Journal of Wine Economics Volume 11 | 2016 | No. 1

Throughout the wine world, Burgundy is everyone’s poster child for rational, terroir- driven site delimitation and vineyard classification: a découpage of about a hundred appellations and at least another thousand individual site names (lieux dits) arranged in a neat hierarchy of qualitative tiers. Other regions treat Burgundy as their prime example of how to do it right, idealizing the monks who are said to have paid close attention to sites and wines as early as the twelfth century, the Burgundian dukes who legally protected Pinot Noir against “lesser” grape varieties, and the consistency of “local, loyal, and long-standing practices” that survived cataclysmic regime changes to become embedded in controlled appellation law when it was promulgated in the 1930s. Burgundian arrangements have been used as a reference point from Alsace to Barolo, and Burgundian terminology is self-consciously echoed in the Erste Lage and Grosse Lage rubrics recently embraced by Germany’s Verband Deutscher Prädikatsweingüter.

Although Burgundian arrangements were not codified until the twentieth century, it is generally conceded that much of their foundation was laid a good deal earlier. To explore that turf and identify what he calls “original grand crus”—that is, de facto grands crus before the advent of the appellation d’origine contrôlée (AOC) schema —Charles Curtis presents English translations of extracts from two eighteenth- century, four nineteenth-century, and one early twentieth-century French works. Of these, only one, as far as I know, has been rendered previously in English (André Jullien, Topographie de tous les vignobles connus [1816]), so the mere fact of translation, even of short excerpts, should be useful to anglophone readers. Chapters 1–5 consist of thread text by Curtis about each work and its author(s), woven around short translated excerpts. The authors bring quite different personal and professional backgrounds to their interest in Burgundy’s vineyards, and these differences mark their respective works. Chapters 6–22 follow the same pattern of thread text and excerpts, but each of these chapters is geographically delimited, be- ginning in the north with the Côte Dijonnaise and ending at the south end of the Côte d’Or, at Santenay, facilitating attention to commune-specific details. In chap- ters 1–5, the thread is a good introduction to the sources and their authors who, apart from Jullien, are not especially well known. Some of the translated excerpts are unremarkable; it is not surprising to learn, for example, that “the people of Beaune [ca. 1780] believe themselves in exclusive possession of the best wines of Burgundy” (p. 21). However, much of this material is keenly interesting and occa- sionally startling as historical documentation. Consider, for example, that Denis Morelot railed as early as 1831 against “greedy proprietors” who “cover their sup- posedly weak vineyards in manure” and “propagate by layering more vines than they should” so that their grapes “contain above all water and vegetable proteins” and are produced in “over-abundant” quantity (p. 38). In addition, winemakers in the nineteenth century were sugaring their musts “even in hot years” (p. 42). Finally, landholding patterns, at least according to Morelot, differed significantly and consequentially between the Côte de Nuits and the Côte de Beaune, the latter “incredibly fragmented,” leading to more blended wines, whereas the very best wines “that come from the same cru” were mostly from the Côte de Nuits (p. 44). There is also Jules Lavalle’s assertion, quoted on p. 51, that by 1855, vineyard surface planted to Gamay was almost 10 times greater that the surface devoted to Pinot Noir, largely (it is implied) because of excruciatingly low yields for Pinot, av- eraging just 18 hectoliters per hectare, or about half of what is typical today in premier cru vineyards. Historians know that Pinot lost ground to Gamay after the French Revolution, but the extent of the loss may have been understated.

