It’s easy to pick on the Bordeaux Grand Crus. They’re just so uncool. A still-strong association with the famed but deeply-unfashionable critic Robert Parker hasn’t helped, even though he pretty much stopped scoring Bordeaux in 2015. Other reputation drags are the obnoxious annual futures campaigns (which still rely so much on Parker’s and others’ 100-point rating system), and the widespread use of international superstar consultants with their terroir-obliterating techno-manipulations, as well as the impersonal scale of wine production.

But much about such criticism largely rings true. It’s pretty clear there was a general shift in style during the ‘90s and ‘00s towards fleshier, more alcoholic wines that often had prominent oak flavors. This shift masked—at least in part—some of Bordeaux’s distinguishing characteristics. Some like to call this ‘Parkerization,’ which seems slightly unfair. For starters, the man didn’t invent micro-oxygenation or global warming. Still, over my years of drinking Bordeaux and cataloguing my impressions,  I’ve noticed that many of the wines made in this style haven’t aged so well. Which is pretty much the opposite of what Bordeaux is about. 

All that said, not every member of the Bordeaux establishment went to the dark side. Many, like Cantemerle and Rauzan-Gassies, stayed close to their roots, and continued to make balanced, age-worthy wines with a sense of place and modesty. Others, like Troplong Mondot, dabbled with turbo-claret only to course-correct a few years later. After all, in a world where Burgundy challenges (and sometimes eclipses) Bordeaux’s share of the secondary market, chasing purity and finesse makes financial sense.

Even the staunchest traditionalists haven’t been immune to advances in technology. Fermentation temperatures now can be controlled to the half-degree. Detailed soil mapping has led to estates replanting varieties where they’re best suited. Drones can detect vine diseases in their infancy, which is especially crucial in the humid Médoc. Such innovations are, in my view, wholly positive. One can yearn for a more widespread return to tradition in Bordeaux and still find these innovations to be positive developments. I certainly do. 

Another advance: the drastic rise of sustainable viticulture over the last 20 years. Durfort-Vivens, Palmer, Climens, and Pontet-Canet are certified biodynamic, and Latour is right on the cusp. This notion would have sounded insane in, say, 1998. Looking beyond biodynamics, many more estates are either organic or at least farm sustainably. 

Of course, I still run across modernist Bordeaux wines that want for terroir expression, especially in Saint-Émilion, home of the high-octane ‘garagiste’ movement. Climate change has made it easy to hit 14.5% in most vintages, and there’s still plenty of critical praise to go around for wines with Napa-esque proportions. I find I often enjoy ‘weaker’ vintages like 2008, 2012, and 2017 for this reason. A bonus is that you find absolute bargains in these years if you look hard enough.

With all of this in mind, here are five excellent traditional wines from the Bordeaux establishment. None of these may ever be cool. But all are definitely worth drinking.

2019 Chateau Corbin (Saint-Émilion) ($42)

Corbin might be the traditionalist Saint-Émilion. Even in a ripe vintage like 2019, Corbin has energetic red-fruit and silkiness. This is 90 percent Merlot, but the balance of Cabernet Franc comes through in the notes of herbs and dried violets. Yes, it clocks in at 14.5% alcohol. Yes, it tastes a little of chocolate. But it also tastes like Saint-Émilion, and good Saint-Émilion at that. This is warm-year Bordeaux at its best. 

2016 Chateau Cantemerle (Haut-Médoc) ($47)

Cantemerle is criminally under-appreciated, perhaps because it was only a fifth growth in the 1855 classification—and effectively a last minute write-in, at that. Then again, Lynch-Bages and Pontet-Canet are also fifth growths, and they are most definitely appreciated. Maybe it’s the fact that Cantemerle is a Haut-Médoc, rather than a Margaux or Pauillac. In any event, Cantemerle makes wonderfully old-school and effortlessly age-worthy mid-weight Bordeaux. I often find a savory, sous bois-meets-pipe tobacco aroma when these wines are mature. 2016 is considered a great vintage, and many wines offer an irresistible combination of ripeness and freshness. Cantemerle stays on the fresh side here, and, as a result, this already makes for fantastic drinking today. Though it’s still better to wait another decade for more complexity and finesse.

2017 Chateau d’Issan (Margaux) ($78)

One of my favorite producers for light-footed Cabernet with a long shelf life. Chateau d’Issan isn’t inexpensive, but it’s outstanding value for the price. The wine is never quite as seductive as fellow third growth Palmer—or, say, Chateau Margaux—but it’s still very elegant. Generally, you’ll find more purity and lift with d’Issan than, say, Malescot-Saint-Exupery or Lascombes, though sometimes d’Issan requires a decade or more to really come around. 2017 was marked by a terrible spring frost, and  perhaps it’s this calamity that’s made it a very underrated (and underpriced) vintage—all the more so if you like your Bordeaux lifted and red-fruited. If you want something with a bit more age, try the 2008 ($95).

2012 Chateau Palmer (Margaux) ($289)

Palmer is a third growth that often drinks like a first growth. The wine can be a little plush in riper years, but it’s breathtakingly classy in a vintage like 2012. This was the year before they began converting to biodynamics, but improvements to viticulture were well underway. Alluringly perfumed and vibrant, you could drink this today. But it’s probably best to wait at least five more years.

2017 Cheval Blanc (Saint-Émilion) ($649)

Can Cheval Blanc, owned by LVMH, still be considered a traditional Bordeaux producer? It’s hard to say they aren’t at least a little flashy. But compared to other stars of Saint-Émilion, like Angelus, Pavie, and Tertre Roteboeuf, Cheval Blanc is downright demure. 2017 is a unique vintage for the estate; thanks to the spring frost, there’s more Cabernet Sauvignon in the blend than there usually is. It’s a little austere, but also amazingly linear and bright, with notes of citrus and tart red fruits—in other words, it’s pretty much the opposite of modernist Saint-Émilion. This will go and go, so don’t touch until 2035. For something a little more approachable, try Cheval Blanc’s excellent 2012 ($608).