New World prods the Old
By Susan KeevilThe time has long passed since winemakers from California and Australia trod religiously in the footsteps of growers in Burgundy and Bordeaux, following their every move. So what of the role reversal? What is the Old World learning from the New? It occurs to me that there's quite a lot.
Take Greece, for example. Ancient cradle of winemaking. Its whole wine industry has been revolutionized by the planting of chardonnay and cabernet sauvignon, both of which it now makes into fresh, pure grape-tasting varietal wines in the New World style. The New World approach has dragged Greece's winemakers kicking and screaming away from their long attachment to retsina (which the tourists didn't like anyway - well, this one didn't) toward the realization they were just as capable of turning out fresh, appealing, sunshiny fruit flavors as the Australians and Californians. Next, they discovered they could make a whole host of lovely wines from their own vines, too. Peppy white Assyrtico, pear-like Moschofilero and racy Roditis are the ones I like. All single varietals - a New World idea.
Meanwhile, Germany's digging its way out of its Gothic doldrums by marketing clearly labeled fruity wines with New World-sounding names - such as "Bend in the River." And down south in Italy, the single grape-led Super Tuscans, for which the New World can take some credit as to style, lead the way.
But the fun really starts when those sticks-in-the-mud - the Burgundians and the Bordelais - reveal that they've learned a lesson or two.
In Paris, in 1976, Bordeaux got a trouncing when Steven Spurrier pitched California wine against the Médoc's finest in a momentous blind tasting.
The panel of experts ranked the New World wine tops (Stag's Leap Wine Cellars), and the results were set down in history. You'd think the Old World guys would have booked the first flight west (or south) to see what or who was stealing their thunder.
Not the case. Some of them sent their sons and daughters, and it's through them, more than 20 years later, that the Paris tasting results are beginning to sink in. The French are just beginning to realize their winemaking cousins across the Atlantic and down in Australia have a few strong traditions of their own.
Not that they are inclined to shower their New World peers with praise. You won't find many Burgundians who'll admit Californians invented bâtonnage.
"Ah, yes!" they'll say. "My father taught me, and his father taught him," and so on.
So what has the New World taught the Old? Here's what I've discovered:
One, choosing a vineyard site: New World growers know more about this - Burgundians and Bordelais had it all done for them by their ancestors.
Through trial and error, the last 40 New World vintages have given rise to a fine stack of much-scribbled notebooks documenting pioneering processes in California -- not to mention various discoveries, such as the Stags Leap District yields pretty fine Cabernet. And look who's taking over in France's Languedoc region - Californians and Australians. These New Worlders are leading the rediscovery of long neglected vineyards because they've learned where and what to plant. They've also learned how.
Two, canopy management: Australian vine guru Richard Smart hasn't just revolutionized cool climate viticulture, his vineyard techniques have made growers the world over think harder about nurturing and shaping their vines so every grape cluster - and every single berry - receives just the right amount of sunlight. It's through this approach - plus some good, hard gambling - that the most awesome of New World wine traits has become achievable in the Old World. That trait? The rich, super-ripe mouthful. In Bordeaux, for example, harvesting in tries - successive searches through the vineyards, picking only the ripest grapes each time - means that opulence is achievable. Where grapes were once all hurried in as fast as possible, with the aim of escaping the rain, today growers who gamble and leave their grapes on the vine as long as possible are rewarded when their grapes arrive at the château at top phenological ripeness.
Third, unraveling the mystique of malolactic fermentation: Researchers at UC-Davis take the full credit here. Malolactic fermentation is the second fermentation in which tart, appley malic acid in a wine is transformed into softer, milky lactic acid, making the wine rounder and smoother on the palate. Davis scientists were the first to identify the bacteria responsible for "malo." Yes, they knew about malo in Burgundy, but not how or why it happened. French growers dealt with the situation by trusting to luck, hoping the wine would settle down by spring.
They weren't always fortunate.
Davis' discovery meant the whole malolactic process could be understood, and controlled. According to a number of Napa proponents, it was also California winemakers who discovered that letting the malo happen in barrel meant a much more seamless integration between the oak and the wine - oak flavors in the wine became far less obvious and less harsh.
Burgundians might try to take credit for this technique, but it was the Americans who reintroduced it and pointed out its true worth.
Four, bâtonnage: Yes, I know, it's a French word, but poking a stick into a barrel and stirring up the lees that sit on the bottom to accentuate the nutty, biscuity flavors they give is a Californian invention, according to Patrick Matthews in his recent book Real Wine. Why so? I can only assume that it's because New Worlders (American and Australian) have been innately more inquisitive in the winery. They wanted to know "why," and "how can I make it better?" Prodding with a stick - as any small child will know - is always one of the first maneuvers in the assessment process.
Five, the cult of the winemaker as "creator" and "artist": This is a distinctly New World phenomenon, and, I think, a good one. Forget all that false modesty and "great wine is made in the vineyard" stuff. As Philip Shaw of Rosemount in Australia explains it, "That's like ignoring a chef who's just created a great meal and congratulating the grower of the organic carrots." Human decision is as critical a factor in the winemaking process as are clouds in the sky, and New Worlders are right to acknow-ledge their top winemakers as stars.
Six, young-drinking wines!: We no longer feel compelled to cellar our wine ten years before pulling the cork.
And seven (let's finish on a wacky one), the brave pronouncement that electricity is bad for wine: This is also a California concept, based on the fact modern winery techniques have boomeranged past technology and landed right back at basic manual pressing (by foot even) and storing in cool underground caves.
Well, I'm an Old Worlder myself, but I have to say that the wine world's a brighter place now that you colonials are spicing things up a bit!
Guest contributor Susan Keevil is a British wine journalist and the former editor of London's Decanter magazine.
