The Changing Face of Champagne
Another day, another climate-change story. This time it was Louis Roederer president Frédéric Rouzaud and cellar master Jean-Baptiste Lécaillon causing a stir, admitting that the eponymous house was looking at the possibility of making still wines.
The idea of Champagne becoming renowned for Burgundy-style reds and whites seems ludicrous today, but it's a thought increasingly being entertained by the region's top producers. Every winemaker and owner I've interrogated recently, from Benoit Gouez at Moet & Chandon to Monsieur Rouzaud himself, employs a half-joking reference to making still wines for a living.
Except that they're not joking at all – on the contrary this is something on everyone's mind after the 2018 growing season, which produced Chardonnay more akin to Cote d'Or imitation than blending material for a steely blanc de blancs.
Of course, students of history will recognize the irony – Champagne is coming full circle. The region was a still wine producer centuries before the traditional method made an appearance, supplying Parisians with their weekend tipple.
That being said, the pale, pinkish Pinot Noir made in the Middle Ages has little in common with the best of wines of Ambonnay and Aÿ today. Indeed, a time-traveling vigneron from the 19th Century would scarcely recognize the region in 2018. They'd marvel at the growing emphasis on single-vineyard Champagnes; ripe, generous vin clair; the cult of the grower; corporate ownership and the zero-dosage trend, all of which are relatively recent occurrences. No other French wine region has changed so much over the past few decades, and no other region may be forced to completely give up its signature style – premium-grade fizz.
But in the short term at least, there is little danger of Champagne losing its sparkle. It's just that the time-honored "rules" governing what makes an exceptional glass of bubbly are being adapted and rewritten as global warming moves the goalposts.
Take the prestige cuvée. For decades, Champagne prestige cuvées have been marketed as a wafer-thin slice of an enormous pie; rarefied, glamorous and, naturally, far more expensive than an everyday NV bubbly. Or at least, this is what I was led to believe, both from my collection of wine literature and from my many visits to this venerable region. "Prestige cuvées are only made in the exceptional vintages," my hosts and respective textbooks would chorus.
Hand in hand with this mantra came the accepted wisdom that lean, barely ripe base wine with plenty of acidity leads to the best sparking wine. A browse through my father's almost inexhaustible spate of wine literature from the 1980s makes constant references to the fact that you cannot make exceptional fizz if the climate is too warm. Such wisdom was considered sacrosanct, to question it was considered sacrilegious
But no more. Prestige cuvées are increasingly becoming an everyday occurrence in our wine stores, while several houses declared vintages following the torrid 2003 vintage. Suddenly lean, barely ripe base wine was no longer required.
"I don't understand this fear of ripeness in Champagne – it's ridiculous," said Dom Perignon's ex chef de cave Richard Geoffroy, during a heated discussion several years ago. "I'm a winemaker and my job is to produce something worthy from the gift that nature gives us. It's nonsense that ripe vintages are automatically unworthy for prestige cuvée production."
Benoit Gouez is on the same page. There is rarely an interview with Gouez in which he doesn't take the opportunity to sing from the ripeness hymn sheet.
"2003 is a classic example of a vintage being prematurely written off and unfairly judged; too many brands gave up on 2003, before they had the chance the harness the vintage's potential for a powerful, vinous expression of Champagne," said Gouez recently.
"2009 was another excellent year, proving that this irrational fear of ripeness in Champagne is ludicrous. High acidity is not essential for a Champagne to age gracefully."
However, others continue to argue that maintaining vital acidity levels will be the defining headache of the 21st Century.
"Climate change is a reality. The challenge for the future of Champagne is to bring as much freshness as possible to our reserve wines. Acidity levels are much lower than they used to be. Reserve wines now need to add complexity and richness but also freshness," said Antoine Malassagne, AR Lenoble's co-owner in a recent interview.
"The harvest in Champagne is getting earlier each year, which means the acidity levels in the wines is going down. In order to maintain the right acidity level in my Champagnes, I decided to completely block malolactic fermentation this year."
