Ah, the classic debate continues. It’s a pretty strange (and completely useless in some regards) one, as you’ll see in a minute. Generally speaking, anything in continental Europe is considered “old world” and anything outside of continental Europe is considered “new world”. What old and new means is questionable, since South Africa was making wine during the 1600’s and yet they’re considered new. Let’s buckle up and make way for yet another facet of the European colonialist mentality.
All of the statements one can make about old-world and new-world wine are generalizations. Well I guess that’s really a generalization, which is a generalization about a generalization. Who cares. Anyway, the main generalizations “people” make about old world wines are the following: lower alcohol, higher acidity, less perceptible oak, less extracted, more balanced and elegant, possessing many savory flavors rather than just fruity ones, and overall more “serious” and “sophisticated.” Conversely, new world wines are considered to be the opposite of all of these. These differences are usually credited to old-world climates being cooler than new world climates, production styles, the overall knowledge level and philosophies of winemakers, the amount of time wine has been made there, etc.
Sometimes these differences are apparent and these assumptions turn out to be pretty accurate. Take Burgundy for example. They’ve been making wine there for more than a thousand years. A THOUSAND YEARS. That time has given people the opportunity to figure out where the best land is for grape growing and what grows best there, as well as to have had established vineyards in place for an incredibly long time. That’s not all; think about the amount of time Burgundy as a whole has had to build its reputation. Now think about the “new world”. The winemaking industry we all know of in Oregon started in the 1960’s. Of course Burgundian winemakers have had a helpful head-start, but that doesn’t mean pinot noir or chardonnay from Oregon can’t be of a comparable quality.
Sometimes these generalizations can be complete bullshit. Sure, Burgundy is cooler than some places in California where pinot noir is made. The wines can be more savory, possess less oak flavor and have lower alcohol levels. However, there are also pinot-noir-producing regions in California that are cooler than some in France, like Languedoc-Roussillon. In this case, the Californian wines may be more savory than the fruit-dominant French wines. Already we’ve found an exception to the rule, but that’s just scratching the tawdry, garish surface.
Many new world wines are considered serious and sophisticated. They are praised for their balance and transparency of the land from which they came. Bizarrely, many of these wines are flattered by being called “old world” in style. Instead of these elegant wines being considered representative of the quality of new world wines, wines that fit the “big alcohol, low acid, dark and extracted, etc.” bill are confidently stated as wholeheartedly new world.
Now, I’m sure any of our logic-appreciating fans out there will be jumping for joy after reading that. Why in the name of the lord would you choose to pick the “worst” wines from a region to define it unless you had some sort of bias or agenda to prove? Alright I’m sorry, I promise I’ll set aside my copy of Manufacturing Consent for this post. But that doesn’t change the fact that there really are wines made in the new world which are similar in character to old world wines. In fact, I was blind tasted on a bottle of 2009 Oregon pinot noir a few months ago and was certain it was from Burgundy. Now either I’m a hubristic asshole (which is possible) or they were legitimately very similar! Why then would one choose to simply label this wine as old world in style rather than stating its characteristics?
And that, my friends, leads me to my next point. People like to label and categorize things. They like to be able to put things in boxes so they can better recognize them, which, to be fair, certainly has its time and place. Being able to blind taste a wine and correctly identify its origin and composition and vintage and whatever else you care about certainly requires some boxes. However, we have to be careful that we don’t make gross generalizations about a region as a whole. People will say things like “oh I don’t like California Chardonnay. It’s just not my style.” Really? Have you tried every chardonnay from California? Or are you just letting a couple wines you’ve had, or even worse, an “expert,” make that decision for you?
Look, I’m not here to state that I’m right or what you should believe, quite the contrary. I think people should figure out what they like for themselves without letting the opinions of others interfere. Do I like all zinfandels made in California? No! Is a glass of zinfandel from any of my favorite producers the exact wine I need to accompany a beautifully roasted rack of lamb? You bet your tits! ALSO, are their producers in Italy who make primitivo (which is technically not identical to zinfandel but veerryyy closely genetically related) in an extremely similar style to that in California? YES. Do we instead label these Italian producers “New World?!” NO AND IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY.
I’m sorry, I’ll try to calm down a bit. My main point is that at the end of the day, wine is liquid whose quality is subjective. People choose to categorize it based on boxes which others have created, usually in order to more easily understand it. The issue is that these boxes have their own biases either explicitly scrawled on their faces or more subtly incorporated in different ways. I’ve been told and found that I have an “old-world palate,” which is an indication of what styles of wines I like and not where I like my wines to be from. With that said, I do love a lot of “new world” wines. Also, I’ve had a lot of wines from Europe that I absolutely hated! They tasted like sweaty feet dunked in cat piss.
I don’t want to unintentionally make the wrong point here. There are differences between wines made in Napa and wines made in Bordeaux. Without a doubt. They’re on different continents for Christ’s sake. One of the most beautiful things about wine is that the location in which the fruit is grown can be transparent. With some practice you can smell a wine and correctly deduce that it’s a Cabernet Franc from the Chinon region of France. That’s amazing. It’s absolutely incredible. You can smell a different glass and tell that it’s a Pinot Noir from Sonoma County. It’s insane. The point here is that by labeling wines as “old world” and “new world” we end up implying things that we may not intend to. We may also be writing off an entire wine producing region (or country!) just because of some preconceived notion we had.
I know I’ve said a lot of things that seem disjointed and I may not have made an extremely coherent argument. Just because a wine is from a certain place doesn’t mean it’s good or bad. I’ve had plenty of wines from renowned regions that sucked, and I’ve had wines from lesser-established regions that blew me away. If you take anything away from this, I hope it’s this: next time someone recommends a wine that is from a region you may dislike or have heard negative things about, before dismissing it at least ask “what’s it like?”
Photo by Viktor Forgacs on Unsplash
Cork Taint 