This article from Opimian Celler 312 – Chile, Argentina, Alsace and Languedoc
Viñedo Chadwick, Chile’s most expensive wine, currently has an average price of US$327 and earns an aggregate score of 94 points from leading critics[1]. In comparison, Bordeaux’s Pétrus is priced at US$4421, with a slightly higher score of 96 points. So, for your US$4094, you either get an extra two points or can purchase an additional 12 bottles of Chile’s flagship red.
To make this a fair fight, the heavyweight from Argentina, Nicolás Catena’s top drop, Estiba Reservada, is still a quarter of what Pétrus will charge. Chadwick – no parvenu – is a seasoned campaigner of 23 vintages and 10,000-bottle yearly output (still not huge – only a third of the Pétrus average). Furthermore, the 2021 was released on La Place de Bordeaux to a gluttony of superlatives and scored a perfect 100 points from The Wine Advocate’s Luis Gutiérrez. What isn’t to like?
Why the low valuation? Several factors are at play. There are differences in production costs that contribute towards South American wines offering better value than their European counterparts. While transportation and packaging outlay tends to remain consistent globally, labour costs vary massively. A vineyard worker in Chile, for instance, will earn approximately US$9 per day, compared to US$11 per hour for a worker in France. And this is before examining either the value of the brand or the vineyards from which it comes. Pétrus has an unalienable sense of place and nothing in either Argentina or Chile has the glittering lineage dating back half a century. Cheap land, a soft labour market (Viñedos Chadwick takes the matter seriously and has a documented sustainability policy covering employees) [2] and weak currencies all work in South America’s favour but the natural potential of this region is enormous.
According to Jancis Robinson, vineyards over 500 meters in Europe are the exception to the altitude rule as they are prone to unreliable ripening[3]. This is where South America scores big. The Andes are a gigantic rain shadow offering spellbinding viticultural conditions. At Mauricio Lorca’s Vista Flores vineyard in the Uco Valley, a combination of poor soils, low humidity, and a consistent macroclimate allow for ripening even at 1000m (as impressive as this is, the vineyards in Salta, in Argentina’s northwest corner, can reach 2000m and still perform – Merlot is planted here[4]).Altitude brings higher natural acidity and fuller flavour, while ‘higher radiation can make photosynthesis more efficient and plants healthier’[5]. Mendoza is at such altitude that winemakers need worry less about insects and bacteria that would otherwise be an issue. Vineyards can reach ripe old ages – Lorca’s vines can be centenarian. Phylloxera gets short shrift, too. It is only sporadic in Argentina, and non-existent in Chile, so that producers need not invest in grafted vines.
The sum of these advantages is genuine quality at a lower price point which, unsurprisingly, has attracted some of the wine world’s most prestigious names including both Lurton and Rothschild. Argentina and Chile have made Malbec and Carmenère, respectively, their own in ways that France perhaps cannot. But such a division for its own sake is crude: what has taken place over the last 40 years is a synergy of talents that bridges the hemispheres.
Thus, one has Paul Hobbs venturing to Chile in the late 1980s before being lured to Argentina by Nicolás Catena’s brother, Jorge, and forging the beginnings of Malbec as a premium concept although it was Attilio Pagli, the Tuscan wizard, who made the first export Malbec for Catena in 1994[6].
Chilean Carmenère shares a similar timeline. It was mistaken for Merlot until J.M. Boursiquot identified it correctly in 1994 (DNA profiling confirmed his conclusions in 1997)[7]. Thereafter, its stock rose considerably. Carmenère plays a minor role in the spectacular Rothschild/Concha y Toro Almaviva blend, but really comes into its own as a monovarietal elsewhere: a late-ripener, Carmenère loves Chile’s beach-bum climate and responds with plush, warm flavours.
This is the New World by name if not by nature. Vines of great age bear testimony to origins in pre-phylloxera Europe, the expertise is truly international, and really it is only the climate and the economy that remind one of the distance from Paris or London. It’s a shame that Chile and Argentina find it hard to shake off the happy-go-lucky supermarket image but for canny consumers there is bona fide prestige to be found, and at very favourable prices.
[1] https://www.wine-searcher.com/find/vinedo+chadwick+maipo+valley+chile [2] https://errazuriz.com/pdf/policy_en.pdf [3] https://www.jancisrobinson.com/articles/the-highest-vineyards-in-the[1]world [4] https://www.jancisrobinson.com/articles/the-highest-vineyards-in-the[1]world