Looking ahead: the 2021 Bordeaux vintage

Bordeaux producers aren’t looking forward to the release of the 2021 wines. Widespread frost in the spring killed a lot of buds. The French government has forecasted the harvest to be among the smallest in the last 50 years. Comparisons are being drawn to the 1977 vintage, which was about the time I started buying French wines. The deals were great then and many producers managed to produce decent, albeit not great, wines. I remember the 1977 Chateau Beychevelle, for instance.

The 1961 harvest got off to a similar start and turned out to be one of the more remarkable wines of the century. Yield was low in the vineyards but the grapes were intense and the few wines made were long-lived. How the 2021 vintage fares remains to be seen. Just add wine to the woes of the year.

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Bad news from Bordeaux

Hang on to your Bordeaux. The Telegraph in the United Kingdom recently reported that a fungal disease is expected to reduce this year's crop by as much as 70 percent. 

Fungal disease is caused by heavy rains in the spring. Once it appears on the grapes, there is little that can be done. There is a spray of copper sulfate and slaked lime to prevent fungal disease, but growers have been loathed to use it because of their commitment to organic farming. Even those who have used it as a preventative say it isn't foolproof.

It sounds as if no one has been spared -- and merlot growers are affected the worst.

This is hardly the news Bordeaux wants. Last year's production was cut 40 percent because of severe frost. It was the worst harvest since 1945. 

With harvest more than a month off, it remains to be seen how badly this disease will impact this  year's production.

More grape varieties approved in Bordeaux

Four new red and two white wine grape varietals can be grown in Bordeaux as a result of formal approval by the Institut National de l’Origine et de la Qualite, a part of France’s Ministry of Agriculture.

The decision comes after years of research by scientists and growers who were focused on supplementing Bordeaux’s varieties to address the impact of climate change. Arinarnoa, castets, marselan and touriga nacional — a Portuguese varietal — are said to adapt well to stress from temperature increases.

The two new white varietals are alvarinho and liloria.

Bordeaux producers are loathe to change tradition, but the climate changes have forced their hand. With these grapes being first planted this year, it’s hard to predict who will use them and how they will change the flavor profile of these prestigious wines, but I can’t wait to try them.

The first growths of Napa Valley

In 1855 Napoleon Bonaparte asked that the Medoc classify its wines, perhaps so that he could determine which to buy. Only four chateaux — Lafite Rothschild, Margaux, Haut Brion and Latour — were judged to be worthy of the coveted first-growth classification. The grouping has remained largely intact — Mouton Rothschild was added in 1976 after intensive lobbying.

No other wine region has classified its wines like this, preferring instead to divide them according to time in cask (Spain), by vineyard (U.S.), by crus, price or by the vague term “reserve.” Even a president like Donald Trump couldn’t follow in Bonaparte’s footsteps and order it to be done in, say, California. However, I’ve often mused about which properties in Napa Valley would make the first-growth cut.

If history influenced the decision, I’d have to consider Chateau Montela, Louis Martini, Beringer, Caymus, Beaulieu, Heitz Cellars, Chappellet, Dominus, Opus One, Joseph Phelps, Mondavi. If I pulled in producers with less history, I would consider Screaming Eagle, Spottswoode, Sullivan, Cliff Lede, Gamble and Ladera.

The reserve cabernet sauvignons of these producers sell for more than $100 a bottle — in some cases more than $3,000. Not many people — even collectors — will pay that much for California cabernet sauvignon, especially when they can buy a second-growth Margaux for less.

What happened?

Many winemakers tell me there is more labor involved in farming mountain fruit that is often the source for the best cabernets. But, more likely, they will charge whatever the market bears. They make little of their best wines, sell it to their club members and develop a waiting list to drive the fear of being left out.

Most of them resist comparing their wines to those of Bordeaux and I get that because the soil, winemaking and blend is often different. But consumers will compare the two regions. And, winemakers insist that however unique their Napa wine, it is every bit as good as Bordeaux.

Sacre bleu, French looking for more rose?

