Sparkling wine is one of the culinary world’s most interesting creations. Many compete for the credit: the monks of Limoux in the South of France claim 1531 as the date of genesis; the Champenois, with their stories of widows and Benedictine monks, have certainly won the publicity war; and even the Brits, who invented glass thick enough to contain the pressure, stake a claim in the world of bubbles.
Burgundy isn’t always the most accessible of wines. The classification system is confusing, many bottles need cellaring, food pairing can be tricky, and there’s often a hefty entry fee. So we’re are always on the lookout for entry-level Burgundy — wine that drinks well young and that won’t break the bank.
Beside Chablis, the best secret in a white Burgundy lover’s cellar is his stash of St. Aubin. The village is easy to miss, wedged in a valley between Puligny-Montrachet and Chassagne-Montrachet. And though it rightly plays second fiddle to these two giants, it’s still a source for what wine writer Rajat Parr calls “some of the best-value Chardonnays in the world.”
Burgundy is expensive and luxurious by reputation. And with high demand and small supply, the number of Burgundies breaking the $100 per bottle threshold grows every year. We’re always on the hunt for honest, complex red Burgundy that won’t require a second mortgage.
For the careful shopper, the Languedoc can be an abundant resource. Long deserving its reputation for mediocrity, the region has only recently become a source of value. There’s still plenty of bad wine made in the vast region, but if you make good choices, $13 will take you farther here than just about anywhere else.
Meursault, Puligny-Montrachet, and Chassagne-Montrachet get most of the white Burgundy press. But surrounding towns can offer excellent value. Many whites from St-Aubin and Santenay punch way above their weight, as does today’s white Burgundy from Auxey Duresses.
The idea of value is extremely subjective when it comes to wine. A $60 bottle of Burgundy might seem a steal to some, an extravagance to others. But nearly everyone agrees that Muscadet is just about the best bargain going.
Wine classification can be confusing — categorization changes dramatically from one region to another. The Old World tends to identify wines by place, while the New World tends to use grape varietal. It seems a minor shift, but it has important implications for the way people perceive wines.
Cider has seen a recent explosion in popularity. From large beer companies to small scale New England farms, everyone has jumped into the game, and “craft cider” is no longer hard to find. As with wine, cheese, and other culinary arts, most serious American cider makers have made the pilgrimage to France to study the origins of their craft.
We often write about wines that are delicately crafted and perfectly aged — elegant Grand Cru Burgundy, dark woodsy Bordeaux, or mouthfilling Châteauneuf-du-Pape. These are special wines for special occasions, meant to be sat with, contemplated, and savored. Today’s wine is not one of these.
Depending on where it’s grown, Syrah produces an enormous range of wines. Its most famous home is the Northern Rhône Valley, where winemakers grow pure Syrah on the steep hillsides of Côte Rôtie and Saint-Joseph. Further south, Syrah takes on a bit more muscle, and if not monitored carefully, can over-ripen and become heavy and hot.
Pinot Noir is grown around the world — from Germany to California and Oregon to New Zealand. But nowhere does it reach the same level of complexity and elegance as in Burgundy. Pinots from Burgundy inhabit a traditional style that’s increasingly distant from much of the New World’s oak-heavy, fruit-driven trends.
In Burgundy, Grand Cru is as good as it gets. Only 1.3% of wines from Burgundy have the designation, and these are the finest bottles the region has to offer. They’re not exactly priced for weeknight enjoyment, but when there’s a special occasion, they’re awfully nice to have around.
Alsace is a land of beautiful contradictions. Wedged between France and Germany, this charming region changed hands four times between 1918 and 1945. Its inhabitants tend to identify as Alsatian rather than either French or German, and today Alsace incorporates the best traditions – cultural, culinary, oenological – of both nations.
Vineyard plots in Burgundy often bear the names of nearby historic features, many long since vanished. In Meursault, Ormeau and Genevrières are named for the “elm” and “juniper” trees that once stood there. Vide Bourse in Chassagne refers to its location at a dangerous road crossing known for “empty purses.” And the famous grand cru Chambertin was once the the “field” (champ) of a man named Bertin.