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I recently took part in the Working With Wine fellowhip, offered by Negociants, one of Australia's oldest and most prestigious wine importers and distributors. The final assessment was an essay, for which I chose the topic, Comparisons between Barolo and Burgundy have become commonplace. Are they reasonable or simply lazy?
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Overlooking Barolo’s broad, rolling vineyards on a trip to Piedmont last year — apart from feeling like a young W.B. Yeats, absorbing inspiration from the heavenly hills — I was struck by the sheer variation of the landscape. Nebbiolo vines as far as the eye could see, made me wonder why the region is so often spoken of in the same breath as Burgundy, where I had driven the length of the region along a single road, keeping the entire continuum of vineyards on my left. Both regions are considered home to the greatest wines of their varieties, both command high prices and both have geological significance. Are these practical factors the only things connecting the two regions, or is there something inherent in the wines themselves, a characteristic that unites them?

Distilling this idea by focusing on red wine, Pinot Noir and Nebbiolo, comparisons in the glass are many. There is an ethereal lightness to both Burgundy and Barolo, often offset by an assertive structure which, in the best examples can carry tannin and acid in abundance. Fruit character for both falls heavily on red fruits and spice and, while Barolo tends to be characterised by floral aromatics and a powerful tannic structure, there are enough similarities to argue that comparisons are inevitable.

Describing great wine experiences is like trying to put love into words, it always seems to fall short. There are, however, two examples that live brightly in my memory. Visiting Burgundy in 2017 with lauded importer, David Burkitt, we met with Sébastien Cathiard at his father, Sylvain’s cellar and tasted the 2016 Vintages from barrel. Amongst them, there was a Grand Cru Romanée Saint Vivant that completely captured me. How such elegance and intensity could live in such harmony was a revelation of epic proportions. The second was a more recent trip to Barolo, on holiday with my long, cellar-door-suffering wife, we lobbed in to a local wine bar in Monforte D’Alba, inauspiciously named ‘Vinoland’ and ordered the Barolo tasting flight. A wine among these was simply head and shoulders above the rest; Giacomo Fennochio’s 2019 Barolo Bussia. Layers of floral character, underpinned by juicy generosity, riding that all-important wave of tannin, in this case so fine as to knit perfectly into the mouthful of red cherries. Truly a singular experience. So, while it is tempting to say that Barolo, at its best, can’t reach the dizzying heights of Burgundy, some experiences may suggest otherwise.

So perhaps I was missing the point when scanning the vineyards of Barolo, thinking how different from Burgundy they are. Perhaps this is actually all about terroir. Literally meaning ‘territory’ but encompassing all of a vineyard’s environmental influences, terroir speaks of the suitability of a place to a variety's ultimate expression. In Burgundy, there is a pyramid of vineyard classification, starting with ‘Bourgogne’, then Village wines (eg Vosne-Romanée), Premier Cru and Grand Cru at the top. Barolo, with only two tiers, Barolo and Barolo Riserva, may have begun a move towards a cru-style system, too. Producers are declaring ‘communes’ such as La Morra or Monforte and, beyond that, equivalents to Grand Crus are emerging, known as MGAs (Menzione Geografica Aggiuntiva) identifying the best sub-regions, famous examples being Cannubi and Bussia.

This all points to the idea that these wines are as good as they are, because they are growing in the right place and that some sub-regions and, indeed vineyards, are the best of the best.

The question of price then inevitably arrives. Obviously, the best of anything commands the highest price (you want front row seats to Taylor Swift? You better save your pennies) but the trajectory of price for both wine categories has seen significant increase over recent decades. Burgundy prices outstripping any other category worldwide, as a result of strong interest from international investors. The wine considered to be the top example of the region, Domaine de la Romanée Conti’s Romanée Conti would set you back in excess of AUD$30,000, if you could find one. A rung down the Grand Cru ladder, a Mazis Chambertin from a more mainstream producer like Domaine Faiveley could be acquired for mere $500.

By contrast, Barolo appears to offer veritable value for money, with a top example from a top producer like Giacomo Conterno’s Monfortino Barolo Riserva, asking upwards of $2,500. So there is a chasm between the prices of the most sought-after examples of each style and, even discounting these and looking at average pricing for the rest of the wines on the market, Burgundy prices tend to outstrip Barolo. This fact has, in some ways, caused me to take refuge in Barolo, when dejected by the inaccessibility of Burgundy.

I don’t believe comparisons between Barolo and Burgundy are lazy. The two regions may be wildly different places to observe but they are equally perfect homes for their viney inhabitants. Burgundy may be commanding distorted prices but Barolo, too is in the upper echelon. There may be differences in the glass but there is certainly a light-footed magic expressed by each, which can be hard to express in words. All I know is that the emotion each of these wines has given me is, like love, hard to describe. Perhaps W. B. Yeats put it best, when he wrote that “Wine comes in at the mouth and love comes in at the eye; that’s all we shall know for truth before we grow old and die”.