The Terroir Discussion has come a long way in the 18 years I’ve been hanging around internet bulletin boards. We used to have regular dustups over whether terroir actually exists, or is merely imagined, or perhaps invented by marketing types to sell Old World wines. Some of the arguments advanced by some prominent writers and ITB professionals would seem shockingly quaint and outlandish if posted here today. Indeed, some seemed rather quaint and outlandish at the time IIRC, but were in fact advanced in all seriousness, at least in the U.S.
Today, we readily agree that where a wine is grown potentially has a profound impact upon the character of the wine… except for a few kooks or perhaps newcomers to fine wine who have not yet grasped just what the concept of terroir really is.
But so what? Who cares? How important is it for the wine to faithfully express its place of origin? What do we mean when we say, “It’s whats in the glass that counts!”? This is the modern version of The Terroir Discussion. Indeed, it is a sticky wicket, with much confusion and frustration to all who join the debate.
Matt Kramer is one of the finest, most thought-provoking wine writers around. His new book “Matt Kramer On Wine” makes the case that all great wines express their terroir, and appreciating this “somewhereness” is essential to appreciate fully the attributes of great wines. Several of his essays purport to “prove” the primacy of terroir in any measure of wine greatness.
Terry Theise offers his own “proof” of this concept in his book “Reading Between The Wines”, a joyous romp through the mind and the psyche of the famous importer of terroir-driven German and Austrian wines. I believe the word “ethereal” was invented to describe the mind and psyche of Theise.
As they walk the reader through the “proof” that terroir is primal among all wine attributes, both writers start off with strong, irrefutable logic. But then comes… well, an assertion, a faith-based conclusion in support of “somewhereness”, and then proceed on to a strong finish. Both books remind me of the famous Sidney Harris cartoon, which could be viewed as a portrait of Kramer and Theise reviewing each others manuscript…
And so the debate rages on. What say you about the primacy of terroir?
I definitely agree that terroir exists: all the aspects of the growing environment affect the fruit character. It’s pretty easy to show on a fundamental level just by comparing wines from disparate climates by the same producer. QED. Even different exposures in the same vineyard can be remarkably different. Heck, I bet grapes from one side of a vine vs. the other would have distinct character, especially if one side gets superior sun exposure.
There are two areas where interpretation of terroir loses its grounding. The first is attribution of characteristics of the finished wine to specific qualities of the vineyard or growing region. For example, I view Brettanomyces expression as terroir-specific in the sense that the strain likely depends on the region and the chemistry of the wine derived from the terroir in a given vintage will affect the expression of the yeast. But winemaking choices undeniably are also a factor in this specific example. Linking certain characteristics to the soil is dubious at best when the mechanisms are poorly understood.
The second issue concerns creation of a heirarchy based on superior terroir. Some people seem to assume there is some “uber-terroir” that intrinsically is superior to others. While there clearly are vineyards and regions that cannot produce balanced grapes (CA Central Valley, large stretches of N. Africa), assigning value to high-quality regions is a pointless task. Much of the coastal CA wine growing terroir is subject to lots of sunshine, large diurnal flux, and low humidity. That produces more fruit driven wines (in part due to lower fungal pressure) than is the case with continental climates typical in France. That is legitimate terroir expression; whether that is more or less interesting than an earthier, lighter bodied wine is a matter of personal taste.
Ultimately, I think you could substitute “uniqueness” for “terroir expression” when considering whether a wine is worthy. If a wine is not unique, then there is no need to buy a specific cuvee at an elevated price point. It needs some sort of differentiation. When a producer allows some compelling aspect of the grapes and ferment to show, usually that passes as both “terroir expression” and “uniqueness.”
Well, Lew…I oftentimes poke fun at those who worship at the altar of terroir.
Although both authors make a strong case for terroir, I don’t think they’ll ever convince me of its “primacy”.
Why should terroir in a wine be put above all else…varietal character, winemaking technique, etc. I don’t see why it should.
Certainly, it enhances the intellectual pleasure you find in a wine. But to put terroir above all else??? Don’t think so.
Last night I had a German trocken Spatburgunder. Screamed of terroir…loads of earthy character and a real paucity of fruit.
