By ELEANOR BLACK
It should not surprise the French that we prefer the taste of plums and figs to dirt and mould.
But their winemakers, Gallic noses well out of joint and pointing straight to the sky, claim to be abandoning their treasured traditions to compete with our exports to Britain.
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French say they are "dumbing down" their wines in an attempt to win back market share because on the other side of the English Channel soft and fruity Australian and New Zealand varieties are flying off shelves.
The Herald asked three knowledgeable wine buffs to rate four wines from New Zealand and France.
The local ones, with their complex, clean and fruity flavours, won the day.
The French wine was compared to medicine, soil and that stuff left on the bottom of your shoes after walking through a farmyard.
But the experts agreed that the finest French wine, which can cost four to five times as much as those they sampled yesterday, would stand up favourably against anything produced in New Zealand.
Vinival Chardonnay ($12), a French table wine meant to be matched with chicken (and decorated with little white poulets in case you miss the point), was panned as bland and lacking the fruity flavour you would expect from a chardonnay.
Graeme Fairey, a silver medal-winning sommelier (wine waiter), said it was overly acidic and left his mouth feeling as if he had sucked a lemon.
In contrast, the Montana 2000 Gisborne Chardonnay ($13) was described as rich, with a fruity aroma and lots of flavour.
Mike Barnett, who trained at the International Wine Academy in California, could imagine matching it with oysters, scallops or salmon.
He said the wine's complexity meant it would have to be paired more thoughtfully than the French white, which would go with virtually anything - even bread and butter.
The Chateau Tanesse 1995 Bordeaux ($20) was rejected as muddy tasting with a dirty smell that prevented the panel from even wanting to sip it.
David Brown, a former associate wine judge, said it produced "a good amount of barnyard stink" and thought it would be difficult to match with any food except mushrooms.
But he admired the 1999 Te Mata Estate Cabernet/Merlot from Hawkes Bay ($22) for its balance of sweet and sour. He could imagine enjoying a glass while tucking into a rare steak.
The panel said New Zealand winemakers took advantage of modern technology, while in France, winemakers tended to cling to the methods used for generations.
Here, wine is stored in stainless steel vats. In France, it sometimes sits in old wooden tubs lined with mould. While New Zealanders and Britons find the almost-rotten flavour unappealing, the French love its earthy character.
Mr Brown said people have a "country palate" and tend to favour the taste of the wine they usually drink. Americans prefer an oilier sauvignon blanc than the crisp variety produced here. Australians like bold, jammy reds and the French are keen on the more astringent, murky Bordeaux flavour.
French wine importer Jean-Christophe Poizat said the philosophies behind winemaking in New Zealand and France were vastly different.
French wines had terroir, a personality resulting from the combination of soil, climate and exposure. While New Zealand produced some great wines, it did not yet produce fine wines, the rare finds that were as unforgettable as your first love.
The consumer had to be choosy and look for boutique wines to experience the best of French wine, he said.
"[A fine wine] will take you somewhere that nothing else will. When you strike it, it will always stay in your mind."
By ELEANOR BLACK
It should not surprise the French that we prefer the taste of plums and figs to dirt and mould.
But their winemakers, Gallic noses well out of joint and pointing straight to the sky, claim to be abandoning their treasured traditions to compete with our exports to Britain.
The
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