In chapters 6–22, Curtis takes excerpts primarily from those parts of Jullien’s, Morelot’s, and Lavalle’s works where the authors have grouped their vineyard de- scriptions into qualitative categories (e.g., Tête de Cuvée, 1ère Cuvée, 2ème Cuvée, etc.), because it is aggregation of such assessments that drives Curtis’s own list of the “original grand crus.” The nineteenth-century groupings are generally con- sistent with modern classification and therefore confirm the proposition that most highly classified sites were known as such at least a century before the AOC work was done in the 1930s, but Curtis notes the exceptions carefully, especially where im- portant vineyards are concerned, pointing out that some differences between unofficial nineteenth century and official twentieth century reflect altered footprints for the crus concerned. For example, Les Gaudichots was not part of La Tâche in Lavalle’s time but had been combined with it by the 1930s. Similarly, Les Vérroilles, a separate cru in the nineteenth century, was made part of Les Richebourgs in the twentieth century. There is also abundant evidence, however, that nineteenth-century authors attached great importance to proprietorship. In their lists for each commune, Jullien, Morelot, and Lavalle listed the owners of each cru by name, along with the precise size of each owner’s holdings, sometimes making clear that changes of ownership had affected the quality of the wines pro- duced. For example, “during the time that Clos-du-Roi [in Chenôve] was owned by the crown, the vines harvested there enjoyed a very high reputation”—a reputa- tion that was subsequently lost (p. 73). This preoccupation with ownership is more, I think, than a reflection of the wholesale changes that followed the French Revolution. It is also quiet confirmation that Roger Dion (1896–1981) and Jean-Robert Pitte have been at least partially correct when they have argued that pro- prietors’ ability and willingness to invest in their vineyards is a more powerful deter- minant of wine quality that the intrinsic properties of terroir, a proposition vehemently contested by most “terroirists.” Jullien, Morelot, and Lavalle were also very conscious of heterogeneity within individual crus. For example, notwithstand- ing that no fewer than 34 different climats can be found within the walled 50- hectare surface of Clos Vougeot, and that per Lavalle “the upper parts give a wine that is very fine and delicate, [whereas] the lower parts … give inferior wine” (p. 28), Vougeot has consistently been treated as a single cru for classification pur- poses. Alas for logic, one cru is not always one climat or vice versa.

By its nature, The Original Grands Crus of Burgundy is not an easy read and is perhaps better sampled than read cover to cover. However, there is fascinating content here, great attention to detail, and a potent reminder that the exceptional in- dividuals who wrote extensively about Burgundy’s vineyards in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries are a source for much more than information about crus and classifications. Jullien, Morelot, and Lavalle were witnesses to evolutions in viticul- ture, wine making, and economic history writ large. If the excerpts from their work that Curtis has translated and annotated stimulate more attention to the original works than they have received to this point, our understanding of the transition from the Ancien Régime to the nineteenth century may be improved.

John W. Haeger
Stanford University
jwhaeger@gmail.com
doi:10.1017/jwe.2016.7

The interplay between the study of wine and the study of economics has continued to gain considerable appreciation in recent years, encouraged in great part by the nu- merous scholarly conferences held by the American Association of Wine Economists and its publication of the peer-reviewed Journal of Wine Economics. The rapid expansion of scholarly work in this area leads one to ask a basic question: Does this expansion simply represent the intersection of two areas of interest, fueled by the trend toward ever-increasing specialization in scholarly research, or is there perhaps something intrinsic and unique about the topic of wine that sets it apart from other areas of economic study? In short, does the subject of wine economics, building on the expertise of both wine and economics, justify the moniker of an emergent discipline in its own right? Such introspective questions may appear lofty, but they reflect the challenges that any young discipline faces as it strives to gain the respect of the broader research community.

In Wine and Economics: Transacting the Elixir of Life, Denton Marks takes seri- ously such challenges. The book draws on Marks’s personal experience and expertise as a classroom teacher of economics, as well as his expertise and passion for the world of wine. It intertwines an introductory textbook-like presentation of economic principles with the analysis of wine consumption and production and culminates in a contemplative discussion of some of the special and unique features of wine that dis- tinguish it from other economic goods. Marks takes a distinctively philosophical bent in the presentation of his material but, at the same time, writes in a lighthearted manner, always providing plenty of interesting tidbits about wine to keep even the most casual reader engaged.

Indeed, Marks’s book should find broad appeal among a wide-ranging audience beyond those interested specifically in what Marks sets out as an emergent field of wine and economics. Most obviously are professionals coming from either side of the intersection. Professionals from the world of wine, including those teaching in programs such as oenology and winery management, will find in chapters 2 through 5 a relatively gentle and intuitive introduction to core economic concepts as they apply to the wine trade. The analysis is general enough to apply to any eco- nomic good and therein provides the wine professional with a useful conceptual tool kit, but at the same time, it moves quickly within each chapter to illustrations with specific wine applications. In fact, this feature of the book also lends itself well to an entirely different yet complementary use: College level instructors of introductory microeconomics may find in these same chapters an opportunity to supplement their lectures on topics such as comparative advantage, behavior of the consumer, and behavior of the firm. As important as these subjects may be for aspiring econo- mists, students have been known to describe these as somewhat “dry” topics. Why talk about the monopoly power derived from product differentiation among auto- mobiles when one can sweeten the concept with an illustration of how official appellation designations such as Sauternes or Quarts de Chaume serve to strengthen the wines’ monopoly power? For the innovative instructor, chapters 2 through 5 offer a multitude of fun and interesting examples of the use of these concepts applied to wines, be they moelleux or “sec.”

