The way people talk about wine often reflects their other beliefs about the world.When gender attributes were more rigidly defined than they are now, for example, it was common to hear wines described as masculine or feminine. This has diminished, though, as people have come to see that gender does not predestine character and personality.Similarly, in socially stratified societies, wines were commonly discussed in terms of their class or breeding. This tendency, too, has ebbed, as social orders in many places have become more fluid.Wine grapes, however, still seem to be in the grip of an inflexible caste system that establishes the limits of a grape’s potential. Some people, like the writer Robert Joseph, defend this hierarchical view of grapes. But to me, it’s a narrow-minded, obstinate and sadly condescending way to look at a world of wine that has become far more egalitarian than it’s ever been before.Until fairly recently, generations of wine authorities habitually referred to the “noble” grapes, classically a group of six considered to have aristocratic potential: cabernet sauvignon, merlot, pinot noir, chardonnay, sauvignon blanc and riesling. The constituency differed slightly depending on who was doing the ordaining, but this was the core group.Notice something about them? Five are French, and one, riesling, is German, though it’s grown in Alsace as well. It’s not surprising. The phrase originated in France (cépages nobles), and was popularized in Britain, a prime market for French wines and, before World War I, for German wines as well.Even as societies have become more socially mobile, the popular idea of nobility among grapes has hung on stubbornly, though it has expanded somewhat. One recent grouping put the number at 18.But while that was a laudable effort to democratize the upper class of grapes, it was still a class system, too rigid and limiting to contribute to a comprehensive understanding of wine and how to drink it.Grapes themselves offer only faint clues to the wines they will ultimately produce. The mere fact of producing wine with merlot, a grape in the pantheon, means nothing. Pomerols, made largely with merlot, are among the world’s great wines. The lakes of merlot made elsewhere? Occasionally I find a pretty good bottle. But ultimately, Pomerols and other merlots have little in common.Chardonnay has surely played a role in great wines made year after year. But I’ve had far more bad chardonnays than good ones.I’ve also had far more mediocre than inspiring bottles of aligoté, which is not surprising. Aligoté would make most lists of roundly despised grapes, often producing thin, acidic wines that were historically spiked with a glug of crème de cassis, rendering the wine palatable as kir.In Burgundy, few would debate the relative status of chardonnay and aligoté, the two leading white grapes in the region. That’s why chardonnay is planted in the best sites, and aligoté gets whatever is left over. With grapes, site is ofte
