There are two types of people in this world: people who do not, under any circumstance, drink chardonnay; and people who gravitate to it like somms to a Jura tasting. Okay, that may be a bit of an oversimplification. But I feel like we all know at least one of these personalities and, more often than not, it’s the former.
In fact, I know so many “anything but chardonnay” drinkers, I’m always surprised to learn that, year after year, chardonnay continues its reign as the most consumed white wine globally. Of course, this stat includes the myriad styles of chardonnay, even if our collective imagination pictures throngs of stereotypical oaky chard drinkers clinking glasses while snacking on sticks of butter. Indeed, for millions of fans, this style of white wine is almost a comfort beverage—plush, buttery and instantly recognizable. But for others, including the chard haters, it’s liquid déjà vu as a grape so over-oaked and overworked it tastes less like fruit and more like movie theater popcorn on toast.
But in Alto Adige, the high-altitude region tucked beneath the Dolomites in northern Italy, chardonnay transforms into something entirely unexpected—and the style deserves our attention. Forget candy corn and crème brulée. These wines are lean, mineral-driven and bright enough to jolt even the most skeptical palate awake. Taste one beside a California oak bomb, and, journalist and wine reviewer Emily Saladino points out in an email to me, “it would be understandable if you tasted these two styles of wine back to back and assumed they came from different grapes.”
Perhaps most excitingly, while many of these zingy alpine chardonnays carry the aging potential of some celebrated white Burgundies and other high-acid whites, they generally don’t come with the hefty price tags of those exalted wines.
Don’t Hate The Player, Hate The Game
For those who still cling to the “Anything But Chardonnay” mantra like it’s a badge of honor, it’s worth asking: Do you actually hate the grape—or do you just hate oak in your white wine? The latter seems far more likely. After all, most ABC drinkers I know are happily knocking back crisp, mineral-driven whites from regions like Chablis, Muscadet and other parts of Northern Italy.
A quick and informal poll on Instagram of my non-wine industry friends on what, specifically, they don’t like about chardonnay yielded fairly predictable comments. “It’s oily and buttery,” said one friend. “It’s too oaky,” said another, followed hilariously by “And too yellow.” My parents barely hesitated before collectively agreeing, “Too heavy.”
What’s interesting is that none of these characteristics actually refers to qualities inherent in the grape variety itself.
“In my experience, a lot of people in the U.S. tend to think of chardonnays as uniformly rich and buttery,” notes Saladino in an email. “And, for what it’s worth, it makes sense that folks have that impression because that style of Chardonnay is popular here—you see and taste it a lot! But Chardonnay is an expressive grape, and there are a ton of different styles made around the world.” Brittney Abell, wine director of Montclair, New Jersey wine retailer Grape Collective, offers another helpful way to think about the grape. “I make the comparison to potatoes: you can make them baked, fried, or mashed and they’re all very different,” she says in an email.
When it comes to chardonnay’s blank canvas (or raw potato) potential, the possibilities are nearly endless. “Chardonnay is one of those grapes that really tells the story of where it’s grown,” explains Marc Pfitscher, sales and marketing manager for Cantina Girlan, a historic cooperative in Südtirol for whom chardonnay has been a benchmark variety for many years “It makes a huge difference whether it’s on limestone at 1,000 feet in the Côte de Beaune, on sandstone at 500 feet in the Russian River, or on volcanic rock at 1,700 feet here in Girlan.”
When Misconceptions Persist
Of course, wine pros have been beating this drum for years: Not. All. Chardonnay. Is. Buttery. And yet, like the live lobster my husband and I once tried to cook in the most humane way possible that one time, the stereotype just won’t die.
Abell thinks there’s also the issue of trust. Consumers often assume that when a sommelier or writer says “not all Chardonnay tastes like this,” it’s just a pitch. A sales job in a different costume. Which means the only real way forward is proof in the glass.
As Abell admits in a text message to me, sometimes it takes a little subterfuge. “I have to force some Chardonnay in people’s hands. I also blind taste them. They have to try it without knowing what it is.” This is where a region-first approach can work. Lead with “crisp white from Northern Italy,” and let the glass do the rest.
