Not All Natural Wine Is Funky, Faulty and Foggy
Or how the Rise in Natural Wine Has Ruined What It Was Intended to Be
I’m going back to my roots today — wine and opinions on controversial topics.
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That’s my pitch done. On to today.
If you’ve heard of the term natural wine, what comes to mind? Is it some funky labelled bottle filled with cloudy wine that tastes super weird?
If so, you’re not alone. Natural wine is much more likely to now be considered a style, and a weird one at that.
But that’s not what natural wine was ever meant to be. It’s certainly not how it started. Natural wine was originally a reaction against the chemical-fuelled commercialisation of wine.
A principle, not a style.
A principle I fell so hard for when I discovered it around 15 years ago, I opened a wine shop and bar with a big focus on “natural” wine.
I put natural in quotation marks there because in my joint, funky-flavoured wines were the exception, not the rule.
That’s not how most natural wine bars or stores work these days. Head into many and you’ll be faced with a wall of rainbow-coloured wines with fun labels that tell you nothing about its contents. The wine could be the very best or the very worst you’ve ever tasted.
Whilst this is kind of fun (don’t get me wrong, I’m all for this style when it’s made well), it’s also a problem. Many people now consider natural wine as this one-size-fits-all style.
Because of that, it’s open to abuse, ridicule, and dismissal. And it certainly doesn’t encompass everything natural wine can be.
That matters for all wine drinkers, whether you like natural wines, dislike them, or haven’t yet tried them.
If you think all natural wine looks and tastes like something dreamed up whilst the winemaker was on psychedelics, I’m here to try and change your mind.
No one wins when dogma is involved
I’m not here to give you a history lesson on natural wine but there is one thing you need to know about the evolution of the modern movement.
The guys that started it all back in the late 1970s and early 1980s were principled about what constituted natural wine but not dogmatic.
As far as I’m aware, they didn’t even call themselves natural back then. Even now, they’re reluctant to define themselves that way.
Most of us wine nerds consider it started in the French region of Beaujolais. Four winemakers (the so-called Gang of Four) and their mentor Jules Chauvet were tired of the chemical-laden, heavily manipulated wine of their neighbours.
They wanted to do things differently. More “naturally.”
So they stopped using synthetic chemicals in the vineyard. They let the grapes ferment spontaneously without adding yeast. They did as little as possible in the cellar. No enzymes, colour correctors, or any other other tricks winemakers have at their disposal.
As for sulphites — the modern natural wine movement’s most divisive addition —although they preferred wine without sulphites, as far as I’m aware they all added if they had to.
They still do.
Their principles guided their winemaking, the result being lighter, slightly cloudy and very different-tasting wines. Wines unlike the world had seen since someone had the bright idea of making wine on an industrial level.
But that was 40 years ago and 40 years is a long time in wine. Trends morph and are co-opted.
Now many people see natural wine as dogmatic. They believe all natural wine to be funky, yeasty and weird. Some media outlets have had a fit over the stuff.
I indeed know plenty of natural winemakers who refuse to do anything with their wine — from adding sulphites to filtering — even if the result is a cloudy, faulty mess. And I know plenty of natural wine fans who refuse to drink anything that isn’t, well, a cloudy, faulty mess.
Whilst this is fine in isolation — I always say you can drink whatever you want — the problem is that this reductionist definition of natural wine does no favours for the movement because it loses sight of what it was supposed to be.
I’m not the only one who thinks so. Wine journos like Simon Woolf — a big natural wine defender — says something similar:
Call it natural, real, authentic, minimal intervention, the end game was never supposed to be faulty wine. Yet there are fans of the genre who now equate natural wine with these stylistic traits, and even express disappointment if they’re served a glass that’s squeaky clean and defect-free.
This is a problem because if you’re a naturalista who only drinks the faulty stuff, you’re missing out on a whole world of naturally made wines that don’t fit that style. There are many and they are amazing.
And it’s a problem if you think you don’t — or think you wouldn’t — like natural wine because, if all you’ve ever tried is the funky cloudy stuff, you could be missing out on the best wines of your life.
And it’s a problem for the wine industry because reductionist thinking has resulted in some serious crimes against natural wines.
Cloudy, funky or not.
Natural wine deserves better
Better than winemakers who make it without care and attention
Making a good natural wine is hard. It takes the utmost precision and attention to detail. That Gang of Four? They were meticulous with their analysis of their fermentations. They knew exactly what they were doing.
Unfortunately the same can’t be said of some natural winemakers today. Winemakers who have bought into the natural wine trend but without the knowledge or expertise to make truly excellent wine.
Again, Simon Woolf and I are on the same page:
Perhaps it was inevitable that as more vignerons joined the vin nature bandwagon, there would be a dilution of quality. It takes serious skill and experience to produce outstanding wine without the safety net of lab yeasts, must corrections, clarification and sulphites. Not to mention perfect fruit and exemplary vineyard work.
