The taste of "Brett" in wine

A line that is often crossed

Barnyard (the smell of which you either love or hate) by Edward Hicks, 1848

A few days ago I received a note from a wine buff in England which started out, “Just read your article on Brett… great piece.” I scratched my head thinking about which article he was referring to; then remembered that we have lived with something called the internet for well nigh 30 years, where many articles go to live, well, forever. I had only written two articles on wine devoted exclusively to the oft-times controversial subject of Brettanomyces; once for a Hawai’i hospitality magazine in the late 1990s, and the last time in 2002 for a pioneering online wine site called Wine Lovers Page.

This gives me the opportunity to pay tribute to Wine Lovers Page’s Robin Garr, the Louisville based wine, food and restaurant journalist who has managed to keep his groundbreaking website alive and ticking since its founding in 1994, long before ideas such as blogs or social media were conceived. I first met Mr. Garr digitally in the mid-1980s, when he managed CompuServe’s Wine Forum, a good ten or so years before the advent of the so-called World Wide Web. Positively cavemen days.

After contributing commentary to Wine Forum for years as a print media wine columnist (between 1981 and 2002) for my hometown newspaper Honolulu Advertiser (now the Honolulu Star-Advertiser), Robin invited me to post regular online columns for Wine Lovers Page, first called “Wine & Food Advisory from the Melting Pot of the Pacific” (starting in April 1999), then towards the end (December 2008) “Culinary Wine & Food Adventures.” You can find a library of those posts here. Thank you, Robin!

But I digress. The gist of last week’s message received from that wine lover in England was that he missed “real wine,” unafraid of “minimal or zero sulphites crawling with enough germs and bacteria to wipe out a city. That's what I want…. I want Brett!”

Genévrier Cade (Juniperus oxycedrus), one of many plants common to garrigue throughout Southern France exuding wild, gamy aromas contributing to wines.

All the same, the question of Brett is as polarizing as ever. Just a month ago I gathered with friends for one of our typical “Vino and Vinyl” nights, where one of the many wines we enjoyed was a 2020 Domaine Hauvette Amethyste from Provence, which is a wonderful, Biodynamic grown Kermit Lynch import consisting of Cinsaut (60%), Carignan (30%) and Grenache (10%). Average vine age 40 years, fermented and aged in cement eggs—what’s not to like? It was, in fact, a luscious, terroir nuanced (i.e., authentic garrigue) red; only thing, plus a distinct touch of barnyard. Probably Brett. The question was, do we appreciate the wine for its brightness, or do we penalize it for its flaw? Kind of like wanting to award a crown to a beauty contestant winning everyone over with an eminently bright and buoyant personality, while being willing to ignore an obviously crooked set of teeth. These days, many of us will gladly take the crooked teeth, while many others can’t overlook it.

I remember, back in 1994, when Kermit Lynch himself got so exasperated by “hip tasters” constantly complaining about wines exuding what Lynch always considered “complexing aromas”—that is, scents suggesting “game, humus, black truffle,” or “animal, undergrowth, wild mushroom, leather, earth, barnyard, dead leaves, etc.”—he took out an entire page in his own newsletter to write about something he called the “ATTACK OF THE BRETT NERDS.” Wrote Lynch, “I think it is an American mentality… once this yeast was identified it began to be treated by some as if it were a germ… Let the Brett nerds retire into protective bubbles, and whenever they thirst for wine it can be passed in to them through a sterile filter. Those of us on the outside can continue to enjoy complex, natural, living wines.”

Domaine Hauvette, the Provençal estate of our dreams. Gail Skoff.

Here’s the thing, years later (in 2010) when I sat down to interview Mr. Lynch for a long piece in the original Sommelier Journal, he admitted that after a few years he began to drop some producers or specific wines because he got tired of seeing certain bottles constantly returned to the store. When it comes to business, even Lynch had to acknowledge that microbial issues, or vintners who don’t filter or utilize enough SO2 when they should, can be problematic for the people who matter most—the customers!

