Close to the Edge: Chablis 2018 & 2019 

BY NEAL MARTIN | SEPTEMBER 24, 2020 

“The wines of Chablis must not in any way be confused with the White Wines of the Côte d’Or, Mâconnais etc...they are totally different, in a class by themselves.” – In Search of Wine, Charles W. Berry, 1935 (p.46) 

Chablis is white Burgundy without the frills, an oasis of vines inhabiting Kimmeridgian limestone surrounded by miles of unspoiled nothingness. The region has always self-isolated from the vast Burgundy hinterland despite commonality in terms of grape variety. Chablis feels comfortable and, dare I say, even grateful for existing as a separate entity; ergo it tends to march to its own tune. Things move more slowly than in the Côte d’Or. Quaintly bucolic and refreshingly simpler by comparison, it has (one or two domaines aside) resisted escalating prices that alienate consumers and disenfranchise a younger generation of fledgling oenophiles. This should not imply that Chablis is also immune to change; producers are innovating while new domaines sprout across a once corporate-dominated landscape. 

Living up to its name, the river that runs through Chablis.

Moored at the northern extremity of Burgundy, over an hour’s drive from Beaune, Chablis occupies a liminal latitude where winemaking can exist and thrive as a large-scale monoculture of potentially world-class wines. It is a precarious climatic edge of a cliff, as any embattled winemaker who has suffered late spring frosts, hail or inclement summers and harvests will relate with anguish. Despite this constant threat from the malevolent caprice of Mother Nature, Chablis winemakers always seem...happy.

A lot of water had flowed under the bridge since I was in Chablis two years previously, and I eagerly anticipated a return before the pandemic tore up my carefully laid plans. The organizational body, the BIVB, stepped in and did a sterling job of rounding up over 400 samples and dispatching them to my tasting room, only a case from Servin going AWOL and kindly replaced by the domaine. Unsurprisingly, this shipment did not include a handful of high-profile names. The gaps nagged away, veiling the report with incompleteness, like a film missing a crucial scene. As the pandemic receded in late July, I made an impromptu, brief visit in order to fill these omissions and also test the logistics for future trips en voiture. (You can read all about that in my recent “Beyond Wine” piece.) Visiting the region not only resulted in a more comprehensive report, but also rekindled a personal connection between taster and region. I relished breathing the same air as the vines, discussing the vintages tête-à-tête with winemakers and, new for 2020, jogging through the Grand Crus each morning. It just felt good. It made me...happy.

My first tasting post-lockdown was with Isabelle Raveneau, here looking on imperiously armed with pipette and stemware.