I know of many wineries who are very much not exemplary. I’ve visited their domaines and seen how little they care for cellar hygiene (a spotless cellar helps prevent spoilage without resorting to chemicals).
I’ve spent time with radical zero-zero (nothing added, nothing taken away) winemakers whose dogma comes above everything else.
And they are doing a disservice to the very wine they claim to love.
Better than winemakers wanting to make a quick buck
There’s nothing like a trend to ruin a principle.
Just look at what Kermit Lynch — a dude who basically created the natural wine market in the US and a hero of mine — predicted over 35 years ago in his book Adventures on the Wine Route:
So-called natural wines have become a small but growing force. The definition of “natural” is not at all precise, but I’ll be glad if it remains that way. No rules, please. If the bureaucrats define natural, we can be sure that the movement will be co-opted.
Whilst bureaucrats didn’t get their hands on natural wine (there is still no legal definition), the term was certainly co-opted. And with that, came problems.
Here’s a dirty little secret for you. Because natural wine has no legal definition, you can find wine marketed as natural when it is — by anyone’s definition — not.
I’m not going to name names here but I personally know of winemakers who use non-organic grapes (a big no-no whatever your definition of natural wine) to make cloudy unfiltered wine, stick a funky label on it and sell it to unsuspecting natural wine bars for far more money than it’s worth.
All of this does nothing to move the natural wine movement forward because it muddies the waters even more than they admittedly are.
If you can’t trust when a wine — or the joint selling it — claims it’s natural, who can you trust?
Better than dogmatic natural wine bars and stores
I’m all for wine bars and stores selling exactly what they want. If they only want to sell natural wine clichés, they can go right ahead.
But these natural wine bars and stores are many people’s first — and sometimes only — exposure to natural wines. If all they sell is the funky stuff, that does the dirty on the movement.
It makes it very easy to dismiss all natural wine as faulty, homogenous-tasting rubbish.
It breaks my heart because I know how amazing natural wine can be. How — when it’s made well — it can create the most elegant, nuanced, energetic and beautiful wines you’ll ever taste. Flavours that commercialised wines can only dream of.
But if you never get a chance to drink it because your local natural wine bar only sells something that looks and tastes more like cider, you’ll never know.
And that, my friends, is the saddest thing of all.
Repeat after me — natural wine is not a style
I’m with Kermit Lynch and other wine big-wigs like Jamie Goode. I don’t think trying to define natural wine is the way forward. We tried and all we got was some reductionist BS.
To sidestep all the dogma, we need to remember just one thing.
Natural wine is not a style.
It’s a philosophy. One that thousands of amazing winemakers across the world work with every single day but never think to call themselves natural.
That philosophy is built on protecting the environment. On meticulously analysing the wine as it ferments to jump on problems as they arise. On doing the absolute minimum you have to, but intervening when necessary.
It’s about being pragmatic, not dogmatic.
Within this very special breed of winemakers, you will find thousands of wines that will melt your mind with their deliciousness, purity and complexity.
The funky stuff can be great. Awesome, in fact. I’m delighted it exists because it showcases a very different side to what wine can be.
Not all wine has to be perfect, it can be weird. Like they say, there is perfection in imperfection.
But this is not everything natural wine is about. To think that is, as I say, an abuse of the term. A term which is already tarnished by the word natural (because yes, no wine can be truly natural).
To truly discover what natural wine can be requires an open mind. Not so you can embrace those weird funky wines, but to embrace a wider definition of the term.
And if you need help starting, you know where I am.
EDIT: A reader asked if I could provide some recommendations so here are some of my favourite “clean-natural” producers from around the world.
The aforementioned gang of four in Beaujolais:
Guy Breton
Jean Foillard
Jean-Paul Thevenet
Guy Breton
France
Jo Landron, Muscadet, (bright light whites)
Domaine des Roches Neuves (Thierry Germain), Saumur-Champigny (light reds)
Alice & Olivier De Moor, Chablis
Sylvain Pataille, Burgundy
Domaine La Soufrandiere, Burgundy
Domaine Gramenon, Rhône
Mas de Libian, Ardeche
Maxime Magnon, Corbières, Languedoc
Mas del Périé (Fabien Jouves), Cahors
Spain
Fedellos do Couto, Ribeira Sacra
Suertes del Marques, Tenerife
Germany
Thörle, Rheinhessen
Frank John, Pfalz
Italy
COS, Sicily
Frank Cornelissen, Sicily
USA
Pax, California
Jaimee Motley, California
Jolie-Laide, California
Ridge, California
South Africa
Craven, Stellenbosch
Australia
Jauma, Adelaide
Xavier Goodridge, Victoria
Ochota Barrels, Adelaide
It’s sure come a long way! Even compared to just five years ago quality has gone through the roof and gotten more consistent.
Great read! I love the distinction between style and philosophy. Also appreciate seeing your list of recommendations! 🍷