The wine writer and entrepreneur Matthew Jukes has died suddenly at the age of 58. In this personal tribute, his close friend and fellow wine writer Libby Brodie reflects on a legend of the wine industry and a man whose warmth extended far beyond it.

Matthew Jukes was, without exaggeration, one of the finest people I encountered in my wine career — and one of the finest human beings I have ever known. He was a friend, a mentor, a colleague, and a brilliant co-host at last year's Toast the City Awards for this newspaper.

He was clever, funny, honourable, and generous — impossibly in love with his wonderful wife, Amelia, and a warmly devoted father to his daughters and two young sons. Sadly, and all too unfairly, he passed away unexpectedly at just 58 years old. Much will be written about his four decades of success in the industry, a career that spanned a period of profound transformation in how wine is written about, marketed, and enjoyed in Britain, with Jukes consistently among the voices pushing for openness over exclusivity. But this is my personal tribute.

Always a Gentleman

We first met years ago when I was asked to host a panel interviewing wine experts. I was new to the field, younger and more female than most people in any wine room at the time, and the other all-male panellists largely ignored me before the event began. Matthew could not have been more different. He bounded in and greeted me enthusiastically, offering compliments about my career. During the panel interview, he was the only participant who turned the questions back to me, saying: "Well you're also a wine expert, Libby — what do you think?" He was immediately respectful, inclusive, and supportive, a refreshing change in that era.

This openness of spirit — the absence of snobbery or gatekeeping — was central to his character and, in an industry long criticised for elitism, quietly radical. He suffered no fools. At trade events he zeroed in on the task at hand with a silent, determined focus, brushing off small talk and distractions until the work was complete. Then, having given the job the respect he felt it deserved, he would turn affable, suggesting drinks he would inevitably insist on paying for.

He was a gregarious, generous host. At a recent celebration for his wedding anniversary, my partner complimented the tawny port, only to have the bottle pressed upon him as we left. We had no idea of its expense until we later tried to buy another.

He maintained an unusually strict moral code regarding freebies. He always paid his own way, insisting it was part of supporting the industry. If he discovered a bill had been settled by someone else, he would donate the equivalent amount to charity.

A Wine Writer Like No Other

He was superb at his craft — consistently the wittiest and most amusing event host — and his 100 Best Australian Wines tasting and report became a highlight of the wine calendar, helping bring Australian wines to a wider UK audience at a time when the category was still fighting for critical recognition beyond its traditional strongholds.

Most recently, he took the non-alcoholic drinks world by storm with his Jukes Cordialities, earning multiple awards and listings in Michelin-starred restaurants at a moment when the no- and low-alcohol category has become one of the fastest-growing segments of the global drinks market. I urge you to try them: from the refreshingly excellent Believe (Tesco, £9) to my personal favourite, Jukes 8 Sparkling Rosé in a can (cans from Waitrose, £4; bottles from jukescordialities.com, £8), or the award-winning Sparkling Collection (12 cans, £52).

The drinks world has lost one of its brightest communicators and most passionate enthusiasts. I have lost my friend and advocate. My thoughts are with his beloved family, who meant more to Matthew than anything else.

I know he would be humbly dismissive as I write this, but Matthew Jukes left the world in a better state than he found it. He is, and always will be, missed.