On the Face of It: How to Read a Burgundy Label
A case could perhaps be made for other winemaking regions, but none could surpass Burgundy’s complexity except by the slimmest of margins.
In fact, it isn’t a stretch to say that, even though the 60-mile stretch of hilly territory between Dijon and Lyon basically produces just two grape varietals, the study of the region’s wines and their provenance is a kind of cult—er, I mean, passion pursuit could consume several lifetimes. The topic, notes the storied website Burghound, is “fiendishly complex.”
Fortunately for non-experts, the labels on these wines are practically maps. Un-fortunately for non-experts, the richness of detail on them can be daunting. That said, if you take a step back, the overall picture becomes much clearer, and you can get a pretty good idea of what’s inside.
The relative importance of the label elements can be debated. For instance, many would say that the appellation (the place of origin for the wine) is the most critical piece of information. Yet others would argue that the maker can, well, make or break the wine.
Rather than issue a ruling on this hierarchy, I decided to pull a bottle from my own cellar and analyze it from the top down.
The Shoulder Label: “Grands Vin De Bourgogne”
The phrase, “Grands Vins De Bourgogne,“ rendered in small caps across the shoulder label (placed where the neck widens into the bottle’s body) and split in two by the Joseph Drouhin family crest, is a bit of a fudge.
It translates just as you’d expect (“Great Wine from,” or perhaps, “of Burgundy”); what it means is simply that the wine is legitimately from the region.
The same “Grands Vins” wording appears on all of Joseph Drouhin’s other offer-ings from the region. And while this is quite a fine bottle, this generic phrase (and the absence of others) indicates it is the lowest of Burgundy’s four rankings.
The next three are Villages or Commune (named for their nearest town and making up more than a third of production), Premier Cru or 1er Cru (comprising less than 20% of all production), and Grand Cru (less than 5% of total output and often astoundingly expensive).
The Shoulder Label: “2020”
“Vintage” is more than an elegant way of saying “year”; it dates when the wine was harvested and made. In my mind, it always speaks of the summer growing season, the fall harvest, and the temperatures (and other conditions present) when the fruit was pressed into juice and then introduced to yeast.
Of course, a Burgundian winemaker would find my analysis too simplistic. That is because the harshness of the winter, the wetness of the spring, and the moment of picking matter nearly as much to the final product.
That said, the vintage of the bottle I opened was 2020, so a Burgundian wine-maker would probably scold me for opening such a recent vintage. It was great after an hour in the decanter, but this hypothetical winemaker would have been justified in their disapproval; I really should have let it sit somewhere quiet and dark for several more years.
Label Panel (top): “Joseph Drouhin”
“Joseph Drouhin” is the maker’s signature (almost literally in the case of a bottle from this winemaker) or, in the case of other vineyards, the Maison. And while my bottle, which cost about $100, isn’t one of Drouhin’s top offerings, the name carries real weight.
In 1880, a 22-year-old Joseph Drouhin took over an established wine business near the town of Beaune, in the very heart of Burgundy. The business grew steadily, and today (along with excellent property elsewhere and in Oregon, where they were a pioneer), Drouhin owns 93 hectares – about 230 acres – in Burgundy itself.
Wine has grown in the region for 2,000 years, give or take a few decades. So, it is no exaggeration to say that the land is among the most expensive real estate in the world.
Label Panel (middle): “Vosne-Romanée”
Speaking of land, the middle of the label panel, which, on my bottle, reads “Vosne-Romanée,” tells you with a fair amount of specificity just where the grapes were grown. Of course, on better bottles, the middle of the label panel might designate the Cru rating and even the specific vineyard.
Honestly, the “Vosne-Romanée” is why I purchased this special occasion wine: its proximity to greatness.
Located between Beaune and Dijon at the top end of the Côte de Nuits (which is in the northern part of the Côte d’Or), Vosne-Romanée is small. Still, it is home to the legendary Grand Crus of Romanée, Romanée-Conti, Richebourg, La Tâche, and Echézeaux, among others.
It’s all the Pinot Noir varietal taken to its highest heights of power and refine-ment. This unranked bottle won’t be up there, but it’s a close cousin.
Label Panel (bottom): “Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée”
In France, the “Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée” (AOC) designation, like others from different wine-producing European countries, provides bottles another stamp of authenticity, identifying the defined geographical region (terroir) in which all the stages of production and processing for an agricultural product were carried out.
In the case of the Vosne-Romanée AOC, only red wine made from the Pinot Noir varietal can earn the imprimatur of both the King of France and the Dukes of Burgundy.
On the Back
The back labels on wine can be the most confounding at all. They range from dedications to friends and family to rapturous (and fairly useless) songs.
The write-up on my Joseph Drouhin is pleasant enough, though the assertion that “all the vineyards…are cultivated with the greatest respect for nature” doesn’t tell us a whole lot.
What is relevant on my bottle, as elsewhere, is the name of the importer and/or distributor. Many of these companies have such widely respected portfolios that consumers will buy bottles unknown to them based solely on the importer’s or distributor’s reputation.
My bottle was imported and distributed by Dreyfus, Ashby & Co. Specializing in family-owned businesses, like Drouhin, Dreyfus, Ashby & Co. has a very reputable portfolio, which includes the legendary Bordeaux maker Petrus as well as Drap-pier, one of my favorite Champagnes.
Here, too (as on the front), is the ALC or ABV (alcohol by volume), as required nearly the world over. At 13.5%, the wine leans a little high for the region, but it’s hardly an alcohol bomb.
The Tasting
So, how is it? It was delicious, not as profound as a Grand Cru would be, but an awfully good Pinot, nonetheless.
The great critic James Suckling describes the 2020 Vosne-Romanée from Joseph Drouhin as a “very floral Vosne-Romanée with wonderful elegance, gliding over your palate, in spite of the firm core of fine tannins and the lemon-zest acidity that drives the long, straight finish. Really lingers at the end and has a de-gree of vitality that suggests this has good aging potential.”
So, it seems prudent to wait a while before I open another. The label said so.
(All images © https://dreyfusashby.canto.com)