Sugar (da da da da da da), Oh, honey, honey - The Story of Chaptalization

Chaptalization is a real wine geek word, yes sir. Apart from the fact that the word’s meaning cannot be inferred by etymological means, the very thing itself never fails to spark an, ahem, “discussion” amongst those who are familiar with the process. To some chaptalization is an unmitigated abomination and to others it’s just a dervish in a decanter.

So to formally define the word, chaptalization is the process of adding sugar to a fermenting wine to boost its final alcohol level. In the past, cane and beet sugar was extensively used, but for the purposes of both “appearences” as well as fiscal practicality, many producers have taken to using grape must or concentrated grape musts to effect the action. The derivation of the word “chaptalize” is attached to one Mssr. Jean-Antoine Chaptal who is often credited (or saddled) with having invented the process, but another French chemist named Pierre-Joseph Macquer is the real culprit. Why the process took Chaptal’s name and not Macquer’s, I don’t know but I’m guessing that Macquer’s family isn’t arguing …

The word “chaptalization” should bring to mind chilled, damp stone cellars in northern Europe, and vineyards only just drizzled with peek-a-boo flashes of pale sunshine. These sorts of conditions are what often forces a cellarmaster’s hand to do the deed in the first place. Essentially, chaptalization is a post-harvest path to a “ripeness” that was not freely given by mother nature. To put the process in a “time-lapse” context, long hours of sunshine mean higher ripeness levels (sugar) which means more alcohol ,and therefore a bigger, burlier body. For growers in hot and sunny climes like Greece, Italy, California, etc., chaptalization is totally uneccessary, and gives the growers and winemakers there something to point to to show how growers in Germany, Burgundy, etc., that they are in only marginally practical regions to make wine. And while this is true (though less true every day as the planet warms), it in no way NECESSARILY means that growers from more northerly regions make inferior wines.

So, when chaptalization is properly utilized, it is nigh on impossible to tell that the process had been employed in the first place. The risk exists however (and there always does seem to be a “however”, right?) that if cellar temperatures are too low (which they often are in chilly northern Europe) after the sugar has been added to the wine, a fermentation can “stick” or become “stuck”. This aberration is caused by cellar that reaches a temperature just low enough to send the yeasts that cause fermentation to go dormant, and therefore stop turning sugar into alcohol (plus CO2). “Well, then just raise the temperature, and you’re back on the road, right?” Well, the answer is “sometimes”, but in just as many cases as not, raising cellar or vat temperatures doesn’t “wake up” the yeasts. Now if a winemaker has gone ahead and chaptalized, and then runs headlong into a very stubborn “stuck” fermentation, he or she has a real problem; if the winemaker cannot “unstick” the fermentation process, he’s got a vat (or maybe 5 or 6) full to the brim with half-fermented, semi-sweet wine…make some “adult” ice pops, maybe?

But besides the practical pitfalls of chaptalization, there is the perhaps even stronger deterrent of pride or peer pressure. There is, among many winemakers who farm areas in which chaptalization is permitted (many regions expressly FORBID it), a subtle and sometimes not so subtle pressure to go au natural and not chaptalize. Some winemakers strictly self-police and would rather make no wine at all if a vintage does not measure up. Either way there is a certain notion that chaptalization = inattention or laziness in the vineyard, and that in some cases might be so, but many who level this criticism agianst their peers have sunny south or west-facing vineyard sites that rarely if ever don’t fully ripen, so these criticisms are often unfounded and unfair.

But as I’m sure you’ve likely figured out by now, chaptalization can be a dirty little secret in the regions that allow it. Many winemakers who will swear on their mothers’ graves in public that they don’t chaptalize, will admit, after a few pops, that they sometimes, or even ALWAYS chaptalize. And because there is no requirement to label chaptalized wines as such, those that do it can do so regularly without ever running the risk of being exposed as “adulterators”.

So what’s wrong with chaptalization anyway? The stock beginning of this response normally would be: “Theoretically there is nothing wrong with chaptalization…” but in this case there is nothing PRACTICALLY wrong with chaptalization provided that the process is handled properly. The rub here is indeed rather THEORETICAL or philosopical. The argument goes that honest winemakers that truly and freely embrace the variable conditions that their terroir gives them from year to year accept that in some years they will have to work a bit harder in the vineyard, make less wine or none at all to remain true to themselves and their region. The thinking is is that chaptalization “levels” the vintage variations often seen in chilly-weather zones eliminating the kind of seasonsal variations that make this or that wine what it is year to year, even if this means making a “lesser” wine. The argument goes that taking the first step toward cahptalization is a slippery slope that next allows for acidification, tannin reduction, alcohol reduction, artificial color enhancements, and eventually even to the heartbreak of psoriasis. Those who actually DO admit to using the practice claim that it simply levels the playing field by allowing them to make “good vintage” wines that winemakers in Puglia or Provence can make nearly every year…

This debate rages on, and it is unlikely that any clear correctness or error will ever be definitively assigned to the actions of either camp, but hey, at least we now all know what chaptalization means, why it is used, and perhaps most importantly, that winemaking is not NEARLY as romantic as it might first seem…just ask the world renowned vigneron as he dumps 5 pound bag after five pound bag of granulated Dominos sugar into the 70-year-old-vine juice that he’s been selling for 11 successive vintages for over $60 a bottle…

TOM CIOCCO