What the old British writers used to refer to as “gout de terroir”, back when it was a pejorative term and before it was mounted on
the pedestal to worship. Did I like the wine?? Sorta…it was interesting. But I would have far preferred a middlin’ (sorry…Adam)
Siduri SonomaCnty Pinot, with its classic black cherry fruit and classic Siduri/pencilly oak. It would have evoked the image in my mind
of a roly-poly/loquacios AdamLee rather than the Spatburgunder’s damp earthiness of my GrandMa’s root cellar where she stored those wretched beets…
a far less pleasant image to my mind.
You don’t have to look to hard to find the SanJoaquin terroir in Two$Chuck. Doesn’t make me like the wine better than the spoofalated
fruitiness of YellowTail Shiraz.
So…yeah…terroir is important in the intellectual pleasure (and that, grant you, is an important part) of a wine…but I’m not about to worship
at its altar.
Just my random/irrelevant thoughts.
Tom
I recently read both books and found them quite interesting and very good.
As for terroir, I find it fascinating but also not the be all and end all of the story. While I think it is very cool how subtle differences (and some not so subtle) can arise in a wine made from grapes just a few feet apart, it begs the question, for me anyway, is whether that wine is worth drinking.
Take the wines fo Chave, for example. Most would agree they have a sense of somewhereness, i.e. Hermitage. But they do they express an individual vineyard a la Burgundy? I don’t think so. Where does terroir start and stop? We have all tasted wines that are clearly of California (in a good way), but obviously that is way different than terroir.
Another thing that I think is forgotten in the argument is the affect of culture and particulalry food has had on the development of the wine. This is certainly more true in Italy than France or Germany, at least I think it is. Italy has far less emphasis on terroir and far more on regional wines and food and the matches between them and the culture that has developed. Still, when determining what grapes to plant in what sites, the key question of Burgundian notions of terroir, those decisions were not made in a vacuum.
A fascinating subject and one that most agree clearly exists at this point. Does it matter? For drinkers of Burgundy and German Rieslings, it obviously does. For Bordeaux and Napa? Perhaps. Is it a requirement of fine wine? Not for my tastes.
Just to be clear about this, I don’t think Kramer, Theise, or any other terroir devotee (such as myself) would say it is unimportant whether a wine tastes good. A wine that tastes bad is a bad wine, even if it displays its place of origin.
I think the argument is more along the lines of… attributes such as varietal character, fruitiness, and winemaker cellar treatments can sometimes produce a tasty wine, but tasty only gets you just so far… and tasty wines based on these attributes tend to soon become boring/repetitious… but the endless array of site-derived complexities and nuances take you much further toward greatness… and never become boring. This is what I believe, and I think Kramer and Theise agree (if I’m reading them correctly).
But the rub is… there is no universal proof of that, and thus the cartoon seems correct IMO. If someone comes back at me and says, “I don’t really care about site expression, it’s just what’s in the glass that counts, and whether I like it or whether I don’t”, well I guess I have to admit that is OK for them, even if not for me.
Wow, Greg, a lot to chew on there. Concerning your first point, I believe that, once you have tasted a lot of wines from a vineyard, and a lot of wines from another vineyard, it is often very clear what is coming from the sites (among the noise of different vintages, different makers, etc). As for your second point, I am confused. Surely not all terroir is created equal for winegrowing. A fundamental condition of appreciating site expression is the recognition that some sites are better than others, IMO. And if I did not believe that, I guess I’d just join the crowd chasing TRB or whoever the latest rockstar wineMAKER is. I’m pretty sure that is not what you are saying, so I need to ask if you could clarify… TIA.
As for my first point, I’m concerned specifically about causality. Things like saying “the roots go deep, therefore the wine expresses minerality.” It may be so, it may not (probably not). The whole direct uptake of minerals from soil to expression as wine flavors is suspect to me. There may be a relationship particularly as it relates to alkalinity and drainage, but claiming one tastes schist or limestone directly is dubious.
