To be or not to Chablis
A titan in the wine world, rife with history, and an epic town to visit (in summer)
The past couple of years, my friends and I have gone down to the South-West of France for a week of sun, sea, surfing, drinking and general idiocy - a great way to ‘wind down’ from our busy lives in London. The type of holiday you get back more shattered than when you set off? That’s the one.
A couple of us extend the trip a little longer each time, to drive down, staying in places in France along the way. Typically it revolves around food or wine. And so, this year, 4 of us descended upon Chablis on our return to civilisation. Unsure what to expect except a great time - what a decision it was to be. For reference, Chablis is in the north of Burgundy, south-east of Paris:
The rolling hills are something to behold as you drive towards the quaint town. Row after row of vines cultivated, tended to with paramount care, each grape a livelihood and each plot a generational story.
That’s what I love about these appellations (legally protected geographical areas that identify where the grapes for a wine were grown). It’s never been question by younger generations what crop the fields are used for, what most of the town do for work, what the subsequent generations are going to do - it’s the family business of vinification. Regardless of how brutal some winters are to their livelihood, how scary Trump tariffs are, each year they knuckle down - and goodness me are we thankful!
We arrived to the most beautiful Airbnb right in the centre of town mid to late afternoon (here if you want to take a look) and scurried around trying to find somewhere that would take us in for a bit of a tasting. Lo and behold - we found an absolute gem:
This is the Long-Depaquit Estate, that sits under the umbrella of wine world great Albert Bichot. Mostly known for their Premier Cru Nuits-Saint-Georges Burgundies (Pinot Noir) - this Chardonnay is some match. Whilst I would typically lean toward going for a true Chablisienne family owned wine, the wine we tasted here had in buckets the typical vitality and vivacity the area is so well-known for. A note: all Chablis wine’s are made from the same grape - Chardonnay, and if you have a half dozen oysters lying around to assist, it’s going to be a good time.
Every time I go to a tasting in France, I am blown away by the sheer amount of knowledge and passion the host has, and the amount you are given to drink in the 90 minute window. Lisa, our sommelier, was an absolute gem - gracious and welcoming despite the fact that 4 Brits arrived a mere ten minutes before the official tasting hours ended.
As we swirled and sipped, Lisa shared a fact that pulled back the curtain on an often overlooked element of winemaking: its geological roots. Beneath Chablis’ rolling vineyards lies a bed of soil teeming with fossilised oyster shells that date back to the Jurassic period. This ancient seabed, formed millions of years ago, is the source of Chablis’s signature minerality and elegance. While wine is so often entwined with human history - its role in celebrations, rituals, and trade - the story of its origins in the earth is less often told. But this interplay of vine and soil is so important, creating a terroir unique that its wines carry whispers of prehistoric oceans, offering drinkers not just a taste of craftsmanship but also of time and place.
She also offered an invaluable insider tip as we left: when buying wine, check out vintage charts on distributor websites, like Berry Bros. & Rudd. These handy guides reveal the best years for specific regions, saving you from overpaying for a lacklustre bottle.
As the giggles started, we ventured into the picturesque town to a lovely spot called Wine Not. Those of my Edinburgh friends will know why this was particularly enticing, but the research we did suggested the beef was a bit of a spectacle. Sat outside on the high street of this quintessential French town (think A Good Year with Russell Crowe), with a bottle of the good stuff (not the colour we were meant to pair with beef but when in Chablis right!), and an absolute whopper to tuck into:
I must say, it gave us a certain amount of pride that the waiter asked and confirmed twice we wanted two ribs between four people, and we dusted it off with room for a cheese board to spare. As always with these French towns, you seem to find the best produce, cooked incredibly well, with fantastic service in Hollywood-esque scenery and I would urge anybody who hasn’t, to get into a car with those you love, and just spend a few days driving to these spots in Central France. You’ll be welcomed in, well fed and watered, and leave satiated with a smile on your face. It’s the true beauty of France away from tourist destinations. And it didn’t end there, Chablis had a couple more surprises for us.
We were there on 14th July, one of France’s national holidays, Bastille Day, and having initially thought the town might be too small for any kind of local celebrations, we were wrong.
A parade with music, hundreds of people cheering the procession along the main high street, stakes lit at the helm, and a firework display that could compete against London’s New Years Eve showing. It’s a country steeped in tradition, where the countryside shines the truest light of its people. Perhaps I’m in danger of sounding like Charles de Gaulle and his version of La France, but I do think that Chablis, and the wider Sancerre, Dijon, Beaune area has that intoxicating feel that many tourists don’t see because they don’t go venture outside of Paris or perhaps the Côte Azur. Please please go, and you’ll see what I mean.
One final thing to sweeten the deal, we woke up to the sounds of the Sunday market: cheese, charcuterie, fish, and the most beautiful fresh fruit:
Anyway, I’ve lamented long enough now about Chablis, so here’s a couple of producers I think you should look for when buying, because they are the true expression of what Chablis wine is:
Grand Cru - only special occasions and punchy price point but look out for ‘Les Clos’ - its a specific hillside in Chablis, one of 7 that fall under grand cru listing, and is the hillside that most shows the true minerality I mentioned earlier:
The William Fevre is particularly good if you can find it, as well as the François Raveneau (if you can stomach the bill), otherwise I found this Louis Michel from Fortnum and Mason (says a lot): Les Clos link
Premier Cru - Only difference is the place. This isn’t in the 7 spots I mentioned for grand cru, but can be (and usually is) just as good, and a fraction of the price
Link to purchase the 2022: Beauroy link to purchase
Chablis - You can buy this on Berry Bro’s but actually, most supermarkets will have a version of Chablis and most will be delicious (as long as it comes from Chablis itself - there are some pretenders from other countries). Vielles Vignes is a bonus - it means old vines and typically produces a more structured and long lasting wine:
Link to purchase: Berry Bro's link
Petit Chablis - Petit Chablis is grown on the plateaus, while ‘Chablis’ is grown on the hillsides, so I would suggest going for Chablis’ if you can, to ensure you aren’t buying plonk. Both can be bought from most supermarkets, Majestic, that kind of thing, like this one:
Love and Chablis,
Harry
