Everywhere I go people seem to be talking about it. Despite long being recognised as significant in the wine trade, I don’t think anyone would call it much more than a bit-part player in the voyage from grape to glass. Sure; soil, microclimate and topography all play their part and, on occasion, can help elevate a wine to levels way above its peers.
Looking at Côte d’Or Burgundies, for example, there’s no question that the geography and soil contribute to some of the world’s finest wines – to the extent that whole tomes have been written and lifetimes spent on finding similar sites elsewhere in the world. But it’s not really an issue for me—I can’t afford to drink them anyway.
Further down the ladder, it becomes less of a game changer. With a £10-15 bottle of Chardonnay or Pinot Noir, for most, the main distinguishing factors are temperature (grape ripeness) and oak influence. The complexity provided by terroir are largely unnoticed.
But wine isn’t what sent me down the terroir rabbit hole. Two recent trips east took me, firstly, as mentioned in last month’s newsletter, to Brindisa’s Leguminati World Pulse Day and then to Tom Calver’s Westcombe Dairy in Somerset – as recently featured on Radio 4’s Farming Today.
At both, terroir played a major part in the conversation. It’s hard to dispute that if it plays a role in winemaking, why shouldn’t it in other, relatively unprocessed agricultural products. It’s worth knowing which pasture produces the best cheddar, and the same goes for beans. When viewed holistically it can only be for the good, so I’m definitely not having a pop at either business.