I’m not saying all sites are created equal. I’m saying that they are different and in many cases there is no criteria that can effectively compare them when it comes to premium wine growing regions. Like if you ask the question, which is better vineyard A of commune B in Burgundy, or vineyard X of commune Y in Piedmont? Or comparing a vineyard in Chile to one in Austria. Where do you even start in these cases? If you are comparing within a region for the same grape variety within a given stylistic approach, it is a tractable problem. But even within Burgundy, there seem to be communes known for certain spice, or red fruit, or black fruit, or specific earth flavors. Is there a value system to determine superiority of red vs. black fruit? Spice vs. soil?
I also don’t understand the obsession with this TRB fellow, though maybe I will be converted if I have some of his rocket juice.
OK, Greg, I think I get it. First, if you can’t prove how it got there, then it’s not there. And second, even if it were there, it wouldn’t prove this Barolo is inherently better than that Burgundy, so it doesn’t matter anyway…
I think I should put you down as voting, “So what? Who cares? It’s what’s in the glass that matters.” if that OK with you.
Lew,
I don’t think I should be allowed a valid opinion in this matter as, though I have drunk this elixir for many, many years now, I have not done the requisite site- centric study I believe required to comment. Boy, would I like to though. I do, however, have one comment/query. Why is it I so often see places like Bordeaux and, more commonly, Burgundy used to validate/invalidate the terroir argument? To me it would seem the debate would be much more sensibly made in places that do not use oak. I realize there are many pieces contributed by the winemaker but, to me, the ability to see the differences between sites requires as much control as possible on non-applicable influences. The use of oak, and all the eccentricities therein, to me, can’t serve to do anything but, obfuscate terroir. I think the discussion would be better made with whites from Alsace or the Mosel. Just a comment. All that said, I am religious on the matter.
A great concept-- but it does create problems when multiple producers (such as in Burgundy or Alsace or Piemonte) are making wines from the same vineyards ,and separating the “terroir” from the winemaking/grapegrowing is nearly impossible. The concept sounds, IMO, greater than it is a meaningfully communicative term, as it is often a chicken and egg thing. The concept of “transparency” of terroir seems almost ridiculous, to me.
Certainly, the place a wine’s grapes are made from is a factor, just as the canvas an oil painting is painted on is. But, is the “terroir” any more important or defineable a contributor than the artist, the materials used, the goal, the skill, the conscientiousness?
Not sure what “primacy” means in this context. But, discerning what is the true “terroir” of a site and thinking that it must be “there” are two pretty different things. Who can argue that it must be “there”. Describing it is something almost altogether different.
To, me the issue is non-controversial and “terroir” certainly exists. Beyond that…not all that helpful of a concept…and pretty meaningless when you get down to specifics.
Great for romantics, though. Paradise Lost nostalgists. As long as you don’t try to fill in the details, as it’s a “concept” more than anything.
Yup…think that’d be fair to say.
Terroir exists…sometimes it’s important to my enjoyment of a wine…sometimes other things are. Guess I’m just wishy-washy.
Tom
Perhaps a greater question would be why we, as human beings, feel compelled to take something so complex as wine and boil it down to one or two influencing factors, and then work to proclaim one as superior to the other? In my mind, saying that terroir is superior to varietal or to winemaking or even to the mindset of the person tasting it, is making wine less interesting and complex than it actually is.
Perhaps that might put me in what you define as the “tastes good” camp – but I have had some wonderful “tastes good” experiences with wine and some equally wonderfully “ethereal” experiences with wine, and I don’t know that any one influencing factor is greater in the wines that have provided one experience over the other.
Lew,
I haven’t had time to write my complete thoughts on this topic (and still don’t) but it is certainly complicated.
The complication comes from people’s differing orientations and reactions to different aspects in wine. For me fundamental and real complexity comes from site expression. I do not get too excited about the things that winemaking provides (perfect oak treatment etc). IMO, the wrong choices here can detract but there is very little opportunity to improve a wine. No one can make a spellbinding Bourgogne, and I would be quite happy to drink a Romanee St Vivant if it was made in a bathtub located in the garage and raised in an old oak barrel as long as it was bottled without a microbial problem. Over the last 20 years and until recently, the wine media was oriented quite differently and there was a premium on “technique”. This gave rise to the “garagiste” movement in Bordeaux (which in my opinion is just a survey of oak treatments) and extreme wine styles. Many wine drinkers love these wines, but I have often wondered if the media’s promotion of this orientation of wine appreciation had more to do with the selling of “discovery”. Their publications are much more interesting if they always have something new to promote and frankly terroir doesn’t change nearly often enough.