Conversely, the later chapters, 6 through 9, have much to offer for the profession- ally trained economist who wishes to learn more about the aspects of wine that serve to make it a unique and interesting topic for economic study. Why is wine more than simply a difficult-to-assess, almost transcendent experiential good? In what precise sense might wine embody the ethereal concept of a cultural good, which transmits cultural value to both the individual consumer and society? To give but one example, does the notion of terroir, or sense of place in general, have the potential to endow a wine with cultural content, undervalued by individuals and deserving of social protection? In drawing in part on his own research, this is the class of difficult questions on which Marks embarks in his later chapters, and which in part help to frame wine and economics as a discipline distinct from other areas of economic study.

An idealist may wish that more of the analytical formalization developed in the earlier chapters could have been used to better envelop the more enigmatic discus- sions of the later chapters—something that might also have served to better unify the presentation styles between the chapters. However, this is a bold frontier on which the book embarks, and Marks helps us to see some of the key challenges. The book is written in a thoughtful and philosophical style, while offering bountiful morsels of interesting practical information about the elixir of life. It is sure to entice professionals as well as enthusiasts and represents an important synoptic and in- sightful text for the discipline.

Peter Pedroni
Williams College
ppedroni@williams.edu 
doi:10.1017/jwe.2016.8

Here is what is so enticing about wine economics. I am sitting in Starbucks reading through my newspaper. A small article catches my eye, one that I would usually just skip over and keep turning the pages. However, I had just read Thirsty Dragon: China’s Lust for Bordeaux and the Threat to the World’s Best Wines, by Suzanne Mustacich, and the newspaper article reported that yet several more high-level Chinese officials were being investigated for “serious breaches of discipline” (Hernández, 2015). If my interest in China’s President Xi Jinping’s anticorruption measures—the enforcement of which is implicated as one of the reasons for the recent fall in fine wine prices—had not been piqued by Thirsty Dragon, I would not have bothered learning the details of this latest government maneuver.

China’s current antigraft campaign takes us full circle in Thirsty Dragon’s story of China’s emergence as a wine-consuming and wine-producing nation. As promised in the book’s subtitle, Thirsty Dragon shows how China’s particular infatuation with Bordeaux wines has been an agent for change in aspects of Bordeaux’s en primeur pricing and marketing system, while speculating on whether these changes will further erode Bordeaux’s traditional way of doing business. This tale of wine in China provides insights into Chinese and French culture, society, and ways of doing business, along with a detailed peek at many of the intricacies of the Place de Bordeaux.

The start of wine’s role as a tool in China’s economic strategy occurred in 1996, when Premier Li Peng “extolled the benefits of red wine” (Mustacich, p. 14) as both an alternative to hard liquor and spirits—echoing Thomas Jefferson and others—and as a means for economic growth. The sense that Li gave the assembled National People’s Congress, according to Thirsty Dragon, was that “Grape vines were marvelous plants. They grew on hillsides and in poor soil, in places where very little else could thrive” (p. 14). To emphasize his point, Li toasted the Congress with a glass of red wine, which was, Mustacich notes, “an unmistakable signal to every official, state employee, and entrepreneur that red wine was approved by the Communist leadership … Li had opened China to wine” (p. 14).

From this beginning, Thirsty Dragon documents the fascinating interplay among key players that resulted from this “signal.” The Bordelais, of course, noticed and wanted to sell more wine in China, knowing that the Chinese saw Bordeaux wines, especially the first growths, as world standards for quality and prestige. Chinese businessmen noticed, with Bordeaux’s classified growths sought after for guanxi—the cultivation of personal connections and exchange of favors, where gifts of fine Bordeaux wines (the more expensive the better) eased the art of the deal. Celebrants noticed, offering capacious quantities of grand cru wines at elabo- rate banquets in a show of gei mianzi (respect). Importers and distributors noticed, negotiating exclusivity deals with Bordeaux vineyards. Investors noticed, establish- ing wine businesses, wineries, and vineyards in China, often as joint ventures with French or other collaborators, and purchasing chateaux in Bordeaux. Speculators noticed too, with record prices for Bordeaux wines at auction.

With two groups as culturally and traditionally diverse as the Bordelais and the Chinese, conflicts naturally arose. Thirsty Dragon details these tensions, not only between the Chinese and French stakeholders, but also among and between parties within China and within the Place de Bordeaux. The book’s style provides a series of short, insightful, and interesting cases in time and place as these interac- tions progress. This approach adds a sense of mystery, leading the reader to antici- pate what will happen the next time we meet the players involved. The numerous and rotating cast of individuals, businesses, government officials, collaborators, win- eries, and so on, however, does make Thirsty Dragon seem disjointed at first, but as one progresses through the book, the bigger picture does emerge.

