A Glass Act — here’s what the French have done correctly

We have, until now, maintained a responsible editorial policy of reviewing wines from countries that do not require a philosophy degree to order dinner. New Zealand. Argentina. South Africa. Places where the wine doesn’t expect you to know its backstory. This week, against our better judgment and several centuries of precedent, we have crossed into France.

Château Rauzan Despagne Bordeaux Blanc. 2024. Bordeaux, France, a region that has spent four centuries convincing the world that where grapes grow matters more than what they taste like. One hundred percent Sauvignon Blanc, which is French for Sauvignon Blanc but spoken with the implication that you’ve been saying it wrong your entire life. Fifteen dollars at Total Wine & More. Twelve and a half percent alcohol by volume. The estate began as a seventeenth-century hunting lodge, which makes this the most successful pivot in French history that doesn’t involve a guillotine.

Look: Pale gold, nearly translucent. Looks like fifteen dollars spent wisely, which around here qualifies as a minor miracle.

Nose: Lemon zest and lime, sharp enough to constitute a personality. Grapefruit beneath, with a mineral edge the professionals call “steely” and we call “surprisingly not annoying.” A faint tropical note appears briefly, like a Frenchman smiling. You saw it, but you can’t prove it happened.

Taste: Crisp, citrus-forward. Lemon and white grapefruit arrive with the confidence of someone who was right about something and has chosen to be gracious about it. Light-bodied but not thin. The acidity is precise rather than aggressive. It corrects you, but in a way that makes you grateful.

Finish: Gone before you’ve finished forming a compliment. Rude, technically. Effective, undeniably.

Serve it right: Well-chilled. This wine rewards cold and punishes neglect, though it communicates this through disappointment rather than hostility, which is more than we can say for most French exports.

Pairings: The moment you realize your prejudices were, in this one specific instance, unfounded. Anything you’re eating standing up in the kitchen at 10 p.m. because sitting down would mean admitting the day is over. Friends who don’t ask why you’re drinking French wine now.

Verdict: We entered this review with the full intention of confirming what we already knew: that affordable French wine is a contradiction, like affordable French anything. The bottle disagreed. Fifteen dollars, no lecture and a flavor profile that does its job without once mentioning terroir. We checked. It didn’t. We are forced to concede the point.

Rating: 8/10. France: 1. Us: 0. We are not happy about it, either.

We would like to state for the record that enjoying a French wine does not constitute an endorsement of French wine culture, French intellectual superiority, the metric system or the belief that other countries do not also have cheese. Should France continue producing wines this good at this price, we may be forced to revisit opinions we’ve maintained since before we could legally hold them. We ask for patience during this difficult time.

— Gabe Evenocheck & Ben BugbeeDepartment of Involuntary French Wine Appreciation

(This column is intended for readers 21 and older. Our legal team reviewed this disclaimer while muttering something about liability we chose not to hear.)