Burgundy’s most overlooked wine is better than ever—and just might have found a following, at long last.

“A wine so bad they made a cocktail for it.”

Félix Kir, clergyman, hero of the French resistance in World War II, and mayor of Dijon from 1937-42, is the rare individual whose name adorns a classic cocktail—the Kir. Rarer still, Felix Kir, were he here with us, might well prefer you skip the cocktail and go straight for one of its ingredients: white Aligoté wine from Burgundy. 

Kir loved Aligoté deeply and promoted the cocktail (once referred to as the “blanc-cassis”) to boost its popularity among his fellow countrymen. But while the Kir—one part crème de cassis, nine parts Aligoté, served up in a small wine glass, most happily alongside buttered radishes and gougères—may have climbed its way into the pantheon of drinks, its hallmark ingredient decidedly has not. 

Aligoté has long been overlooked. Edged out of both its ancestral territory and popular consciousness by its famous Burgundian neighbors, Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, the variety was, for many years, an afterthought. More recent reports suggest Aligoté is getting edged out of its own cocktail, as well. Notes unimpeachable cultural authority Wikipedia: “originally made with Bourgogne Aligoté, today . . . [m]any prefer a white Chardonnay-based Burgundy, such as Chablis.” 

What good, we may ask, is a wine that can’t even remain the signature in its own signature drink?

As it turns out, plenty good. And a growing chorus of inventive young winemakers, deeply knowledgeable veterans of Burgundian viticulture and adventurous sommeliers are happy to tell you why.

An ornery grape’s sad state

Aligoté earned its outcast status about 100 years ago during that dark span between the late 19th-century phylloxera root-pest crisis that decimated Europe's vineyards and the years immediately preceding World War II. The varietal’s persnickety growing nature was partly to blame, as was the losing hand it was dealt in the 1937 codification of the French appellation system, which relegated the grape to regional appellation status—the bottom layer of Burgundy’s quality pyramid. What had been a wine that often originated in the very same fields as its first-class local companion—Chardonnay—was now officially sent to the cargo hold.

Yet for a grape in such low demand, Aligoté did—and still does—few favors for its caretakers. Aligoté vines tend to yield enormous amounts of fruit, which might be a blessing if high yields didn’t also tend to produce low-sugar grapes, a typical indicator of uninspiring wines (imagine a tiny, sweet field strawberry’s concentrated flavor in contrast to that of a giant, watery grocery store strawberry—now apply the same principle to grapes). 

As Anne Morey of Domaine Pierre Morey points out, Aligoté “needs to be rigorously tended in the vineyard.” Yet even when it is, only the most careful vignerons are rewarded for their efforts, as Aligoté can often defy all attempts at balance. "Aligoté has tougher and more bitter tannins than Chardonnay,” says Benoît Pagot of Domaine Jérôme Galeyrand. Peter Wasserman, an exporter based in Aligoté's home region of Burgundy concurs. “Aligoté ripens late and is naturally a low-sugar grape with pungently high acidity,” which can often lead to a puckeringly sour result.

Aligoté is also tough on consumers, as its broad variety of expressions, growing regions, and price points make its characteristic qualities unusually difficult to discern (if, that is, one can find a meaningful assortment of Aligotés to sample–a near impossibility in the U.S., given how little of the variety is imported and widely distributed). Further complicating any curious drinker’s attempt to understand Aligoté is the fact that most of it is actually planted outside its homeland. The Bureau Interprofessionnel des Vins de Bourgogne reports that 1,635 hectares of Aligoté are planted in Burgundy. But as Morey notes, that’s less than 10% of all Aligoté worldwide, much of which is cultivated in far-flung regions such as Eastern Europe (where it often ends up in blends) and Oregon, Canada, and Chile, where smaller, newer plantings have cropped up. 

It should come as no surprise, then, that along the way Aligoté has become known, quite unaffectionately, as "the other white grape,” or when matters of rank apply, "the second white grape.” Farmers cemented this status post-phylloxera when they replanted white grape vines across Burgundy and made the sensible decision to fill their fields with the popular, friendly, easy-to-grow, first white grape, Chardonnay.

A light in the dark 

But the life of a grape is long and varied, and more than 80 years after Félix Kir’s attempt to bring attention and glory to his favorite wine, Aligoté has finally found a niche. The young Burgundy-loving crowd, drawn to the wine’s ability to express its terroir with surprising sensitivity and beauty, has also taken note that Aligoté is a remarkable value sitting quietly in the shadow of skyrocketing Chardonnay and Pinot Noir prices. 

Aligoté, it turns out, comes from grape nobility; it sits on the same branch of the family tree as Chardonnay and Gamay. At its best, it shows off a high-toned acidity, herbal and citrus notes and occasional saline hints. And despite the grape’s undistinguished history, a handful of famous producers—Roulot, de Villaine, Coche-Dury, and Leroy among them—have quietly continued to make quality Aligoté wines despite the far higher prices Chardonnay grown on their land can command. At the same time, Aligoté hung on for many years in Burgundy through interplantings (many of which are now gone) with Chardonnay in a surprising number of vineyards, including Grand Crus like Montrachet and Corton-Charlemagne. 

Aligoté’s continued presence isn’t a mere vestige of history—in the hands of a skilled producer, the wine often shines. “As long as it is cultivated with high quality in mind,” says Pierre-Henri Rougeot of Domaine Rougeot, “Aligoté can show the best of many soils, from deep clay at the bottoms of hills to limestone at the tops—even on granite.”

