Two Questions About Chardonnay
We recently got two great questions, back to back, and they both deserve more than a quick answer in passing. So let’s dig in.
Question 1: Why do I like the 2025 Anthony Cellars Chardonnay when normally I don’t like Chardonnay at all?
For those of you just tuning in, we make a Chardonnay here. We’ve actually made a few different versions of it over the years, all sourced from the Celilo Vineyard down in the Gorge, right across the river from that wonderful little town of Hood River. If you’ve never been out there, go. I’d encourage all of you to make the trip. And no, not the Gorge with the outdoor concert venue, I mean the actual Columbia River Gorge, down in the Hood River area. It’s an awesome place.
Okay, back to the question. Why do I like this one when I generally claim to not like the grape?
Well, maybe you’ve just got really good taste. But also, wine is a matter of preference, full stop. That’s the honest answer, and I can say it with confidence.
A quick confession.
I used to brag about how much I didn’t like Chardonnay. It was practically a bit at this point. Then a cheeky fellow named Jason called me out on it.
“Yes, you do like Chardonnay,” he said.
I said, “What do you mean by that?”
He goes, “Do you like Chablis?”
I said, “Well, yeah.”
And he goes, “That’s just really good Chardonnay.”
Kind of a humbling moment, honestly. But I’ve always really enjoyed making white wine, so I decided to make a Chardonnay of my own that captured the essence of a bone-dry, crisp white wine that was unlike the rich and buttery Chardonnays I was introduced to long ago. I wanted to create a barrel-aged wine that has high acidity, light body, with a taste that is fresh and clean. Something very unexpected for Chardonnays that are aged in oak. If you want to know more about my approach, I’d encourage anyone who’s curious to let me know. Iβd love to talk it through with you.
Question 2: From a vintner’s perspective, why are oaked Chardonnays falling out of favor?
This one’s a good question, and honestly, I think it’s more of a sociological question than anything else.
Oaked Chardonnay has been falling out of favor for a little while now. It reminds me of coffee back in the 70s. Everybody drank Sanka, freeze-dried instant coffee, and thought that was just how coffee was. Then Folgers came along, and that was considered better. Then Starbucks showed up, and everybody’s palate got more sophisticated with coffee across the board.
I think it’s the same story with wine. Everybody’s palate changes, and trends come and go.
Too much of a good thing.
I’d put the decline of oaked Chardonnay in the same category as sweet Rieslings falling out of favor, too much sugar, and people eventually moved on from it. I think it’s really just a reflection of America’s growing sophistication in the palate.
And here’s the thing about oak specifically: if there’s too much of one particular flavor, one particular spice note laid on top of a wine, it starts to detract from the variety, from the grape itself. Most people are starting to fall away from that. They want to actually taste what’s meant to be inside the wine in the first place β the grape, the varietal.
That’s really what we’re after with our Chardonnay too. Let the Celilo fruit do the talking, and keep the oak from getting in the way of it.
Cheers, and see you in the tasting room. π·