Some of the Valais’s best parcels sit at angles that make machinery impossible. Everything is done by hand, on foot, often with a basket strapped to the back. We spent a morning with a winemaker who works these terraces the way her grandparents did.

Behind every bottle from these hills is a quiet calculation of risk and patience. She talks about frost, about back pain, and about the single south-facing wall that ripens her best fruit two weeks ahead of everything else.