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FINE WINE

What makes people feel so befuddled and out of their depths when it comes to wine? Partly, this is because of the staggering variety — wine is enough for a lifetime, but a lifetime is not enough for wine. But the main reason I suspect is labelling. Most European wines are named by the regions in which the grapes grow rather than the name of the grapes itself. The reason for this is the belief that regions determine the character of the wine. The French, particularly, attribute a lot of importance to the influence of terroir (loosely soil, but in truth, a combination of factors including rain and sunshine).

For the uninitiated, however, it does not throw much light by describing a wine as a Bordeaux, Burgundy or Chateauneuf-du-Pape — all regions in France. I have met many people who swear by Bordeaux, which produces some of the world’s greatest wines, but how many really know what they are drinking? If it is a red, it could be Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Petite Verdot or Malbec — the principal varietals.

And then, it could be some combination of some or all these. And finally, it matters hugely if the wines come either from the right bank or left bank (of the river Gironde) because the terroir is so different.

The European system of labelling by geographic origin as opposed to the type of grape is much too confusing for the average wine lover. In contrast, American and Australian wine-makers display the grape varietal (or varietals if blended) squarely on the bottle. This helps people familiarise themselves with the grape, and learn to distinguish between what they like and dislike.

It is true that many factors such as soil, rain, sunshine, and a range of pre-harvest and post-harvest techniques determine the nature of a wine. For years, we drank our Chardonnays heavily oaked until wine-makers decided they could introduce a delightfully lighter zestier version by either lightly oaking the wine or dispensing with ageing it in wooden barrels altogether. The wines they produce are strikingly different, of course. But at the end of the day, a Chardonnay is still a Chardonnay.

European wine-makers are beginning to realise that they must demystify their wines. But old habits, particularly when they are steeped in a ritual and tradition, are not easy to change. In Bordeaux, for instance, the official wine classification — conducted in 1855 at the behest of Napoleon III — is no longer an accurate guide to the quality of wines.

But, the 1855 classification, which ranks wines in one of five divisions (from premier crus to cinquiemes crus), survives with two small changes, the last in 1973, thanks to some powerful lobbying by an influential winemaker.

New-world products are a much better bet if you want to familiarise yourself with the world of wines. There are easier to understand and you invariably know what you are drinking.

The author is a regular wine enthusiast. He is learning along the way.

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