Anyone who knew me during my 28 years in the restaurant business also knows this: 99% of the French wines that I sold in my restaurants were Kermit Lynch imports; like Lynch, I came to be more selective in what I chose. I don’t think people who found Brettanomyces somewhat off-putting were “wine nerds.” In fact, I know most of them had no idea what was turning them off. It’s just that many people prefer the smell of some kind of fruit in their wine, not a barnyard.

In the end, my own conclusion was this: Go ahead and enjoy your Hauvette Amethyste, but put it in a complementing food context. Exactly what I suggested way back in April 2002 in my Wine Lovers Page post entitled “The taste of Brett in wine,” which I am transcribing below in its original text. Food for thought, literally and figuratively. Hope you enjoy this blast from the past…

The times they are a-changin’… or maybe not.

From Wine Lovers Page

The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast. One of the controversies that emerged in the 1990s concerns an extremely common, but seldom discussed, taste factor in wine called Brettanomyces; often shortened to "Brett" in the parlance of winemakers.

Brett is basically one of the many natural species of yeast that begins to make its presence known in red wines after fermentation, while they are aging in the barrel. Although I have found few vintners anxious to discuss it, in recent years it has been understood that Brettanomyces, more than anything else, is largely responsible for the earthy, leathery qualities long associated almost exclusively with European wines. Not too long ago, many wine writers and industry professionals mistakenly attributed this taste to terroir or climat—that is, the unique environmental conditions of specific regions and vineyards in Europe—and spoke of it in reverent, and sometimes even mystical, terms.

The "glove leathery" nuances found in red Burgundy, the "sweaty saddle" common in Provence's Bandol and Spanish Rioja, and even the handsome, leathery complexity common to many of Bordeaux's grand crus: as it turns out, all of this was essentially the work of a component that oenologists generally classify as a "spoilage" yeast. At worst—when left uncontrolled in wineries by judicious use of sulfur dioxide (the most effective method of suppressing Brett)—Brettanomyces laden wines begin to taste "mousy" or metallic, or else barnyardy and all-too-often, manure-like. The latter, in fact, can be tasted in a number of new, up-and-coming Pinot Noirs coming out of New Zealand and Australia. I have found distinctly leather-like, verging on manure, qualities in a number of Cabernet Sauvignons from Chile as well as California and Washington State. Particularly distressing is the fact that many of these high Brett wines have been retailing in the $35 to $75 range—as if having this stinky "European" taste qualifies for an ultra-premium price!

Château Musar, a widely acclaimed Bekaa Valley, Lebanon estate notwithstanding frequent employment of Brettanomyces as a sensory attribute.

The Brettanomyces controversy within winemaking circles began to heat up when more and more New World producers turned to traditional, Old World styles of vinification; particularly involving natural yeast fermentation, minimal sulfuring and cellar intervention, and greater tolerance of high pH levels (the level of wine's acidic strength) than previously accepted. The goal, of course, is to preserve more intense, unbridled natural flavors, particularly when sourced from special vineyards. As further incentive, it has not been uncommon for wines that retain that French-like, or "rubber boot," quality to achieve higher ratings from well-known wine writers. Result: more prestige, greater demand, and higher prices.

Perhaps the most vociferous critic of this characteristic when it occurs in California wines is Ronn Wiegand, an influential MW/MS. He says, "As far as I'm concerned, Brettanomyces is a serious flaw that tends to blur grape and regional distinctions. I never really liked it in French wines, and I certainly don't think it belongs in California wines."

There has to be some irony to the fact that after all these years of being compared unfavorably to French wines, California wines are being knocked when they taste too much like them. In contrast to Wiegand, however, the two most influential American wine magazines, The Wine Advocate and the Wine Spectator, have definitely been known to favor wines with distinctive Brett. David Ramey, one of the California winemakers Wiegand admires most, has shared this view: "Although I'm not a big Parker or Spectator fan, in my experience wines that are known to be made as naturally as possible, like France's Château de Beaucastel and Pichon-Lalande, are often found to taste better. No question, Brettanomyces plays a part in these wines. So where's the problem?" [Please note: Although I am recalling a conversation with Ramey long ago, shortly after this article was posted Ramey wrote me a personal note clarifying that Brettanomyces plays absolutely no part of his own winemaking agenda].

