Essence [es–uh ns] : The basic, real, and invariable nature of a thing; the intrinsic nature or indispensable quality of something, especially something abstract, that determines its character.
In its most raw form, this “indispensable quality” that determines Champagne’s character is a word that has floated around and is used quite a bit (at times too much) in the wine industry: terroir. And indeed, most Champagne producers, whether they are proud growers with a handful of hectares or winemakers at larger Champagne houses, will state that the unmistakable essence of Champagne is its unique soil, microclimate, location, and the highly specific set of circumstances that exists only in this region of France, and in the world.
However, I believe there has to be something more to Champagne than the ongoing discussion of terroir. Of course, terroir is incredibly and undeniably important – no doubt about it. But, in a sense, isn’t it the easy way out when asked: “What is the true essence of Champagne?”
Yes, there must be something more than just terroir when people write, think, and talk about Champagne.
For me, the essence of Champagne is carried within the Champagne drinker. It is the ethereal and the indescribable, ever so present but often goes unsaid.
When I think about this quiet essence, I’m reminded of the works of Ernest Hemingway and the importance of what was left unuttered in so many of his works, yet understood by the reader. In his style of writing, called the iceberg theory or the theory of omission, Hemingway gave his readers just a snippet of what was happening and intentionally omitted what lies beneath, which leads the reader down an endless path of wonderful possibilities. In his own words, Hemingway stated on one occasion:
“I never set down a sentence on paper until I have it so expressed that it will be clear to anyone. Yet, I sometimes think that my style is suggestive rather than direct. The reader must often use his imagination or lose the most subtle part of my thoughts. I take great pains with my work, pruning and revising with a tireless hand. I have the welfare of my creations very much at heart. I cut them with infinite care, and burnish them until they become brilliants. “
In Death in the Afternoon, he reiterates his theory:
“If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an ice-berg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water.”
You might be thinking – where is she going with all of this?
It’s simple: Maybe, just maybe, the true essence of Champagne is implicit in every glass and shines through no matter who the producer is, what the style is, or what region within Champagne it is from. The tip of the iceberg is the knowledge we already have about Champagne – its history, the terroir, the producers, all of which can be researched and read.
But the essence of Champagne never makes it into any tome, wine article, or tasting note. The essence lies beneath the surface and is in fact the bulk of the iceberg, unspoken and unyielding for centuries.