The Telegraph recently reported that young French people are abandoning the red wine from Bordeaux in favor of light whites and roses. The 6% drop in sales of Bordeaux has led producers from France’s most elite growing region to start pushing their white wines. Very few of them make rose because, well, rose is so declasse.

In fact, young people in France say they drink wine as an aperitif rather than with meals.

Said Louise Descamps, 28, an assistant television producer: “It’s a change in lifestyle from our parents’ generation. They used to drink mainly red wine at dinner, but we tend to drink more at bars or parties. My friends and I drink more rosé or white. I still enjoy reds from time to time, but only ever with dinner.”

Rose sales have tripled in France in the last two decades; they now account for a third of the wine sold in France.

Imagine that? French Bordeaux and Burgundy were the most desirable wine among the French for generations. Today, however, not only has per capita wine consumption decreased dramatically, but so has the desire for the country’s most prestigious wines.

I can’t imagine Bordeaux producers making rose out of their merlot and cabernet sauvignon, but who knows? First-growth rose anyone?

Not surprisingly, many experts are scoffing at the ntion of Bordeaux changing direction. Wine critic Yohan Castaing told the Telegraph: “It’s not because rosés made in other parts of France work well that they’ll work in Bordeaux. They’re not really part of Bordeaux’s DNA.”

Sine die, Robert Parker

This week Robert Parker Jr. made his retirement official. It wasn’t a surprise that the most renown wine critic was hanging up his corkscrew — he had turned over the reigns of his famous Wine Advocate to Lisa Perrotti-Brown some time ago. But, like politicians and athletes, comebacks are always around until someone makes it official.

I owe a lot to Parker because he created the model of a critic when he launched his publication in 1978. I was living in Maryland at the time and quickly subscribed to what was then the Washington-Baltimore Wine Advocate (he dropped the city names a year later). The publication was a tabloid newspaper for several years and largely unknown until Parker broke rank with more famous critics who had panned the 1982 vintage. Parker said it was going to be one of the century’s best. And, it was.

Parker invented the 100-point scale too. Until then, most critics just described the wine and left the reader confused. Others used various devices to indicate recommendations, but it was the 100-point scale — now widely used — that gave Parker a wide range to classify his wines.

A lawyer by trade who fell in love with wine while with his wife in France, Parker was ruthless in using his pen too. He accepted no advertising from the start and thus had no allegiance to anyone other than to himself. Once famous, his scores could make or break a producer. Any wine that scored less than 90 points was largely ignored; those that did score high, particularly the obscure wines, flew off the shelf. And those wineries who experienced high score raised prices and profits.

He was an honest, uninfluenced wine critic people could trust. And, I did. I bought several cases of the 1982s and remember walking through a Washington, D.C., store with his publication in my hand. I have one bottle left — a Gruard Larose that he scored 95 points. I bought my wines on futures. The Gruard Larose cost me about $15 and I was mortified to be spending this much money on a bottle of wine.

Parker’s influence changed the direction of wine too. Bordeaux producers, eager for high scores, actually changed their wines to gain his favor. And, they weren’t the only wines. Those ripe, high-alcohol and extracted wines we taste today started with Parker. (He later launched Beaux Freres in the Willamette Valley with his brother).

Many critics of the critic faulted him for warping French producers who were no longer making traditional wines.

I met Parker when he was at a book fair at the Naval Academy in the early 1980s. He was just becoming known and few people were stopping by his table to buy his first book, “Bordeaux,” a compilation of wine reviews starting with the 1961 vintage. It was a bible to every Bordeaux collector.

My second encounter with Parker was when he invited users of his online journal to write an essay on why people were so critical. He was obviously stewing over the barrage of personal insults that came from some dust-up I can’t remember. I responded — and won a set of expensive wine glasses that I still use.

Parker had the most amazing palate — so good that it was insured for millions. But it wasn’t everyone’s palate. When people felt differently about a wine he panned but they liked, his critics blamed him rather than realizing that wines are personal and that criticism isn’t always a science.

Thank you, Mr. Parker, for everything you’ve done to wine and to wine criticism.