Meanwhile, I think this has greatly hurt the New World. Our pace of discovery has been slowed by a lack of prioritization of our great sites in lieu of the exaltation of winemaking style and technique. In Europe, through thousands of years of trial and error people know they cannot make a truly great wine on the valley floor but we have been fooled into believing it might be possible here if we just make the right winemaking choices.
Time will fix all of this since terroir always triumphs but it is a long and winding road between here and there.
That’s not exactly what I’m saying. I’m saying what you observe is there; that’s something empirical and the easiest thing to demonstrate. It’s a stickier issue determining how each component of the wine is caused by an aspect of terroir. I often taste what I ascribe to ‘minerality’ in wines grown on calcareous soil. But milk is brimming with calcium, and I wouldn’t describe milk as expressing minerality, at least not in the same way. I think the “romantic” image of terroir is deeply flawed, though the broader meaning of terroir–all aspects of the vineyard affecting the finished wine–is not.
As for the second point, I think I’m trying to say that what is considered good/great terroir depends on intent. What is ideal for Port is terrible for Pinot Noir and vice versa. Piedmont and Burgundy–both revered for their terroir expression–are sufficiently different that I doubt one could swap their terroir-expressive grapes easily, though perhaps certain micro-climates might suit Nebbiolo in Burgundy and vice versa. At any rate, whether you prefer Barolo to GC Burgundy probably has more to do with taste preference than any intrinsic superiority of the terroir in one region over the other.
Hmmmmm…interesting that you minimize the contribution of the winemaking, Kevin; unless I misinterpret your thoughts. Not sure that I’d entirely dismiss that contribution.
One of the most compelling Rieslings I’ve ever had was from the mid-‘70’s, made by DavidBruce. Slammed w/ new French oak, as was his wont back
in those days. Did it display the terroir of his Estate Riesling? Beats heck out of me…not sure I ever figured out his Riesling’s terroir character. Certainly
had some of that SCM earthiness that I found in his Chards and Ridge Chards/Rieslings. Of course, most people dismissed the wine as an abomination because
it did not taste like a Reisling is “supposed” to taste…much like they did Calif Pinot in those days because it didn’t taste like RedBurg.
And how does the production of “orange” wines, which as best I can tell, obscures terroir, fit in w/ your thoughts.
To me, winemaking choices can have a great impact on my enjoyment of a wine and, if they minimize or obscure terroir…so be it.
Not raggin’ you, Kevin. Just curious about your thinking.
Tom
This is something that bothers me as well. DRC RC is reputed to have the greatest terroir expression of the greatest terroir. Yet DRC still uses 100% new oak. What does the terroir of a forest in central France have to do with the terroir of wine grapes in Burgundy? I suppose the claim is that DRC follows the same regime on all of its cuvees, therefore across cuvees the terroir is expressed. But I believe oak is not simply additive, but combinatorial in its effect. Wines interact different with barrels depending on their characteristics. My hypothesis is that in particular higher alcohol leaches more oak flavor, thus while a terroir may produce more or less alcohol, the finished wine will also have more or less oak flavor in part due to the wine’s chemistry.
Wasn’t the purpose of planting south-facing slopes in Europe largely a combination of exposure and drainage? Is it possible in a semi-arid climate with lots of sunshine that different factors are more important? I honestly don’t know, but it seems an oversimplification to assume all grape varieties in all climates must be planted mid-slope facing at a south-facing orientation.
Bordeaux seems to be gently undulating hills with mainly gravel soil–maybe this is what Cabernet prefers. Merlot seems to have an affinity for clay. I especially like Cab Franc from calcareous vineyards, especially sloped ones in Chinon. It seems like many factors are key in determining the best vineyard site.
When I visited your place, I thought it fascinating the fact that you spend so much $ on 4-year air dried Francois Freres barrels. I undertand that they are more subtle – but isn’t that striving for perfect oak treatment in its own way? Why not raise your wines in old oak barrels as per your example?