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the truth about Chardonnay 🥐
(a little wine, a little therapy, and a poll about butter.)
Happy Wine Wednesday!
I’m Megumi, a corporate escapee turned entrepreneur and sommelier, here to bring you sharp wine tips, no-bullshit thoughts on life in (and beyond) corporate America, and a woman-made wine you’ll be excited to pour & share.
Here’s what we’re drinking (and thinking) about this week:
Pour Decisions
Let’s talk about Chardonnay, one of the most flexible (and misunderstood!) grapes out there.
What was your reaction just now?
Eye roll at the “basic” white?
Flashback to a vanilla butter bomb?
Or maybe you pictured the Chablis you’re sipping right now. (In which case, I see you.)
Chardonnay gets a bad rep because it can taste wildly different - sometimes in the worst way (hi, mystery house white wine that screams hangover).
But that’s also what makes it so interesting.
Unlike other grapes, Chardonnay can thrive in a wide range of climates. Think of it like your one houseplant that doesn’t die if (or when) you forget to water it.
Here’s the deal:
Cool climates (like Chablis in Burgundy): Green fruit (think pear, apple), citrus, maybe cucumber
Warm climates (like California): Tropical notes like peach, pineapple, mango, maybe banana
The butter and vanilla?
That’s not the grape. It’s the winemaking.
Two techniques to know:
Malolactic fermentation (MLF): Converts tart malic acid (think green apple) to softer lactic acid (like milk), creating that buttery texture and flavor. Also referred to as malolactic conversion (MLC)
Oak exposure: Adds vanilla, toast, and spice
Think of it this way: MLF is the soft sweater. Oak is the perfume.
TL;DR:

So, how do you know which kind of Chardonnay you’re getting?
That’s where it gets tricky.
Winemakers don’t always label their techniques, so you have to read between the tasting notes.
Love it crispy, citrusy, and zero butter?
Go for Chablis (Burgundy, France). No oak, no MLF. Just clean, green fruit and minerality.
Or Mâcon. Still light, maybe a little melon.
Want some body, spice, but not a full butter bomb?
Try Meursault or Puligny-Montrachet (Burgundy). More rounded, more complexity. Less risk of melted movie theater popcorn.
Want butter in a glass?
Hello, California.
Look for words like: oak, vanilla, toast, creamy, spice
Example: Rombauer from Carneros, CA is a famous one. Or, as you can guess, Bread & Butter Wines (also from CA).
Pro tip:
If the tasting notes mention caramel, toast, or full body, odds are high you’re in butter territory.
Now tell me. What team are you on
Pick Your Chardonnay Team! |
Sip Happens
We’ve talked about how adaptable Chardonnay is. How it changes based on its environment, how winemakers shape it into what they want it to be. And still, someone will love it. Or hate it.
I argue with my husband about this all the time. He’s Team Butter Baby, and I’m Team Citrus Snap through and through. I tease him that his Chardonnay taste is giving “old white lady at brunch” energy.
But truly. This poor grape!
It keeps adjusting, bending, trying to please both the climate and the winemaker. And someone still complains.
Sound familiar?
I’ve been a people pleaser my whole life. Conflict-avoidant to my core. (I grew up in Japan, so… it might be in my DNA.)
I’ve tried to be chill in male-dominated startups, saying nothing when a coworker commented on what I was wearing or whether I was wearing makeup. I’ve tried to be more assertive with clients who blurred boundaries. I’ve tried to stand up for myself with walking red flags who called me “too sensitive.”
But no matter what I do, I’m going to disappoint someone. Sometimes it’s others. Often, it’s me.
Lately, I’ve been trying to disappoint fewer people by disappointing myself less.
That doesn’t mean I’m out here unhinged, throwing demands or dropping F-bombs in every client meeting (well…sometimes). It just means I’m learning to say what I mean. To feel what I feel. To stop apologizing for being who I am, even if the only person who hears it is me.
Even if it’s just taking 30 seconds after a garbage call to close your eyes, breathe, and remind yourself:
They don’t define me, my work, or my worth.
Because ladies…We are so adaptable.
But we cannot keep shapeshifting at the risk of losing ourselves.
So here’s your challenge for the week:
Do something so unapologetically, undeniably you.
Have a solo dance party. Pop a bottle and watch your “not guilty” pleasure. Or stay up late reading even if it makes tomorrow slower.
Whatever it is, as long as it’s for you.
If you’re open to it, reply and let me know what you chose. I’ll share a few in a future newsletter. You might inspire someone else to choose themselves too.
Cheers to Her
Spotlight on this week’s woman-owned or -made wine
Meet Christina Lopez, winemaker for Acquiesce Winery & Vineyards, Lodi’s only all-white wine estate. On the 18-acre property, owner and founding winemaker Susan Tipton grows Rhône varietals like Picpoul, Roussanne, and Grenache Blanc, all bottled without oak, additives, or ego. | ![]() |
Acquiesce also challenges what a “California wine” is supposed to be. As Christina puts it, “All white wines in zinfandel country, woman owned, varieties I’ve never heard of before. Just this general rebellious spirit.”
If you love a creamy, buttery Chardonnay? Christina recommends their Double Gold Medal-winning Roussanne: full-bodied and round, without a drop of oak. Prefer something bright and mineral like Chablis? Go for the Picpoul.
That’s all for this week!
And remember, just like Chardonnay, you can be many things.
But you never owe it to anyone to be everything.

P.S. Will you be in Los Angeles on Saturday, June 21? Join me for an intimate wine tasting in Beverly Hills! Get all the details here, and hit reply if you want a discount code for 15% off.