Although when I first began to serve Domaine Tempier Bandols in restaurants (from mid-1980s to early 1990s) I half-expected to find microbial flaws such as Brett, vintages over the past 20 years have been pretty much unblemished.

Tony Soter, one of the winemakers I admire most, and whose wines at Etude have never been accused of being French-like, takes a more tolerant stance: "This is a sad issue, because it takes all the mystery out of those great French wines that, frankly, I love." As for his own wines, Soter admits, "I've played with Brettanoymyces, although at relatively low levels, because it does complement a wine somewhat. The point, however, is that ultimately it should be wine drinkers, not writers, who should decide what they like, and whether Brett in a wine is good or not."

The Ideal Food Matches for "Brett" Nuanced Wines

But is Brettanomyces a welcome "food" component? I would agree with Mr. Soter that as one of many nuances of complexity—something that can subtly highlight delicious qualities of a wine rather than overwhelm any of them—this cannot be wrong, especially if it can make your food matches that much more interesting. Some guidelines and experiences:

• There is probably nothing you can do in the way of food to make an over-the-top high Brett wines (pervasive tastes of leather to the detriment of fruitiness, or a basically unpleasant barnyard stink) taste better, or make a dish taste better. Unbalanced wines of any sort always have a low percentage chance of working with food.

• I've enjoyed softer, moderately scaled reds with leather or even gamy undertones in seafood settings; particularly fish or shellfish with strong marine notes of earthy quality. Who wouldn't, for instance, prefer a light, snappy Sangiovese based red over any white wine with pasta and mussels in an herb scented tomato sauce? Earthy red Bandol is often served with saffron laced bouillabaisse to delicious effect, especially with dabs of garlicky aioli; and in the Bay Area, I've enjoyed some funky, small batch Pinot Noirs with their many variations of cioppino.

• For deeper, sturdier red wines (like Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, or Southern French style blends) tinged with Brett, gamy meats like venison and leg of lamb are no-brainers, and meaty birds like squab, pigeon, Muscovy duck and even goose are not a bad idea either. But you can play with lightly gamy notes in a wine with any meat, gamy or not, with the use of earthy ingredients such as wild mushrooms, organ meats, bone marrow, lardons or pancetta, homemade sausages, horseradish, root vegetables, varieties of Chèvre, and in more elegant settings, truffles and foie gras.

Muscovy duck (Cairina moschata), one solution for Brett nuanced reds.

• Just as use of fruit (fresh or dried) in dressings, finishing sauces, or condiments compliments a gamy meat, it goes a long ways towards brightening the fruit qualities of red wines with low key Brett.

Some Brett laced wine and food matches I have known and loved:

• In Berkeley, a succession of mildly gamy 20 year old reds (a Chave Hermitage, followed by a Vieux-Télégraphe Châteauneuf du Pape and Domaine Tempier Bandol) with a potato casserole generously layered with black truffles.

• In Australia, a lamb's brains in mustard sauce with a wildly earthy Rockford "Basket Press" Shiraz.

• In Santa Cruz, a ravioli of escargot, herbs and truffle oil with a lush but leathery Au Bon Climat Pinot Noir.

• At home in the Islands, an oyster stuffed game hen in a ragout of giblets, onions and porcini with a leather-on-lace Allegrini "La Grola" Valpolicella

• Even lustier, a confit of duck, roasted garlic and offal in a white bean cassoulet with a mild but pungent, unsulfured, unfiltered, un-nothinged Morgon by Foillard.

But maybe you don't dig snails, lamb's brains, cioppino, or the taste of Brettanomyces in your wine. That's your call. After all, in the end that's all that matters.

Jean Foillard, one of Beaujolais’ “Gang of Four,” famed for low intervention wines.