Burgundy 2021: The Market

BY NEAL MARTIN | JANUARY 11, 2023

Another Burgundy report and another observation that demand for the elite wines of the Côte d’Or shows no sign of abating. Coupled with one of the smallest harvests on record, the laws of supply and demand lead to one result that will leave your bank balance distraught. People frequently ask me: How can a bottle be worth that much? The answer is that it’s not. The figure is as much an indicator of speculative resale value; after all, a £3,000 ($3,613.00) bottle of wine is a bargain if you can sell it for £4,000 ($4,817.00) the following month. Some winemakers are embarrassed by the ongoing fetishization of Burgundy. They find it vulgar. Others relish and encourage it. In some extreme instances, I wonder whether their motivation is wine or the attendant lifestyle and fame? But it’s simplistic and misleading to tar an entire region with the same brush. Even amongst the very elite, your Roumiers and Rousseaus, my quick calculation suggests that the producer is taking home 20% of market value if they’re lucky. A long-standing Burgundy-lover might label such producers as mercenary. An economist would label them charitable concerns.

It’s worth remembering that however much growers try to police distribution and flipping, it’s basically King Canute turning the tide. Bertrand de Villaine told me that within two to three days of releasing their 2018 Vosne-Romanée Petits-Monts, which was distributed directly to long-standing restaurant clientele, bottles were being offered for sale, the bottle number on the label carefully removed so that the vendor was untraceable. What can you do?

Others feel no compunction pushing ex-Domaine prices as high as possible so that merchants and consumers include them in the Côte d’Or notional “Premier League.” Leveraging tiny quantities available has never been an option in Bordeaux because production is too large, but in Burgundy, it can be a powerful tool. What Burgundy does now share with Bordeaux is price-matching, ensuring your like-for-like Premier or Grand Cru is not cheaper than those of your peers for fear of being perceived as inferior. It boils down to brand image, analogous to a crowd of people nudging each other in the same upward direction. One well-known producer explained how he had kept a particular Gevrey Premier Cru at a constant price until one of his team showed that practically everyone else was selling the same at double the price. “I had no option,” he told me. “I didn’t want to raise it. But I don’t want people to think my wine is worse when I know it isn’t.” The end result is that you have some wines whose quality might well justify higher prices and others that tag along, hubristically pegging prices way above commensurate quality because…who cares…it’s Burgundy, right…you love it.

Winemakers are deeply concerned, especially the old guard, who find the region’s deification bewildering. “Burgundy’s full of prima donnas,” one fulminated. “They act like Gods. Where will it end?” The answer is simple. It ends with blue-chip Burgundy becoming little more than a token of a fat wad of cash, too expensive to drink without guilt for all but the most affluent. “I fear my wines will be like ornaments on a mantelpiece gathering dust,” another eloquently confessed.