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A sense of place

Richard Allisette starts a look at the how, why, where and when of turning grapes into wine.

Terroir
Terroir / Shutterstock

So what keeps me in wine – some 40 years or so since I sold my first bottle – why do I still find it as fascinating, possibly more fascinating than I did then?

In a word: diversity. Wine is like people, no two are the same.

My favourite wine writer Andrew Jefford* says it very eloquently: ‘Wine is difference. Wine, indeed, is the product among all of those we eat and drink which comes closest to humanity itself. No two people are exactly alike. No two wines are exactly alike either. Much of the joy of being alive comes from meeting, observing, and listening to other people: and much of the joy of wine comes from tasting the multitude of differences between them. For winemakers too, this pleasure of diversity is paramount. Trying to describe places by sculpting liquid is a fascinating job.’

He goes on ‘The drawback to this small universe of differences is that wine is necessarily complicated... nothing which respects the innate complexity of the universe and of human activity is ever simple. To simplify is to falsify.’

In the past few weeks we have looked at the more unusual grape varieties you may find lurking at the back of your wine merchant’s shelves. Individual grape varieties give a wine its fundamental flavour – but there are a huge number of variables that a grower has to face when making wine – all of which affect the flavour of the finished product. I hope to highlight the most important of these in forthcoming articles as it may help to explain why a wine tastes like it does.

However, whatever a winemaker does to a wine and no matter if his or her vineyard is unlike any other, a pinot noir-based wine is never going to taste like a shiraz, and a pinot grigio-based one is unlikely to ever resemble a gewurztraminer. Grape varieties give a wine its fundamental flavour profile.

So let’s look at some of the variables growers might face when planting a vineyard for the first time.

First of all there are rules and regulations. Most of the officially designated quality-controlled regions in Europe have strict controls over the grape varieties that can be planted, where they can be planted, the density of planting, irrigation and so on.

A grower in Sancerre for instance is allowed to plant sauvignon blanc for his or her white wines and pinot noir for his pink and red wines.

There is nothing to stop him or her planting say chardonnay and merlot but they simply can’t call the wines Sancerre because those varieties aren’t allowed under the appellation controle rules. They would have to sell them as a simple table wine and there is no financial incentive to do that as the wines will not reach the price levels his Sancerre wines would.

There are a few places where the rule-breakers are now selling their rule-breaking wines for a great deal of money (the super-Tuscans of Italy for instance), but these are few and far between.

There is much more freedom in what has become known in wine as the New World. If our Sancerre grower were to move to the Barossa Valley in South Australia for instance he or she can plant whatever grape variety they want to and market it as a Barossa Valley wine. Simply call it Happy Hills shiraz (or whatever) and off they go. Additionally, should they have a complete crop failure one year there is nothing to stop them phoning a mate who has surplus shiraz grapes in Victoria say, and still being able to market it as Happy Hills shiraz (though without mention of Barossa Valley on the label).

Our Sancerre grower though, if he or she has a crop failure they can’t buy grapes from outside the appellation and still call it Sancerre.

One fundamental principle to understand is the concept of what the French call ‘terroir’. This is essentially the belief that each unique place where grapes are grown is unlike any other and can impart unique qualities to a wine. It is the micro-climate of a place but it is much more than that. It includes the soil, the rainfall, the topography, how the grapes are planted and nurtured. This is why Sancerre wines are called Sancerre and not sold under a varietal label such as Loire sauvignon blanc. The Sancerre grower wants his wine to taste of Sancerre, not sauvignon blanc.

Although the tide is turning a little, most New World growers want to emphasise the flavours of the variety from which the wine was made – where it comes from is almost incidental. As usual there are exceptions and these exceptions are growing, with Clare Valley growers in South Australia for instance saying that their rieslings have flavours which are unique to the valley. I doubt if they will be stricken in my lifetime with the same tight rules and regulations that strangle some European growers but an expression of place is becoming more prevalent.

I will let Andrew Jefford have the final word – ‘Remember though, that there is no destination at the end of the long journey. The journey is everything. No state is steady; no world is static. Everything in wine changes every year, thanks to the play of the seasons and the defining frenzy of human activity. In the longest view, climates change; the earth moves. We can take nothing for granted. Wine is a gift to us, in our time. Let us cherish it, celebrate it, understand it – and in doing so come closer to our earth.’

*Andrew Jefford’s Wine Course, published by Ryland, Peters and Small

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