Gamay, an often misunderstood and maligned grape, is, for me, one of life’s greatest pleasures. It’s the kind of grape that makes me want to skip down the street (and without doubt has at some point) with its juicy, energetic and utterly joyful character.
Gamay definitely comes with a certain underdog charm, and I love an underdog. I’m also quite partial to a debate, and few wine debates get me more fired up than when someone tells me they ‘don’t like Beaujolais.’ It’s akin to the old ‘I don’t like chardonnay’ trope, an open invitation for me to dive in and attempt to change their mind. Armed with facts, I’ll happily explain how Beaujolais has long outgrown the Nouveau fad of the ’70s and ’80s, how it’s capable of producing everything from light, juicy bistro bottles to complex, age-worthy fine wines.
A great gamay bursts with vibrant red fruit, think cherries, raspberries, and cranberries
But sometimes, all I crave is that fresh, easy-drinking, fruit-forward gluggability that gamay delivers like no other. One of my favourite ways the French describe gamay is ‘croquant,’ which literally translates to ‘crunchy’. It’s an instantly evocative term that perfectly captures the juicy, fruity, and mouthwatering freshness that makes gamay so addictive. A great gamay bursts with vibrant red fruit, think cherries, raspberries, and cranberries sometimes with an underlying streak of minerality or spice.
You can’t talk about gamay without talking about food. With its lively acidity and low tannins, gamay is one of the most versatile grapes around. And while you most certainly can enjoy gamay without food, for me it is the ultimate lunchtime wine. In an era where moderation matters, gamay fits the bill perfectly with its generally natural lower alcohols. It’s perfect slightly chilled on a hot summer’s day, but it’s also my go-to summer Sunday roast wine out on the terrace. It works beautifully with food, from charcuterie to roast chicken to slightly spiced dishes.
Gamay is one of the best grapes for showcasing terroir. In its spiritual home of Beaujolais, it is possible to grasp how the soil influences the style of the wine. Just this week at our Beaujolais growers tastings in York and London, we tasted 33 different Beaujolais gamays, spanning from Saint- Amour in the north to the Terres Dorées Beaujolais-Villages examples in the south. Members approached me, amazed by the stylistic differences between the wines. From powerful and structured to delicate and floral, gamay has an extraordinary ability to express its origins in the glass.
gamay is a grape with serious potential, endless charm, and most importantly, the ability to bring sheer happiness with every sip.
And while Beaujolais is gamay’s spiritual home, it’s worth keeping an eye out for incredible examples from the Loire Valley, particularly from Touraine and Anjou. These wines still deliver that signature juicy joy but often come with an added floral lift and again at fantastic value.
So, if you’ve never given gamay a fair shot, or if you’ve written it off as just a fun, gluggable wine, I encourage you to explore beyond the surface. gamay is a grape with serious potential, endless charm, and most importantly, the ability to bring sheer happiness with every sip.
