Most U.S. wine drinkers prefer their red wines to be kind of soft, slightly sweet, or at least not particularly tart. I really dislike this kind of wine—if I’m having it with food.
I grew up with wine at a time when dry red wine was truly dry. But in the era of sweetened coffee drinks, cola, hard ciders, beers made with fruit essences, and all manner of sweet things, wine has had to comply.
Starting in the late 1990s, most California red wines have gotten richer, softer, and fleshier. This includes such wines as pinot noir, a grape that once regularly produced a lighter-styled red wine.
Today, many pinot noirs are routinely above 14 percent alcohol. Some are so dark and brooding, they have bodies round enough to elicit thoughts more of a Goya painting than of a Modigliani.
The big-red trend has also affected most other grape varieties made in California. Have you taken a look at the alcohol statement on a bottle of zinfandel lately? Most of them are around 15 percent or even 16 percent.
Yet there is a sub-rosa countertrend afoot around the country, fueled mainly by younger consumers. It is the interest in lighter reds. This quiet movement away from oomph and toward delicacy has meant a rebirth of interest in some previously fascinating wines that have always been aimed at the dinner table rather than at the tasting bar.
As a result, a number of French and Italian wines that have always been in the background are a lot more visible today, much of it pushed by today’s energetic sommeliers who sense a growing unease with pricey, ultrarich, food-unfriendly cabernets, zins, and syrahs.
I saw this play out when I attended a tasting of Loire Valley red wines, most of which never were aged in small barrels. Most of the wines were crisp and aimed at the dinner table. Indeed, the wines weren’t particularly fun to consume without food.
Almost all the wines had alcohol levels about 12.5 percent to 13 percent, and every wine tasted far better once some food was brought out. Included were several wines from France’s verdant Loire Valley.
Most of the wines were made from pinot noir, cabernet franc, and gamay. They were all lovely, attractive food wines that sell for reasonable prices—roughly $20 to $23.
One reason that these wines are usually priced as low as they are is that the average American consumer simply has never heard of their districts. The regions they come from are not exactly household names.
For example, a district called Menetou-Salon makes dry sauvignon blancs and delicate red wines, most of them from pinot noir. Often, these reds have a trace of black pepper and thyme.
The district called Touraine (too-rain) makes dry red wines that are mostly composed of gamay, a lighter version that’s excellent with lighter, neat dishes.
Also, look for wines from Chinon (pronounced shee-nohn). It typically makes slightly rustic, earthy cabernet francs with dried herbs and cherries. The same grape may be found in wines designated Saumur-Champigny (sau-muhr sham-peen-yee).
With prices for cabernet sauvignon now significantly higher than they were before COVID-19 hit, anyone seeking a weekday red wine that has fascinating character and works nicely with food would do well to look to the wines of the Loire Valley.
