The simple complexity of perfect balance
Every myth has its story, and this is ours.
Our beginnings.
At the end of the 19th century, in a small village in the Pre-Pyrenees, the Rius family had a farmhouse surrounded by walnut trees and lemon verbena. Grandmother Teresa Feliu made ratafia every summer following a simple method: green walnuts for Saint John's Day, herbs from her own garden and brandy bought from the local distiller. It wasn't a mystical ritual, it was a household custom.
The soul.
Teresa taught the recipe to her daughter Mercè. They didn't write it down: they learned it by helping to cut nuts, tying bunches of rosemary and thyme, and letting the mixture rest for 40 days in large glass demijohns. Each generation added its own little touch, but always respecting the foundation. It was a family recipe, not a business one.
The legacy.
During the post-war period, when everything was scarce, ratafia continued to be made at home. The herbs were dried in the pantry, the nuts were kept like a small treasure, and the demijohns were hidden so they wouldn't break. The Feliu family never stopped making it, because it was the drink that brought everyone together at festive meals.
The birth.
Today, the descendants of the Feliu family continue to make the same ratafia, inspired by that recipe passed down for more than a hundred years. The difference is that now, for the first time, they have decided to share it with the world. But the essence remains the same: Fresh herbs, green walnuts and family Catalan tradition.
Our beginnings.
At the end of the 19th century, in a small village in the Pre-Pyrenees, the Rius family had a farmhouse surrounded by walnut trees and lemon verbena. Grandmother Teresa Feliu made ratafia every summer following a simple method: green walnuts for Saint John's Day, herbs from her own garden and brandy bought from the local distiller. It wasn't a mystical ritual, it was a household custom.
The soul.
Teresa taught the recipe to her daughter Mercè. They didn't write it down: they learned it by helping to cut nuts, tying bunches of rosemary and thyme, and letting the mixture rest for 40 days in large glass demijohns. Each generation added its own little touch, but always respecting the foundation. It was a family recipe, not a business one.
The legacy.
During the post-war period, when everything was scarce, ratafia continued to be made at home. The herbs were dried in the pantry, the nuts were kept like a small treasure, and the demijohns were hidden so they wouldn't break. The Feliu family never stopped making it, because it was the drink that brought everyone together at festive meals.
The birth.
Today, the descendants of the Feliu family continue to make the same ratafia, inspired by that recipe passed down for more than a hundred years. The difference is that now, for the first time, they have decided to share it with the world. But the essence remains the same: Fresh herbs, green walnuts and family Catalan tradition.
Aromas and flavor
On the nose, it is deep and enveloping. Notes of macerated herbs, dried fruit, and a warm, slightly spicy background. Complex, yet clean. Elegant, without being harsh.
A smooth and rounded entry. Bitter and sweet in perfect balance, with layers that gradually unfold and a long, warm, and lingering finish. A ratafia to be savored slowly, in small amounts.
Rosemary
Intense and balsamic aroma.
Thyme
Herbal and warm.
Lemon verbena
Fresh and citrusy.
Melissa (lemon balm)
Sweet and slightly floral.
Catalonia, land of liqueurs
Catalonia has been, for centuries, a land of artisanal liqueurs.
Among farmhouses, orchards and small villages, families made spirits, ratafies and mistelas, taking advantage of what the land offered: green walnuts, aromatic herbs and seasonal fruits.
Each household had its own recipe, passed down from generation to generation, and ratafia became one of the most authentic symbols of this tradition.
It was not a luxury product, but a part of life: a liquor made with patience, knowledge and respect for the environment.
Today, that culture is still alive.
Catalonia remains a place where liqueurs are not manufactured:
They are made, cared for, and inherited.
RIUS is part of this heritage.
