You never know with Burgundy, but the 2003s could be a bargain

If you love chardonnay and pinot noir, and hope to see what great versions of those wines taste like, you will sooner or later take a chance on a bottle or two of Burgundy. And like an infant touching a hot stove, you probably will get burned. So much for exploring.

Burgundy is the most demanding and rewarding, fascinating and frustrating wine region on the planet. Grand cru or premier cru Burgundies from great producers are expensive and in great demand. They usually are good but not always that good, especially when you've shelled out upwards of $100 a bottle. But occasionally some nice wines are made that carry modest appellations — the various Mâcons, Santenay, Mercurey or simple Bourgogne for that matter — and in certain vintages, they can be exceptionally good.

Vintages differ significantly, which is part of Burgundy's charm. It also is a source of much controversy in the press. Wine pundits such as Pierre Rovani and Steven Tanzer serve up their opinions based on wines that have barely stopped fermenting. Then the glossy wine magazines weigh in with sweeping pronouncements. If the scores are good, you can expect stupidly high prices for hard-to-find wines. If the scores are not so good, well, you still can expect stupidly high prices.

Then the vignerons send out their analysis of the vintage, which rarely is less than spectacular. But only when the wines begin to arrive in town, and your favorite retailer recommends something to try, can you see for yourself. This is more important than anything you might read, because if your retailer is any good, and most of them are, he or she will have tasted a wide variety of Burgundies from the current vintage. And the ones recommended will be well-made and well-priced and, best of all, actually available for purchase.

Recent vintages of Burgundy have been rather unusual. Maison Joseph Drouhin, one of the largest and most consistent in all of Burgundy, recently issued a commentary on vintages dating back to the mid-1980s. Because I know and like their wines, which tend to be lean, elegant and long-lived, I gave their rundown more than the usual quick glance.

Drouhin loved 2005, but we'll zip past that because those wines are off in the future. The 2004 vintage, whose white wines will start arriving this spring, is called "a good surprise." Meaning, the weather was cool and wet; hailstorms struck; and only a September burst of warm, dry weather saved things.

I've tasted a handful of Drouhin's 2004 white (chardonnay) wines and found them to be consistent with the house style. Still very young, tart and sleek, with characteristic snap and verve, they seemed to suggest that the vintage will bring wines that represent more of a return to the norm compared with the off-the-chart 2003s.

For both the white (chardonnay) and red (pinot noir) Burgundies, 2003 is a year of controversy. Unusually, extraordinarily, hot and dry, it produced the earliest harvest in 150 years. Writes Drouhin: "Sorting the grapes proved to be essential as some berries suffered damage from too much exposure to the sun. This 2003 vintage can also be called a 'kid glove' enterprise: supreme wisdom and delicate handling were the name of the game. It is therefore a vintage of extremes which will leave its mark on our whole generation since there is absolutely no reference to the past (except perhaps 1822!)."

Old as I am, I can't say I remember 1822, so I'll have to defer to Maison Drouhin on that point. But after tasting through a representative sample of white and red 2003 Burgundies, from simple Mercurey up to grand crus from Mugnier, Fougeray, Juillot and Roty among others, I came away with the feeling that this is a vintage for ordinary consumers to relish.

Why? Because the heat and extreme ripeness favored the less-prestigious sites. The parts of Burgundy that produce the cheaper wines — the Maconnais, Cote Chalonnaise and small villages in the Cote d'Or — were blessed with unusual ripeness. The grand-cru sites, which shine in ordinary years, seem to have struggled to retain their customary elegance and precision. Some great wines were made, but I found quite a few that seem to have lost their finesse. Some were too tannic, some too green, some ripened to the point of needing acid additions to adjust the balance.

My tasting of 2003s proved once again that Burgundy is never a sure thing. A Michel Juillot Mercurey blanc reeked of new oak and tasted like a bowl of tropical fruit — the style was Australian, not French. But the same winery's "Clos de Barraults" Mercurey was concentrated and mineral-streaked; the oak in abeyance, the finish kissed with hints of mint and cracker.

Gevrey-Chambertin, my go-to place for (semi-) affordable red Burgundy, was hit and miss. A G-C from Dufouleur was as dark and aromatic as syrah; rich with roasted smoky scents, stuffed with cherry-pie fruits that more than held up to the substantial tannins. But the J. Roty "Les Fontenys" G-C seemed simple and fruity with awkward flavors of vanilla and banana.

When the 2003s begin to arrive in force later this year, look for simple village wines and get your wine seller to point out a favorite chardonnay and pinot. It's an unusually good opportunity to sample good Burgundy at a budget price.

A Washington standout

for everyday wines

I frequently hear consumers comment that Washington wines are too expensive, and certainly you can find overpriced wines here, as you can anywhere in the world. What this state is a bit short on is widely available, well-made everyday wines at moderate prices.

Apart from the big corporate entities, no one does a better job of it than Waterbrook. This Walla Walla producer quietly puts out terrific wines with modest packaging and no fanfare. The new lineup of releases is sure-fire, but I especially like the 2004 Waterbrook chardonnay ($12) and viognier ($17). This latter offers lovely tangerine and tropical fruit flavors with none of the bitterness or excess alcohol that too many others show.

The reds are all good, especially the firm, smoky, tannic 2003 cabernet sauvignon ($21) and the 2004 syrah ($21), blended with a bit of grenache and viognier.

Paul Gregutt is the author of "Northwest Wines." His column appears weekly in the Food & Wine section. He can be reached by e-mail at wine@seattletimes.com.