The barn here in Sonoma faces west, and around five o'clock in summer the light gets long enough that Susan and I take our pours out to the porch. Almost always a white, lately. We are not alone in that. By most measures I have seen, global white wine consumption ticked up about three percent in 2024 while red slipped by roughly the same amount, and a number of US retailers reported a 52/48 white-to-red split last year for the first time in a long while. The world is drinking lighter. So before I tell you what I keep on the porch table, let me walk through the whites a 60+ reader is likely to see on the shelf, what they actually taste like, and what has changed since 2021.
The two that hold the room
Chardonnay is still the queen of white wine by volume, and there is nothing wrong with that. The grape is forgiving, ripens reliably, and takes on the personality of where it grows. A Chablis from northern Burgundy is steely and almost saline. A Macon-Villages an hour south is rounder, more pear and honeysuckle. A Russian River Chardonnay, the producers I used to ride with in the late 90s, leans into stone fruit and a kiss of oak. If you ever tried Chardonnay in the 1990s and decided you did not care for it, give it another pour. The heavy, butter-bomb style that scared so many people off has been retreating for years. Most producers worth their salt now use oak with restraint, and a lot of California Chardonnay tastes closer to white Burgundy than it used to. Pairs with roast chicken, halibut, anything in cream sauce.
Sauvignon Blanc is the wine that quietly took over. Direct-to-consumer shipments were up around 18 percent in volume and 26 percent in value over the past year, which is a rare kind of growth in this business. There are two camps. The Loire style, Sancerre and Pouilly-Fume, is flinty, gooseberry, a little smoky, food-friendly the way a good knife is food-friendly. The New Zealand style, mostly Marlborough, is louder, with that famous passionfruit and cut-grass character. Neither is wrong. I keep a Sancerre on hand for poached fish and a Marlborough bottle around for goat cheese, summer salads, or the occasional Thai takeout.
The two everyone has heard of
Riesling is still misunderstood in this country, and that is a shame because the dry German Rieslings of the last ten years are some of the best whites you can buy for the money. Look at the label for the word trocken, which means dry. A Mosel or Rheingau trocken Riesling is lean, mineral, with green apple and lime, and it ages beautifully. Sweeter styles are labeled Kabinett, Spatlese, Auslese in ascending order, and a good Kabinett with a little residual sugar is the right answer for spicy food, full stop. Riesling also grows well in the Finger Lakes of New York, Washington's Columbia Valley, and Australia's Clare Valley. Versatile producer-to-producer.
Pinot Grigio is the wine your sister-in-law orders at Olive Garden, and most of the bottles that built that reputation deserve to be poured out. But Pinot Gris from Alsace, or a serious Pinot Grigio from Friuli or Alto Adige in northeastern Italy, is a different animal entirely. More texture, more fruit, a little spice. Look for producers like Jermann, Livio Felluga, or anything from the Trimbach family in Alsace. Pair with prosciutto, light pasta, or a simple piece of grilled fish.
The three I think you should try
These are not new wines, but they have been climbing fast enough in the last few years that I would call them required reading.
- Albarino from the Rias Baixas region of northwest Spain. Production in Spain has more than doubled in the last decade, and you can find a perfectly good bottle for fifteen dollars. Saline, citrus, a faint almond note. Made for shellfish. If you live near any coast in the US, this is your summer porch wine.
- Gruner Veltliner from Austria. White pepper, green apple, a little lentil-like savory thread that makes it shockingly food-friendly. Sometimes shows up in a one-liter bottle with a crown cap, which I find charming. Try it with schnitzel, roast pork, or a quiche.
- Assyrtiko from the Greek island of Santorini. Volcanic soil, bone dry, lemon and wet stone, the kind of acidity that makes you sit up. Comparable to Chablis in its mineral spine. Pair with grilled fish or a Greek salad in late summer.
The two for the curious
Chenin Blanc is one of the most underrated grapes in the world. The Loire Valley appellations of Vouvray, Savennieres, and Montlouis make Chenin in every style from bone-dry to dessert-sweet, and a good dry Vouvray will age twenty years on a basement floor. South Africa also does Chenin very well, often labeled Steen on older bottles, with rounder tropical fruit. Pair with anything mildly spicy, chicken in mustard sauce, or a soft cheese plate.
Gewurztraminer is the white I do not pull out often, but when I do it is for a specific reason. The aroma is unmistakable: lychee, rose petal, a little ginger. It is at its best with Alsatian or Thai food, foie gras if that is your thing, or strong washed-rind cheese. A little goes a long way, which is why a bottle in the door of the refrigerator can last weeks.
Pinot Blanc, briefly
Pinot Blanc has spent its life being compared to Chardonnay, which is unfair. It is its own grape, lighter, apple and almond, often with a faint smoky note. The best ones I have had came from Alsace producers like Albert Mann or Marcel Deiss. Drink it young, do not bother cellaring it. Good for an apertif or a simple weeknight roast chicken.
A note on what has changed since this article was first written
Five years ago the conversation around white wine was still mostly Chardonnay versus Sauvignon Blanc, with Pinot Grigio as the third option. Today, importers are bringing in serious volumes of Albarino, Assyrtiko, and Gruner Veltliner. There is also a small but persistent fashion for what people call orange wine, which is white grapes fermented on their skins. I find most of them oxidative and a bit much, though Friuli makes a few worth tasting. Hard seltzer crossed with wine had its moment too; I will not be drinking any. The good news for a reader your age and mine is that real, well-made white wine from honest producers is more available, in more styles, at more price points, than at any other time in my career.
How I would shop
Walk into a real wine shop, not a supermarket aisle. Ask the person behind the counter for a dry Riesling under twenty dollars, or an Albarino, or a Gruner. Tell them what you ate last night. A good shop will sell you a fifteen-dollar bottle that outperforms a ninety-dollar one, and you will leave knowing one more producer than you walked in with. Buy two bottles of anything you like and put the second in the refrigerator door for next week. White wine rewards keeping a small rotation, not stockpiling. Drink with food, drink with people, and pay no mind to what the magazines tell you is fashionable this season.