Perhaps you’re into period English movies (like, say, anything by Jane Austen). If so, you’ve noticed that when it’s time to break out the good stuff (you know, the bottle from the cellar that needs to be decanted), it’s always a wine called “claret.” While I do enjoy the occasional Jane Austen movie, I’ve been a more consistent fan of wine — but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what this claret stuff was, why it was so beloved, and where I could get my hands on it. The short answer is that “claret” is basically British slang for red wines from Bordeaux. The long answer involves ancient Romans, Eleanor of Aquitaine, English corruption of the French language, the Hundred Years’ War, and a dry, brick-red rosé that might not yet be on your radar.
The Romans, great champions of the grape themselves, did bring viticulture to the Bordeaux region — though, to be honest, they were much more interested in the trading potential of the huge natural harbor located in the Gironde River estuary. Once the empire collapsed, so did those trade routes from the Mediterranean to northern Europe. Ultimately, Bordeaux (along with the rest of southwest France) became part of the large, powerful, and independent duchy of Aquitaine. And this is where our claret wine story begins.
Bordeaux was English for centuries
Eleanor, daughter of William X, Duke of Aquitaine, had already been Duchess of Aquitaine, Queen of France, and was still in her 20s when her royal marriage was annulled in 1152 for lack of a male heir. Even though her lands were restored to her, Eleanor found herself in danger of kidnapping and forced marriage — and indeed, two attempts of this were made before she made a proposal to her third cousin, Henry Plantagenet, Duke of Normandy. The younger Henry quickly agreed, and the two were married in secret eight weeks later. The lands of Aquitaine were now an English possession, and Henry would go on to become king two years later.
“Great convoys of 200 or more ships at a time would arrive in Bordeaux each autumn and each spring to load up with Bordeaux ‘claret’ and head for English and Scottish ports such as Bristol, London, Leith, and Dumbarton,” wrote wine expert Ox Clarke in his History of Wine in 100 Bottles. “By the 14th century, some estimates reckon Bordeaux was sending Britain enough wine for every man, woman, and child to have six bottles each.” Cool, but you can’t drink history. What do people mean by claret wine?
What is claret wine?
As mentioned previously, “claret” is an English colloquial for red wine for Bordeaux. But if you look a little more closely, the word is actually a reference to established gentility and sophistication. The late wine merchant Steven Spurrier once wrote, “My cellar is 90% European — of which 70% is French, and in turn, 35% of that is claret.”
When defining claret more closely, Spurrier didn’t talk about region, but rather perception: “The red wine from Bordeaux, of course, but for the claret lover it is much more than this: an address book of well-known names, whose faces (or châteaux) are immediately recognizable, whose background and character, changeable with the years, is well known and well defined, on whom one can rely.” After that, he just talked vaguely about “lift” and “fragrance of bouquet.” That narrows it down.
Luckily, Bordeaux is one of those wine regions committed to tradition. Almost all, 90%, of red wines produces in that appellation are primarily made with two grapes: merlot and cabernet sauvignon. Which of those is emphasized determines not only how the wine will taste, but which side of the Garonne River it came from.
What is the taste of claret wine?
So-called “left bank” wines from Bordeaux are cabernet sauvignon dominant. In other words, they’re big, tannic, bold, and can age for decades. Going out for a fancy steak dinner? Consider ordering one of these. To know it fits the claret remit, order a bottle produced in one of the oldest subregions of Médoc, like Pauillac or Margaux. “Right bank” Bordeaux wines, as you might have guessed, emphasize merlot. These tend to be softer, plummy, and fragrant. If you choose an established château from Pomerol or Saint-Émilion, you know you’ll be drinking a good claret wine.
Lastly, look for the wine’s classification (Bordeaux even introduced this concept in 1855). There are five of these based on region, in order of seniority: Grand Cru Classes en 1855 (Médoc); Cru Classés de Graves; Grands Cru de Saint-Émilion; Crus Bourgeois (wines produced in one of the eight Médoc regions); and Crus Artisans (from smaller Médoc producers). These will tell you about the wine’s comparative quality. Did you order a Château-Figeac 2018 Saint-Émilion? Congratulations — you’re about $250 poorer, but you’re drinking a proper claret.
A rosé from Bordeaux?
Weirdly, the term we’ve been discussing didn’t originally refer to red wines at all. “Claret” is an Anglicization of “clairet,” a distinctive, deep-red rosé from Bordeaux. When Henry and Eleanor married, this was basically the kind of wine being produced in the region. Although clairet was (and still is) made from the typical Bordeaux varietals of merlot, cabernet sauvignon, and cabernet franc, they were fermented for a much shorter amount of time — days instead of weeks — and the results were lighter in color and body, fruitier, and significantly less tannic. Once the more robust (and more recognizable) full-bodied red wines from Bordeaux captured the public’s taste, the clairet style was parked in a corner, now limited to a tiny amount of production. All the more reason to try it.
But the name stuck — well, sort of. From “clairet” we got the corrupted “claret,” which the British continue to use unofficially to this day. So, you can always have a lovely glass of claret, even if it says “Lafite” or “Château Haut-Brion” on the label. And if you’re interested in a good rosé, try a bottle of Clara Clairet from the Clos Dubreuil vineyard in Saint-Émilion.
