(Claude Auguste, Editorial Team)
There are wines that live from the tradition of winemaking. And there are wines that have been overrun by movements that believe wine is also a kind of political programme – the political statement of wine drinkers and consumers. At the end of the 1990s, the latter happened twice over: two ideological currents wanted to redefine Chardonnay – or drive it out altogether. Both failed. And that shows what is in vogue today: no dogmas!
Anything but Chardonnay!
The first slogan was “ABC” – Anything but Chardonnay. Raised in the USA, it was a battle cry against the ubiquitous, often heavily oaked Chardonnay – wines that were also difficult to enjoy because of their massive barrique character. Anyone who wanted to be seen as discerning in 1999 (especially in the USA) ordered Sauvignon Blanc, Chenin or Riesling. People wanted to distance themselves from supposedly banal consumer tastes, from the heaviness of the “Buttery Chardonnays” that were fashionable in California at the time – and were genuinely undrinkable.
It was an uprising of the intellectuals among wine drinkers – a minority. They wanted to make wine more diverse, more exciting, finer. And yes, for a short time it was chic to order Sauvignon, praise Riesling and celebrate Chenin Blanc. But the figures tell a different story: America drinks more Chardonnay today than ever before. This is partly because import duties on other white wines are high and because Chardonnay simply works in the USA – it grows, it carries, it delivers reliable quality. “ABC” was a hashtag before social media existed. In the end, it remained a slogan, not a revolution.
No oak!
The second movement was even more absurd: it wanted to save Chardonnay by taking the wood away from it. “Unoaked Chardonnay” became the buzzword. Stainless-steel tanks instead of barriques and tonneaux, freshness instead of butter, youthfulness instead of toasting. And for a year or two, it seemed as though a new era had been proclaimed.
I still remember my first encounter with one of these “Unoaked Chardonnays”. It was at the well-known fair in Düsseldorf, in the early 2000s. I lifted the glass, took the first sip – and waited. There was moderate fruit, there was excessively fresh freshness, but there was also an emptiness that almost embarrassed me. Chardonnay without wood tasted to me like a concert without strings: correct, orderly, yet without a soul. I put the glass aside, smiled politely and knew: this movement would not live long.
For Chardonnay without wood is like a novel without language. Of course, it can be matured in steel; the French sometimes do this with simple Bourgogne Blanc – but not without putting some of the must into a used barrel. Yet the grape variety only achieves greatness in dialogue with the barrel. For almost 150 years, Chardonnay in Burgundy has been fermented and matured in wood. It is a marriage that works. Anyone who wants Chardonnay wants substance. And with this grape variety, substance does not require extended skin contact alone (if at all), but wood.
Ideology and wine: leave it out!
Both movements, “Anything but Chardonnay” and “Unoaked Chardonnay”, had one thing in common: they wanted to force wine into an ideological mould. They preached, they polemicised, they wanted to impose consumer habits. At the same time, Nicolas Joly appeared with his radical biodynamic stance – the first modern “natural wine god”. He too was celebrated like a prophet at the time.
But history shows that ideologies have little staying power in wine. Wine is not a religion. It is culture, craftsmanship, agriculture and pleasure. Movements that instrumentalise it rarely last longer than a few vintages. They may make headlines, but they do not shape a generation.
The market, the palate, tradition – all of this is stronger. In the USA, people drink Chardonnay today – with wood and without a guilty conscience. In France, people continue to fill barrels, as they have for centuries. And in Germany and Austria, the ABC slogan never really impressed anyone.
Enough already!
What remains? Chardonnay has remained what it was. It has survived the attacks, outlasted the fashions, and once again proved itself to be the great white grape variety of the world. Sauvignon, Riesling, Chenin – they all have their niche, their devotees, their homeland. But no ideological movement could knock Chardonnay from its throne.
And that is the real lesson: wine needs no ideology. It needs winemakers who take it seriously, vineyards that support it, and drinkers who love it. Everything else is an interlude – as short-lived as a summer trend.