A Report From Wine Explorer Diego Samper – The Secret Sauce Behind Great Wine
Everyone thinks their version is the right one.
Mac & cheese in the U.S.? Silk and nostalgia for some. Sharp cheddar with a crust that cracks under your fork for others. In France, they slip in Gruyère, a nutty Alpine cheese. In Italy, it turns into pasta al forno, closer to lasagna than casserole. And in some places? The prepacked box with powdered sauce is good enough.
Everywhere you go, food bends to memory, pride, or convenience. Each dish becomes a manifesto. Wine isn’t any different.
Blending has always been part of the story. In Bordeaux, it defines the map itself. On the Left Bank, cabernet sauvignon dominates, giving structure and power. On the Right Bank, merlot leads, softening edges and bringing fruit. Same river, same tradition. Two philosophies of balance.
Take the 2015 Beau-Site Haut-Vignoble from the Left Bank, which we have in stock. Ten years in bottle, aged beautifully. Fifty-five percent cabernet sauvignon for backbone, forty percent merlot for fruit, five percent petit verdot for spice. The way Médoc has done it for centuries.
And Bordeaux isn’t alone. In Champagne, nearly every bottle is a blend. One of the purest expressions is a blanc de blancs — a sparkling wine made entirely from chardonnay, bright and elegant by design. The Robert Grand Pierre Blanc de Blancs we offer is exactly that.
Argentina has its own voice in this tradition. The 2020 Adentro Gran Nevado Malbec-Merlot shows why Argentina blends too — malbec’s dark fruit sharpened and smoothed by merlot’s plush texture.
Merlot itself is one of the most versatile grapes on earth. It can play lead, as on Bordeaux’s Right Bank, delivering richness and fruit. Or it can play rhythm, softening cabernet’s stern edge or giving malbec a silkier frame. It adapts, complements, holds the whole together. That is why it is in so many great wines, even if it rarely gets the credit.
One man who knew that better than most is Jean-Claude Berrouet. For decades he was the winemaker at Pétrus, perhaps the most famous merlot-based wine in the world. A single bottle of Pétrus from a great vintage can fetch thousands of dollars. It is considered the benchmark of what merlot can be when given the stage.
Today Berrouet consults in Mendoza, Argentina, where he helped create Tapiz’s Las Notas de Jean Claude 2018. It is a blend of sixty-nine percent merlot, twenty-two percent cabernet franc, eight percent cabernet sauvignon, and one percent petit verdot. The wine scored ninety-six points and shows how Bordeaux wisdom translates into the Andes. Structured, perfumed, and layered, it carries Berrouet’s fingerprint: balance above all.
I have seen winemakers work on blends. It can take hours, with rows of glasses, notes scribbled, measurements repeated. For boutique producers, the kind we work with, it is a crucial part of the job. Smaller volumes mean every choice shows in the final bottle. They know their fruit, the character of each plot, the way one barrel leans toward perfume while another brings weight. Watching it happen is a lesson in patience and judgment. Later, when you taste the finished bottle, you see exactly why it matters.
Most blends happen this way, after fermentation. Wines are made separately, aged on their own, then tested in different proportions until the balance appears. But sometimes you will see a bottle marked co-fermented.
That means the grapes went into the vat together from the start, skins and juice mixing as they ferment. It is bold, a little reckless, and I am always intrigued. When it works, the flavors feel more seamless, like they were meant for each other from the beginning.
In the U.S., for example, a wine can be called cabernet sauvignon if it is at least seventy-five percent cabernet sauvignon. In much of Europe, the bar is eighty-five percent. The rest of the bottle can be other grapes, added to soften, sharpen, deepen the color, or lift the aroma. And if it is imported, you will often find the exact percentages printed on the back label. That “pure malbec” you love? It might carry a quiet chorus of cabernet franc or bonarda. Perfectly legal. Often better for it.
Which proves the point. Almost every great wine, even when labeled as one grape, is in some way a blend.
California shows it too. Winemakers there mix cabernet, merlot, syrah, zinfandel, even petite sirah. Not because they must, but because the result reflects the region better. Sometimes rich, sometimes fresh. Blending lets the place speak. It can be a signature, the mark of a vineyard or a winemaker’s hand.
We already understand this instinctively in food. Mac & cheese is rarely just one cheese. Barbecue rubs are nothing but blends of salt, sugar, spice, smoke. Nobody questions it. Everyone knows flavors get better when they play off each other. Wine is no different. The recipe is just hidden in the bottle.
And here is the truth. Blends are some of my favorite wines. Because why not? You get more depth, more story, more surprise.
So try one of these: the Beau-Site 2015 from Bordeaux’s Left Bank, the Robert Grand Pierre Blanc de Blancs Champagne, the Adentro Gran Nevado Malbec-Merlot from Argentina, or the Tapiz Las Notas de Jean Claude 2018 from Mendoza. Each shows a different side of the same truth.
Next time you stir a pot or bake your family’s mac & cheese, open one. Notice how the flavors echo each other. The spice of cabernet franc against the heat of a dish. The plush merlot against the cream.
That is when wine stops being just a drink and becomes part of the story. Not a polished, perfect story, but one with edges, mistakes, choices. A story of patience, and of knowing when to add and when to hold back.
The secret sauce behind every great meal, and every great bottle.
Diego Samper
Wine Explorer
