My Problem with Terroir.

I'm uncomfortable with the word terroir. It isn't that I don't believe in the dramatic influence that a vineyard exerts on a wine. Instead, my discomfort is rooted in the word's lack of certainty.

I prefer language that results in clarity and simplicity and allows people to be engaged in the same discussion. By their very nature, words that introduce ambiguity don't allow me to understand others or others to understand me. Ambiguity is friction that I like to reduce.

Terroir, the word, is loaded with ambiguity. Ask a dozen wine professionals or aficionados the definition of terroir, and you'll likely get more than a dozen answers. Though the idea is powerful, Terroir, the word, does little to bring about understanding.

The problem with terroir begins as a general language barrier. It isn't a word native to English* but, like so many wine terms, is French and is said to have no direct translation to English. The ideal conditions for ambiguity to thrive.

As English-speaking wine lovers, we must fill in many of the blanks. We do so by stringing together a series of concepts and ideas foraged from various sources, many of whose knowledge is just one concentric circle beyond our own. But, once heard, our anchoring bias etches it into our minds as indisputable fact.

This bias would be ok if most of us worked on a reality-based notion of what Terroir is. But we aren't. We are working on romanticized notions that often defy the universe's physical laws and rationality.

For me, terroir is often ascribed several meanings that make it an unusable word.

The first among these is that a wine that displays its terroir contains flavor molecules derived directly from the soil. Put another way, the wine tastes like the place it comes from. The idea becomes that "earthy" wines are more reflective of place and "fruity" wines are less. Many compounds responsible for "earthy" flavors and aromas are produced by yeasts and bacteria, both desirable and undesirable, that are not unique to any place or grape variety. These compounds can make a Willamette Valley Pinot Noir indistinguishable from an Italian Chianti.

There are examples of vintners who should know better, stating that their Pinot Noir has cherry flavors because the vineyard was previously planted with cherries. Yet we never hear of Pinot Noir having apple, hazelnut, wheat, or clover flavors when they come from vineyards previously planted to those crops. Similarly, the Pinot Gris or Chardonnay sourced from that same vineyard is never described as having cherry flavors. There is no evidence of the direct transfer of flavor compounds from the soil to wine. I'm not implying that soil composition doesn't influence wine flavor. I'm simply stating a Willamette Valley Riesling doesn't taste like stones because, somehow, a stone "molecule" was taken up by the vine and deposited in the grape.

This idea of terroir also over-emphasizes soil composition. It suggests that minerals such as Iron or materials such as limestone that the soil is derived from are the soil's most important contributions. The importance of the soil's physical characteristics, such as depth or texture, the relative portions of clay, silt, and sand, are downplayed despite their profound influence.

The association between soil, geology, and terroir is so strong they are assumed to be synonymous. However, geography is also essential in how a Place influences a wine. Climate is the most important of these factors. If you plant Pinot Noir in a climate ideally suited for Merlot or vice versa, even the best soil won't produce a wine worthy of comment. This truth is so evident that the grapes planted in a region are a matter of law in many parts of Europe.

Local topography exerts a powerful influence. The elevation, aspect (the direction the vineyard faces), and the steepness of its slope play a role. These variables affect the vineyard's daytime temperatures and how the vine intercepts light. Nighttime temperatures in the vineyard, another factor that receives too little discussion, are also influenced by the slope as cool air behaves like a viscous liquid that flows downhill.

The topography of the larger area surrounding a vineyard also exerts a strong influence. A great example is California's Anderson Valley. The Valley, formed by the Navarro River, dumps into the cool Pacific Ocean. Each afternoon cool air and fog make their way up the valley, first cooling and covering the more coastal vineyards and then, later, those further inland. The following morning the valley is warmed by the sun. This warming begins in the more inland vineyards and gradually spreads towards the coast. As a result, the region's wines are much more dramatic reflections of their location and proximity to the ocean and the resulting dynamic of cooling and heating than they are of vineyard soil.

I would only be contributing to the ambiguity if I didn't point out that a vineyard's geology and geography are not mutually exclusive. For example, the climate profoundly impacts a region's soils.  Temperature and rainfall patterns influence weathering of base materials and the movement of soil particles. Slope also has an impact as gravity will act to pull materials downward, typically resulting in deeper soils on lower aspects of a hill than those above.

Another source of ambiguity is the notion that terroir is objective. The implication is that a given vineyard has a specific flavor. The problem with this is that a series of human decisions significantly impact the taste of wine from a given site.

The most obvious of these choices is varietal selection. For example, a Riesling and a Chardonnay made from grapes from the same vineyard will share very few flavors. Likewise, different trellising and training methods with unique interactions with light and air will produce differing aromatic, flavor, and textural profiles.

Irrigation is a contentious topic when discussing terroir. The argument irrigation obscures terroir assumes an objective terroir exists. Alternatively, could irrigation, like varietal /clonal selection and Training/Trellising, contribute to a subjective terroir?

Lastly, to what degree do the farmer and winemaker play a role in terroir?  Growers have differing degrees of commitment and resources. They have differing ideologies. There is variation in the extent to which growers and winemakers collaborate on the actions of wine growing, such as yields and leaf pulling. Sometimes these are included in the definition of terroir, but often they are not.

My discomfort with the term terroir isn't that it is a grand, even mystical concept. For the record, I continue to be seduced by this magic. I am, however, uncomfortable when a conversation differs among the parties involved. The term terroir and its implied, not explicit, definition doesn't allow us to engage in the same conversation. The term might make me look like a bigger, smarter wine geek, but it doesn't allow me to educate, inform, or be educated or informed.

I prefer to use the term Place. Unlike Terroir, it allows all of us to have the same conversation.

*I don't fault a French speaker using the word.