At Les 110 Taillevent, a Michelin-starred Paris restaurant that specialises in pairing dishes with wines at various price points, the wine list reflects a traditional European hierarchy: French labels dominate, then Italian, Spanish, plus the occasional Californian bottle. One entry stands out: a white wine from Denmark.
The Cuvée Frank, €28 for a small glass, hails from Stokkebye domaine in southern Denmark. Partially aged in oak, this fresh wine with flavours of green apple and pineapple also has “a certain nuttiness”, says Paul Robineau, executive head sommelier for the Taillevent group.
Its presence signals something else, too: a redrawing of Europe’s wine map as climate change expands viticulture into territories long considered too cold, while challenging traditional winemaking regions to adapt.
“Ten years ago, you would never see a Danish wine on the list,” Robineau says. “But, with the climate changing, Denmark is on its way to make great wines.”
Located on the island of Funen, two hours’ drive from Copenhagen, Stokkebye began in 2009 as an experiment. Jacob Stokkebye, a trained sommelier, and his wife Helle decided to see if the climate could sustain a serious vineyard. At that time, Danish wine was largely confined to a few hobbyists experimenting with cold-hardy vines.
But a combination of global warming and advancements in viticulture has turned this once-improbable pursuit into a small but vibrant industry. During the past decade, the number of vineyards in Denmark has doubled overall, while production has tripled.
“The weather we have here in Denmark today is similar to what they had in parts of France in the 1960s,” explains Jacob. “Today, our weather allows us to produce wines with a freshness and acidity that you’d find in [French] wines from that era.”
Wines from northern climates are emerging as serious contenders, while regions like Bordeaux and Rioja are grappling with hotter weather, overripe grapes and water shortages.
The shift is forcing the wine world to rethink long-standing assumptions about terroir — the interplay of soil, climate and human craft that has defined wine’s identity for centuries.
Family and workers gather at the Stokkebye vineyard in Denmark. Global warming and advancements in viticulture have turned winemaking into a small but vibrant industry in the country © Charlie Bibby/FT
Terroir connects a wine to its geography, promising drinkers not just a beverage but a distilled sense of place, says Lamberto Frescobaldi, president of the Marchesi de’ Frescobaldi, one Italy’s biggest winemaking dynasties, and president of the Italian wine union, Uiv.
Adapting terroir in the face of climate change challenges the system of appellation, used in France, Spain, Italy and elsewhere to protect the cultural and geographic distinctiveness of wine regions. Appellation is why a bottle of Barolo or Burgundy is defined not just by its flavour but by the strict criteria governing its production.
Some argue traditional wine regions must rewrite such rules in order to compete with pioneers in cooler climes, who are unburdened by the constraints of centuries-old wine laws.
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“The more research I do, the more I feel very confident that this is not a crop that is facing extinction,” says Elizabeth Wolkovich, a climate and phenology expert. “There’s no giant cliff coming for wine grapes . . . but there are big changes coming.”
She warns growers need to introduce new grape varieties or irrigate more vines. But others contend that such adaptations risk killing a wine’s identity, tarnishing its brand and compromising its commercial value.
Robineau argues that “when you add water to a vineyard, you lose the terroir”, comparing wine from irrigated grapes to a face that’s had too much Botox.
“Of course it looks nice, but at some point it starts to lose its character and become less interesting.”
There are close to 1,500 grape varieties planted globally, but the dozen or so that have dominated the industry for the past 150 years, and which produce its most celebrated wines, flourish in relatively narrow climatic bands.
Average temperatures during the growing season should ideally range between 12C and 22C. Even in that range, different varieties ripen at different speeds.
Early grapes like Pinot Noir peak months before late bloomers like Cabernet Sauvignon. The trick, growers say, is to align ripening with the mild autumn weather needed for the accumulation of sugars and tannins. Too little time, and the grapes ripen before they have developed much flavour. But too much heat may leave them syrupy, resulting in too much alcohol after fermentation.
Soil plays a subtler role, with the best wines emerging from vines grown in nutrient-poor, water-stressed soils that concentrate aromatic compounds in the berries.
Europe’s past climatic stability allowed the concept of terroir to flourish, elevating wine from a mere commodity to an expression of place and culture. But global warming has irrevocably changed this.
“If you love Bordeaux wines of the 1970s and 1980s, those are gone forever,” says Wolkovich. “We don’t get to have the climate we had of the 1950s and 1960s . . . so we don’t get to have the wines that people loved of that era, when we had a really stable climate.”
