Varietal vs. Terroir
If I'm looking to communicate what a wine is like, I'll choose varietal
A wine made from Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon will taste more like a wine made from Bordeaux with Cabernet Sauvignon than will a wine made from Bordeaux with Merlot, Pinot Noir, or Syrah. The reason is that grape varietal is a much better predictor of a wine’s character than is the terroir in which the grapes that went into wine were grown.
This is why I continue to believe that the practice of labeling a wine first by varietal, then by region, is the most efficient way to communicate the character and taste of the wine in the bottle.
Of course, the best way to communicate the character and taste of a wine is for the winemaker to lay it all out on the bottle—probably on the back label of the wine. Far more than region and varietal can be outlined in this manner, but so can all sorts of information such as the wine’s strength, flavors, aromas and so much more, including suggested food pairings.
I’m reminded of my bias for varietal over terroir in labeling protocol and communication to consumers after reading an interesting article by Clara Dalzell in the New York Sun. In the article, Clara writes:
“There is little chance of any new world region adopting the mentality of only producing one style of wine per place and applying the Old World labeling convention. For now we will have to taste broadly or guess what each grape tastes like in each unique place. In contrast, the European model, where climate, soils, and winemaking traditions produce consistently styled wine no matter the grape variety used, gives the drinker a glimpse into what they can expect before they ever pop the cork.”
Clara is a good writer and a smart cookie. Moreover, she is the general manager of a truly great New York City wine shop, Flatiron Wine & Spirits. All that is why I’m hesitant to disagree with her, but I’m pretty sure she’ll take my disagreement in the spirit in which it is intended…as a sort of dialogue.
In Clara’s formulation, one need only understand a regional style in order to have a good idea of what a bottle of wine will deliver to the palate. But, I’d argue, the same or better understanding can be had with knowledge of what a particular grape variety will deliver. In her article, Ms. Dalzell notes that New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc would never be confused with Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc. But that’s not entirely true. The fact is that the character, flavors, and aromas Sauvignon Blanc grapes produce in a wine are similar whether it is Sauvignon Blanc grapes grown in New Zealand, Napa Valley, or South Africa.
More important is the purpose of identifying the varietal or the region on a label. It’s not just for categorization or legal purposes. It’s for educational purposes as Clara points out in her article. And the fact is, the vast majority of wine is drunk by average wine drinkers whose knowledge of wine, grape varieties, and region, let alone winemaking techniques, is fairly limited. So, when we ask what method of identifying a wine on a label is likely to be more efficient in communicating how the wine is going to taste, the varietal seems to me to be the clear answer.
In fact, more people in the U.S., and possibly around most of the world, would have a better idea of what white “Burgundy” is likely to taste like if “Chardonnay” were highlighted on the bottle, rather than any region, because the Chardonnay grape produces wine with the same identifiable characteristics that can be found in its wines made in Burgundy, the Sonoma Coast, the Willamette Valley, and Chile or elsewhere.
You should not construe any of this to mean I’m dismissing or even dissing the idea of terroir, though that idea has, of late, taken on more subjective dimensions than simply soil, climate, elevation, and aspect of the land. The truth of terroir, of the impact of natural forces on the growth of fruit on a grapevine, is incontrovertible. Just plant Cabernet Sauvignon in Napa Valley and in the Sahara desert. You can probably get the latter to grow grapes, but they’ll produce distinctly different wine than the Napa Cabernet.
Still, the genetics of Cabernet (clone for clone) are the same no matter where it is grown. And those genetics will produce a similar set of characteristics in wines from around the globe, particularly when you consider that there is a cross-section of the globe defined by a latitudinal band in the Northern and Southern hemispheres where most all wine grapes are cultivated.
I think there is a tendency to discount varietal labeling on wine in favor of regional labeling because to those in the know and those with a sophisticated understanding of wine there is a bias against New World (particularly Californian) wines, where region is not the primary organizing principle. Moreover, those with a more sophisticated understanding of wine demand a bit more sophistication from their wines, and regional labeling is just that—a somewhat deeper, more complicated organizing structure.
Hi Tom. Dan Berger and I have been debating this for years. The whole thing started with Frank Schoonmaker, whose powerful import company in the late forties declared that he would not represent any French wine that listed a variety on the label (he made an exception for Alsace) and conversely, would list no American wine (with the exception of cheap semi-generics) unless it listed the variety! I guess he thought that the legal varieties had been codified in Europe so anybody with any schooling knows that Bourgogne Blanc is Chardonnay, and the more important style and quality variable was place. Whereas Americans at that time were nowhere near that point.
It was Gallo that coined the term "varietal character" when working with Winkler and the sensory folks at U.C. Davis to determine where the various cultivars ought best be planted in the wake of the chaos of Prohibition. Varietal character was promoted to the status of a God by folks like Tchelistcheff who bragged on his back labels about 100% Cabernet Sauvignon, despite that the Bordelais had worked out that this is never the case in their conditions and U.C. Davis confirmed (Amerine and Webb) that randomized blends of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot outperformed the pure varieties without exception!
Your point of view is an artifact of an outdated judging custom of presenting varietal flights to judges with no information as to where they come from. In such an environment, how is anyone to learn about regional differences.
When wines are presented in regional groups, such as Viogniers from Sonoma, Snake River and Virginia, it becomes instantly obvious that the commonalities within regions are far more striking than the so-called "varietal character." Ever since I started tasting wines in this way at Appellation America, I have been overwhelmed by the dominance of regional character over variety. The black cherry one always find in Russian River Pinot Noir and nowhere else is also present in the Petite Sirah. All Livermore reds smell like lemons. East side Paso Robles reds all smell like orange peel and cocoa.
It is clear that the consumer needs to see both on the label, along with stylistic prose on the back label and an ABV. To rely on variety alone is to disqualify many great wines because they don't fit your box. I can't count the number of arguments judging Viogniers such as Pilot Peak, which has no peaches or oil and is easily mistaken for a racy Sauvignon Blanc, where judges won't give it more that a Silver despite admitting it's the best wine in the category because it doesn't conform to their ignorant notion of what Viognier can be.
It can even be proposed that some varieties have so much variability that they don't even have any unifying traits: Grenache, Cabernet Franc (what fool would put Chinon in the same blind flight as St. Emilion?) and I think Sauvignon Blanc is a good example.
In sum, I think the market is sufficiently dumbed down regarding variety recognition, and now wine producers (especially the 99% under 5,000 cases) have evolved to the point where regional differences are more useful to focus on. As the number of newbie consumers declines, the good news is that those who remain are getting more experienced, smarter, more curious, and less in need of oversimplification. Our salvation is in our diversity for those who care. For those who just want to cop a pleasant buzz, let them eat Cupcake. I choose quality over quantity in the customers I court and serve.