The historical Place de Bordeaux business model had been changing prior to the explosion of Chinese interest in the region, as evidenced by growth in direct sales to customers by chateaux, wine being produced by négociants supplementing their role as middlemen, and smaller and increasing numbers of tranches released by chateaux to test the market. However, the emergence of the Chinese wine market exacerbated this process. Chinese merchants who saw no reason at all not to deal directly with chateaux owners did so—effectively bypassing the Place de Bordeaux’s close-knit courtier and négociant community on a larger scale. Rather than deal with the system, increasing numbers of Chinese investors bought an entire chateaux’s wine production—or the vineyard itself—and exported all of it directly to China. Chinese corporate wine merchants, who were often government employees under pressure to increase profits, backed out of agreements when convenient, especially in an already declining market, often leaving the Bordelais with vast quantities of unsold wine. Additional stress on Bordeaux came from frequently changing rules and laws in China, which made business dealings there a sometimes moving target. Trademark or brand “squatters” registered hundreds of wine names in Chinese characters under China’s first-to-file law (Mustacich, p. 141), putting owners of Bordeaux wines at a disadvantage with most customers in China who could not read the labels in French, hindering sales and profits. These practices and more deviate from the customs, traditions, and standards of Bordeaux (and several appear, at least in the eyes of some, as less than ethical), further straining the Place de Bordeaux. All of this is presented by Mustacich in rich detail with an academic’s eye, providing myriad footnotes and references—none of which distract from the book’s flow.

One might come away from Thirsty Dragon thinking that the rise in the Chinese and Asian markets is the sole cause of the upheaval in Bordeaux wine prices and in the en primeur system. Although the rapid growth in China’s demand for Bordeaux wines has made China arguably Bordeaux’s most important customer—a recent report noted that China was Bordeaux’s biggest importer in volume and second in value even after the recent sales slowdown (Anson, 2014)—there are other factors in this upheaval, as shown in much wine economics research. For example, there is a solid body of wine economic literature that correlates critics’ grades, including those of Robert Parker, the Wine Spectator magazine, and others, to the price of fine wines (see Masset, Weisskopf, and Cossutta [2015] for a recent review of this lit- erature).1 High ratings by Parker and other critics for the 2005 vintage (a “vintage of the century”) and again in 2009, along with a continuous string of very good to ex- cellent years, played a role as well.

In addition, the more recent decline in Bordeaux and other fine wine prices is sim- ilarly not solely the result of China’s influence and its anti-ostentatious campaign. The extraordinary price run-up from the series of outstanding vintages from 2005 through 2010, as well as China’s surging demand, discouraged the level of buying in much of the rest of the world. The recent financial crisis and economic downturn too, as duly noted in Thirsty Dragon, contributed to the slowdown in futures prices. More recently, Parker’s decision to stop reviewing Bordeaux wines has also been sug- gested as a contributing factor in lower prices (McCoy, 2015), but this is an area for future wine economics research. All of this, however, is not to say that, even with the deflated bubble for expensive wines, the events of this millennium have not had a pro- found and lasting effect on wine in China and, in turn, on the economics of wine in worldwide. The popularizing of wine as both a tool for economic development and as a healthier alternative to drinking baijiu and other distilled spirits continues. Wines in the $30 to $50 range, according to the chairman of a large Chinese wine merchant and importer, still sold well after the collapse in classified wine prices (Mustacich, p. 262).

Apart from the interactions between China and Bordeaux, Thirsty Dragon also describes the growth of the wine industry within China. Although the production of fine wine in China is still in its infancy, several quality-focused producers are profiled in the book, including Emma Gao of Silver Heights, Zhang Jing of Helan Qingxue, and Judy Chan of Grace Vineyards. Prominent to this story are the growth of Ningxia as a premier wine grape–growing region in China and the contin- ued search for terroirs that might support fine-wine making in China, complement- ing the nearly 2 million acres of vineyards producing inexpensive mass-market wines (TDA, 2015). Enhancing the push to solidify its reputation and demonstrate that quality wines can be produced in China is the establishment of new vineyards by renowned French producers, including Laffite Rothschild and Moet Hennessey.

