Wine Lists by Soil Type, Seriously?
Originally published
This article first appeared in the Times of Malta on 13 October 2017.
Read the original article in the Times of Malta
A Second Pour
Looking back at articles I wrote for the Times of Malta, I sometimes find my views unchanged. At other times, years of teaching, tasting, judging wines and meeting people across the wine world have added new perspectives. Revisiting these articles offers an opportunity to reflect on what experience has reinforced and what it has changed.
This is one of those articles I would barely change.
When I wrote it in 2017, organising wine lists by soil type was beginning to attract attention. It was an imaginative idea, but I questioned whether it truly helped restaurant guests choose a wine. Nearly a decade later, I still believe that a wine list exists first and foremost to make choosing easier, not more complicated.
Since then, wine communication has become even more specialised, with greater emphasis on natural wines, sustainability and alternative styles of winemaking. These developments have enriched the conversation around wine, but they have not altered the fundamental purpose of a restaurant wine list. Hospitality begins by giving guests confidence, not by testing their knowledge.
If anything, time has reinforced my original conclusion. Innovation has its place, but clarity will always be one of the most valuable qualities a wine list can offer.
The Original Article
The article below is reproduced exactly as it appeared in the Times of Malta on 13 October 2017.
Listing bottles on wine lists according to the soil type the grapevines grow in instead of by wine style, grape variety or winemaking region is the latest fad. I’m all for novelty but is this really a helpful way?
It’s easy to see where this trend is coming from. Wine professionals and aficionados alike are quick to tout analogies that link wine characteristics to soil: a whiff of gunflint in Sancerre grown on silex, a taste of graphite in the wines from the schist slopes of Priorat in Spain, a speckle of volcanic ash in Piedirosso from the flanks of the Vesuvius.
While geological factors do mark the character of a wine from a particular region, the idea that we can actually taste a pure line from the earth to the wine is contentious.
When describing such purity in wine one merely uses the language of evocation. It’s impossible to literally taste wet slate in a glass of German Riesling. There’s no direct dispersion from the slopes of the meandering Mosel to your palate. Minerals don’t gush directly from Kimmeridgean limestone into a glass of steely Chablis.
Besides, the matter is far more complicated than the new-fangled wine list headers such as ‘alluvial’, ‘volcanic’, ‘limestone’, ‘granite’ and ‘slate’ suggest. There are many other variables that define the influence of earth on wine than those considered in academic soil and bedrock classifications. How about depth, porosity, texture, relief, elevation, water holding capacity, ability to retain or deflect light off the vine canopy, organic matter content and human interference?
I doubt soil type per se can ever be a useful touchstone to split a restaurant’s inventory in groups of similarly tasting wines, which after all is the purpose of any list.
Just take two red wines made from two different grape varieties like Nebbiolo and Zinfandel. Even if both cultivars are planted in the same sandy clay, the flavours in a Barolo will be very unlike those in a glass of sticky premium red from Lodi.
Categorising wine for the benefit of patrons who want to choose the right bottle to go with their food based on the assumption that the uniqueness of wine is rooted in the soil is too naïve and impractical.
A producer’s Sauternes, sweetened by noble rot, tastes very different from his dry white wine made from the same varieties grown in identical gravel. Both would sit together on the list but I guess you wouldn’t contemplate having the former with delicately poached fish, would you?
Of course, different soil ecosystems can bring out subtle nuances. However, grape variety, climate and weather, viticultural practices and the winemaker’s mark are also all shaping factors.
I can’t but think that the vast majority of a restaurant’s clientele won’t understand or appreciate this novel effort. In the absence of a persuasive sommelier, customers will find themselves in quicksand and reflexively buy on price, grasp for their faithful label or give up entirely on purchasing a bottle.
In general, I recommend engineering the wine list according to a clear partitioning that keeps the client’s needs and logic in mind.
First divide the wines by sparkling or still (an aperitif, anyone), then split the wines further by colour (red or white with that dish or do we order rosé), continue separating by different wine styles (fruity or aromatic, light or fuller bodied, wooded or not) and grape variety (the usual or anything but Chardonnay and Cabernet), and have a distinct section for sweet wines (to accompany dessert). Finally, cluster wines from the same region and make it a point to highlight Maltese wines, especially if the establishment is frequented by foreign visitors wishing to taste the islands’ vinous treasures.
About the Author
Georges Meekers is the founder of Wine Campus, author of the award-winning Wines of Malta, an international wine judge, wine educator and member of the Circle of Wine Writers. He has written about wine for the Times of Malta for many years.
Connect on LinkedIn
Explore Wine Campus
Curious to deepen your understanding of wine? The Wine Campus online course takes you beyond articles like this through structured lessons, practical tastings and quizzes designed to build genuine confidence in wine.
Explore Georges’ Unversity Wine Course