'Welcome to the Chardonnay country club, sir.' I thought things couldn't get any worse for the world's most prestigious white grape when I visited the Napa Valley a few years ago. But they could and they have. ITV's Footballers' Wives features a character called Chardonnay (the one who set light to her boobs by accident). The series is supposed to be funny, but some people have taken it all too seriously and the name Chardonnay is growing in popularity in the country's maternity wards.
This is a terrible comedown. Two hundred years ago, Napoleon's troops used to salute as they marched past Le Montrachet, Burgundy's most respected Chardonnay-growing vineyard. Nowadays, Chardonnay has been reduced to a TV tie-in. With an eye for the main chance, Asda has been running a wine promotion alongside Footballers' Wives.
Chardonnay isn't the most planted white variety in the world - the dubious distinction is still held by Spain's Airén - but it sometimes feels like it. Everywhere I go, someone is planting Chardonnay, usually at the expense of some neglected local grape. I was giving a lecture at the BBC Good Food Show recently when someone approached me with a bottle of wine. Would I like to taste it? The liquid was vile, but the man assured me it was made from Chardonnay. Where did I think it was from? My first guess was Kenya, my second Brazil, but it was even worse than that. 'I grew it in my green house in Solihull,' the bloke told me.
The popularity of Chardonnay is not hard to understand: it's easy to pronounce, easy to grow, easy to make and makes a pretty reliable glass of wine. This is true (almost) everywhere it's produced, from Chile to New Zealand, South Africa to Spain. The grape has a natural affinity with oak and makes ripe, full-flavoured wines with medium levels of acidity.
Chardonnay has become the world's quaffing white. But it's also much more than that. Those Napoleonic soldiers wouldn't have wasted their time saluting Lindeman's Bin 65 or Gallo Turning Leaf Chardonnay, after all. The New World, particularly the United States, New Zealand and Australia, produces some very fine Chardonnays, but the best, most long-lived expressions of the grape invariably come from Burgundy (I'm excluding Blanc de Blancs Champagnes here). The problem is that not everyone knows that white Burgundy is made from Chardonnay, largely because the French appellation laws forbid producers to mention it on their labels. Burgundians argue that grape variety is less important than 'terroir' (an imprecise Gallic combination of soil, climate, geology, tradition and human input) and they've got a point. A Chardonnay from Chablis is nothing like one from Meursault or St Véran. The distinction can be finer still: wines from neighbouring vineyards can often taste radically different. How do you sell that diversity to TV viewers and Asda shoppers? Er, you don't, which is why sales of Australian Chardonnay are still growing while those of white Burgundy are struggling. But I think I've got a solution to the problem: open a Chardonnay Country Club outside Beaune. Or get Chardonnay to change her name to Chablis.
Top 6 Chardonnays for February
My best buy
2001 Jordan Chardonnay, Stellenbosch Africa (£7.99, Waitrose) Gary and Kathy Jordan make some of the Cape's most outstanding value for money whites. This creamy, stylishly oaked Chardonnay, with its focused acidity and fine, citrus fruit core is hard to beat.
2001 Riverview Chardonnay/Pinot Grigio (£3.99, Somerfield) OK, it's a blend rather than unadulterated, but this peachy, lively, unoaked white is one of my favourite sub-£4 bottles. The fact that it's from Hungary shouldn't put you off, as anything from the Neszmely winery is worth buying.
2001 Handpicked Chardonnay, Reynolds Vineyard, New South Wales (£6.99, Safeway) Jon Reynolds is beginning to establish a well-merited reputation. This is honeyed yet fresh with good acidity.
2001 Michel Laroche Chablis (£7.99, Tesco) Textbook Chablis, this pure, minerally, tightly focused Chardonnay is really good with food.
1998 Antonin Rodet Chassagne Montrachet (£21.99, some Sainsbury's) Worth hunting down this impressive Côte de Beaune white - a fantastic Burgundy, youthful and nutty with hints of lemon and oak.
Billecart Salmon, Blanc de Blancs (£32.99, Oddbins) Not everyone is a fan of Chardonnay-only Champagnes, but this youthful, hauntingly flavoured Blanc de Blancs, which is just beginning to develop some bottle aged flavours, makes a delicious aperitif.
