There are lots of good things one can say about the run of recent white Burgundy vintages from 2017 to 2022. First, each remains findable on the market. (2017 requires hunting, but such hunting is rarely so richly rewarded.) Second, as there are no “problem vintages” in this grouping—despite what some naysayers insist, but more on that later—all can be approached without qualifications like “good for the vintage.” A third advantage is that the shared high quality across these vintages allows attention to center on stylistic diversity, which is always a delight to discuss and dissect. 

Each of these six vintages possesses a temperament entirely its own. This is especially interesting given that all but two (2017 and 2021) shared hot and dry growing seasons. Vintage chart analyses tend toward just two groupings: hot and ripe, or cool and classic. But a detailed look at these vintages, many of which may appear to be superficially similar, opens more nuanced and precise possibilities.

The 2017 White Burgundy Vintage

2017 will strike most as the strongest of these six white Burgundy vintages. The vintage’s reputation for classicism is interesting, as the growing season was not especially cool—it’s truer to call 2017 an island of moderation amidst an ocean of ripeness. Just as balance for any individual wine involves a proportional weighing of parts, vintages earn reputations in multi-vintage contexts.

One of the strengths of 2017 whites is a soft acidity that balances its fruit. 2008 and 2014, other coolish 21st century vintages, offer sharper features, but also sharper edges. The 2017s are far rounder. If I’m asked to reduce the vintage to one word, I’ll go with “friendly.” 2014 has more energy, but it’s rarely as genial and gracious as 2017.   

That said: seven years on, do 2017 white Burgundies confront us with genuine greatness? My sense is that time will answer cruelly. The crop has aged attractively, but a substantial percentage of them—even the best examples—are at peak, or close to it. I am perfectly at ease regarding middle-distance runners as admiringly as marathoners, even as most critics reserve their highest praise for wines fated for long evolutions in the cellar—because wines that age longer do not necessarily age better. In any event, be sure to open at least one bottle before burying a case of any 2017s in the back of your cellar. The  consistency of this vintage does not preclude several genuine high points: Paul Pillot, Morey-Coffinet, Bernard-Bonin, Dancer, and Jean-Claude Bachelet are all well worth singling out.

The 2018 White Burgundy Vintage

I’ve previously written for The New Wine Review about how 2018 is the least understood of the modern white Burgundy vintages. For whatever reason(s), the wines have taken superbly to reductive winemaking, and thus a subset of the vintage notably transcends the mean. 2018 is not a vintage for making random choices, but it has given us a surprising number of the region’s most individual and stylish whites in memory.

This is not the place for deep-diving into reduction and white Burgundy. But perhaps it’s a good place to admit that any-sized dive into the topic eludes precise clarification. Reduction—the distinctive aromatic and textural results of aggressively non-oxidative winemaking—makes such a formidable contribution to the best Chardonnays in Burgundy that marginalizing its role is impossible. To do so is like talking about poetry without acknowledging the beauty and musicality of language.  

2018, 2019, and 2020 appear similarly on vintage charts: hot and dry. 2018 has produced the strongest subset of any of these three, though, on account of reduction melding most persuasively with its personality. 2019s and 2020s do not tone and tighten as willingly, and do not show the same irresistible sweet citrus perfume that reduction coaxes from the 2018s. Frédéric Cossard, the Jobards (both Antoine and Rémi), Michel Niellon, and Pierre Girardin are examples of findable and relatively affordable whites that show the way. If you’ve internalized the equation that high acid = classic = good when it comes to white Burgundy, these producers’ 2018s will be valuable discoveries.

The 2019 White Burgundy Vintage

Like the 2018s, early returns on 2019 as rich to the point of opulence have proven an obstacle. Early critical opinion on the vintage centered on degree days and first-hand accounts of heat and dryness, which has led self-styled “savvy” Burgundy drinkers to become permanently biased against it. This is compounded by a brute fact of the market: as white Burgundy prices continue to rise, there are fewer opportunities to taste widely on release. As a result, drinkers— and even retail shops’ buyers and sommeliers—rely more and more on critical opinion.  

