I’m afraid of Romanée-Conti: A lone sommelier’s stupid crusade by Nikolai Kuklenko

Hello there, my name is Nikolai and I am the sommelier at the best restaurant in the universe. It is called Mana, it is in Manchester, and has held One Michelin Star since 2019. Early this year I removed all Burgundy from my list, and overall have thought this to be a very good decision.

Firstly, I think it’s important to note that I only have love for the wines of Burgundy. I mostly love them when someone else is paying – that is when all wine tastes best, of course. While this piece is about why I think it is important to not always include Burgundy on a wine list, and also why I think it is an area of wine that should be omitted from lists more, I truly believe that in terms of quality and sheer pleasure in wine, all roads lead there...

...THAT BEING SAID

Burgundy is dead expensive. Really expensive. A lot of people are still claiming it’s not ‘too’ expensive. I disagree. There has to be a point as wine professionals where we call bullshit on constantly heightening prices – especially when they are so alarmingly substantial.

Secondary market has dropped recently, yes, but en-prim has remained or increased rapidly in the last few years, for example mad increase of, say ’16-’23, where Burgundy increased in price by nearly 600% - compared to the liv-ex 100 (London Vintners’ Exchange monitoring system for the most sought-after 100 bottles on the secondary market), which only increased by 250%). Burgundy is becoming reserved for those who can afford to not care about these facts. I am not one of these people. This is all without taking into account restaurant margins. 70% GP is an average restaurant margin – some aim higher, some lower. This does not account for all restaurants, and at a point (when the cost of a bottle is very very high) we work on cash margin. Yes, this is boring, but it matters. This means 70% of the price you see on a wine list is profit. You’re paying £100? The restaurant, on average, paid £30. This seems steep, but keeps the lights on, the staff paid and fed and clothed and watered and loved and all the rest of it. It also means that if the bottle is fucked, we absorb the cost and you get another go. There are a million reasons why that margin is important and reasonable, don’t worry about it too much. It is, at the crux of it all, essential for us to have the luxury of having restaurants to go to. We all want that. 

However, this means that suddenly your Burgundy is starting at £80, whereas a £45 Chablis on any list five years ago was a staple you could rely on. Like the shipping forecast or Terry Wogan or Camel Blues. This reality is slimmening (yes, slimmening) by the day, it seems. 

To put it bluntly, I am just a bit sick of charging people £350 for a wine that just shouldn’t be that much. For some reason that is a highly controversial statement. I am unsure as to why.

Mana is, to me, one of the most exciting restaurants I have ever stepped foot in, let alone worked in. The great mad engine of the kitchen whips and cracks at the strange and the challenging with a curious ease. The food is not food you would find elsewhere. The food is, as a rule, difficult to pair with wine. The food can be challenging to eat. It can have a point, something to say. I have found, in my experience, that this philosophy of curiosity that the restaurant slices through the jungle with has been a guiding tenet for the list. Yes, you can be curious with Burgundy, of course you can, but who cares? We all know it’s good. We know that. We proved it in tests. All the tests – flying colours! Who cares? For me, the idea of someone coming to you for a recommendation on wine and you just saying what could easily be an AI response is pointless. And please don’t think this is me leading into a recommendation on natural wine. While I respect my cohorts and colleagues that dabble in the natural, I myself think the current slew of natural wine is akin to a war crime. No, there are amazing, weird and wonderful alternatives in conventional, classical wine that mean that for once we can actually not just play into the hands of a market designed to fuck us.

I recently interviewed a very accomplished, high-profile sommelier for a position at Mana. A person whose knowledge I will never know, a person I have respect leaning into reverence for. This person’s main criticism of our wine list was that it wasn’t commercial enough (they actually said those words), it was unrecognisable to the common drinker, and lacked love for classic regions. This is a searing compliment. If I need to write a wine list that disagrees with the established order of sommelier practice, just to actually have a conversation with my guests, then fine – I will die on that hill. To lose sight of that curiosity that is bred so fervently around me at Mana would be the death of all fun and quality in that room.

Speaking of recent conversations, as I write this I have just enjoyed a tasting with the legendary Ray Nadeson of Lethbridge wines in Victoria, Australia. He and Maree Collis create over 50 different wines, among which their Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs are truly world class. He, with nothing but humility and love for Burgundy, fondly recounted a recent tasting whereby his 2016 Allegra Chardonnay was placed up against a 2010 Coche-Dury Meursault in a blind and most agreed that it was, in fact, the better wine. Now, this is, of course, a single example, and a tiny group of people deciding this, but behave. Behave please. Right now I can buy a bottle of 2016 Allegra for about £55, whereas the 2010 Coche-Dury is, according to winesearcher, averaging £1,028 a bottle. Yes, both Coche-Dury and Meursault are iconic, amazing, historic names in wine. Yes. But for £900, who actually cares? This disparity is not a rare thing to find anymore, and if you know where to look, you can satiate the need for something Burgundian without having to pander to the pricing. The idea that one region in France should have a complete monopoly on Pinot and Chard is absurd, the world is teeming with wines that love their Burgundian heritage but that now have so much else to say as well, and they are considered second-rate to their French friends. The wines of Victoria, of Tasmania or Central Otago, Willamette, Sonoma, the Russian River Valley. Essex, for fucks sake, is producing some of the most interesting still wines ever produced in England. Wines that are gastronomic and suited to age and interesting and new and exciting. Fucking Essex! Wine that, pound for pound can hold itself against some serious serious Burgundy is being made just outside of Chelmsford. Who wouldn’t want to try that over some Puligny that we all know is good, for a fraction of the price? Well, lots of people. That’s why the price is rising. 

All I know is this:

Burgundy is the most important wine region in the world. The history of terroir-driven excellence, gastronomic brilliance and a reverent obsession with sheer hedonistic pleasure is unrivalled compared to anywhere else in the world. Sadly, it is during my time as a sommelier when the price required to access this world has become something aimed at the few, and not the many. This means that now it is our opportunity (and, I think, our duty) to explore, to challenge, and to overcome the pure and utter silliness that has been created by collectors and oligarchs. Our love for Burgundy must not diminish, but our willingness to turn a blind eye to the prices must. Let the collectors and oligarchs have their Burgundy, and let our imagination and knowledge and passion lead us to wines less travelled. 

Until my final day at Mana, there will be no Burgundy on the list. I now open the floor to any questions. Thank you.