harmony, enhancing the extraordinary ageing potential of Ruinart’s Chardonnay.
The finale featured Dom Ruinart 2009 Magnum, matched with a white‑tea poached pear with lemon chantilly, herb sauce, and marigold leaf sorbet. A closing of rare harmony, built on the encounter between maturity, freshness, and refined aromatic complexity.
More than a simple tasting, it was a four‑act narrative dedicated to Ruinart’s style. A journey showing how cuisine can become the ideal tool to interpret the present and, above all, the future of the Maison.
A future revealed to us by the person who will shape it: the new Chef de Caves, Caroline Fiot.
Looking at Champagne’s evolution since 2016, when you joined Maison Ruinart’s Comité de Dégustation, what have been the most significant changes you’ve observed?
I believe the most evident change concerns the growing awareness around sustainability and the effects of climate change. These were already present ten years ago, but today they occupy a central role in the decisions of the Maisons. We see it in vineyard management, harvest dates, and winemaking practices. Earlier harvests and new climatic conditions have made these reflections even more urgent.
Another important evolution concerns consumer expectations. In the past, we produced Champagne mainly according to our own vision and taste. Today we pay much more attention to what consumers want to find in their glass.
The topic of dosage also fits into this evolution: the reduction of sugar is not just a trend, but the result of a broader adaptation involving the vineyard, the raw material, and the entire production process.
As Chef de Caves, your role is to preserve the precision and freshness that define Ruinart’s style. But is there a specific personal contribution you wish to bring to the Maison?
I don’t think my role is to leave a personal signature: Ruinart has existed for almost 300 years and must continue to exist for another 300. I simply represent one chapter of this story.
My mission is to ensure continuity. I was fortunate to be trained by Frédéric Panaïotis, who passed on his vision, his rigor, and his way of interpreting Champagne.
Naturally, there will be small daily adjustments—perhaps invisible to enthusiasts—but part of the natural evolution of a Maison. And there will also be more ambitious projects and innovations capable of leaving a mark, just as some choices have done in Ruinart’s recent history.
Moreover, the Maison’s 300th anniversary is approaching, and we are working on projects that will certainly be delightful surprises.
Does the role of Chef de Caves today require primarily scientific skills or a broader, more humanistic vision?
It depends greatly on the Maison’s philosophy, but I believe the answer lies in the balance between the two dimensions.
On one hand, scientific rigor, technical skills, and analytical ability are essential. These are aspects I learned from Frédéric Panaïotis and consider fundamental.
On the other hand, curiosity, intuition, and openness are equally necessary. One must be ready to seize opportunities when they arise.
I believe the role of Chef de Caves is precisely this: finding balance between technical precision and creative sensitivity. Skills can be acquired, but the ability to imagine new possibilities, interpret the future, and welcome unexpected ideas is just as important.
Is there a Champagne terroir you feel particularly connected to, or wines outside the region that inspire your daily work?
Champagne’s richness lies in the extraordinary diversity of its terroirs. Each village expresses a different personality, and this is especially evident when we work on Blanc de Blancs assemblages.
I love the elegance and finesse of Chardonnay from the Côte des Blancs, but also the structure of the Montagne de Reims, the more exotic character of the Côte de Sézanne, and the refined opulence of Montgueux. I also find Villers‑Marmery particularly fascinating, as it uniquely combines structure and freshness.
Outside Champagne, I mostly drink Burgundy Chardonnay. It’s a passion that developed over time. Early in my career I was very oriented toward Bordeaux, but working daily with Chardonnay led me to discover a growing affinity with great Burgundian whites. Among the producers I admire most are Pierre Girardin, Jean‑François Roulot, François Mikulski, Jean‑Claude Ramonet, and Hubert Lamy. I also greatly appreciate Clothilde Lafarge’s work with Pinot Noir.
And in a completely different register, I enjoy some great Chasselas from Savoie.
As guardian of Maison Ruinart’s cellar keys, you’ve surely had the opportunity to taste historic vintages: is there one that left a particularly vivid memory?
Without a doubt, Ruinart’s 1926 vintage. Recently, the sommelier at Paul Bocuse found 18 bottles in the chef’s personal cellar during a move. They weren’t even inventoried: a completely unexpected discovery.
The bottles were in extraordinary condition, with perfect levels and surprising preservation. I must admit I was initially quite skeptical: I feared a wine far from our expectations. Instead, I was deeply impressed.
Naturally, the bubbles had disappeared, but the wine still retained remarkable aromatic intensity, great fruit presence, and surprising freshness. It was the era of Extra Dry Champagne, with much higher dosages than today, and this likely contributed to its extraordinary longevity.
Sharing that tasting with the team was an emotional moment. For all of us, it was the oldest wine we had ever tasted. It was an extraordinary testament to Champagne’s ability to transcend time. And of course, the hope is that a hundred years from now, someone might feel the same emotion tasting a Ruinart from 2026.
