Beyond Sauvignon Blanc—Painless Palate Expansion

Let’s face it, it’s easy to get into a rut, be it professionally, socially or really in any aspect of life. The same is no less true—if decidedly less important—of our wine choices. When we find something we like, we tend to return to it over and over. There’s something to be said for loyalty but at the same time, familiarity often ends up breeding contempt. We just unthinkingly default to that same wine and stick with it out of habit. This will be the first in a series of posts that will hopefully nudge you to try an alternative to some of the wines that consumers look to first and then time after time.

While chardonnay may be the world’s most commercially important white grape, Sauvignon Blanc is the white wine I hear consumers claim as their own most often. Before delving a bit into a couple of SB’s most prevalent styles, for those who may not be aware, all wines are not necessarily named for the grape(s) they are made with.

Outside of the Old World—which essentially means anywhere other than Europe—they usually are named for the grape, i.e., chardonnay, pinot noir, etc. But in the Old World, with some exceptions, they are usually named after the place they are from. Sancerre in France’s Loire Valley is made with sauvignon blanc grapes, for example.

That digression is important because Sancerre is one of SB’s prevailing and highly popular styles. New Zealand SB is the other, with Sauvignon Blancs from elsewhere in the world showing some characteristics that lean toward one of these styles or the other.

Although I think that the Kiwi version is really an animal all its own in its pungency that is practically shrillness in a glass. I admit it’s not my cup of tea but I certainly get why many, many others adore it. Sancerre can be citrusy, grassy but not really herbal, always clean with vibrant freshness. SB’s from coolish climates like Northeast Italy and Chile will be similar, maybe a bit less green. Those from warmer parts like California will not be dissimilar but may have a bit more body because of that warmth. NZ SBs are intensely green to me, almost bell peppery, with very vibrant fruit notes.

What follows are a few suggestions that touch on each of these styles. While none of them are replicas of the Sauvignon style you prefer, they do share attributes that hopefully will allow you to venture out of your comfort zone knowing that the trip won’t be uncomfortable at all. Like most SB’s outside of California and several other places, these wines don’t see oak, which is no doubt one of the reasons many like Sauvignon in the first place.

Muscadet (moose-ka-day) is currently my favorite inexpensive white. While you can certainly spend north of $25 for a bottle, there are plenty of fine examples for less than $20. You can also find some that lurk around the $10-$12 range. While often thought of as a grape variety, Muscadet, the wine, is made with a grape called melon de Bourgogne.

I suspect that Burgundians are not proud of being associated with it because historically, its highest, best use was as a distillate in the Low Countries. It is cold and damp resistant which explains why it punches above its weight in the Western Loire Valley. Its profile is clean, crisp, a bit of lemon and a minerally stoniness.

It resembles cool climate SBs but doesn’t possess Sancerre’s nuance—or price. I’d wager that there simply is no better match for oysters and clams on the half shell. But there is Muscadet and there is Muscadet. Make sure that the label sports the words “Sèvre et Maine,” which connotes that the wine is from that prime vineyard area located between the Sèvre and Maine rivers. While Muscadet from elsewhere within the region can be fine, it’s safer just to stick to Muscadet’s heartland.

Another relatively inexpensive white that is in this same citric, austere style is Verdicchio (vear-deek-ee-oo) from the region of Le Marche in East Central Italy. Because the prime verdicchio vineyards are not far from the Adriatic Sea, the grapes tend to retain acidity which translates to fresh, vibrant wines.

The two main appellations are Castelli de Jesi (my preferred) and Matelica; look for either on labels. As with Muscadet, you can spend more than $25 but you also don’t have to. Verdicchio is subtly perfumed so is not nearly as assertive as Sauvignon but it shouldn’t be dismissed because of this. For me, this isn’t a shortcoming. Rather, it makes Verdicchio an excellent food partner—it will never overwhelm anything on a plate.

Staying in Italy, kerner, a grape that is primarily found in the Trentino-Alto Adige region in the Northeast, more closely resembles SB than any of the others I am suggesting. That is, it is floral, lemony fresh and minerally. It might be said that Kerners act a bit less flamboyantly than SBs so don’t expect as much expressiveness. It is, like Verdicchio and Muscadet, an excellent food wine. If you come across a bottle, you’ll note that it likely will be tall and skinny. This owes to the region’s Germanic heritage—it was last part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the conclusion of World War I, and is semi-autonomous with Italian and German being the official languages. Pricing is not dissimilar from those above although you’re likely to spend a few dollars more on average because the imported production isn’t significant.

Assyrtiko (ah-sear-tee-ko) from the Greek island of Santorini is my final SB alternative (though, truthfully, there are dozens of other white grapes I could suggest but every post needs to end at some point). Many believe that this Greek native variety is just about the closest thing to Sauvignon as there is out there. I’m not sure I agree. That said, it is lemony fresh, minerally, almost saline—in a very good way—but also less shrill than SB.

It is similar to Sancerre in its weight and texture, and can very much match Sancerre’s nuance in a way that the three above can’t. It is probably the priciest of the Alt Four, so you’re likely to spend just under $20 to start. Like the others, it is excellent with food but because it has more going on than the other three, you should try to match some component of the dish to its aromatic profile. Fish in a citrusy sauce, for example.

Next up will be a red, although I’m not sure which one. If you have one in mind, email or message me.