The One, The Only—Champagne

There are plenty of wines with bubbles in them. California has produced delicious incarnations of sparkling wine for 40 years. Spain has its value-driven cavas. From Italy, we get fragrant moscatos d’Asti, Proseccos and increasingly, sparklers that mimic the wines from Champagne. But no matter how they try, winemakers the world over must tip their hats to region that put bubbles on the map.

So even during this time of belt-tightening, let me borrow a slogan from a well-known beverage maker also famous for its bubbly drinks. “Champagne—It’s the Real Thing.”

If there is a problem with Champagne, it is its cost. I’m not aware of any Champagnes under $30 and most are well north of $35 a bottle. Now, I know there are folks out there who are saying: “Shoot, Gil, I’ve seen bottles of $8 champagne at the Maxi-Mart. What are you talking about?”

I know that many—if not most—Americans use bubbly, sparkling wine and champagne interchangeably when talking about any fizzy wine. We are mostly alone in this linguistic practice. Champagne comes from only one place and that is Champagne, France, which brings me back to its problem.

The Champagne region of France is located about 90 miles northeast of Paris. For those of you who received GPS devices for the holidays, that’s 49 degrees, 18 minutes north latitude. According to my esteemed wine professor, Steven Kolpan, who just published his third book (WineWise, $29.95, John Wiley & Sons), you are not supposed to be able to ripen grapes sufficiently when you’re that far away from the equator (or that close to the North Pole).

Of course, they do grow grapes up there, but it ain’t easy…or a given. If the cold climate is not enough of a challenge, frequent spring hail storms can eliminate that year’s crop in about 20 minutes. Lost vintages are so common in Champagne that producers are mandated by law to keep three years of wine in reserve as a hedge against successive years of bad luck. Underneath the streets of Reims and the surrounding towns lies a rainy-day stash of 1 billion bottles of Champagne.

But if Mr. Kolpan says you can’t grow grapes, why do they? Champagne sits across the English Channel, about 200 miles southeast of the striking white cliffs of Dover. Champagne’s gently sloping terrain is composed of the same white, chalky mineral found in those cliffs. During the day this chalk-like rock, called kimmeridgian limestone, absorbs the sun’s heat and keeps the vines just warm enough to get the grapes sufficiently ripe.

The limestone also offers another key benefit. It blesses the wines with “minerality.”

You may have heard snooty wine writers refer to a wine’s mineral qualities before. I’ve always found that an odd term. I use it infrequently because it’s not like a wine really tastes like a rock and most folks don’t understand what I’m talking about. It is an expression used to describe flavors that are not fruity, spicy, sweet or other more familiar tastes and sensations. It is hard to describe unless someone points it out to you. The best I can do here is to say it’s that pure, pointed, crystalline-like quality that great wines have.

Champagne has minerality in spades. It is the marker I look for when I am called on to identify and evaluate the quality of Champagne. Other sparkling wines have mineral qualities, but not as pronounced and prevalent as Champagne. It sets this region apart from all others and makes it worth the risk and effort to produce this unique wine.

Other requirements and factors, such as a nearly insatiable worldwide demand, also conspire to drive up Champagne prices.

OK, this explains the $30 to $50 bottles, but what’s up with those $100, $200 and $300 bottles? These ultra-premium, ultra-flashy, ultra-expensive, bottles are known as têtes des cuvées (literally heads of the blends) and most Champagne makers produce one. These wines come from the best vineyards. They are fussed over by the winemakers and may be aged for 10 years or more before they are released. These sparkling prima donnas are made only in the best of years. They also sport some outrageously ornate packaging, but if you’re going to charge three Franklins for the privilege of drinking fizzy grape juice, you ought to gussy it up a little, right?

But the question you may be asking yourself: “Is it worth it?”

The waffling response: Yes and no. Most têtes des cuvées have a noticeable depth and character not found in the lesser bottles. Despite its often gaudy packaging, not because of it, these wines are truly elegant and refined. I’ve always found it remarkable that these top-of-the-line Champagnes have finer and fewer bubbles that all other sparklers. Bubbles are part of the taste and texture of any sparkling wine, but they can mask, for better or worse, the wine’s flavors. In the case of a top-flight tête de cuvée, its floral, fruity and, yes, mineral qualities are quite special to behold. The delicate fizziness acts a mere accent to something that is already amazing.

So when is Champagne not worth it? Well, if it comes down to paying the rent or buying Champagne, Champagne loses. Or, if tasting exceptional bubbly wine is not your thing, then there are plenty of other substitutes out there.

But, please remember that the $8 sparklers from Spain or the $15 Proseccos from Italy are stand-ins for the Real McCoy. True Champagne is not the “champagne of wines;” Champagne IS Champagne. You may say that talking about such a luxury item is inappropriate for this difficult economic period and that I should focus on the alternatives. All I can say is that even in the darkest of times, some celebrations require the one, the only, Champagne.

For this report, Gil Kulers blind tasted 30 Champagnes, including three têtes des cuvées and five rosés, which were sampled separately.

1999 Piper-Heidsieck, Rare, Champagne, France

• $250

• Two Thumbs Way Up

• Best of the ultra-premiums. Aromas of orange zest, lemon, sourdough and subtle pine forest. Delicate, barely noticeable bubbles supported flavors of tart green apple, pear, crème caramel, toasted bread, cling peach and tangerine. Don’t serve too cold.

2000 Moët & Chandon, Grand Vintagae,
Champagne, France

• $60

• Two Thumbs Way Up

• Somewhat aggressive aromas of raw honey, rose pedal, earth, green apple that eventually mellowed. Bright flavors of lemon curd, toasted bread, lime zest and bing cherry. Many disparate flavors that somehow work together.

Henriot, Blanc Souverain, Pur Chardonnay, Champagne, France

• $49

• Two Thumbs Way Up

• The poster child for scintillating, chalky minerality. Unique aromas give it a sense of place. Flavors of lemon curd, green apple, poached pear, nutmeg and a note of creamy vanilla.

Duval-Leroy, Brut, Champagne, France

• $36

• Two Thumbs Way Up

• Engaging aromas of cling peach, orange zest, challah bread and butterscotch. Subtle bubbles don’t get in the way of complex flavors of peach, apricot, grilled pineapple and orange marmalade with notes of green almond and hazelnut.

Deutz, Brut Classic, Champagne, France

• $50

• Two Thumbs Way Up

• A Champagne lover’s Champagne with prominent yeasty, doughy aromas and a touch of almond and hazelnut. Barely noticeable effervescence supports flavors of orange zest, tangerine and toasted cashews. It leaves a lingering crème brûlée note.