Indeed, the one thing most Champagne houses agree on is that winemaking and viticultural management are likely to change dramatically over the next few decades. Several producers have consistently lowered the dosage on both their NV and vintage offerings, while the once essential softening effect of malolactic fermentation is increasingly considered unwelcome.
"Last year was the first time I blocked MLF, and I can imagine I'll have to do it more often in the coming years," admitted Malassagne.
"I used to partially block MLF, but have completely blocked it in the last two years. It's a difficult decision to make as its timing can alter the style of the wine."
Meanwhile, with new blood, comes new ideas. On January 1, 2019, Vincent Chaperon will become Dom Perignon's new chef de cave, succeeding Richard Geoffroy who held the role for 28 years. Earlier this year, Piper-Heidsieck appointed Émilien Boutillat as its chef de cave – not to be outdone, Taittinger enlisted Alexandre Ponnavoy as their new cellar master in May, taking over from the longstanding Loïc Dupont. And then there's Séverine Frerson, who left Piper-Heidsieck this year after only a few months to accept a position at Champagne Perrier-Jouët. In addition, Krug's brilliant winemaker Julie Cavil continues to play a role of greater importance, which suggests that, before too long (nothing has been officially announced), Eric Lebel will decide to put his feet up.
But which changes and innovations will this new firmament bring to Champagne? Boutillat, for example, has worked for still wine producers in South Africa (La Motte Estate), Chile (Viu Manent), the US (Peter Michael Winery), New Zealand (Mud House Winery) and in France (Château Margaux). This suggests he has something fresh and bold to bring to the venerable house of Piper-Heidsieck, which has really thrived under the stewardship of Regis Camus.
Or perhaps things will continue as they are. Boutillat, like all chef de caves, must maintain the house style decreed by the owners, although it's certain that he and others will bring their personal touch to the grand vin. Nevertheless, they are all servants to the wishes of their masters.
But what is now essential for any leading chef de cave, is to be the global face of a Champagne house. New launches are increasingly very grandiose affairs, while traditional marketing is being supplemented with lavish product enhancement. Several major producers – including Moët & Chandon, Louis Roederer and Piper- and Charles Heidsieck – have recently marketed tiny volumes of uber-expensive, limited-edition bottles; a growing number of brands are also working with jewelers and different artisans to create super expensive, niche releases.
This dramatic approach to marketing Champagne reached its zenith in October, when Piper-Heidsieck announced the launch of two new limited edition deluxe cuvées – Rare Le Secret High Jewellery and Rare Le Secret Goldsmith. The former is beyond exclusive; just 10 bottles of the zero-dosage Champagne (1997 vintage) have gone on sale worldwide, including a diamond and sapphire edition in the US and a diamond version in France. The bottle was designed in collaboration with French jeweller Mellerio, and is adorned with over 500 tiny diamonds, and a one-carat diamond, ruby, emerald or sapphire centerpiece. The UK market was treated to three bottles, currently on sale at Harrods for the formidable asking price of $144,000.
Naturally, this dramatic approach to selling Champagne has its share of detractors. One colleague in the trade described Rare Le Secret High Jewellery as "stupidly vulgar", a phrase I've heard a few times this month. Not that such comments will bother the producers, as the market for expensive Champagne is booming. Moreover the vintage category remains largely stagnant, which indicates that some houses may follow Perrier-Jouët's example over the next decade, and abandon vintages in favor of producing larger volumes of more easily marketable prestige fizz. This is the modern paradigm – the middle ground is increasingly stagnant, and the bottom end of the market is now dominated by Prosecco. Sales of Champagne in traditional markets like the UK continue to decline, while China seems to have woken up to the allure of lavishly packaged, expensive fizz.
"Change is the only constant" famously observed Heraclitus of Ephesus, a lesson that few Champenoise in the 21st Century need to learn.
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