Jules Polonetsky
Before I started learning about wine seriously, I was curious but confused. Wine labels seemed to conceal more than they revealed. I assumed Bordeaux and Chianti were types of grapes. I thought screw caps signaled cheap wine. I imagined grapes thrived best in sunny, fertile places. Reviews spoke of “forest floor,” “petrol,” and “pencil shavings” — terms that sounded more like dares than descriptions. It took years of reading and tasting to correct the neglect.
This column is for anyone who stands where I once stood. The harvest season seems like a good time to review a few clear principles that can reset the framework and help explain the mystery behind the labels.
The first principle is counterintuitive. Grapevines make their best fruit when they struggle. Vines pampered by fertile soil, water and constant sun produce table grapes for eating, and grapes that are sweet, plump and bland in flavor concentration. Great wine grapes come from vines under stress. When roots dig deep through gravel, clay, or limestone, seeking water and nutrients, the fruit becomes smaller, more complex and more intense. Poor soil, rocky hillsides, limited irrigation and measured exposure to sun all induce stress. That stress, managed well, builds depth.
Some of the finest vineyards in the world are deliberately deprived. In parts of France, growers are legally forbidden to irrigate except through rainfall, forcing roots to adapt to local geology. The precise combination of soil, climate, altitude, sunlight and even wind produces what the French call terroir or the unique fingerprint of place. Terroir is not marketing poetry. It’s the sum of measurable conditions that shape flavor, structure and longevity. Two vineyards a few hundred meters apart can yield profoundly different wines, even from the same grape, simply because of differences in drainage or microclimate.
Viticulture — the art of growing grapes — matters as much as terroir. Vineyard crews prune to control leaf growth and sun exposure. They decide how many buds remain on each vine, balancing yield against intensity. The choice between vertical trellises and low bush vines determines airflow and ripening speed. Harvest timing requires a nearly mathematical balance of sugar, acid, and ripeness, all adjusted for the year’s sunlight and rainfall.
Once harvested, winemaking becomes an exercise in intention. For white wines, skins are separated early to retain freshness and avoid tannin. For reds, the skins are left in contact with the juice to extract color, tannin and complexity. The length of maceration, the time the skins soak, defines style. Oak aging adds another variable: New barrels contribute spice, toast and structure; old barrels merely breathe and soften. Each decision creates a distinct outcome.
Now that these building blocks are in place, let’s examine two benchmarks of red wine: Bordeaux and Napa. With apologies to Israeli winemakers who are increasingly creating top-notch wines, these two regions continue to dominate when it comes to the best Cabernet and Merlot.
Bordeaux: Discipline and Restraint
Bordeaux sits near the Atlantic coast of southwestern France, a region of mild climate, frequent rain and cool nights. The landscape is divided by the Gironde estuary, splitting the Left Bank — dominated by Cabernet Sauvignon — from the Right Bank, where Merlot and Cabernet Franc prevail. The gravel soils of the Left Bank, particularly in areas like Pauillac and Margaux, drain well and force vines to dig deep, ideal for Cabernet’s thick skins and high tannins. The clay and limestone of the Right Bank, in appellations like Pomerol and Saint-Émilion, are cooler and wetter, nurturing softer, rounder Merlot.
Traditional Bordeaux blends both grapes, balancing Cabernet’s austerity and structure with Merlot’s plushness. The wines are designed for evolution, firm when young, developing subtlety with age. Aromas lean toward graphite, black currant, cedar and tobacco. Oak is used sparingly to support, not dominate. Weather variations make a huge difference, and thus experts will tell you which vintages are to be desired, and which are second class. So, no, Bordeaux is not a grape; it is a region of France, famed for Cabernet-Merlot blends.
Napa, by contrast, offers near-perfect growing conditions with warm days, dry summers and cool Pacific nights drifting through the bay. The soil varies widely, from volcanic slopes to alluvial valley floors, but the overall effect is generosity: plenty of sunlight, little rain and predictable harvests. Where Bordeaux’s growers must adapt to uncertain weather, Napa’s winemakers can fine-tune ripeness.
Cabernet Sauvignon dominates Napa’s identity. Its grapes achieve full maturity, yielding wines with deep color, ripe tannins and opulent fruit. Black cherry, cassis, mocha and vanilla are hallmarks. Oak aging is more assertive, emphasizing texture and richness. Merlot here is less of a blending partner and often is a single varietal that is lush, fruit-forward and immediately approachable. The best examples from cooler subregions like Carneros or Coombsville retain freshness and balance, but the valley’s reputation rests on abundance rather than restraint.
Bordeaux wines are considered more elegant, with wines that are more restrained and nuanced, while Napa builds around ripeness and accessibility. Bordeaux is considered “old world,” and Napa is “new world,” terms you will often hear as a framing for Cabernet or Merlot from other regions. Israeli winemakers are known for emulating the new world, big robust wines of California, pleasing the public but disappointing the connoisseurs who value the Bordeaux tradition.
Next time you shop for wine, note the region, read the back label and do a little research to learn about the terroir in that area and the techniques used by the winemaker. As you know more about the wine in your glass, your palate will start to recognize the subtle differences due to terroir, wine-making styles and even vintages.
L’Chaim!
Jules Polonetsky is a Wine and Spirits Education Trust Level 3 Certified wine expert who writes for the Wine and Whiskey Globe when not occupied with his day job as CEO of a tech policy think tank. He is a former consumer affairs commissioner of the city of New York.