Chardonnay With A View (Of The Dolomites)
For Pfitscher, the beauty of Alto Adige chardonnay comes down to a certain magic that happens when altitude, soil and cool, alpine climate collide. They grow the noble variety in two different sites—one at around 1,700 feet in volcanic porphyry soil and another at 1,500 feet in gravelly limestone. “From the porphyry soils, you get a more energetic, vibrant style—that’s what we call our Classici. From the limestone, the wines are more elegant, fine and with a denser texture—that’s our Marna,” he explains in an email, adding that they age their wines sur lie for texture and complexity and to ensure that the wines stay true to the mountain terroir.
Powerful diurnal shifts also add dimension. “The temperature difference between day and night can be as much as 20 degrees in autumn,” he says. “That really helps us build aromatic intensity, preserve bright acidity, and create wines with impressive longevity.”
But the story of chardonnay from Alto Adige isn’t just one of oak versus no oak. It’s actually a matter of having all of the right conditions to deliver on a great wine, no matter the style. This means that even the oak-kissed chardonnays from this mountain region deliver a distinctly non-stereotypical chardonnay experience. Eduard Bernhart, director of the Consorzio Alto Adige Wines, refers to this as “a distinctive Alpine minerality.” Indeed, there’s just something about these wines that evokes the feeling of standing on a snow-capped slope, sipping chilled mountain spring water…only in this case the water is really delicious white wine.
“Whether vibrant and fruit-driven or softly textured with layered complexity from oak aging, our Chardonnays offer a broad spectrum of expressions,” says Bernhart via email. “Thanks to our region’s unique Alpine-meets-Mediterranean climate and diverse soils, our wines consistently show a signature freshness and purity. Far removed from the overly-oaked, heavy styles that often turn people away, Alto Adige Chardonnays are defined by their precision, balance, and elegance, qualities that have surprised and converted many who thought they didn’t like Chardonnay at all.”
A Wine Glow-Up: Why Alto Adige Chardonnay’s Time Is Now
If there was ever a moment for Alto Adige chardonnay to step into the spotlight, it’s now. Across the wine world, palates are shifting toward fresher, lighter, more mineral-driven whites—the very thing Alto Adige has been nailing for decades. While the U.S. once glorified buttery oak bombs, today’s drinkers are reaching for wines that feel sleeker and more food-friendly. And suddenly, this little alpine region looks less like a niche curiosity and more like a bullseye.
Pfitscher has watched the shift firsthand. “In the last few years, especially in the U.S., we’ve seen a real rise in the popularity of white wines,” he says in an email. “People are looking for lighter, fresher styles—wines that are approachable and work well with food. And within that trend, Chardonnay still stands out for its versatility and broad appeal.” In other words, the market has finally caught up to what Alto Adige has been doing all along.
Bernhart agrees the timing is ideal. “The region’s remarkable diversity of Chardonnay styles, combined with the distinct minerality imparted by the Dolomites, allows our wines to stand out as an ideal response to the evolving preferences of today’s wine market.” Translation: while chardonnay elsewhere may be reinventing itself to match current tastes, Alto Adige simply has to keep being Alto Adige.
Where to Start: Five Wines With Altitude
A straight-shooting expression of Alto Adige chardonnay: crisp apple, lemon zest and a clean, mineral finish that feels tailor-made for weeknight dinners. Proof that chardonnay doesn’t need bells and whistles to impress.
From limestone-rich soils, this wine shows elegance and precision. Think white peach, subtle florals and a distinctive minerality that lingers. Structured enough to cellar, but irresistible right now.
A chardonnay with personality: tropical fruit layered over citrus and a salty, mouthwatering snap. Dense yet vibrant, it’s the kind of wine that pairs as easily with sushi as with roast chicken.
A luxurious and biodynamic take from one of my all-time favorite producers in the region. Blended with tiny equal percentages of viognier and sauvignon bland, it offers luscious fruit purity with a delicate kiss of oak. Ripe pear and golden apple meet wet stone, all wrapped in that trademark Alto Adige freshness.
The grande dame of Alto Adige chardonnay. Rich yet balanced, with layers of ripe tropical fruit, toasted hazelnut and a vein of minerality that keeps it precise. A cellar-worthy white that proves Alto Adige can go toe-to-toe with some of the world’s most serious chardonnays.