This secret is well known in the Côte Chalonnaise, a region that sits directly south of the world-famous Chardonnay appellations of Meursault, Puligny-Montrachet and Chassagne-Montrachet. Morey points out that 25 years ago, the Côte Chalonnaise town of Bouzeron “became the only village-level wine dedicated exclusively to Aligoté in all of Burgundy." It remains so today, with results that validate Bouzeron’s distinction. 

Then there is the lone Aligoté to have enjoyed an exalted status for many years: Domaine Ponsot’s Clos des Monts Luisants, the only Premier Cru Aligoté in existence. Regularly fetching over $150 per bottle, Ponsot’s Aligoté vines are planted in the Morey-Saint-Denis hillside vineyards that received Premier Cru classification in the 1930s. After much dragging of bureaucratic feet, the French government eventually acknowledged that Domaine Ponsot’s Aligoté, planted next to the newly crowned Premier Cru Chardonnay and Pinot Noir vines, deserved a Premier Cru designation, as well.

Aligoté’s virtues have begun attracting attention from many of Burgundy’s most talented young winemakers, who, much more than previous generations, are drawn to varietal experimentation and the unique challenge of coaxing fine wine out of an ungenerous grape. When discussing Aligoté’s potential for terroir expression, Pagot points out that, "the question of terroir imprint is often posed for Aligoté but rarely for Pinot Noir or Chardonnay. Of course Aligoté shows its terroir."

There’s more good news on the way for Aligoté, which may be well-suited to the warmer vintages Burgundy (and other regions) are likely to see in coming years due to climate change. Wasserman explains that because Aligoté “is an inherently higher acid grape that needs longer hang time before picking, it retains great freshness,” even in hot and dry vintages like 2018, 2019 and 2020. Laure Guilloteau, an enologist at négociant Jean-Claude Boisset, agrees. "In sunny vintages, Aligoté can be easier to vinify than Chardonnay . . . its refreshing qualities are easier to preserve."

Pique Curiosity

If the tastemaker set hasn’t yet fallen head over heels for Aligoté, it has certainly taken notice. "I've been pouring Aligoté by the glass as it's been warming up,” says Nikita Malhotra, Beverage Director at Michelin two-star restaurant Momofuku Ko. “Just in the last few weeks, I've served bottles from Emilian Gillet, Charles Lachaux and Domaine de la Soufrandière."

Malhotra and others have discovered what few understand about Aligoté: it ages quite well. All of that acidity is its lifeline, allowing the wine to bring a broader flavor profile with waxy, nutty and biscuity aromas. In time, the acidity feels more integrated, too. "I cannot tell you,” says Anne Morey, “how many times my grandfather said that as it ages, Aligoté imitates Chardonnay!" 

Morey also marvels at the new interest sprouting up in cities with adventurous drinkers. "In the 2010s, I started offering some old stocks–15 vintages worth–to London. I sold zero Aligoté there at the time,” but gradually a group of “trendy wine bars—the kinds where sommeliers go to hang out after service—started by taking the oldest vintages!" Little by little, Morey started seeing requests come in from similar bars and restaurants in the U.S., Japan and even at home in France.

One reason Aligoté has become something of an insider’s wine is because it’s a very good value for the money–maybe the rarest quality of all for a Burgundian wine. Aligoté from specialist producers such as Sylvain Pataille, Pablo Chevrot and Jérôme Galeyrand can be tracked down for less than $30.

Let the drinking begin

The trick, at least for now, is finding it. In-depth Aligoté lists are rare at restaurants, and even rarer among retailers. Restaurants with unusually broad or adventurous wine lists are a good bet. As for retailers, K&L and Astor Wines & Spirits have a broad selection available online and in person. Manhattan's Parcelle shop and wine bar carries about five different varieties, while Verve Wine offers one or two well-chosen bottles in its NYC, Chicago and San Francisco shops. 

An easy shortcut for selecting a good Aligoté is to look for a reputable Burgundian producer of Chardonnay or Pinot Noir–if they make Aligoté, chances are it will be well worth a try. If you’re looking to experiment by style, check the label, which will indicate where the grapes were grown, then follow Rougeot's general guidance: "Wines from Yonne or the Chablis area tend to express tension. Those from Côte d'Or give greater complexity, and the Mâconnais wines are slightly rounder." 

While Aligoté’s stylistic range makes it difficult to offer broad prescriptive advice on food pairings, the wine is often a fine complement to lighter foods, especially those with a savory edge. Aligoté’s combination of acidity and salinity also means it can pair nicely with trickier fresh foods, like endives, artichokes, salads, and asparagus (though this doesn’t apply to Aligotés aged in new—or newer—oak). Many types of fish and lean white meat work well, too, as does fresh, Alpine-style cheese.

Aligoté can reflect a broad assortment of styles—some are frisky and light, some fruit-forward or smoky with a hint of toasted oak noblesse. Others can be downright salty. Many are surprisingly complex and intelligently made, indicating the impressive progress Aligoté’s producers have made, with more each year opting to treat their Aligoté with unprecedented care.

If this all seems like a lot of momentum for Aligoté, it’s helpful to bear in mind the grape makes up just 6% of all plantings in Burgundy—a mere drop in an ocean of fine wine. But make no mistake: after many years of wallowing in trivial obscurity, Félix Kir’s beloved Aligoté is on the march. Go forth and find a bottle! No crème de cassis required.