The Nation in a Glass

The 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence has arrived. As historians will rightly spend the time examining the events, ideas, and personalities that shaped the nation, wine lovers have another way to trace the American story - by looking at what was in the glass. Over the last two and a half centuries, the wines Americans celebrated, collected, imported, and eventually produced themselves have reflected the country's changing fortunes, ambitions, and identity. Looking back through 250 years of wine history reveals a nation whose tastes evolved dramatically while its curiosity about the wider world remained remarkably constant.

We've explored Madeira's relationship with the Founding Fathers before, and the surviving records confirm its extraordinary popularity in the early republic. Yet what I find equally fascinating is everything that appears alongside it; Washington's accounts include Madeira as well as Port, Claret (early British term for Bordeaux), and Champagne; Jefferson's famously detailed records document purchases from Bordeaux, Burgundy, Champagne, Hermitage and other Rhône wines, the Italian states, and the Rhine; Franklin's Diplomatic years in France fostered a lasting appreciation for French wine. Long before the United States produced notable wines of its own, its political leaders were already drinking internationally.

As the country expanded westward and accumulated wealth, Champagne increasingly became the wine of celebration and aspiration in America's growing cities. Imported  bottles appeared with growing frequency at banquets and private dining rooms, status symbols of a nation becoming more confident in its place on the world stage and what defined luxury.  By the time of the Gilded Age, Champagne had become intertwined with the rituals of America's emerging elite, a world later captured in the fiction of Edith Wharton. Even Sherry entered the literary realm and embedded in American cultural awareness that Edgar Allan Poe could build “The Cask of Amontillado” around the promise of a rare Sherry and trust his readers to understand the temptation.

Yet while Americans looked to European wines as a symbol of sophistication, a domestic wine culture was beginning to take shape. Along the Ohio River, Nicholas Longworth built a thriving wine business centered on sparkling wines made from the native Catawba grape. His bottlings attracted national attention and even earned praise abroad. They became sufficiently well known that Henry Wadsworth Longfellow celebrated Catawba in his 1854 poem “Ode to Catawba Wine”.

By the nation's centennial, California's vineyards expanded rapidly as immigrants brought vines and knowledge from Europe's great wine regions to the west coast, while railroads connected western vineyards to eastern consumers. By the turn of the twentieth century, California had become the center of the burgeoning American wine production and appeared poised for an even brighter future.

Then came Prohibition.

The Eighteenth Amendment remains one of the most disruptive events in wine history. Vineyards were abandoned, wineries closed, and generations of accumulated knowledge were lost. Yet the industry never disappeared entirely. While Prohibition outlawed the commercial production of intoxicating beverages; Americans continued purchasing fresh grapes and grape concentrates for home “juicing” use. When I worked for Gallo, I heard the story of how some manufacturers became famous for their warning labels explaining what consumers should avoid doing if they wished to prevent grape concentrate from mysteriously fermenting – wink wink. . .  A small number of wineries survived through the production of sacramental wine for religious institutions, preserving fragments of the industry until Repeal in 1933.

The decades following Repeal were devoted largely to rebuilding. Sweet wines and inexpensive blends dominated much of the market, but beneath the surface a quality revolution was taking shape. New plantings of Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay, improved vineyard practices, and the ambitions of a new generation of vintners steadily transformed American wine. We've explored the Judgment of Paris before, but its significance lies less in the tasting itself than in what it represented: by 1976, American wine had earned a place on the world's stage.

The last fifty years have been defined by unprecedented choice. Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon became a global luxury category and Oregon established itself among the world's premier Pinot Noir regions. Washington State, Virginia, Texas, and other emerging regions expanded the American wine map. The era was shaped not only by vineyards but by influential figures who helped redefine America's relationship with wine. Robert Mondavi championed the idea that American wines could stand alongside the world's best, while Julia Child helped generations of Americans view wine not as something intimidating or reserved for special occasions, but as a natural companion to food and conversation. Today, wine lovers can move from grower Champagne to Assyrtiko, Grüner Veltliner, or volcanic Sicilian reds with remarkable ease. Sustainability, regenerative farming, and site expression now shape many of the industry's most important conversations.

The Founders whose cellars held Madeira, Port, and Claret would likely be astonished by today's shelves, stocked with everything from grower Champagne to Oregon Pinot Noir, Washington State Merlot, and sparkling wine from England. The bottles have changed. The curiosity and delight have not changed - two hundred and fifty years later, that seems worth raising a glass to!