On Burgundy vs. Bordeaux
Wine’s great philosophical divide
In the first few sessions of the Economics of Wine class I teach, we talk about the foundations -- the history of wine, the big picture of the industry, how wine is made, and (because we’re in France, after all) the major French wine regions and varietals. A thread frames up much of the discussion: is wine produce, or a product?
There’s no right answer here. In fact, the industry itself doesn’t have one. Instead, it has become one of the biggest philosophical divides in wine, one which is still fundamental no matter where you are in the world. But it is encapsulated by the beliefs and practices of two iconic French wine regions: Burgundy and Bordeaux.
Two Regions, Two Mindsets
In Burgundy, everything is about terroir. This a French word in broad scope meaning “land” but which really refers to all the characteristics of a vineyard: the soil, the steepness of the slope and the angle at which it faces the sun, the other flora and fauna in the area, the climate, any special meteorological phenomena. It is the sense of place we talk about in wine, why a Pinot Noir from Sonoma doesn’t taste the same as a Pinot from Burgundy – or, in Burgundian terms, why a Chambolle-Musigny doesn’t taste the same as Vosne-Romanée. The Burgundian mindset is that terroir takes precedence, and the winemaker’s job is to deliver it, as Mother Nature intended, in its purest form.
In Bordeaux, by contrast, it’s all about the winemaker and their expertise or savoir-faire -- their ability to take different grape varietals grown across different parcels and blend them together each year to create a wine that tastes distinctly of that Château. It’s also why the classification system in Bordeaux is based on producers rather than vineyard sites, as it is in Burgundy.
If you visit wineries in these two places, the content of your visit will reflect this. In Bordeaux they will wax poetic about the blend and spend a lot more time talking about what happens in the winery and the blending and aging rooms. In Burgundy, they talk about the soil. It even trickles down to the labels. In Burgundy, generally the AOC is going to be prominent on the label, and the producer will be in smaller font. In Bordeaux, the opposite: the Château gets pride of place.
Is one superior? Well, it depends on what you believe.
The Chef Analogy
Another way to think about this is through the lens of chefs and cuisine. With clients I often compare Burgundians to Japanese sushi chefs, who spend 10 years learning to make rice perfectly before they ever pick up a knife to cut fish. The sushi chef’s philosophy is to take the absolute best product and do as little to it as possible, but execute it perfectly. Bordeaux thinkers I liken to French chefs. French chefs take many ingredients, and use a myriad of culinary techniques, to ultimately create something that is greater than the sum of its parts.
You may have a preference for one or the other as a diner, but very few would argue that either approach is inferior or invalid. Only the chefs themselves might have feelings that strong.
It’s the same with wine – I personally tend to gravitate toward the Burgundian approach, because I enjoy its simplistic purity and its ability to express one of the core things that drew me into wine in the first place: the endless variation and interaction between place, grape varietal, and vintage. It is a manifestation of the idea that wine is a living thing. But that’s not to say that I don’t appreciate the Bordeaux way. Putting craftsmanship in the winery at the fore enables the creation of some of the longest-lived wines I’ve ever tasted, and that is certainly a more than worthwhile pursuit.
What’s your philosophy? Give me your take in the comments!