Ahead Of The Cuvée
Do you prefer your art behind walls or on them? Admittedly, it’s a loaded question. Though, often, arts’ inaccessibility is its undoing. Wine is no different. Terminology like terroirs is meaningless to many, little more than places you can’t pronounce.
As off-putting as they are, terms are just words, even if they act as walls to keep knowledge in the hands of those who already know. While wine’s accessibility issues are older than your nan’s favourite vintage, there’s a counterculture of vineyards and merchants who’ve turned two fingers to etiquette.
What’s the difference between natural, organic, and biodynamic bottles? Next to nothing, they’re essentially slang for low-intervention, meaning, don’t add sulphides and let fermentation do its thing.
Their laissez-faire approach is little more than a rehash of the principles upon which winemaking was forged. Nevertheless, the branding of natural wine is the antithesis of what you’d expect from an archaic industry.
The monotony melts my mind when I stare at supermarket wine; maybe it’s just me. Almost every bottle’s label appears template. Designs are either minimalistic or calligraphic.
Meanwhile, natural wines embrace vibrancy to separate themselves from supermarket standardisation. Chin Chin’s artwork became iconic because it’s bold. The label’s striking red and yellow shades depict a double-parked devil. It’s whimsical and joyous, just as your experience should be after sinking a bottle or two.
Acting as the antithesis, Calcarius’ austere labels and clear bottle allow their wine’s infatuating amber tones to leave you questioning how something so radiant could contain no additives. Reductionists would say it’s just juice. Forgive me for not fancying another merlot.
People who’re precious about wine often attempt to align with someone else’s ideal. Screw-top scepticism is one thing; imagine asking for a corkscrew, then using the other end to flip off a bottle cap. Admittedly, there isn’t the sonic satisfaction of the cork escaping its cage, but the soft hum of CO2 from a Pet Nat is a subtle pleasure. Less look at me, more, let’s keep this between us.
Furthermore, champagne’s sharpness could only hope to emulate how a Pet Nat’s tender fizz cushions the fall from your glass to your tongue, as if delivered to your tastebuds in bubble wrap. It’s your choice, the establishment or anarchists.
That’s not to say low-intervention winemaking is lawless. Though the lack of preservatives means each bottle is unique, there will be subtle differences even amongst the same vintages. Consider it a disregard for conformity.
Sometimes that sentiment is translated by merchants to little more than “bangin’ good piss”. It’s an amusing contradiction to tradition and intentionally aims to welcome those not in the know. In contrast to the past, everyone’s invited to enjoy a glass.