After reading this book, one might wonder about the quality of this new breed of fine wines produced in China (which remain unavailable in the United States). Coincidentally, as Thirsty Dragon was published, an article in the New York Times profiled the growth in quality wines and wine-producing regions in China (Sasseen, 2015), and the New York Times’ wine critic, Eric Asimov, reviewed five of them, including two from the aforementioned Silver Heights. All were mostly Cabernet Sauvignon, and all but one included Merlot and/or Carmenère (called Cabernet Gernischt in China) and ranged in price from $17 to $100 per bottle.2 Asimov found the entry-level wines “soft, simple and easygoing,” with the top- level wines showing “a bit of complexity” and “deep, plush flavors and lots of oak.” However, he noted they all lacked a “sense of distinctiveness, or … terroir” (Asimov, 2015). As for the future, Asimov acknowledges that China has the re- sources to make acceptable commercial wines, wondering if it will also produce sought-after distinctive wines. With this question, the next phase of the Thirsty Dragon story begins.

Stephen Chaikind
Gallaudet University
stephen.chaikind@gmail.com
doi:10.1017/jwe.2016.9

This hardcover book printed on durable alkaline paper is part of an American Chemical Society (ACS) Symposium Series. The purpose of books in this series is to publish rapidly in book form the results of original research findings as well as timely reviews presented in the symposia. This book is based on an ACS symposium, “Flavor Chemistry of Alcoholic Beverages,” held in Boston, Massachusetts, in August 2010. General topics covered include those such as flavor and flavor precur- sors in wine grapes and their conversion in wine, as well as the aging process during wine production resulting in degradation and formation of flavor compounds. As it describes advances in wine flavor chemistry, it is of technical interest to scientists and other professionals engaged in wine and other alcoholic beverage research and development.

Wine flavor research is the main topic of the book as it comprises 11 of the 17 chapters. Other alcoholic beverages discussed include beer, tequila, rice wine, and two Chinese liquors (Moutai and Langjiu). In this review, I will confine my com- ments to the presentations regarding wine. Many of the chapters are focused on tech- nical aspects of the flavor of one of the grapes that is associated with the region of interest of the authors. Examples include Shiraz (Australia), Sauvignon Blanc (Australia), Pinot Noir (Oregon), Garganega (Veneto, Italy), and three new Chinese grapes, Ecolly, Meili, and Hutai. Other major topics of the book include the process of wine oxidation and the assessment and detection of smoke taint in grapes and wine.

The research is peer reviewed and technical in detail, but the conclusions are in- teresting and relatively easily understood by the nonchemist. Let us explore some of the findings to get a better flavor of this flavor-based book. Shiraz grapes can produce a high-quality wine with a major defining component as a “peppery” aroma and flavor. This can be directly attributed to the compound rotundone. This is an important discovery because the rotundone level can be influenced by vi- ticulture practices as it comes directly from the grape or by wine-making practices. Smoke taint has become an increasing danger to grapes and wine as uncontrolled wildfires have become a frequent threat to vineyards. One chapter describes how the quantification of guiacol glycoconjugates can assist in smoke taint quantifica- tion, while another chapter describes an enzymatic analysis that can be used relative- ly rapidly to assess smoke taint risk levels in the grape supply. An ancient technique of long skin maceration time of white grapes in clay vessels has been revived with some commercial success in Italy. Authors of the Veneto region of Italy where this technique is being used have studied its impact on wine aroma descriptors and aroma compounds. The future use of this method is aided by this basis of under- standing in order to ensure that the fundamental aromas desired can be regularly achieved. The exposure of wine to oxygen can be both helpful in forming favorable aroma and taste compounds, or it can be deleterious as it can cause the rapid dete- rioration of wine. The results of one study emphasize the importance of oxygen man- agement at bottling and the oxygen barrier properties of the closure in optimizing the sensory properties of wine. The authors found that natural cork stoppers or Saranex screw caps provide optimal oxygen transfer rates and were superior to other closures.

There is an unusual chapter among the wine chapters in that it was a review of the wine of Northwest China rather than a formal presentation of a chemical research issue regarding wine. The chapter is a bit difficult to read as its translation leaves ample room for interpretation; however, the fact is that China is now among the leading growers of grapes and producers of wine. This alone deserves attention. At the time of this publication, China was fifth in grape cultivation and seventh in wine production in the world. Wine production in China started 9,000 years ago and currently includes the products of Chinese-developed hybrid grapes, wild grapes of China, and some European varieties.

As this is a reference book for scientists engaged primarily in enological research, I recommend this for wine economists interested in multidisciplinary research. The book chapters are available online, so if one has a specific topic of interest, one could purchase it online. Each chapter has extensive references, there is a well- formed subject index, and the book is bound in long-lasting hardcover and includes plenty of tables, figures, and color illustrations.

Lawrence R. Coia
Past President, Outer Coastal Plain Viticulture Association
njwineman@comcast.net
doi:10.1017/jwe.2016.10