Marilou Vacheron, a fourth-generation winemaker at Le Clos du Caillou in Châteauneuf-du-Pape, says the area “has been experiencing a more extreme climate over the past 10 years, with more intense and prolonged drought periods, as well as violent hailstorms”.
“During the period from flowering to harvest, we observed a 3C temperature increase coupled with a reduction in rainfall of about 50mm,” she adds.
Rising temperatures have brought forward the veraison, when grape skins mature from green to yellow or purple, prompting growers to harvest earlier. A database of harvest dates from Beaune in Burgundy dating back to 1354 reveals that, since 1988, harvests in the region have occurred on average 13 days earlier than the prior historical baseline.
In Champagne, harvests traditionally took place in mid-September, ensuring the crisp acidity that is the hallmark of the region’s grapes. Today it is increasingly common for harvests to begin in mid-August. But Wolkowich warns that grapes ripening too fast can result in “sugar overload, poor acidity, and unbalanced tannins”.
The result is a higher-alcohol wine with less finesse. Robineau cites Pinot Noir, long lauded for its low alcohol, acidity and freshness. “But for the past few years we’ve had Pinot Noir over 15 per cent alcohol. We never saw that in the last 50 years.”
Climate change is also disrupting the dormant periods that are crucial for vine health. Warmer winters encourage vines to break dormancy earlier, exposing tender buds to the risk of spring frost. In 2021, France experienced an exceptionally warm winter followed by a cold snap in April. Newly sprouted vines perished in the frosts, leading to what was at the time the country’s smallest harvest since the second world war.
Southern Europe has also experienced prolonged droughts that tested the resilience of even the most established vineyards. “To produce high-quality wine, you need a certain degree of water deficit,” explains Cornelis van Leeuwen, a professor of viticulture at Bordeaux Sciences Agro. “But there’s a tipping point. Too much drought, and yields collapse.”
A statistical model developed by Giovanni Sgubin and his colleagues at the University of Palermo analysed the suitability of European vineyards under various climate scenarios, taking into account temperature, precipitation, and humidity.
It found that existing wine regions could adapt reasonably well to a 2C rise in global temperatures above pre-industrial levels — nearly twice what has occurred since 1880. But beyond this threshold, the proportion of Europe’s current vineyard area capable of producing wine-worthy fruit drops precipitously.
Coastal and lowland regions such as those in Spain, Italy and Greece are particularly vulnerable. Sgubin’s team projects that drought and heatwaves could render 90 per cent of these areas unsuitable by the end of the century.
While southern Europe grapples with potentially existential challenges, warming temperatures have turned once-marginal lands in northern parts of the continent into promising vineyards.
With chalky soils and a cool climate reminiscent of Champagne, England has become a powerhouse of sparkling wine production. As summers become warmer, English still wine is also gaining traction.
Poland’s wine industry has also rapidly taken off in the past decade, while Estonia, Lithuania and Latvia are producing wines that, though modest in quantity, hint at a future where northern Europe is a serious player on the global stage.
![Winemakers Bjørn and Halldis Bergum. ‘If we here in Norway can ripen Riesling, Chardonnay . . . we could have a chance to make even better wine than [the French] do,’ he says](https://love-europe.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/1735623025_653_How-climate-change-is-redrawing-Europes-wine-map.jpg)
Scandinavian countries are making their mark, too. In Norway, Bjørn and Halldis Bergum, who run the world’s northernmost commercial vineyard, have witnessed first-hand the impact of climate change on their winemaking.
Perched on the steep slopes above the Sognefjord, north of Bergen, their Slinde vineyard is a patchwork of low grape rows carefully tended by hand. “It’s earlier spring and later winter,” Bjørn explains, “maybe one month less frost than 40 years ago.”
He believes Norwegian wines could soon rival French ones. The country’s long summer days provide up to 30 per cent more light for photosynthesis, enhancing sugar and aroma development in the grapes. “If we here in Norway can ripen Riesling, Chardonnay . . . we could have a chance to make even better wine than they do,” he says.
He is unconstrained by appellations. “In Norway, we haven’t got any rules,” says Bjørn, who has tested 55 different grape varieties. His mission is to invent something entirely new, tailoring his choices to Norway’s microclimates. Each season is a gamble, as some varieties flourish while others prove unsuitable.
