Chardonnay 08: Only as boring as you make it
By Peter Saunders
‘There’ll always be an England’ the song reminds us, and there’ll always be a chardonnay too, no doubt. And thank goodness for that, our dependable friend is not headed for the vinous scrap heap.
It did lose some favour in the eye of the drinker, as more fashionable grape varieties like pinot gris intruded on traditional chardonnay territory.
Or perhaps it was the winemakers who may have stoked interest away from chardonnay by giving us too many hot-alcohol, over-blown and over-wooded styles? They have stopped that now; no longer do we spit out oak splinters, nor do we have to dilute the alcohol by a drinking two glasses of water for every glass of chardonnay.
We now sip better chardonnay, rather than alcoholic timber. That’s not to say all chardonnays now taste the same, there are still plenty of variations.
The list is almost endless if we search for reasons why one tastes different to another. There are regional variations, perhaps all the more interesting these days without the over-dose of extras we used to have. There are clonal variations, which are becoming more important too, but we don’t bother the drinker about those too much. There are yeast alternatives, as the brave new world of winemakers experiment with wild yeast instead of, or in addition to, cultured forms. The oak is less important, yet there are multiple choices there also, and not just the size and origin of each barrel. What pinot gris has taught the industry is that three and four year old oak does have a contribution - and it is not a grainy raw oak impact.
To oak or not to oak, is a question now answered by the many chardonnays of high drinkability and appeal which have never darkened the inside of a barrel. Clean, fresh, dry and tasty with food, is an entirely acceptable formula for the second and third years of a chardonnay’s life; it is not essential to have oak characters that will take ten years to settle and meld when there will be no bottles left for boasting rights.
It is a pity that unoaked chardonnay almost has a mild slur – as if a cheaper version. The Kirkpatrick Estate Winery (KEW) in Gisborne thought the term was putting off drinkers to the point of seeking a new terminology for it. They came up with ‘Virgin Chardonnay’ - another way of saying unwooded.
These ‘virgin’ wines, without the huge handling costs of oak, the evaporation and absorbing properties of wood (which lose the ‘angels share’) are generally always cheaper. If anything, it takes better a chardonnay fruit to stand up and be counted, without relying on the oak support to hold the wine together.
Malolactic fermentation is another option available: although the acidity of today’s wines do not require a substantial change in this department, given a good ripening. The malolactic choice has become a butterscotch condiment, not the requirement it once was in the days when grapes were picked at 19 brix with 14 grams of acid, actually needing the change of life to get them drinkable.
Lees stirring is another possibility, offering a textural alteration as well as adjusting the aromatics. The appeal of this varies with the style of wine and can increase the drinkability factor very nicely by underlining the fruit.
Chardonnay has many positives, and in our trade the affinity with food is perhaps the biggest plus. The options which are available and well used by winemakers around the world give variations, from big, bold and blousy styles which are mouth-filling and chewy, through to quite subtle tones of wholemeal, sometimes (but not always) with the river-stone fresh character. Citrus, stone fruit (peaches, nectarines) and pineapple can all add their own variant on the theme.
Chardonnay in this way misses the broad criticism of sauvignon blanc: that ‘they all taste the same’. No one can ever truly be bored with chardonnay given its variations in body, strength of flavour, and the ever varying approaches to ‘condiments’ like oak and malo-lactic fermentation by winemakers.
Although there is a mild turn-off in the market, chardonnay is getting better: more interesting, more complete and more pro-active in what it can offer - especially at two or three years of age.
Like returning home to mother after testing the waters further afield, chardonnay is an good old friend to come back to. Indeed, there will always be a chardonnay; it is an internationally understood grape and style, and wine drinkers throughout the world seek its dependability no matter where they travel.
Now, with less oak and more of its own character, chardonnay is getting even better, and far more enjoyable at two to three years, rather than being built for ten years and raided earlier, long before being ready.