The Night is Dark and Full of Terroir


Through all of its nipple flashing, throat cutting, and awkward sibling relationships, HBO’s hit series, Game of Thrones, has taught us that wine is as much a part of fantasy as it is our own reality.

In fact, many of Tyrion Lanister’s best comments in the series come after one (38) glasses of red wine, and the raging (redacted) that is Cersei Lannister even displays a bit of wit after indulging herself in some of Westeros’ best vino.

While the casual viewer may not realize it, neither Lannister is truly afraid of the coming winter, the High Sparrow, or what Jon Snow may, or may not, actually know — which is, undoubtedly, nothing. What keeps them both awake late into the long, dark night, is terroir — one of the most hotly contested words, ideas, and approaches to winemaking on Earth, and probably Westeros too.

Once the wine hits their lips, and ours too, what is actually tasted, a grape varietal or a place?

In 2013, the United States overtook France as the world’s top consumer of wine, experiencing a 1% increase from the year before while the French bought nearly 7% less than in 2012. Going back to 2005, the U.S. has experienced an 18% increase in volume consumption of the world’s most iconic fermented grape juice. France still holds an edge over the U.S. in terms of per-capita consumption.

Now, you may wonder where the wine that U.S. consumers are buying comes from. The world’s top three wine producing countries are France, Italy, and Spain, and they combine to produce nearly half of all wine produced on Earth. The world’s largest single wine-growing region, Languedoc-Roussillon in southern France, produces more wine alone than the entire United States. We Americans can buy the juice, but more than likely it’s coming from abroad.

With the U.S. being the only country in the global top five of per-capita consumption posting an increase in numbers every year since 2000, it’s clear that as more Americans become of legal drinking age, more and more of them are picking wine, both domestic and foreign, as a regular beverage option.. What they are drinking — and how their preferences may evolve — will determine whether the U.S. continues to lead the world in wine consumption.

Most everyone is familiar with the basic varietals you can buy for $5 up to $100 plus — Chardonnay, Cabernet, Pinot Noir, and so on. Yet, so many young drinkers in America seem puzzled by foreign wine. The confusion starts with the labels. To illustrate, I took to Facebook and began talking to a number of close friends, asking each of them to tell me which they were more familiar with, major varietal names used by American producers or their foreign AOP, DOCa, or DOCG counterparts — the common, and often only permissible, identifier because many foreign wine regulations prohibit the listing of a wine’s varietal(s) on the label.

Unsurprisingly, near everyone said that they were familiar with the varietal name but not the region. Some asked questions along the lines of, “What is Sancerre?”

Thus, the conflict between the emerging wine audience of the U.S. and Europe’s proud tradition of paying homage to terroir.

A little background. France’s Appellation d’origine contrôlée (AOC) system was established in 1937 as a way to combat pervasive fraud. With the French wine labels displaying vineyard sites to denote where a wine’s grapes were harvested, regulation was needed to define objectively which vines comprised which sites, how different vineyards could be harvested, and where the borders between each vineyard site were to be drawn.

The Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée system, using early, self-imposed guidelines in Châteauneuf-du-Pape as a model, stipulated limits on yields, vineyard density, training and pruning techniques, grape varietals, methods of production, minimum alcohol levels, minimum must weights, and the geographical boundaries of each appellation. AOC wines must pass a tasting panel. The Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) became a model for many other European appellation systems, as France’s controlled appellations assured authenticity and, to a degree, style. The INAO awarded the first AOCs in 1936; by 2011 over 480 AOC appellations were granted, and over 50% of France’s wines were released as AOC — hardly the intention of the system’s original proponents, who wished to protect and enshrine France’s most valuable wines. Like most appellation systems, France’s AOC had become a bloated category and one not necessarily indicative of quality. — GuildSomm.com

Nowhere in the world is this more complicated and intrinsic to the viniculture than Burgundy, in central France, between Dijon (north) and Lyon (south). Villages are dissected into various AOPs, and within those AOPs, certain vineyard sites are classified into a four-tier system comprised of régionale, village, premier (1er) cru, and grand cru distinctions.

