The Judgement of Paris 47 years on
With a new book out on Californian wine, it's time to look at the long term significance of the probably the most famous event in wine since the wedding at Cana.
Next week on the 24th May it’s the 47th anniversary of one of the biggest events in wine, one of the few times that a wine tasting has made headlines across the world. It is of course the Judgement of Paris. For those who don’t know this was a tasting in 1976 organised by the late Steven Spurrier where he lined up a panel of French judges to taste blind a flight of top reds from Bordeaux and whites from Burgundy against their equivalents from California. And the Yanks only went and bloody won in both categories with Château Montelena Chardonnay and Stag’s Leap Cabernet beating Burgundy and Bordeaux separately.
The event was immortalised in an article for Time magazine and later a book by the only journalist present, George Tabor. The event was also made into a bizarre film called Bottle Shock in 2008 with Alan Rickman chewing the scenery as only he knows how as Spurrier. The contrast with Bill Pullman playing Jim Barrett from Château Montelena absolutely straight makes it appear that you’re watching two different films at once. Actually make that three, because Barrett’s son is a surfer dude who seems to have walked in out of Point Break.
Even Bottle Shock couldn’t completely ruin the story because it taps into two profound desires, at least for its British and American viewers: it makes both the French and wine snobs look stupid. Since then the event has inspired legions of other ‘judgements’ like the Judgement of Parsons Green, Judgement of Tooting Bec, Judgement of Market Snodsbury etc.
Now there’s a new book called the Rise of the Napa Valley Wineries: How the Judgment of Paris Put California Wine on the Map by Mark Gudgel which provides some deep context to the earth-shattering events of 1976. It even comes with a quote from Bella Spurrier, Steven’s widow. Gudgel goes back, way back, to pre-colonial times when the natives Wappo tribes of what would become Northern California apparently lived a “peaceful and unadulterated existence.” It’s probably a bit more context than I need but the story of pioneers of Napa, men like George Yount, who would give his name to Yountville, Agoston Haraszthy, who probably introduced the zinfandel grape from the Balkans, and André Tchelistcheff, who fled Revolutionary Russia and helped the industry recover from Prohibition, is brilliantly told.
Gudgel also has a very winning obsession with the facial hair. For example: “[Robert Louis Stevenson] wore his jawline clean-shaven so as to leave his cheekbones visible, revealing a rogueish smile. What his jaw lacked in hair, his upper lip made up for, and the thickly mustachioed young man bore some resemblances to his gunslinger contemporary Wild Bill Hickok.” or “Gutave Niebaum’s beard would have given that of Karl Marx a run for its money.” Then there’s another 19th century pioneer called Tiburcio Parrot who “had his coachman blow a French horn as he rode through St. Helena on his way to the brothel.” Total lad.
Gudgel’s book provides the backstory to the Judgement of Paris tasting itself which despite having read about it dozens of times and suffered through Bottle Shock still give me a thrill. It started off as a bit of fun, the French judges led by Odette Kahn editor of La Revue du vin de France didn’t expect the foreign wines to get anywhere. And then the results of the first round were announced and Château Montelena Chardonnay won. So for the second round the judges knew that a French wine had to win so they went for elegance over power. Unfortunately that meant another Californian wine, a Stag’s Leap Cabernet Sauvignon, won. Kahn was furious and apparently never spoke to Spurrier again.
Californian wine had arrived on the world stage. As George Taber wrote: “Overnight it changed the reputation of California wines.” Americans who had preciously only drunk French began drinking domestic. If you’d been there in 1976, and read all the press, you might think that the world had been turned upside down. New World usurping Old World in wine but in fact things haven’t quite turned out like that.
While nobody would disparage Californian wines again, the world didn’t fall in love with them. 47 years later outside of America, wine from California are a minority interest mainly because they are so expensive. For most drinkers in the UK, California is about as relevant as Switzerland. Instead it was Australia, New Zealand, Argentina, Chile and to a lesser extent South Africa which would benefit most from the opening up of the global wine market. This was followed by Eastern Europe with countries like Greece, Croatia and Hungary now no longer seen as purveyors of plonk.
Meanwhile, Bordeaux bounced back spectacularly from the defeat of 1976. The region was suffering from a run of terrible vintages in the 1970s but the 1980s were a whole different story with great vintages like 1982, 1986, 1988, and 1989. Châteaux that had previously been on the brink financially saw prices of their wines take off. And what drove this boom? Interest from American drinkers led by one outspoken critic Robert Parker. Throughout the ‘80, ‘90s’, ‘00s, France and Bordeaux especially cemented its place as the fine wine capital of the world.
Today, you take a look at the most-traded wines by value on Liv-Ex, a wine brokerage site, there is only one American, Screaming Eagle. There’s a lone Tuscan and then everything else is French with champagne at the top. By volume there are no Americans at all, but there are five champagnes and three Tuscans. The French have a saying ‘un train peut en cacher un autre’ - from the signs at level crossings. In all the brouhaha about Californians unseating the French, the real story is about the arrival of Italy at the top of the fine wine tree. Bordeaux is not longer so dominant but it’s other French regions and Italians that have benefitted the most.
So what does the Judgement of Paris tell us about wine? Very little really. California would have become accepted though probably much slower and the wine world would have carried on much as did. But as a human story, a story of folly and hubris, David vs Goliath, it remains as compelling as ever. And if you want to know more about it, Gudgel’s book is a great place to start especially if you have a thing about beards.