
Sauvignon Blanc
Few white grape varieties have enjoyed the sheer populist success of Sauvignon Blanc. With its unmistakable aromatic punch, bright acidity, and breezy drinkability, it has long been the darling of pub wine lists, garden parties, and supermarket shelves. For many, it’s a dependable, refreshing go-to — the crisp white that never offends and often delights. A real crowd-pleaser, in both the best and worst senses of the word.
Nowhere is this popularity more evident than in New Zealand’s Marlborough, where the style has become practically a brand unto itself: bold, tropical, herbaceous, and utterly unmistakable. A glass of Kiwi Sauv Blanc is, for many, as reassuring as a freshly ironed shirt. And yet, for others, it has become precisely the opposite — a shrill, over-perfumed caricature of itself. There’s a growing number of drinkers who actively avoid it, citing sensory fatigue and a desire for something with a little more poise.
In my view, the most balanced example of the type is the ‘standard’ Dog Point Sauvignon Blanc. For those a little braver, the barrel-fermented and oak-aged Kiwi Sauvignons are fascinating — such as Greywacke Wild Sauvignon, Cloudy Bay Te Koko, and Dog Point Section 94.
The dry white wines of Bordeaux, particularly from appellations like Pessac-Léognan and Graves, offer a different take: more restrained, more nuanced, and often blended with a splash of Sémillon, which adds texture, depth, and longevity. These wines exhibit citrus, gentle herbal notes, and minerality, rather than the green pepper and passionfruit fireworks of their New World cousins. They're more classical string quartet, less electric guitar. And yet, oddly, they remain underappreciated. Part of the issue is labelling, as “Sauvignon Blanc” rarely appears front and centre, if at all. Many simply don’t realise that these elegant, food-friendly wines are made from the same grape as their Marlborough mainstay. Château Couhins Blanc is one such example which offers great quality for a very agreeable price.
For those seeking Sauvignon Blanc in its most classically expressive form, the Loire Valley remains essential drinking. From the steely finesse of Sancerre and the flinty precision of Pouilly-Fumé to the racier examples from Menetou-Salon and Reuilly, Loire Sauvignon is where the grape trades noise for nuance. These wines are typically unoaked, mineral, and built around structure rather than swagger. Pascal Jolivet’s Sancerre, which I find a joy — and being the most affordable in his range — is a smart, friendly buy.
Beyond the Loire and Bordeaux, Sauvignon Blanc finds successful expression in a handful of other thoughtful regions. In Northern Italy, particularly in Friuli, the grape is given a cool, linear frame, often with a touch of Alpine lift. In Margaret River, it is usually blended with Sémillon to create a bright, citrus-driven style with lovely purity. And in South Africa, particularly in the Cape’s cooler pockets, one finds an emerging style — less boisterous than Marlborough, yet full of verve and intention.
In short, Sauvignon Blanc may be a grape of two halves: one flamboyant and extroverted, the other quieter but infinitely more sophisticated. The former gets the fanfare; the latter deserves more attention.