(Claude Auguste)
With the passing of Guy Bonnefoit, the wine world has lost a figure who today seems like a relic from another era. Not because his work is outdated – quite the contrary. But because the world in which it was created was a different one: a time when wine was not discussed as a lifestyle accessory or a moral issue, but simply as what it had been for centuries, almost exclusively: alongside water, a companion to a meal.
Bonnefoit understood wine precisely in this way, and in no other: as part of a meal, as an accompaniment to food. And whilst he was not the inventor of food and wine pairing, he was the one who recorded thousands of combinations, thus becoming the archivist of the sommelier schools of the 1970s and 1980s
Born in Paris in 1938, he later lived and worked in Germany for many years. His career took him through the classical school of the European hospitality industry: restaurants, hotels, kitchens and wine cellars. There he learnt what many of today’s wine experts hardly ever learn: not just to describe wine, but to think of it in the context of the table.
In the catering industry of the post-war decades, this skill was part and parcel of the trade. Sommeliers, restaurant managers and head chefs did not seek out the most spectacular wine, but rather the right wine to accompany the right dish. Wine was part of a narrative, not an end in itself. And Guy Bonnefoit mastered this art to perfection.
Those who knew him recall an astonishing precision of perception. For him, aromas were not poetic metaphors, but a vocabulary. He spoke about wine as if describing a piece of music: structured, analytical, sometimes almost austere – and yet always with a subtle sense of humour that never quite concealed his French origins.
This approach culminated in two monumental books, which today seem almost like encyclopaedic time machines. In them, Bonnefoit catalogued thousands of wines, analysed their aromas and – crucially – paired them with suitable dishes. That may sound simple. In fact, it is a major intellectual achievement.
For the pairing of wine and food is not a rigid set of rules, but a delicate interplay of acidity, fat, salt, texture and temperature. Bonnefoit approached this interplay with a seriousness reminiscent of scientific research – and at the same time with the serenity of a man who knew that, in the end, enjoyment always remains a matter of pleasure.
Anyone leafing through Bonnefoit’s books today embarks on a journey into a world that scarcely exists in this form anymore: the world of classical gastronomy, in which menus were composed like little symphonies and wine did not stand in isolation in a glass, but had its place at the table. This culture has changed.
Today, food is politicised, meat is subject to moralising, and alcohol is treated as a problem. In public debates, wine often appears as part of a health-related or ideological conflict. The great gastronomic tradition from which Bonnefoit emerged – that elegant fusion of cuisine, cellar and service – has faded in many places. Or disappeared altogether. That is precisely why Bonnefoit’s books seem so remarkable today, for they remind us that wine was once something other than a lifestyle product or a subject of moral debate. It was part of a cultural practice: people sat together, ate, drank, discussed – and the wine brought it all together. And Guy Bonnefoit understood this connection better than most.
He tasted tens of thousands of wines in his lifetime, yet his true passion was never merely about evaluation. He was interested in the moment when a wine and a dish suddenly bring out the best in one another – that moment familiar to good sommeliers, when a brief silence falls at the table because, all of a sudden, everything comes together. Bonnefoit believed that it is in such moments that the true essence of wine lies.
Guy Bonnefoit spent his life seeking out, explaining and recording these moments. The fact that his books are still read today is because they are more than just wine guides. They are records of a culture of enjoyment that is increasingly being lost. Perhaps one day they will be rediscovered. For wine, as Guy Bonnefoit knew, does not belong in a tasting room or on the internet.
It belongs at the table.