
We’re all here for each other, we can admit it: There’s an epidemic in your wine shop. Maybe not in the shop, but definitely in fridges across America: It’s a terrible case of the Pinot Grigios. Though perhaps made most recently infamous by Real Housewife of New York Ramona (don’t you dare judge me), Pinot Grigio is the most ubiquitous of light white wines, something you see littering restaurant lists and lining shelves like nobody’s business, but the pale, thin, lemon-and-water approach to these wines give only the briefest nod to what the Pinot Grigio grape can bring to the table. Maybe we can break the cycle. Let’s take a deep breath. Join me.
The Truth
Pinot Grigio, or Pinot Gris in its native France, is an ancient variety that is grown all over the place, including France, California, Michigan, and very famously, Italy. Despite its pale color and often insipid overall character, the Pinot Grigio grape is actually a rich copper pink-purple in color, though its skins are often discarded after pressing. Occasionally, you’ll chance upon a pinkish, bronzy version where the skins are allowed contact with the juice and create a richer, more complex wine. Now don’t get me wrong: I actually love this grape, a lot, and spent almost all of my two weeks in France harvesting Pinot Gris, buckets and buckets of pink pearlescent orbs, sneaking samples of bitingly fresh, acidic, but richly sweet and floral grapes. But that’s what I miss about most Pinot Grigios: Where’s the character? Where did the grape go?
Maybe it’s just me, but I, for one, prefer my wine to taste like where it came from and to demonstrate a particular style with gusto: go big or go home, and this grape has more than enough material to create a massive range of expression. Italian Pinot Grigio is generally lighter, crisper, and higher in acid with lemon, apple, and mineral tones, while Pinot Gris from Alsace in the northern corner of France is viscous and rich, age-worthy but vibrant with smoky peach and floral accents. American versions can lean in either direction and will typically (typically, but not always) indicate their style preference: Grigio for lighter and crisper, Gris for richer and often a touch of sweetness.
But there’s a vast chasm between the light-saber precision and rich opulence, and these days, it’s too easy to get caught in the murky, mediocre middle. Don’t fall for it. If it’s high acid, crispness, and refreshment you crave, look to the Alto Adige, where Italy borders Austria tucked up into the Alps. Delightfully layered and perfectly precise, it puts the other Pinot imposters to shame. If you’re looking for peachy rich opulence, look for an Alsatian version in the tall skinny bottles (a tradition in the region). Try it with heavy, salty German food, or spicy-sweet Thai takeout, or braised pork. It’s so much flavor, it’s like bringing a party to a party.
The Alternatives
Once again, I’ll state my lack of qualms with good Pinot Grigio. Just a few months ago, my husband and I sat on a sticky Miami patio sipping a Slovenian bottle from Movia thoroughly enjoying both the day drinking and the wine that allowed us to do so. But if you’re weary of the ho-hum, sub-par versions of this really spectacular grape, there are scads of other varieties from across the globe that will hit the light, crisp part of your palate without scrimping on flavor.
Arneis
Never heard of it? No big deal. This darling, whose name translates to “little rascal” in the local dialect, spends most of its time growing in the prestigious Piedmont region of Italy, which is roughly in the left armpit of the peninsula. A region known for its aromatic and age-worthy reds from the Nebbiolo grape (Barolo and Barbaresco), Arneis is a favorite white grown here and also boasts attractive aromatics. Notes of sweet almond and white flowers with some crisp, just underripe pear floating around in there make this a beautiful starter and an easy sipper.
Compared to Pinot Grigio (note, we’re referring to the hoards of mediocre stuff, not the really stellar bottles), Arneis will be feel a touch richer and more complex, but still crisp and refreshing. My first choice would be bottles from Piedmont, but there are even a few excellent producers from California, like Palmina from the San Ynez Valley.
Verdejo
Verdejo is a Spanish grape that is grown all over that region and extends to California, Australia, and a few other regions. From the Rueda region, which is mostly north and central, Verdejo can vary from straightforward lemon and apple flavors to richly complex versions aged in oak. It’s lovely citrusy makes it light and perfectly quaffable on a warm summer day.
Verdejo will bring more flavor and less acid to the table than your typical Pinot Grigio, making them softer on the palate but full of fruit that makes you think of something crisp and soft all at once. One of my favorites is Nisia Old Vine Verdejo, which is from the grapes homeland and is crisp, minerally, but beautifully plump and floral as well. And it retails for about 15 bucks…hard to beat.
Albariño
Another Spanish favorite of mine, Albariño is from the northwestern corner of Spain and is generally higher in acid than either of the previous two examples. Biting and fresh, the best versions of the grape remind you of crunchy green apples, peaches, and minerality like seashells with soft, rich lemon balm underneath it all. It’s perfect with seafood, especially shelfish like clams, and it cuts through and stands up to heavy tomato or cream-based sauces, too. One of my absolute favorites.
For the Pinot Grigio lover, look for words like “crisp” or “citrus” in the description and don’t be afraid of the word acid. Remember that when we’re talking about wine, acid gives that expected puckery zip, but also a feeling of light, refreshing, palate-cleansing crispness, too.
So to you, Pinot Grigio Die Hard, don’t sell your favorite grape short; there are so many great versions of that grape, it’s a shame to see it forgotten in the wash of mediocrity. And if you’re bored with your glass, just shift your focus to the less-trodden aisles of your wine shop. The world is your oyster…which, by the way, would go swimmingly with a glass of Albariño.
Katie Callahan is a wine educator and former manager of Bin 201 Wine Sellers in Annapolis.
