Prestige champagne is no longer the exclusive domain of the Grandes Marques. Smaller houses – even growers – now attract fiercely loyal followers on account of some very good and limited release cuvées. Matthew Lamb challenges our understanding of what makes a prestige champagne ‘prestige’.
Moët & Chandon’s initial release of 1921 Dom Pérignon in 1936 marked the first public release of a prestige cuvée from a champagne house. From there on, other houses began to follow with their own tête de cuvée: Cristal became a wine not just reserved for Russian tsars; Veuve Clicquot recognised their former matriarch with La Grande Dame; Pol Roger gave the ultimate tip of the cap to a British Prime Minister with a renowned penchant for the estate, with most estates capitalising upon the elevated pricing opportunity and marketing exposure that such releases provided them.
In the 80 or so years that has proceeded that momentous event, the world of wine, and most certainly that of champagne, has evolved markedly. With that, the understanding and acceptance of what makes a ‘prestige cuvée’ has shifted too.

From a move potentially driven by a savvy marketing department, to Champagne’s further exploration into site specificity, to challenging the notion of what exactly prestige is, illustrates the diversity that prestige cuvées present to the market.
Similar scenarios can be seen with recent moves by Piper-Heidsieck to disassociate from its former tête de cuvée Rare which now operates as an entirely separate entity.

A further reference here to Dom Pérignon is not meant to bemoan the cuvée itself, but illustrate the evolution that it has undertaken, becoming a brand unto itself. For those fortunate enough to have tasted Dom from the 90’s and older, they may remember an alteration to the insignia of the label’s crown. Previously it proudly bore ‘Moët et Chandon à Epernay’; this has now been usurped by Dom Pérignon Vintage. The association with a brand, whose non-vintage routinely sells for one-fifth of that of its prestige cuvée and neither of which are made in negligible volumes, no doubt provides a level of detraction and being tarred by association. Similar scenarios can be seen with recent moves by Piper-Heidsieck to disassociate from its former tête de cuvée Rare which now operates as an entirely separate entity. Brands that have been ubiquitous with big-box retail and price slashing present an insurmountable obstacle for many prestige cuvées. Will this be a path which further Grandes Marques follow, as many push forth in both the race to the bottom and the top simultaneously?
The rise of the grower, for some time now, has demonstrated a shifting landscape within Champagne, and certainly the notion of prestige that accompanies it. Eschewing the common rhetoric of ‘house style’ in favour of ‘vin de terroir’, the avant-garde generation of producers routinely exemplify site specificity over that of the kaleidoscope of villages that many champagnes, even prestige cuvées, bring to the consumer. If you were to draw a parallel to Burgundy, it would be considered sacrilege to produce an assemblage of grand crus within the Côte de Beaune yet it has been a long-held practice to produce a cuvée from Avize, Cramant and Le Mesnil blended together, for example. Philipponnat’s Clos des Goisses first defined a single vineyard champagne, and single vineyard prestige cuvée at that, being revolutionary amongst a world of champagnes that previously had traversed the appellation from north to south. With a reinvigorated approach by many towards the individuality and uniqueness of not just vineyards but even specific lieu-dits, the former hierarchical structure entrenched in the minds of many will have to be recalibrated as paradigms are challenged. Is a vintage inherently better than a non-vintage release? Does a producer’s vintage release sit atop their expressions? Where do single vineyard wines sit amongst them all? These questions apply to all, from the larger houses to the smallest of artisan producers, further highlighting the shifting evolution within Champagne.
The rise of the grower, for some time now, has demonstrated a shifting landscape within Champagne, and certainly the notion of prestige that accompanies it.
The house of Krug takes the bold standpoint that their entry level, Grande Cuvée, is the prestige cuvée of the domaine. Their multi-vintage blend, representing the largest production of the house, is “born of the dream of one man, Joseph Krug, to craft the very best champagne he could offer, every single year…”. Although not from a single vineyard nor vintage, like others within the Krug stable whose price tags routinely fetch ten times that of Grande Cuvée, this statement of commitment towards quality aligns with the house’s stance towards the importance of Grande Cuvée. The truth no doubt lies somewhere between etchings in Joseph Krug’s illustrious notebook and a marketing brainstorming session. Nonetheless, the undeniably delicious Grande Cuvée does illustrate the potentially inverse relationship commonly held around the notion of a ‘prestige cuvée’ for the majority.
The concept of prestige cuvée has come a long way over the 20th and 21st Centuries, with itself now occupying a myriad of expressions that it can take in the mind of both the consumer and the producer.
The concept of prestige cuvée has come a long way over the 20th and 21st Centuries, with itself now occupying a myriad of expressions that it can take in the mind of both the consumer and the producer. Wherever one’s definition may lay, one thing is for certain; there are more and more truly delicious wines that speak of either house style, terroir - or both - in a resounding voice than ever before.
Photography by Dom Pérignon, Philipponnat and Sara Underdown