The point of such a tier system, and the display of the appropriate tier on the wine bottle’s label, is to provide the consumer with an idea of where the wine is from and the resulting qualitative distinction of the bottle’s contents relative to wine made from grapes grown elsewhere.

This brings up terroir, the idea that a specific wine has the ability to express unique characteristics passed on from the vineyards where the grapes are grown. It is the idea that wine has a sense of place.

Terroir is also one of the most debated ideas in the world of wine. First of all, is it anything more than romanticism working its way into the mind of a wine drinker, or the palate of a wine drinker? Is it worth it to pay $3,200 for a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti La Tâche as opposed to high quality bottle of Bourgogne classified wine? Are the characteristics in these wines worth the admiration that they have received, and the price that they have then demanded? The answer is — it depends. For those who have “trained” their palates to detect the more minute details of a wine’s expression, the answer would be yes. How will America’s young wine drinkers answer the question? Historically, I would say in the negative.

Working as a hand seller at the biggest liquor store in Boulder County, home to the University of Colorado, I had plenty of opportunities to interact with young drinkers, many of whom are generally interested in expanding their enjoyment of wine. However, except for the extreme exceptions, none of them are looking to spend more than $10–$15 per bottle.

Why? Well, first of all, most of these wine purchases are coming on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings. What in the world could these young drinkers be up to that would require the purchase of alcoholic beverages?

No matter how delicious that bottle of Burgundy may be, the sad reality of the world is that blacking out is much more efficiently accomplished by chugging bourbon than sipping wine. Thus, $12.98 Evan Williams often does the job just fine.

When I did have the opportunity to convince these young, impressionable minds that drinking doesn’t just have to be about the inevitable hangover and regrettable decisions, that it can also be about enjoying your beverage in a deliberate, slow paced fashion, they wanted something they recognized.

Chardonnay. Cabernet Sauvignon. Pinot Noir. Maybe, maybe Malbec. Start talking about Macon-Villages or Graves and most of them lose interest pretty quickly.

To be fair, there are those wines coming from France — outside of the AOPs, or otherwise, that have labeling restrictions — that prominently display their varietal or blend. These are the wines that young wine drinkers often flock to, when looking for something outside of their comfort zone.


Economics, Somm, and #WineWednesday

There are, however, some forces at work that have helped engage young drinkers with the wines of the world.

Despite the progress made by the U.S. economy since its collapse in 2008, job prospects for millennials and recent college graduates are, if the experience of this writer means anything, abysmal.

The competition for entry-level work that pays a respectable salary is, shall we say, fierce. Sporting a B.A. doesn’t carry the same weight as it used to, and the more job listings one reads, the more one notices how often employers are seeking graduate-level education for their lower-tier positions. Increasingly, college career counselors are sounding more and more like Omar Little in Season One of The Wire:

All in the game, right?
“Look man, I do what I can do to help y’all. But the game is out there, and it’s either play or get played.”

Indeed, the game is out there, and for so many young college graduates, it’s doing much more of the playing. Many of these graduates are turning back towards the service-industry jobs they endured through their college years to bring in a steady paycheck.

As a consequence, even if they can’t afford to purchase them for personal consumption, they are exposed to their employer’s selections of fine beverages, from craft beer or liquor, to the more expensive bottles of wine that they are tasked of up-selling to guests of the establishment. This has, in part, helped address the issue of young consumers not being open to the more unique, terroir- driven wines that are available in the U.S. marketplace.

The documentary Somm has also played in a role in the evolving role wine has played with its younger demographic.

Available to stream on Netflix, the film followed four men during their quest to pass the Master Sommelier Exam, considered to be the most rigorous wine-related test in the world, while showcasing many different aspects of wine culture. By focusing on four reasonably normal young American guys trying to reach the top of their chosen profession, the film humanized the study and practice of wine experts and opened a window into what is often regarded as a closed and rather arrogant community. There were legitimate moments of wine snobbery, where it’s not hard to see why some feel intimidated by the wine industry. There were scenes where the vast array of industry jargon is on full display, again confirming the language barrier between those “in the know” and those on the outside who are trying to decide whether to stick their whole foot in the proverbial water.

