White Burgundy: An Intro

Perhaps the only straightforward thing that can be said about white wines from Burgundy is that they are all made with chardonnay (technically, that’s not even true; there is one other authorized white grape, aligoté, two, if you include the minuscule amount of pinot blanc planted, but you’re likely to rarely come across them—though aligoté does have its adherents—so most treat them as though they don’t exist).

Burgundy is the epitome of why wine is so intimidating and incomprehensible to most wine drinkers. A Chardonnay made in the northernmost part of the region, Chablis, will have virtually no resemblance to one made merely miles to the south in the commune of Puligny-Montrachet.

Burgundy is all about place names (lieux dits) and there are literally hundreds and hundreds of legally recognized ones, and untold hundreds, maybe thousands more, that can show up on labels at the choosing of the producer.

Then factor in the distinctions between premier and grand cru, villages and region-wide wines, and it’s no wonder that many would-be Burgundy drinkers choose to leave these great whites to the most serious collectors. (For a discussion of how Burgundy vineyards are organized, please see Intro to Burgundy, the Wine World’s Most Complicated Region.)

And that’s a shame because nowhere on earth does Chardonnay excel the way it does in Burgundy. From the gloriously lean, steely and citrus-soaked versions of Chablis, to the lushly layered, buttery ones of Meursault to the incomparable Montrachet, that most “red” of whites, every possible Chardonnay style is represented. The whites of Burgundy are the standard by which all the world’s other Chardonnays are measured.

For the most part, oak features prominently in Burgundy (though far less so in Chablis and Mâcon, both of which will be discussed in separate posts because they differ so markedly from those in the Côte d’Or, Burgundy’s heartland).

Ripening of the grapes, while sometimes problematic given the more variable climate as compared to New World outposts, such as California and Australia, is no longer the question mark it once was from vintage to vintage. Despite weather vagaries, the Burgundy “style,” if it’s even fair to generalize given the number of them, is round and full in the mouth.

Associations typically made include stone fruit, citrus (particularly in certain spots like Chablis and Corton-Charlemagne, my personal favorite Chardonnay place in the world), some tropical fruit (though far less than in California Chards) and nuts of various types, particularly hazelnut. Marmalade, honey and butter show up frequently, as do crème brûlée and brown spices like cinnamon and nutmeg.

Earthy accents, such as mushroom, dust, slate and gravel, lend balance to these rich wines. White Burgundies are excellent agers, and in my experience, hold up better on the whole than the reds (all of which are made with pinot noir).

As far as cost goes, you’ll likely pay in the high teens to the mid-$20s for an entry-level Bourgogne Blanc but the price can easily soar above $50 depending on the reputation of the producer.

A move up in class to premier cru status will likely treble the cost, and again, depending on the producer (and which premier cru), can easily clear $100, often several times over. Grand cru bottles are always priced in multiples of $100 with the $1,000+ mark not uncommon.