Let’s just get this out of the way: Sideways did Merlot dirty. If you’ve ever watched that movie, you probably remember the line. In fact, if you’re even a casual wine drinker, you can probably quote it by heart. That one scene, and Paul Giamatti’s cranky face, tanked Merlot’s reputation in the U.S. almost overnight. But here’s the thing: the real crime wasn’t against Merlot—it was against everyone who wrote it off without ever giving the grape a real chance.
I’ll say it outright: Merlot is my favorite varietal at the moment. And no, not because I like flabby, one-dimensional supermarket wine. The best Merlot—especially from places like Bordeaux’s Right Bank or the hills of Tuscany—makes wines that are seductive, complex, and endlessly drinkable. If all you know of Merlot is that bottom-shelf stuff that flooded the market in the ‘90s and early 2000s, it’s no wonder you (or your friends) got turned off. But let me try to convert you, because Merlot, when grown and made with care, can be magic.
First, some real talk about Merlot’s origins. The grape is Bordeaux through and through, first written about as far back as 1784. The name comes from the French word for “little blackbird”—merle—either because of the grape’s deep color or maybe because blackbirds just liked to feast on it. (Who can blame them, honestly?)
Geneticists later confirmed that Merlot is the child of Cabernet Franc and a much rarer grape called Magdeleine Noire des Charentes. It’s a grape that took to Bordeaux’s damp, clay-rich soils like it was born for them—which, in a way, it was.
For a long time, Merlot was the dominant grape in Bordeaux blends. That’s right: all this fuss about Cabernet Sauvignon being king is a relatively recent development. Merlot’s softer tannins, juicy plum and cherry flavors, and ability to thrive in soils that were sometimes too cool and wet for Cabernet made it the workhorse of the region. Only in the last few decades, with global warming and changes in planting trends, has Cabernet Sauvignon surged ahead globally and on Bordeaux’s Left Bank.
Back to Sideways, and why it did so much damage. Here’s the thing: the wine world in the 1980s and ‘90s saw a massive boom in Merlot plantings, especially in California. It became the “easy-drinking” red of choice for people who wanted a softer, less tannic wine than Cabernet. What followed, though, was an avalanche of mass-produced, watered-down, bland Merlot that hit supermarket shelves everywhere. It’s not that Merlot was inherently boring; it’s that a lot of what was being made was just plain bad.
So when Sideways hit, it simply put into words what a lot of wine lovers were already whispering: most cheap Merlot was disappointing. The backlash was brutal. Sales tanked, vineyards were ripped up, and for a while, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who’d admit to liking Merlot. Meanwhile, Pinot Noir sales soared (though I have a theory most of those new Pinot Noir drinkers couldn’t pick one out in a blind tasting, but that’s another story).
Here’s my point: Don’t judge Merlot by the worst examples. If you’re buying $5 bottles with cartoon birds on the label, you’re not experiencing Merlot—you’re drinking red wine with the serial numbers filed off. The good stuff is out there, and it’s worth every cent.
Let’s talk flavor. Real, honest Merlot—especially from classic regions—is everything I want in a red:
Merlot is often described as “soft,” but I think that’s misleading. The tannins are typically less assertive than Cabernet Sauvignon, but when Merlot’s grown in the right soils—clay in Pomerol, for example, or certain pockets of Tuscany—it can have a backbone and ageability that rivals the best Cabs. It’s just a different kind of structure. Where Cab is angular and upright, Merlot is more like a well-worn leather armchair—supportive, but you want to sink into it.
Another fun fact: Merlot tends to ripen earlier than Cabernet, which is one reason it became so popular in Bordeaux’s cooler, damper Right Bank. This also means that in hot regions, it can get overripe and lose definition—hence the jammy, overblown style you’ll sometimes find in mass-market bottles.
Nowhere does Merlot reach greater heights than on Bordeaux’s Right Bank. Take Pomerol, for example. Here, Merlot is the undisputed star—wines are plush, dense, and often take on notes of truffle, dark chocolate, and damp earth as they age. Some of the world’s most legendary (and let’s be real, most expensive) bottles are almost entirely Merlot: think Pétrus or Le Pin. I’ve had the chance to taste a few older Pomerol wines, and there’s nothing like the way the fruit, earth, and plush texture come together—pure decadence, but with brains.
Saint-Émilion is another Merlot haven, though here you’ll often find more Cabernet Franc in the mix. These wines are a bit firmer, a little more aromatic, and sometimes have an herbal lift that makes them especially food-friendly. The common thread? Clay and limestone soils, which give the wines both plushness and tension.
Even on Bordeaux’s Left Bank, Merlot plays a vital supporting role, helping to round out the tannins of Cabernet Sauvignon. And fun fact: a few Left Bank châteaux use much more Merlot than you’d think—sometimes out of necessity, sometimes by design. The old story that Merlot is always the “sidekick” in Bordeaux just isn’t true.
Let’s move to Tuscany, which, believe it or not, is producing some of the world’s most exciting Merlot right now. Merlot arrived in Bolgheri as early as the mid-20th century but started making waves in the 1970s with the rise of the Super Tuscans—wines that famously broke all the Italian wine laws by blending (or bottling solo) non-traditional grapes like Merlot, Cabernet, and more. (A quick fun fact: before the IGT Toscana designation came about in 1992, these revolutionary wines were labeled simply as “vino da tavola,” or table wine, even when they were some of the best wines in the country. Go figure.)
