Is there anything natural about raw wine? by Bruce Palling

Great wines in the window of a Neapolitan wine shop

 When I fled from my country town in Australia for the “Big Smoke” (the contemporary description for Melbourne) I was given some friendly advice by a cosmopolitan friend – “Now mate, there are two things you never discuss when you meet someone at a party – religion or politics.” This was disturbing news. At that early stage of my life, these were almost the only two things that I ever talked about. Fortunately for everyone, I have moved on, but a similar situation now seems to have arisen in the wine world with the topic of natural wine. Its not exactly true to say people don’t talk about it, but there is a tendency amongst serious wine writers to try and keep their head down for a quiet life and never actually articulate how much of it they believe to be undrinkable rubbish.

So, what the hell is natural wine? Lets stick to the facts and sidestep whether or not the statement itself is an oxymoron. The natural wine movement believes that what hundreds of million people drink daily is in fact an artificial abomination which relies on chemicals and mechanical processes which strip it of its inherent character. Instead, they believe we should drink wine made with the absolute minimum of human intervention, so that it can fully express its character. This all sounds perfectly reasonable.

It becomes more complicated because there are no agreed standards for what makes a wine natural or not. While some object to adding sulphur dioxide, for others it is more important if the yeasts used are imported or local. There are some outstanding wines made within these parameters, such as Gerard Boulay’s Sancerre, but it is not deemed “natural” because of other techniques used in its production. The other confusing thing is that a wine can be deemed organic or even biodynamic, but have nothing to do with natural wine, like for instance Domaine Romanée-Conti, the most expensive wine in the world.

It is true to say that you haven’t seen any natural wine in a supermarket close to you, or probably even at a wine merchants. Where you come across it in considerable volume is in trendy restaurants or wine bars, which often pay homage to New Nordic Cuisine, as brilliantly expostulated by Rene Redzepi at Noma in Copenhagen. The feeling goes that if the produce served in a restaurant is best when it has no pesticides and herbicides, the same must be true for wine.

This all sounds pretty cool to me – how could anyone object to these noble goals? Well, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and the same is true for wine, but in the tasting. Unfortunately, this is the point at which there is a wide divergence of opinion. What natural wine believers think is pure, clean and authentic, can taste for others like putrid apple cider, stale sherry or just as bad - characterless, bland and acidic. The additive that the natural wine believers object to the most is sulphur dioxide, a naturally occurring element that is essential to stop wine oxidising. It has been in use for more than 2,000 years since the Romans burnt sulfur candles inside wine vessels to prevent them spoiling. The amounts required to allow wine to last more than a few days is around 30 parts per million. Without adequate amounts of sulphur dioxide, wine becomes highly unstable and unpredictable.

Unfortunately, the problem is that wine without any human intervention doesn’t exist – it is purely a man made invention and without any human interference, all you have is either grape juice or vinegar. However, I am a generous-hearted soul, so if that is the taste that some people prefer, who am I to stop them? For me, the difficulty arises when these kind-hearted earnest people try to ram it down my throat to convert me to their cause, rather like demented Moonies or the more extreme Islamists who inhabit the Hindu Kush. The whole natural wine movement is in danger of turning into a cult. Also, in true cult fashion, there are ideological splits within the movement. To begin with, there was a natural wine fair held in London every summer but after a difference of opinion between the founders, now there are two.

I am not denying that many of their arguments against mass produced wine are valid and that they are often characterless, riddled with chemicals and additives. Like them, I also dislike most high alcohol fruit bomb wines. The problem is when they simply proclaim the moral high ground by defining themselves as “natural”, thereby subtlety dismissing everything else as artificial. I have been drinking interesting wine for more than 40 years and trust I can continue doing the same for a few more decades yet. It sticks in my craw that so many superb wine makers are treated as if they make an inferior product because it doesn’t equate to what some self-appointed experts deem is “natural”. In fact, a more correct term for this brew would be raw wine.

One way of exploring these issues would be to have a blind tasting of the very best examples of raw wines up against traditional wines, but it is very difficult to arrange such an event, as the leading naturalists don’t show any interest in doing it. If they do, I would happily participate and be delighted to be shown the error of my ways. Recently, Eric Asimov, the wine writer of the New York Times, responded to this query of mine by asking what would it prove to do so. Well, you could say why hold blind tastings of any kind, no matter whether or not the wines are raw or cooked or whatever. To my mind, it would be informative, especially to those who have no particular axe to grind.

I asked the opinion of my friend Stephen Browett, who is chairman and owner of Farr Vintners, the largest brokers of fine wine in the world with an annual turnover of tens of millions of pounds. “Our trade in natural wine is zero. I am quite nonplussed by them – I just don’t get it. Everyone who is passionate about food and wine wants the least amount of human intervention possible. We all know what factory farming does to the quality of meat and we all know what herbicides and pesticides does to the quality of fruit and vegetables. The problem with wine is that it is not just a fruit product. It is more than just grapes and you can’t make wine without human intervention, unlike cows or carrots.