![Jacob and Helle Stokkebye with volunteers on their vineyard. ‘Today, our weather allows us to produce wines with a freshness and acidity that you’d find in [French] wines from [the 1960s],’ says Jacob](https://love-europe.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/1735623026_902_How-climate-change-is-redrawing-Europes-wine-map.jpg)
At Stokkebye in Denmark, Jacob and Helle take a different approach. Their methods are steeped in tradition, drawing inspiration from the centuries-old processes of Champagne. Stokkebye’s sparkling wines, made with Pinot Noir grapes, are often mistaken for their famous French counterpart.
“It’s just a matter of time” before French producers start buying up Danish land, he predicts, adding that friends in the industry report some French winemakers have already put in offers.
In commercial terms, it is still very early days for northern European wines. “Will [consumers] be wooed by all these new regions that are trying to grow grapes in new places, and that don’t have the same cultural history?” muses Wolkowich.
Frescobaldi in Italy says the rise of new competitors like England or Denmark “pushes all of us to produce better wine”. But to do that and cope with climate change, Mediterranean producers must adapt.
Many are now planting so-called cover crops which compete with the vines for water and nutrients, slowing the ripening of the fruits. Others have abandoned the practice of trimming vines, instead allowing leaves to shade grapes from the sun’s intense heat.
In Tuscany, vineyards are being planted at higher altitudes, where cooler nights slow ripening. “The goal is not just to survive but to produce wines that still express their unique identity,” says Frescobaldi.
Yet for many wine growers the most effective adaptations are also the most controversial: embracing grape varieties more suited to the changing climate and irrigating the soil.
Producers like Torres in Spain are reviving forgotten, heat-resistant native varieties, while Bordeaux has made the landmark decision to incorporate Mediterranean grapes such as Marselan and Touriga Nacional into its appellation rules.
Yet introducing new grape varieties or changing vineyard practices can take decades, not only because of the physical and logistical challenges but also because of regulatory hurdles.
Many producers feel the system remains too rigid. But others worry that such changes threaten the quality of wines from regions such as Burgundy, risking consumer trust and loyalty built over centuries.
French authorities are allowing appellations to irrigate their vines in the face of low rainfall and heatwaves with greater frequency, and Van Leeuven says growers are pressuring them to further relax the rules.
But he is adamant the Bordeaux region does not need it. “We have 800mm of rain a year. And if you look at the best vintages, without any exception, the best vintages are the driest vintages.”
In France’s southwestern Languedoc region, around 20 per cent of vineyards are now irrigated, according to van Leeuwen. “Honestly, I’m pretty worried about this tendency,” he says, as it puts pressure on already limited water resources and risks diminishing the quality of the wine.
The use of purpose-bred hybrid grape varieties is another debate. Weather-hardy hybrids like Solaris are helping to enable winemaking in countries such as Denmark, Sweden and even parts of the Baltics.
In southern Europe, hybrids offer resistance to drought and mildew, allowing winemakers to adapt to hotter, drier conditions without resorting to irrigation or chemical-intensive farming.
“Hybrids are promising because they require less spraying and have a smaller environmental footprint. But they still have a long way to go,” says Frescobaldi. “We’ve planted small test blocks of hybrids in Tuscany, but so far, they’re not performing at a level we’re pleased with . . . at this stage, I wouldn’t put them in a bottle.”
Wolkovich notes that the breeding process is still in its infancy. “We’ve been growing Pinot Noir for 2,000 years,” she points out. “Hybrids, in comparison, are still finding their footing.”
Changing grape varieties and vineyard practices challenges the very concept of terroir.
“Wine has to be the reflection of its terroir — the location,” argues Frescobaldi. “If we grow everything everywhere, we lose the sense of place, the identity. Our responsibility as producers is to enhance that sense of origin.”
“How can you make a Bordeaux wine with Touriga?” asks Robineau. “Of course you will lose terroir because Touriga is not a grape originally from Bordeaux.”
But Wolkovich points out that there is a precedent for radical adaptation. An epidemic of phylloxera in the late 1800s ravaged Europe’s vineyards and forced a massive replanting effort. The character of Bordeaux or Burgundy today “is really the result of decisions made a little over a century ago”, she says.
“The [grape] variety is really a small component of what the magic is. I don’t know if consumers will figure that out, but it’s really up to the wine industry also to help them.”
Additional reporting by Jancis Robinson
Cartography by Steven Bernard
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Publish date : 2024-12-30 20:59:00
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Publish date : 2024-12-31 05:30:26
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