©Wikimedia/Geoff Wong

Quite often, I fall into a weird, insecure panic as the third Thursday of November approaches. 

It’s the day that the dreaded Beaujolais Nouveau is released, and I am torn. Do I commemorate the day with a glass of overpriced raspberry vinegar that has no business being wine just yet? Or do I ignore it completely and stick to my beloved $7 happy hour Hallertau at Conch?

In the last few years, a new (and much less stressful) third option has emerged. Beaujolais Nouveau is not the only wine made in the rolling hills to the south of Burgundy, and the Beaujolais cru wines have been crawling their way into the spotlight, and many a wine fan’s glass, over the last few years. 

Beaujolais cru wines have become the thinking woman’s tipple for Beaujolais Day in November. These light but earthy red wines are perfect for this time of the year, as the days begin to reach well into the evening and the air still has a touch of bite. They pair perfectly with barbecued sausages, the smell of musty deckchairs just unearthed from their winter hibernation in the garage, and the feel of your favourite sweatshirt. 

Like most French wines, the Beaujolais laws require a little concentration to understand. The standard Beaujolais appellation covers the most basic wines made in the area, and the Beaujolais Villages appellation covers wines made to slightly higher specifications. Then there are the ten cru appellations, which each cover a small village within the Beaujolais region. 

Some of these villages, like Morgon, Fleurie and Moulin-a-Vent are reasonably well-known, and others, like Regnie and Chiroubles, are a little more B list. This isn’t to say they’re not as good — French wines that are easy to pronounce in English tend to do better in terms of fame, which is perhaps why chardonnay is so much more well-known than viognier.

Gamay, the grape variety that goes into all Beaujolais wines, was banished from the pinot noir-loving hills of Burgundy in the 14th century and took up residence in the granite-rich countryside just south of the prestigious appellation. This was a fortuitous development — it turns out gamay is much better suited to this terroir, and in the ten villages makes light wines with red fruit flavours like raspberry and sour cherry, and a touch of earthy minerality. 

Each of the Beaujolais cru wines have their own distinctive flavour profile. Those from Morgon and Chiroubles tend to be more robust and full-bodied (relatively speaking), while wines from Fleurie and Julienas are lighter and more ethereal, and wholly more complex and interesting than the Beaujolais and Beaujolais Nouveau wines. 

Beaujolais cru wines are increasingly available in New Zealand, particularly from specialist wine shops. They can be expensive (and it’s a particular rub if you’ve just been drinking them in France for €5 a pop), but they are worth trying, particularly as an alternative to Marlborough pinot noir. 

Whether it’s from cut crystal or a boot you fished out of a pond, there’s no one right way to drink bubbles. Live your truth.

From a flute: Congratulations! You’ve conformed. Flutes are designed for fizzy beverages by limiting the surface area. This means that there is less area for the fizz to escape from, keeping everything sparkling for a bit longer. Often a nice flute will have a small line engraved at the bottom of the glass, to ensure there is a pleasing line of bubbles rising from the bottom at all times.

From a regular wine glass:This is the one that wine nerds will swear by, and insist you use when you go to their house and get given some ridiculous glass of amphora-aged pet nat orange bullshite. But actually, these wines benefit from the same things that make these glasses great for regular wines — you can swirl with gay abandon, you can shove your nose right in there to smell the aromas and not accidentally snort wine up your nose (if this has never happened to you while tasting you’re a god damn liar). Plus it somehow makes sparkling wine into a wine that is ripe for everyday drinking, rather than something that you can only have when something good happens.

From a coupe: On paper, these glasses are crap for drinking sparkling wine out of— fizz dissipates quickly because of the surface area, and try walking a metre without sloshing that shit everywhere. But there is no other beverage and no other kind of glass that will make you feel as glamorous as when you are drinking champagne out of a coupe (note: this is only true of dry land — the second you take any wine into the sea or a pool, that will immediately become the most glamorous you’ve ever been).

From a teacup with saucer: This is twee af, admittedly, but you can’t tell me you wouldn’t be immediately charmed if you showed up at a garden party or a baby shower and the host handed you a cup and a saucer with a fizzy bounty inside. A ceramic vessel is going to be just as suitable for wine as a glass in terms of having a neutral aroma, and the saucer will provide a very handy spot to put your napkin. There’s nothing worse than being at a party clutching a glass in one hand and a spent skewer in the other.

From a plastic cup: Sparkling wine will still be delicious sparkling wine if you drink it out of a plastic cup. They say the best tasting wines are the ones you have on the best occasions, so by that logic, a cup filled with your favourite Champagne should be the best thing you’ve ever had in your life if you’re sitting on the beach with your boo on a still evening watching the sun go down. And if you’re drinking it while standing squashed up in a hallway at someone’s house party, that’s cool too.

From the bottle: Get it gurl.