At other times, though, Somm showcased the wine industry and its workers for qualities that anyone, no matter their wine knowledge, could admire and, possibly, adore.

My favorite example of this would have to be the scene where the candidates are seated around a table, participating in a practice tasting at home. It becomes very clear, very quickly, that these men (and one woman) are like so many drinkers of so many varieties. They talk trash to everyone around them, sometimes picking one member of the group to tease in a particularly heavy-handed manner. They say, fuck. They don’t exactly mind getting a bit tipsy off of wine, rather than always treating it as though it were Holy Water, only to be used for the most sacred of occasions.

Given the addiction that people in the 21–32 demographic tend to have to Netflix, the movie has reached a wider audience than perhaps anyone could have predicted.

And then there is #WineWednesday. The origins of the phenomenon known as #WineWednesday elude me. No amount of Google research can land me on one damn website that seems to have an answer for the question, “Where did it come from?” But it’s real, oh so real.

My experience with Wine Wednesday began in the fall of 2014, while working at a local winery in Boulder. Why it started, I may never remember. But it did. Every Wednesday, a group of people would come over to my house — the rule was that each person should share a bottle with the group, though fewer people brought their own as the weeks went by — and drink a variety of wines together. The nights often went into the wee-hours of the morning, with one or two even lasting until sunrise. At one point, I would receive texts from four or five different friend groups, all asking what time Wine Wednesday was supposed to start and what they should bring. It was thing.

Most of the bottles brought were of the $10 and under, domestic, French varietal type. After some time though, people started to bring Malbec, Rioja, South African Chenin Blanc, and other wines from throughout the world. In short, people were starting to take a chance on wines outside of their comfort zone. There were five or six minutes every week where I’d break down a few background notes with regards to the wine I shared, but the night was based around being social with those around you, and not on being some kind of educational gathering. The curiosity exhibited by those that began to attend was entirely grown in an organic fashion, cultivated by the experiences they shared with others, while holding a glass of wine.


If anyone drinks Merlot…

The world of wine, much like every other industry, must continue to evolve with each new demographic that becomes eligible to purchase its products. The wine business is a on a growth curve, evidenced by the number of vineyards and winemakers that come online every year. To continue to grow, the industry will need to respond to the preferences of younger consumers, some of whom will be more interested and adventurous — and more willing and able to spend — than others. Better and better wines must continue finding their ways into 3L boxes. Labels must continue to become inventive and engaging to the eye, while also becoming more and more clear as to what is inside the bottle. On top of these considerations, as climate change persists, wineries must evolve their growing practices, while the industry as a whole follows climate trends to develop new growing regions.

What the wine industry doesn’t have to do, though, is completely abandon the regulations that it has in place to fight fraud, simply because some young drinkers may never gravitate towards terroir-driven wines.

This writer does not have a problem with wineries, importers, or distributors who, in an effort to make their product more marketable to American drinkers, forego the opportunity to produce wine that some may consider to be of a higher quality than other wines. That is their prerogative.

However, for those that do tend the vines within some of the world’s most prestigious, terroir-driven vineyards, I applaud you. I applaud your pursuit of a wine that so uniquely represents the soil that it comes from, that it could not have possibly been grown, nurtured, and produced anywhere else in the world.

Some may never wish to explore what you have painstakingly released for the enjoyment of others; they may never wish to pay for the chance to enjoy your wine. Some may never look at a bottle of Chevalier-Montrachet and know that it could be some of the best Chardonnay in the world; they may never care. Others will want to explore, indulge in, and discover the world’s finest wines.

Both types of consumers can exist in the world of wine. There is plenty of room for them to coexist, and the line between them will never be solid, allowing what defines one kind of consumer from another to always be in a state of fluctuation.