Bordeaux 2010: All That Glitters...

At the recent en primeur tastings in early April, many producers and critics were gushing with praise about the reds, calling 2010 another vintage of the century for Bordeaux, even better than 2009.  Considering that 2009 has been widely judged to be not just great, but possibly the greatest vintage of all time, that was high praise indeed for the new crop of wines.  In fact, from very early on the 2010 Bordeaux vintage was being talked up as outstanding.  Even in late summer, more than one producer I visited mentioned that 2010 was likely to be one of the best vintages ever due to the excellent growing season.  This despite the fact that in many of the vineyards I walked through last August in numerous appellations, the foliage showed a kaleidoscope of shades of yellow, a sure sign of photosynthetic blockage, usually a consequence of water stress.  Then, by December, some producers were stating flat out that the vintage was superior to 2009. 

I am not in their camp.  After spending 13 days in Bordeaux in late March and early April tasting hundreds of wines at the Primeurs (most of them at least twice), I believe that claims that 2010 is another vintage of the century are overstating the case.  Certainly, the 2010 vintage is a very good one, even excellent, and the source of some fantastic wines; in fact, a few estates have probably made their best wines ever, but they are a small minority.  In general, the 2010s are all about structure, acidity and freshness.  They are polar opposites of the 2009s, which are characterized by supple, often opulent texture and perfumed, creamy charm.  The best 2010s also show great purity and finesse, and their higher total acidities combined with firm, ripe tannins should give them superb aging potential, although this does not necessarily mean that they will outlive the 2009s.
 

In the end, 2010 produced wines more similar in structure to the 2005s and to the 1986s of the Médoc--and in complete contrast to the 2009s and 1982s.  However, I am not yet convinced that 2010 is in quite the same quality class as any of those earlier vintages.  It is safe to say that the 2010s will live and die by their tannins:  the best wines are those that haven't been overextracted and whose tannins are velvety and rich; these are far removed from the many 2010s that are marred by angular, astringent tannins.

So why the many accolades bestowed on 2010?  No doubt 2010 has benefited from the knee-jerk reflex on the part of early tasters to deem great all vintages of full-bodied, highly structured wines with apparently limitless aging potential.  For example, most people initially preferred the serious, more classic 1983s to the softer, more voluptuous 1982s.  I was also reminded of the 1975 Bordeaux, another vintage of brawny, tannic wines that was supposed to age spectacularly.  However, many 1975s have failed to live up to their billing:  they have not aged gracefully, remaining tannic and hard all their lives.  My fear is that many 2010 Bordeaux will begin to lose their fruit before their tannins resolve.

The 2010 growing season. Three main climatic factors characterize the weather in 2010:  dry conditions, low temperatures, and exceptionally sunny days.  It follows that there was virtually no disease pressure in 2010, so that is one problem producers did not have to face.  The very dry summer conditions helped concentrate the berries, while the low daytime temperatures and cool nights of August and September helped preserve acidity and enhanced the synthesis of aromatic precursors, allowing for wines of potentially great power, freshness and pure aromatics.  Berries were small, as was the number of grapes per bunch, so yields were limited, and the high skin-to-juice ratio was another factor explaining the concentration of anthocyanins (grape pigments) and tannins in the 2010s.

After the mild, rainy autumn of 2009, rainfall in November was heavy, but then the first months of 2010 were exceptionally dry, with temperatures roughly 2.1°C below the seasonal average.  This caused a late start to the growth cycle, which helped protect the vines from spring frosts (seven episodes of frost in the first two weeks of March alone, an occurrence seen only in March of 1971) but also caused the vegetative cycle to fall behind.  Ultimately, all of the major phenological steps in the life cycle of the vine (budbreak, flowering, color change and harvest) would be later than average.