The natural wine movement seems to think that being natural is more important than being good. They will even excuse a wine that is buggered up by saying it is natural, whereas for me, fundamentally it has got to taste good to be able to keep and be reasonably consistent. You can get lucky and have a good one but then the next six will be rubbish. If you can’t deliver a consistent product, that’s not much use and of course it would be a disaster if we sold it.” I couldn’t agree more. One question I would like to have answered from a naturalist - what precisely are the flaws in the wines produced by Domaine Romanee-Conti, Domaine Rayas and Domaine Leflaive? What are they doing wrong that would be rectified if they followed the raw path? For me, tasting La Tache 42 or 66; Fonsalette Syrah 89 or Bienvenue Batard Montrachet 99 from these producers are profound, humbling experiences. To hear some ignorant zealot proclaim that such wines are somehow illegitimate because they have unnatural yeasts or traces of sulphur dioxide, makes me realise that it is probably futile to enter into a debate on the subject. Even a Moulin a Vent from 1986 can be an extraordinary experience - something that is unlikely to occur with a raw wine as they are not structured to last nearly three decades.

I usually know what places to avoid – it is the restaurants that only sell raw wine, as there are no other options. This means places like Terroir or Duck Soup in London, Relae in Copenhagen, Bastards in Malmo, Daniel Berlin in Osterlen or Chateaubriand in Paris. The tragedy for me is that all of these places serve first-rate food, but I simply cannot enjoy it if there is no alternative but to have what I consider undrinkable wine. I politely rang Duck Soup to ask if I could pay corkage and bring a bottle of Fourrier Gevrey-Chambertin. The poor receptionist was quite distressed and said she couldn't allow this as they strongly believed their wines went perfectly with the food.

Sublime dish from Daniel Berlin

Daniel Berlin is a master chef, producing cuisine which is the equal of René Redzepi but alas, the sommelier is his father, who only serves wines provided by Pontus Elofsson, who, when he worked for Noma, refused to even serve Bordeaux. Pontus used to boast about only carrying wines that were “wild and free”, which is common parlance usually meant serious flawed or oxidised. Certainly the wines served at Daniel Berlin were depressingly extreme and undrinkable for my wife and myself, though I am sure devotees would rave about them. I have heard of some guests there politely returning the wines they are asked to taste and then being told they are superb by the sommelier. Apparently on one occasion it became quite ugly as the sommelier couldn't comprehend that some people actually loathe drinking flawed wine.

Even at Noma, where the whole raw wine movement really gained traction, they have now changed their attitude and also stock seriously good wine from world famous producers. Their red Burgundy list has an extraordinary array of great “unnatural” wines from Leroy, Rousseau, Mugnier and Tremblay. Another excellent restaurant in London is The Dairy, where there was no choice, but fortunately they have changed their attitude and now stock some good conventional wine. Hibiscus, the Two Star Michelin restaurant in London, has gone through a similar renaissance, after a short phase of only stocking raw wine.

If only life was that simple. The real problem is that raw wine believers are incapable of keeping the good news to themselves – they have to convert the heathen to the true faith, like those well-meaning missionaries in the South Seas who often ended up providing physical as well as mental sustenance to their sceptical flock.

I suffered this fate only last week in Paris, where I was eating at one of the very best new style of restaurants that prides itself on innovative cuisine at affordable prices and is booked out for weeks in advance. For various reasons, I was a guest of the chef, who was away, so I was left in the capable hands of the general manager, who doubles up as the chief sommelier. Perhaps the fault was mine, but I don’t think I could I have made my position any clearer. She asked what I would like to drink, so I said to her that I had a weakness for Burgundy, but I would be happy with anything she chose, as long as it was not natural (i.e. raw) wine.

So, when it came to the white wine, I was told “This is better than Burgundy”. This naturally perked up my interest as I had noticed that the wine list had several superb wines from the late Didier Dagueneau, a wild man who made extraordinary Pouilly Fumé.

Alas, you have probably by now, worked out the way the evening actually progressed. I was served only raw wine, which was sometimes drinkable in a bland one-dimensional sort of way, but occasionally tipped over into the disgusting. It might seem absurd to bang on about things like this, but because I adore wine, when this occurs it throws me into a complete depression, as I hate being forced to drink wine that I hate. Later, I heard that the manager went into the kitchen and triumphantly announced that she had served raw wine to me that I liked. Can you imagine the fuss if someone who genuinely loves raw wine was only served conventional wine in an endeavour to convert them?

Another recent meal in one of the very greatest restaurants in Europe was blighted by several bottles of what I can only term “Orange Potion” being served, as several of our party were “naturalists”. When it comes to meals, I give equal importance to food and wine, so when you have sublime food, there is nothing worse than being made to suffer by drinking wine that revolts you.

I won’t blame you if your response is that it served me right, but it personally pains me when anyone tries to force their opinions or taste onto me or anyone else. That, after all, is what thousands of people laid down their lives to prevent, on those beaches in Normandy, precisely 70 years ago.

A shorter version of this story appears in Newsweek International

http://www.newsweek.com/why-natural-wine-tastes-worse-putrid-cider-257281

An earlier story about "natural" wine

http://www.gastroenophile.com/2012/05/0-0-1-1070-6102-wall-street-journal.html