Stylistically, naturally high tartaric acid is 2019’s difference maker.  It’s the secret to this crop’s more muscled and tense feel compared with the average 2018. Terroir emerges more vividly too, and there is clearer consistency across the region. What is perhaps missing are the genuine high points necessary to drive the vintage’s reputation in the future. The wines successfully avoid generic ripeness, but they’re just not sufficiently captivating to warrant critical revaluation a decade from now. A few domaines worth a special search this year: Ramonet, Paul Pillot (again), and impressive overachieving efforts from Henri et Gilles Buisson (specifically Saint-Romain) and Domaine Lafouge (specifically Auxey-Duresses).

The 2020 White Burgundy Vintage

Like most 2019s—in fact to a greater extent—2020s don’t taste like creatures of a hot vintage. Acidities are through the roof, to the point that youthful pleasure is not among the year’s strengths. The 2020 touchstone is its impressiveness of scale. They show plenty of fruit and energy, but more individualized features remain hidden at the moment.  

2020 is clearly the most built-to-last of any vintage considered here. Nevertheless, it will be fascinating to see if the wines ever become tender and loving. Power makes a good starting point, but if collecting were as easy as cellaring powerful wines, many more of us would love our cellars unconditionally. It is fair to call the wines standoffish today. It’s equally fair to forecast many profound examples after many tomorrows. This vintage, Chassagne performed particularly well, as did Saint-Aubin—and Hubert Lamy, Henri Boillot, Domaine Leflaive, and Lafon have produced representative and built-to-last examples.

The 2021 White Burgundy Vintage

2021 will always evoke memories of the devastating April frost that crippled yields to historic lows. In time its crop of smaller-scaled whites might evoke admiration for its crop of pure but concentrated wines. The best 2021 whites are genuinely elegant, and possess positive attributes that improve on mere lightness. Third-rate producers can be recognized by their sharp, angular wines. The better examples show the DNA of pure Burgundy. They also show pure terroir expression too—in my opinion, more persuasively than the 2017s.

The sneakiest of this vintage’s attractive features is length. We expect vivid, pure flavors from a lean vintage. We do not expect  such unaccountable persistence of flavor. (I find finishes reveal upside potential more than any other feature of young white Burgundy.) In addition to drinking well now, most 2021s have more medium-term upside than is generally acknowledged. Few consider 2021 the peer of 2020, but I think the two will run a surprisingly close match race—especially at the top end. Jean-Claude Bachelet, Bachelet-Monnot, and Pierre Girardin (again) are names to look for.

The 2022 White Burgundy Vintage

2022 is just what the doctor ordered: a large crop of attractive and easy-to-like wines—a relief after the small crops from 2019, 2020, and 2021. 2022s are less idiosyncratic than preceding vintages. They possess a distinct populist appeal. The triad of freshness, generosity, and accessibility recalls 2017.  

And yet. Something about the 2022 whites leaves me oddly unsatisfied. The vintage has not taken to reduction as willingly as 2018, or even 2019, and there is less torque and tension in the best wines as a result. One often senses something missing in the wines that is difficult to articulate. This something may simply be the ability to sustain engagement over time, an impression that’s easier to experience than precisely describe. 

Even when the wines have good acidity and attractive fruit a sense of genuine energy is often missing. Another challenge: the wines tend to flatten out in the glass, which is never a good sign with young white Burgundy. Critics may be fonder than drinkers for just this reason—tasting and drinking, after all, are separate modes of evaluation. There are plenty of delicious and technically sound wines to choose from, though I'm sufficiently ambivalent about the vintage's personality to hold off singling any domaine(s) as must-buys.

To return to reduction: in our warming age, nearly all of the most interesting white Burgundies are reductive. And nearly all of the most sought-after producers are consciously seeking reductive results. American literary critic William Giraldi memorably suggested that “substance is the butler to style.” Burgundy’s best white producers have tattooed this motto into their most enduringly appealing wines. Lip service may still cede primacy to terroir, but non-reductive white Burgundies are increasingly not sufficiently interesting to sustain attention. Even wines that express terroir powerfully have to be fun to drink.  

Poetry that forgets the importance of style—the beauty and musicality of language—is never quite rescued by its thematic material. Similarly, now that hot is normal, white Burgundies that express terroir yet beyond that lack style, seem lifeless and cold. Choosing carefully within any vintage remains far more helpful than focusing attention on particular growing seasons. If you’re forced to purchase indiscriminately, 2017 clearly stands apart. But since you’re not, prioritizing producers who tighten and freshen their wines is the surer road to pleasure.