The Judgement of Paris 50 years on

What was the significance of probably the most famous event in wine since the wedding at Cana?

On Sunday 24th May, it’s the 50th 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.

Alan Rickman eyeing up a bit of scenery to chew.

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.

If you want some context to to the earth-shattering events of 1976, I recommend reading Steven Spurrier’s autobiography A Life in Wine and the Rise of the Napa Valley Wineries: How the Judgment of Paris Put California Wine on the Map by Mark Gudgel. The latter 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 “Gustave 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 gives me a thrill. I wrote about the event in the Critic recently:

Originally there was to be no judging element involved but according to his memoir, A Life in Wine, Spurrier worried that “the tasters’ innate Frenchness might result in their being ‘damned with faint praise.’” In other words, they would react to the California wines like typical French wine snobs. “With just a week to go, I made the decision to turn it into a ‘blind’” he wrote. The judges would taste the wines without being aware of their provenance, issue each with a score out of 20 and to spice things up he threw in some of the best of Bordeaux, including first growths Mouton Rothschild and Haut-Brion, and Burgundy, like the Puligny-Montrachet from Domaine Leflaive, to face off against their Californian opponents.

Round one was Burgundy versus California Chardonnay. Taber explained what happened next in his article titled, naturally, ‘The Judgement of Paris’: “the judges were becoming totally confused as they tasted the white wines. The panel couldn’t tell the difference between the French ones and those from California… “ One of the judges, Claude Dubois-Millot from the Gault Millau guide, admitted: “We thought we were recognising French wines when they were Californian and vice versa.” After the judges had submitted their scores, Spurrier announced the results of the first round. The winner was Chateau Montelena Chardonnay 1973 from California. Not only that but, he wrote: “Every single judge rated a California wine first.” Absolute scenes.

When it was time for the claret versus Californian Cabernet round, the eleven judges were determined to maintain the honour of France. Taber noted that they were much more accurate in their discussions and marked down severely the wines they thought were Californian. It almost worked. Of the top four wines, three were French but the one with the highest overall score was Stag’s Leap Cabernet 1973 beating Mouton-Rothschild 1970 by one and a half points. Taber writes that the judges’ reactions “ranged from shock to horror.” Spurrier then had to face the wrath of Kahn who demanded her scorecard back before leaving. She later declared: “it was a false test because California wines are trying to become too much like French wines.”

California 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. 50 years later outside of America, wine from California are a minority interest mainly because they are so expensive¹. For most drinkers in Britain, California is about as relevant as Switzerland. American wine is on those things like American sport or American cars that doesn’t travel. 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. One of the judges, Aubert de Villaine from Domaine Romanée Conti described it as ‘un coup dans la derrière pour les vins Français.’ 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.

Take a look at the recent Power 100 Report 2025 Liv-Ex, a wine brokerage site, there is only one American, Opus One - tellingly perhaps, a Franco-Californian collaboration. There’s a lone Tuscan and then everything else is French with Cheval Blanc at the top. 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 no 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 and other new world wines would have become accepted eventually. Bordeaux would have bounced back anyway. I think the wine world would look much as it does today if it had never taken place. But as a human tale, a story of folly and hubris, David vs Goliath, it remains as compelling as ever.

1. An American called Paul Wagner explained this very well:

“The reason US wines are not of much interest to consumers outside of the USA has more to do with business models that wine quality. US wineries can and do sell all of their wine to the largest wine market in the world, and a prices that generate profit. (At least until recently!). These wineries were never developed to compete on the world market because they don't have to.”