The latest salvos in the ongoing debate were fired last month at the annual Geological Society of America conference in Oregon and in "Liquid Memory: Why Wine Matters," the first book from filmmaker Jonathan Nossiter of "Mondovino" fame.

The French term is a slippery one, difficult to translate, allowing terroir to mean many diverse things to different people. The shorthand definition is the "sense of place" found in a wine's taste, the idea that a wine from a particular vineyard expresses characteristics of the spot where the grapes were grown. Generally it refers to a vine's geographic environment or ecosystem -- soil, water supply, microclimate, geography, sunlight -- and the way those things are reflected in the scent and flavor of wine. The French usually add the effect of the human environment and history to the equation; many New World producers don't.

The latest scientific take emerged from a dozen papers presented in October at the Geological Society conference at Portland, Ore., which included a five-hour special session on terroir.  There didn't seem to be much consensus beyond the idea that terroir exists but is elusive, yet exerts an indirect influence on wine. Despite an Associated Press news headline that read "Geologists debunk soil impact on wine at Ore. talk," the participants didn't exactly come to that conclusion.

Alex Maltman, a professor from the University of Wales who is writing a book on geology and wine, insisted that no direct literal connection exists between minerals in vineyard soil and the "minerality" tasters detect in a wine's flavors. "The idea is romantic and highly useful commercially, but scientifically untenable," he wrote. Although vines do suck up minerals from the soil, he points out that the amounts that wind up in the wine are far below the human taste detection threshold.

Hmmm. Many drinkers can't detect cork taint -- the presence of the TCA molecule -- in parts-per-million concentrations. Others can.

The Case for Terroir

Authors Sunny Simpkins, Matt Brown and Scott Burns reported in "Terroir of the Helvetia Winery, Washington County, Oregon" that vineyard soils rich in pisolites "add rich cherry flavors to the wines due to their iron content."

In his presentation "Why Terroir Matters," Jonathan Swinchatt, co-author of "The Winemaker's Dance," acknowledged that the way factors such as soil and climate are reflected in wines has yet to be discovered. The experiments that might unravel connections, he says, "are devilishly complex" and "prohibitively expensive."

Nossiter's book trumpets the romantic view. His is the good vs. evil version of the debate, in which he elevates terroir to an ethos, a grand philosophy, which he unfortunately blends with a lot of fuzzy political and pseudo-intellectual posturing, name-dropping and personal angst.

The wine world's good guys -- notably Burgundians favored by Nossiter -- are those who make wines that show terroir  (as detected by Nossiter). The bad guys are those who make lush fruity wines made in a style designed to please critics, but that have no "sense of place."

But it's no revelation that just about every wine lover finds more individuality in JF Mugnier Chambolle-Musigny Les Amoureuses than in Yellowtail, Australia's vin industriel, or even in many big, ripe New World cabernets.

Just because grapes come from a particular patch of ground is no guarantee the wines will exhibit subtle terroir-based differences worth noting. Witness the many single vineyard pinots in Sonoma that taste pretty much the same.

The Champagne Divide

Nowhere is the contrast between style wines and terroir wines more dramatic than in Champagne. Big brands blend juice from dozens of grape growers to create distinctive house styles; small growers produce sparklers from individual vineyards in specific classified villages.

A tasting of Champagne et Villages grower champagnes at New York's Rouge Tomate restaurant early this fall was organized by village, so as to let everyone compare "the uniqueness of each specific terroir," which has its own marketing appeal.

But the differences were more pronounced than I thought they'd be. Jose Dhondt 2004 Brut Blanc de Blancs "Mes Vieilles Vignes," from chalky vineyards of chardonnay in Oger, had very precise, incisive flavors plus a deep complexity. In the nearby village of Chouilly, also in the Cote de Blanc, Vazart-Coquart produces a NV Brut Reserve Blanc de Blanc Grand Cru that is more lemony, with smooth richness. Jacques Picard Brut, from three villages in the Montagne de Reims area, had a uniquely salty character.

So even if science can't tell us precisely why one wine tastes different from another made by the same winemaker, from a vineyard not far away, the differences are clearly there.

Coming soon: How much should terroir matter?

Comment

smaller | bigger

Write the displayed characters

Post Now Preview