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Guy Woodward: Language matters

Published:  15 November, 2022

I was corresponding recently with the human dynamo that is Laura Catena. Turns out the Argentinian winemaker is a big fan of this column.

“Enjoyed your article on Château Quintus,” she wrote. “It got me thinking how universal our desire is in the wine world to achieve ‘classification’ status.”

What interested Catena was the New World perspective, and the idea of producers playing fast and loose with French nomenclature to confer upon themselves a certain standing. It’s a concept she’s been exploring through a series of events that she has taken around the world entitled “Let’s Talk about Grands Crus and Grands Vins”.

“The question we ask is whether the term ‘grand cru’ should be used [by New World producers],” she told me. “Not on labels, but as a term akin to ‘terroir’, which has come to be accepted in every language.”

So Catena is not suggesting that producers arbitrarily declare themselves classed growths. Instead, she is advocating the informal application of a globally recognised, albeit French, term to elevate certain wines and sites.

“How can we use this term respectfully in reference to wines made from great terroirs outside of France?” was one of the questions put to a panel in the US.

“I don’t think people necessarily care about the verbiage you use,” was the verdict of Lauren McPhate of Tribeca Wine Merchants in New York. “I might talk about a prestige cuvée or tête de cuvée, and people understand the implications.”

Patrick Comiskey of Wine & Spirits magazine was less convinced. “When you use a term like grand cru, you can be accused of putting on airs,” he pointed out. “You are self-describing, when the term hasn’t been conferred upon you officially.”

Ultimately, of course, it depends how the term is used. A decade ago, Sea Smoke caused a furore when it added the term ‘California grand cru’ to the front label of its Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays, seemingly in a bid to assert some sort of recognisable status. Amid a backlash, it deflected the blame to critic Jim Laube, who had, in typically considered Wine Spectator style, described Sea Smoke as “one of Santa Barbara’s grand cru properties”. The winery has since reversed the move. It does, though, continue to label its Santa Rita Hills vineyard as a ‘monopole’, rather proving Comiskey’s point.

Down in Margaret River, straight-talking Vasse Felix winemaker Virginia Willcock – not someone you would accuse of putting on any airs or graces – nonetheless told me how Vasse Felix uses the terms ‘grand’ and ‘premier’ to categorise its individual sites, as detailed on its back labels. It strikes me as odd language for an Australian winery to adopt, particularly when ‘premier’ (as used in political circles) is likely to trump ‘grand’ in the lexicon of most Aussies.

For Ray Isle of Food & Wine magazine, “New World regions rightly want to define themselves by who they are and not by comparison to French regions. Yet we have a wine culture that has historically been dominated by the idea of France producing the greatest wines in the world. So while we know what the term grand cru signifies, at the same time it’s French. And it’s a little bizarre to find an American or Argentinian winery borrowing French terminology for its best wines.”

All of which leads us to the wider question of whether New World producers should tap into the French vernacular at all. I’ve lost track of the number of New World producers who describe their wine as ‘Burgundian’, as shorthand for it being elegant or profound. But not all Burgundy tastes like that; some tastes, literally, like crap. And isn’t it rather unambitious to be in thrall to another region?

Larry Stone MS of Lingua Franca certainly thinks so. “Personally I wouldn’t use the word ‘Burgundian’ because I’m not trying to make Burgundy. I’m trying to make Oregon wines that are defined by their terroir.”

Ultimately, as Catena observed, it comes down to wanting to be bracketed with the great wines of the world, but doing so in an authentic way. Is a South African winery trying to put on airs and graces by label-ling its wine as a Syrah, rather than Shiraz? It would argue it’s signposting the style of its wine, and I would tend to agree. Calling it a grand vin, or a prestige cuvée, on the other hand, might be considered a touch pre-tentious. And a monopole? Definitely.






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