A Crisis of Bubbles (the sparkling ones)

Words: Maja Grahn / Images: Shutterstock

As if 2020 didn’t have enough bad turns and disastrous consequences, I gasped when I read the news.

Devastating as it was, the choice to spoil a large part of the exceptional 2020 Champagne harvest made sense. As a result of the global pandemic, the industry saw sales plummet by over 30 percent in the first five months of the year, with the annual loss of sales estimated at 100 million bottles. International shipments outside France were down by roughly 60 percent, and high-profile partnerships were abandoned.

As exclusive celebrations in a post-pandemic world continue to be a distant dream, customer demand for fine bubbles remains low—no matter how spectacular the vintage is. It sparks the question whether the identity of bubbles too is going through crisis? 

In the most common of senses, bubbles are synonymous with grandios celebrations, luxury, grandeur, success, prosperity, something to mark the better. This association is a direct perception of Champagne. The exclusivity of the sparkling wine is derived from its appellation—the legal protection of the name if produced in the Champagne region—and its legacy that dates back 300 years, to the origin of French democracy. The Champagne region spans 34,000 hectors with the epicentre Épernay where mostly Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier grow—the three grapes for Champagne. Adding to that lineage, there is the iconic branding with royals throughout the centuries, the allure of the Belle Epoque, and later, James Bond. There is also a history of fierce competition in fine wine-making across the domestic regions, and the organised group of actors in Champagne production—CIVC—which advocate for their product. All these factors have coalesced in the unified, strong, and superior identity of bubbles that we know today. 

Vinyard winter.jpg

Photo: French vineyard in winter

In reality, bubbles are so much more that the narrow idea of Champagne. The selection of excellent sparkling wines stretches well across the new and the old world—Crémant de Bourgogne from the neighbouring region, the red fizzy Italian Lambrusco, orange natural sparkling wines from hills of Greece, and the lovely South African Méthode Cap Classique wines, to name a few. And accompanying this range, should span our perception of bubbles and how to enjoy them.  

PERHAPS WE WILL ALL EVENTUALLY ABANDON THE 49TH LATITUDE FOR THE 51ST IN A FLIGHT TO FIND THE BEST CLIMATE.

 

The mythology of Champagne has spilled beyond its appellation and influences the perceptions of bubbles of all regions, resulting in misconceptions that should be debunked. It doesn’t have to be that one flute for the aperitif, fancy and expensive; during the passing of an exam during my university career I always celebrated with a cheap bottle of Cava. While the winner in any heatwave is the Piscine de Prosecco, a large glass of Prosecco with plenty of ice cubes swimming in it. It also doesn’t have to be the Old World classics—on my last trip to India I enjoyed beautiful bubbles from Maharashtra state. Over the past year, in an effort to come to terms with the trade repercussions of a potential no-deal Brexit, I have taken to searching out a more local selection of bubbles and have enjoyed multiple bottles from Kent, Devon, and Surrey.

Photo: Grapes in the Champagne regions at harvest

As if a global pandemic wasn’t enough, Champagne is at the centre of another contemporary crisis—climate change. The rise in temperatures as a result of climate change is an imminent danger to the timeless light crispness of Champagne, with the risk of the famous characteristics being lost as the grapes are exposed to more heat.

The region, known for its cold long springs and mild summer, has already experienced a change with the winters being shorter, the springs warmer, and the heatwaves more frequent. This has resulted in the start of the harvest being moved back two weeks in recent years, from September to August. Investors are now looking to a soon-to-be Champagne-like south of England—perhaps we will all eventually abandon the 49th latitude for the 51st in a flight to find the best climate. For now, the day when we can gather again is the day when I will drink Champagne. 

 

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