The rise and fall of Chardonnay

by Rob Buckhaven
 

Like any celebrity who becomes overexposed in the media, grapes suffer the same public backlash when they’re deemed too big for their stems. Easy to access and marketed with skimpy labels barely covering the bottle’s midriff, these new wave, nubile wines go from pin-up to pariah at the drop of a screwcap.

Chardonnay is the most high profile recipient of this dubious honour, having been celebrated and vilified in equal measure over the years. Whether it’s Aussie Chardonnay clambering out of cars sans underwear in a last ditch attempt to make the front page, or Californian Chardonnay who’s just had a meltdown on Celebrity Big Brother – these grapes must go to rehab, publicly apologise and be shown to reform their character to win back our favour.

Like Paris Hilton, New World Chardonnay burst onto the world scene in the 90s, with every producer worth his salt riding on her bandwagon. Over the top, wearing too much oak and loaded with alcohol; this was a far cry from the demure and expensive Burgundian numbers people could look at but not touch. This new style wine-kitten would strut around our supermarket aisles half-clothed, tempting us with tropical fruit and butter flavours until we succumbed in our droves. She might have been permanently on a bogof, but we weren’t about to tell her to do so.

Spearheaded in Australia, this new ‘instant wine’ was dreamed up by canny wine producers sensing a gap in the market. They realised that if they made super-sized oak chip tea bags, they could achieve the sought-after buttery character quickly and cheaply. Production laws being more relaxed in the New World, the Aussies also quickly cottoned on that adding sugar would increase richness and make their wines more voluptuous. So from a naturally pretty and appealing grape, Chardonnay was buffed, preened and inflated to artificial bleach-blonde bombshell status.

For years Bimbo Chardonnay’s global success was stratospheric, with producers having to increase production just to keep up with demand. The easy-drinking style, eye-catching and simple to understand labels and sub-£5 price tag made new World Chardonnay a popular addition to the weekly shop. That was until one day the public lashed back; fed up with this brash, headache-inducing wine that would not stay out of the tabloids. Anti-Chardonnay fever was swiftly upon us, peaking with the formation of the AOB Club – ‘anything but Chardonnay’. Bridget Jones was not a member…

After a stint of self-reflection in the Priory, Chardonnay is no longer found falling out of the wine aisle, returning to our shelves a more demure creature. She’s put on some sensible clothes and has been on the Atkins diet for a leaner figure. No longer caked in oak, Chardonnay’s ripe fruit features and mouth-watering acidity can now come thorough. Here we see what a naturally refreshing and food-friendly wine she can be.

Try These…

Fresh out of rehab and out to make a good impression, Chardonnay puts her best stiletto-free foot forward with the zesty McWilliams Hanwood Estate Crisp Chardonnay from South Australia. This is Chardonnay as she is meant to be; oak-light, with her fresh lemon and lime attributes left to shine. £7.99 from Majestic.

Chardonnay’s statuesque renaissance comes to the fore with Chile’s Neblina Chardonnay, £4.99 from Majestic. Here she is in executive mode; dressed in lively peach with a focussed, flinty acidity making her a post work favourite.

If you have not yet had South African overload, try a vivacious Chardonnay from the Western Cape. Vredenhof Cellar Reserve Chardonnay is an oak-kissed party girl on her gap year with bucket loads of energy and a penchant for fish dishes. This Chardonnay can be found in Waitrose at £5.99.

Chardonnay from New Zealand tends to be a passionate and feisty individual with a zesty, cool-climate acidity and bags of fruit attitude. Montana Unoaked Chardonnay from the South Island is all pineapple and passionfruit in the mouth followed by a lemon sherbet and lime after-bite. £7.50 from winedown.co.uk.

If French golden era Chardonnays dripping with natural elegance and caramel oak are your bag, then only a Burgundian glamour-puss will do. With luscious Toffee Crisp and grapefruit intensity, Tesco’s Mâcon Villages is £5.58 of mink coat-sporting French screen starlet.

So whichever side of this alluring grape ultimately takes your fancy, enjoy Chardonnay’s company this summer. I know I will.