Fights of Fancy: One Grape, Two Names

Some say the grape is named for the Persian city of Shiraz, an ancient place of flowers, wine, and poetry. They say it was brought to France by returning crusader Guy de Sterimberg, who cultivated his vine cuttings in solitude. But to those who say such things, I say bullocks.

To be sure, the exact history of the Syrah/Shiraz grape is murky and complex. For hundreds of years it has been, to my knowledge, undisputedly known in France as Syrah. But the etymology was called into question when Scotsman James Busby brought it from there to Australia in 1824. When and why they changed the name to Shiraz I will leave to the historians and philosophers. But ever since, the Persian myth has persisted and grown, clouding the truth and fostering controversy. Insults volley across the continents as winemakers compete to look further down their noses at each other. Accuracy is important, sure, but snootiness is just unnecessary.

And why do I say that the Persian story is a myth? Because DNA evidence speaks louder than hearsay. Yes, the issue of origin was put to bed and tucked in recently when studies of grape genomes determined that in fact the Syrah grape is most likely descended from two other French varietals: Mondeuse Blanche and Dureza. But some people believe what they want. One fool and his opinion were not easily parted: “Bull, I say. Enough of this self-serving French crap.” To him I say, you shut up, sir. Nobody talks shit about the scientific method.

Anyway, as if there weren’t enough elements to the story already, our controversial grape is the principle and sometimes-sole constituent of some northern Rhone wines such as Hermitage and Cote Rotie, giving rise to extra confusion. And I don’t even want to talk about Petit Syrah, which is totally unrelated and actually Durif. Whatever. Just fill my glass, please.