Do the French keep all the best wine for themselves?

“You know all the French vineyards only send the bottles that are corked to England”.

“Now, of course, the French keep all the best wine for themselves” - it’s a truism long spouted by pub bores and people with a second home in the Dordogne. But it’s one that never seems to die out. My father-in-law sent me a clip of a comedienne called Tatty McLeod on The Moon under Water podcast where she talks about overhearing a French wine expert telling a group: “if there was a bad season or a bad wine it was specifically marketed for England or the United States.” In Edward Chisholm’s A Waiter in Paris, one of his colleagues says: “You know all the French vineyards only send the bottles that are corked to England”. 

“Did you know that the French keep all the best wine to themselves?”

It’s a commonly-held belief but is there any truth to it? Anyone who has ever visited a Carrefour will know that the French keep plenty of terrible wine back for themselves. It doesn’t all go to England. It also assumes that British wine buyers, for example all the buyers at Waitrose are Masters of Wine meaning that they have passed an incredibly rigorous examination which involves identifying and assessing wines blind, are somehow either easy to fool with substandard wine or cheerfully selling wine that they know to be rubbish. Furthermore the entire British wine press, many of whom speak French and visit France often, either haven’t noticed or are somehow complicit. Again, it’s possible but somewhat unlikely.

Traditionally rather than keep their best wine for themselves, the French made specifically high quality wine for the lucrative English market. Arnaud de Pontac was the pioneer here with Château Haut-Brion in the 17th century. Until very recently, the French didn’t really drink Bordeaux, it all went to Britain and America. Bordeaux as a wine region was developed with the help of British and Irish merchants. Without London, Dublin and Leith, Bordeaux would not be the wine powerhouse it is today.

There’s no doubt, however, that much French wine sold in England was not exactly what it said it was. In the 18th and 19th century your claret might be souped up with Hermitage, Port or brandy by merchants in Bordeaux. Or it might not contain any wine at all. Joseph Addison wrote in Tatler of the “fraternity of chymical (sic) operators… who squeeze Bourdeaux (sic) out of a sloe and draw Champagne from an apple.” Before chateau bottling became widespread in the 20th century, you’d really have to trust your wine merchant. Much Burgundy sold in Britain until the 1970s was blended with Algerian or southern French wine and whimsically labelled ‘Beaune’ or ‘Nuits-Saint-Georges’ depending on demand. This practice only died out when domaine bottling became more common in the 1980s.

But what about today? Do the French keep all the best wine to themselves? Andrew Jefford, an English wine writer based in France, argued provocatively: “Most French know nothing at all about wine, other than that their local wine is safest and best.  Plenty of them hardly drink at all.  Of those that do drink, at least half prefer Kronenbourg, Desperados or Ricard.  So ... maybe not.” Though he did continue to say that when the French did take an interest, they tended to know their stuff. 

As you might expect Jason Yapp whose father Robin Yapp began importing some of France’s finest wines in the 1960s, was firmly against the idea, though thought it might apply to Italy. “I simply don’t think it is true”, he told me, 

“They [the French] have a long and proud history of exporting many of their best wines. Particularly, Bordeaux, particularly to the UK. For the size of our population, we get generous allocations of most of the best wines. DRC is probably the most famous and expensive sought after example but top estates throughout Burgundy, Bordeaux, Alsace the Loire, Languedoc and Provence are all really well represented here. We have been importing wines from Chave, Château Grillet, Domaine Georges Vernay, Trévallon, Domaine de la Grange des Pères etc, for decades. If anything, I think we do pretty well. I’ve witnessed more impressive cellars and wine collections here than I ever have abroad.”

Anthony Lynch, whose father Kermit Lynch has a similar position in America as the Robin Yapp, came up with a possible explanation as to why some of France’s best wines might not make it overseas: 

“Perhaps the French feel protective, and prideful (sometimes excessively so), of their great vinous traditions, and are wary of sharing them with others who might not know how to appreciate them. It reminds me of my dad's struggles to convince François Raveneau to sell him some of his Chablis back in the late '70s. He asked multiple times just to be turned down, and it was only when he returned with another Burgundy producer whose wines he had already begun importing, Hubert de Montille, that François finally conceded. So it seems to have been something of a trust issue.”

Master of Wine and rosé expert Elizabeth Gabay who is based in the South of France had a different perspective: “I often note when writing for British press, the wine imported is either the cheapest or least interesting of a range. I have also noticed that there are a large number of independant cavistes / wine bars in France that have a splendid range of small volume excellent wines - maybe from estates too small to exhibit at international trade fairs.” So it seems like we are missing out on some great producers.

Matt Walls author of The Wines of the Rhone, rather ruined the premise, when I put the question to him: “I must admit nobody has ever said that to me - at least not about the French. But I've heard this a lot about the Swiss, and there is some truth in that. The French make oceans of wine, but the Swiss relatively little. And much of it really is incredibly good. And what's the point in filling out reams of excruciating export documentation when you can just sell it from your winery door?” 

This is the case for any small producer looking to export. Britain’s increasingly complicated duty system and bureaucracy means that exporting to these islands isn’t as easy as it was before Brexit. I heard that if Scotland goes through with its disastrous deposit return scheme, which has been shelved for the time being, it won’t be worthwhile for many importers or producers to jump through all the hoops required for such a small market. Even some smaller English or Welsh brands might not ‘export’ to Scotland if the scheme goes ahead. 

Jerome Moisan, an eccentric Frenchman who lives near me and collects English, yes English, wine, said: “I would tweak it ever so slightly to say that ‘the French keep the best value wine for themselves’ - and out of necessity rather than design.” His argument, which is echoed by Bordeaux expert Jane Anson, is that the French cannot afford their best wines, the top Burgundies and clarets: “Sadly they often sell it to the highest bidder, which is invariably not in France!” she said. Traditionally these top wines would have gone to England but now go to China, Japan and the US.

Basile Guibert from Mas de Daumas agreed: “I think British people would have better sourcing regarding world wines, Bordeaux and Burgundy, whereas French would have better access to those little unknown ‘family estate’. Adding to that that, and not being funny, I think the rules for wine importation are the biggest obstacle to any consumer to get quality wines.” Amen to that! The French, according to Moisan, tend to drink the cheaper stuff which by the time it comes over to Britain, isn’t cheap at all: “As a Frenchman living here, I've long refused to buy French wine in England - it breaks my heart to pay double what it should be. That's how I see it - the best value stuff probably stays in France but not because we're greedy grenouilles.”

So in conclusion, do the French keep all the best wine for themselves and only sell the rubbish to les Anglo Saxons? Not all the best. But there are a lot of interesting wines that don't make it over here and sadly the cheap wines in France are not cheap at all by the time they get across La Manche. As Basile Guibert said: “Blame it on your government!”