What makes Tuscan Merlot stand out is the marriage of warm, sunny days (which give plushness and depth) with cool breezes from the Tyrrhenian Sea (which preserve acidity and aromatic complexity). The soils are a mix of clay, sand, and alluvial deposits, which help the vines dig deep and give structure to the wines. Taste a great Tuscan Merlot and you’ll find richness, black fruit, spice, and always that Italian vibrancy—a brightness that keeps you coming back for another sip. Masseto and Redigaffi are household names among collectors, but I love discovering lesser-known bottles that still have that backbone and nerve. Plush? Yes. Boring? Never.
Merlot’s adaptability is a blessing and a curse. It’ll grow almost anywhere, which means there are brilliant, distinct examples across the New World—but also more than a few duds. Let’s hit some highlights.
California’s relationship with Merlot is complicated. For a while, it was the “Cabernet alternative”—softer, juicier, easier for people just getting into red wine. That’s how you ended up with supermarket Merlot, which did more to damage the grape’s reputation than Sideways ever could. But quality California Merlot is out there if you know where to look.
Hillside or mountain-grown Merlot (think Mount Veeder or the Mayacamas) tends to have more backbone and depth, with dark fruit, chocolate, and sometimes even a bit of menthol. Valley floor Merlot? Usually lusher, plusher, sometimes veering into the simple or sweet. If you stick to producers who take it seriously (and don’t mind spending a bit more), California Merlot can be truly rewarding. But my advice: skip the $10 bottles unless you’re just looking for something to toss into sangria.
Washington’s Columbia Valley and Walla Walla regions are making some of the best Merlot in the New World, period. The climate here is interesting—big swings between hot days and cool nights, plus soils that are mostly volcanic and loamy. The result is Merlot with both ripeness and freshness: black cherry, plum, cocoa, sometimes a hint of graphite. I like Washington Merlot because it manages to be plush and generous but never heavy. It also ages surprisingly well. If you want to rediscover what Merlot can do, start here.
Chile is another country that’s quietly turning out some delicious Merlot. Thanks to the combination of warm sunshine and cooling influence from the Andes, plus a patchwork of granite and clay soils, Chilean Merlot is usually juicy, vibrant, and often has an herbal twist—sometimes even a note of fresh green pepper or eucalyptus. While you’ll find plenty of affordable bottles, some higher-end producers are making Merlot with real seriousness and depth. If you’re looking for value, it’s hard to beat.
Merlot grows just about everywhere these days. In Australia, it’s usually plush, fruity, and sometimes blended with Shiraz or Cabernet. South African Merlot is often earthier, with savory olive or tobacco notes—almost a bridge between Bordeaux and the New World. You’ll find Merlot in New Zealand, Argentina, even China, but for my money, the most exciting bottles still come from Bordeaux, Tuscany, Washington, and, occasionally, California.
One of the reasons Merlot has been so widely planted is because it’s a dream for winemakers looking to blend. In Bordeaux, it’s the velvet cushion to Cabernet’s steel frame—rounding out tannins, adding fruit, making the wine more approachable earlier. The same goes for Super Tuscan blends and California’s “Meritage” wines. A fun fact: in many legendary bottles, Merlot actually makes up the majority of the blend (even if Cabernet gets top billing).
But don’t let anyone tell you Merlot can’t shine on its own. The best pure Merlots—from Pomerol, from Tuscany, from a few select spots in Washington and California—stand toe to toe with any great red in the world. It just needs the right site, a patient winemaker, and a bit of respect.
Here’s another thing to love about Merlot: it’s incredibly food friendly. The softer tannins and moderate acidity mean it pairs with all sorts of dishes—from roast chicken and pork to richer, earthier fare like mushroom risotto, duck confit, or even a classic steak. My personal favorite? A good Right Bank Bordeaux with a perfectly cooked lamb chop and some rosemary potatoes. It’s one of those pairings that never gets old.
Maybe it’s the underdog factor, or maybe I just love the grape’s style, but Merlot is the bottle I reach for most these days. When it’s good, it offers a depth, freshness, and approachability that’s hard to beat. Especially in the Old World—in Bordeaux or Tuscany—you get wines that are plush and inviting but never heavy or one-dimensional. There’s always a line of acidity, a lift, a little something savory or earthy that keeps you interested.
So here’s my invitation: Don’t write off Merlot. Try the good stuff, look for bottles from places where the grape is truly respected, and ignore the supermarket stereotypes. You might just find your new favorite red.
If you’re curious to learn more about Merlot, or want help finding a bottle that’ll convert you, check out Wine Pro—my AI sommelier and go-to for everything from grape facts to food pairing ideas. Whether you’re just starting to explore or you’re already deep into your Merlot phase, Wine Pro is the quickest way to discover what makes this grape so much more than just “the other red.”
1. Lettie Teague, The Wall Street Journal (2014)
2. Karen MacNeil, The Wine Bible (2015)
3. Jancis Robinson, Wine Grapes (2012)
4. Oxford Companion to Wine
5. Robinson et al., Wine Grapes (DNA analysis)
6. Decanter Magazine, Bordeaux Reports
7. Wine Spectator, Bordeaux Guides
8. Eric Asimov, The New York Times (2009)
9. Wine Enthusiast, “The Rise and Fall of Merlot”
10. Wine Folly, Merlot Profile
11. Jancis Robinson, Tasting Notes
12. Oxford Companion to Wine, “Merlot”
13. Wine Spectator, Regional Reports
14. Decanter, Regional Guides
15. Sotheby’s Wine Encyclopedia
16. Wine Advocate, Producer Profiles
17. Wine Folly, Blending Grapes
18. Decanter, “Merlot as a Varietal”
19. Food & Wine, Wine Pairing Guides
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