As global warming threatens to change the land vintners have relied on — sometimes for centuries — established wine-growing regions around the world are deploying techniques old and new to adapt.
The goal: to stay competitive as progressively hotter harvests open up the prospect of wine from regions once deemed unsuitable for growing grapes — including Russia’s frozen but now thawing lands and rain-battered Britain.
In France’s southern Languedoc region, for example, once-sacred rules against irrigating are being relaxed, while growers in the U.S. are experimenting with genetically modified heat-resistant grapes.
That’s because by 2050, the world’s premier wine-friendly zones could shift as much as 180 miles toward the poles, says climate geographer Gregory Jones of Southern Oregon University.
In theory, that will make northern Europe or New Zealand more grape-friendly than Bordeaux or Australian valleys.
That has beverage conglomerates in the U.S., where wine is a $100 billion-a-year industry, scouting out vine plots that get more shade — contrary to age-old practices in both the northern and southern halves of the globe.
Meanwhile, sommeliers are readying for an array of new aromas as vintners vary varieties in response to warm weather.
“You are going to see people introduced to wines from weird countries, like Belgium,” says Jancis Robinson, wine expert and co-author of the latest edition of the “World Atlas of Wine.”
“You will see a lot more wine from Germany, which can finally ripen its grapes, … and good Canadian reds,” she says.
Climate and market forecasts, and studies of grape behavior, suggest that during the next two generations — not a long time in wine terms — vintage Kent and Chinese or Canadian chablis could occupy as much supermarket shelf space as Bordeaux, Rioja and Napa’s finest.
In addition to creating new wine regions, the warming trend is changing established ones.
To keep their vines cool, Argentine producers are planting them closer to the Andean slopes and in Patagonia. In South Africa, winemakers have moved sauvignon blanc vines to higher altitudes and sought patches open to cooling sea breezes.
In Ay, where producers such as Moet & Chandon and Veuve Clicquot nurture precious plots, harvesters hit fields in late August last year — the earliest since 1822, according to the Champagne Growers’ Committee, which sets harvest dates.
Leaving the pinot noir and chardonnay grapes on the vine any longer would have risked too much heat, too much alcohol and a strange new sweetness. “Those who make wine have always been sensitive to climate,” says Pierre Cheval, whose Gatinois Champagne House, a small family winery in Ay, has seen plenty of industry ups and downs during 11 generations in business. “Temperatures, humidity, microclimates, all this is essential to the health and originality of the grape.”