Giving Chardonnay another shot

A true enemies-to-lovers tale.

I always thought I hated Chardonnay.

Whenever it was on a menu or offered at a dinner party, I (politely) declined. Too buttery. Too big. Too much. I knew it wasn’t my favorite style, but I was quiet about it. It’s a style enjoyed by many in the States, and I wondered if that meant my palate sucked. Do I even like wine if I don’t enjoy this?

I assumed that the flavor profile was coming from the grape, but I was wrong. (Being wrong is something you just have to get comfortable with when you’re in wine school.) When someone says a Chardonnay is “oaky and buttery,” that’s because of the taste it develops while fermenting in the oak barrel. The newer the barrel (typically American oak versus French oak) the oakier it becomes.

Without the oak, Chardonnay is a pretty neutral grape. It’s delicate and doesn’t have a distinct flavor, unlike Gewürztraminer or Sauvignon Blanc.

Sitting down to have my first unoaked Chardonnay was an experience. It had me rethinking the grape and the entire category of wine entirely. Throughout this course, I’ve tried smoky, acid-forward Chablis from Burgundy, textured and complex Chardonnays from the Yarra Valley, and silky tropical-fruit goodness from Mâconnais. I’ve discovered the richness of Chardonnay used in sparkling wine blends, and it’s the main grape used for Blanc de Blancs in Champagne, as well as many English Sparkling Wines and Crémants across France. The grape stretches far beyond what I’ve experienced coming from Napa, and I’ve discovered a newfound love for the variety.

I’ve learned that you can’t really put a category of wine like Chardonnay in a box. There’s a lot of creativity popping up amongst up-and-coming producers, with unique blends and winemaking techniques that are pushing boundaries of what we’ve previously known. The current market—from what’s sold at smaller wine shops to what’s being served at wine bars—is proof that preferences are shifting from fuller, oaked styles to higher acid, lighter body wines with more natural flavor.

So…maybe give Chardonnay another chance. If you’ve always been turned off by the buttery, oaky wines, like White Burgundy from Côte de Beaune or Chardonnay from Napa, then you might enjoy a Chablis. (I find myself gravitating in that direction a lot these days.) If you’re not sure about a Chardonnay on a list or in a shop, then ask the experts working there how the wine was made. If it sat in stainless steel, aged in bigger French barrels (bigger barrels = less oak touching the wine = less of the flavor), or went through malolactic conversion without oak (adds a slight buttery flavor, but not too much), then give it a try and let me know what you think!

Publication update: Yes, you’re seeing things correctly! I changed around the name of my publication. “Wine Bestie” is a cute name, but it didn’t really fit for what I want this space to be. So I changed it to “Cellar Notes” where I’ll be sharing all of my notes. From what I’m learning to what I’m drinking, you’ll get all of my thoughts.

Wine of the week

The wine of the week is Dappled, ‘Appellation’ Chardonnay 2023 from Yarra Valley, Australia. I tasted this at Dan’s Wine Bar in Dalston.

My tasting notes

• Appearance: Bright, pale, with a high viscosity. Green and youthful.

• Nose: Moderate intensity, some evidence of oak but not much, note of citrus zest, smoke, melon, and wood

• Palate: Dry with a high acidity, medium body, well-integrated alcohol, pronounced intensity of flavor, with a long finish.

Final conclusion

Smoky with notes of zesty lemon and toasty wood, this wine is as fresh as it is well balanced.