Natural Wine: Fad or Future? What Baum’s Take Means for Drinkers

Natural wine used to feel like a secret handshake. Now you can spot pét-nats at the grocery store next to kale chips. In his new piece for Wine-Searcher, Konstantin Baum MW pokes the beehive—questioning definitions and dogma—and lands on a refreshingly nuanced take. If you’ve ever wondered whether “natural” is a style, a philosophy, or just a vibe, this is your compass.

Baum’s most clarifying line might be the simplest: “there are no wines entirely without sulfur” (Konstantin Baum MW, Wine-Searcher). It’s a tidy pin in a balloon of misinformation—and a reminder that cellar alchemy is never black-and-white.

Style snapshot: what to expect in the glass

“Natural wine” isn’t one flavor, but there are recurring themes. Most bottlings are dry, often light to medium-bodied, and lean into freshness over polish. If you love bright, chillable reds, look for Beaujolais made from Gamay—ground zero for the movement’s philosophy. Prefer whites with texture? Skin-contact styles (orange wines) from the Loire Valley—think Chenin Blanc in a more tactile, tea-like register—can be earthy and pleasantly grippy. And if you’re bubbles-curious, pét-nats bring soft fizz and orchard-fruit vibes with a wilder edge than traditional-method sparkling.

Common threads you’ll notice: native-yeast ferments, minimal new oak, and a willingness to leave some haze in the wine. That haze is harmless—call it the “unfiltered look” of the wine world. Functional fashion, basically.

Best occasion: casual hangs where conversation outpaces candlelight—park days, taco nights, vinyl sessions.
Best pairing direction: keep it simple. Natural reds love charcuterie and grilled veggies; skin-contact whites adore salty snacks and roasted chicken; pét-nats are brunch MVPs.

Where it came from—and why that matters

Baum maps the movement back to mid-20th-century France, with Beaujolais chemist Jules Chauvet inspiring minimal-intervention pioneers like Marcel Lapierre. The idea wasn’t new-age mysticism; it was practical skepticism toward industrial shortcuts. That history explains why Beaujolais and the Loire still feel like natural wine’s spiritual homes—regions where fruit purity and lift lead the dance.

The article also spotlights a definitional messiness that persists. Isabelle Legeron MW describes natural wine as made “without adding or removing anything in the cellar” (via Wine-Searcher). Inspiring, yes—but in practice, even respected fairs set sulfur caps rather than forbidding it entirely. Real life (and real cellars) are complicated.

What’s changed? According to Baum, the once-rebellious aesthetic is now mainstream. You can find “natural” sections on Michelin wine lists and in corporate tastings. That’s not inherently bad—it just means the label “natural” tells you less than it used to. The smart play is to read the back label, ask your merchant about the producer’s approach, and buy by style rather than slogan.

How to buy better: cues that actually matter

– Farming first: Organically or biodynamically grown grapes are the usual baseline. It’s not a guarantee of greatness, but it’s a good start.
– Cellar transparency: Look for notes about native yeast, unfiltered/ unfined, and sulfur additions. Minimal SO2 can be a stabilizer, not a sin.
– Region cues: For juicy, chillable reds, scan for Beaujolais (Gamay). For textured whites, hunt Loire skin-contact Chenin Blanc. For sunny Mediterranean energy, Southern France (Languedoc) offers citrusy, herb-kissed blends that thrive in low-intervention hands.

Remember, natural winemaking is a method, not a monolith. Some bottles are pristine; some flirt with funk. If you love kombucha and farmhouse ale, you’ll be more tolerant of the latter. If you want precision, shop producers known for clean, stable ferments.

What Baum gets right (and why it’s good for drinkers)

Baum’s critique trims the mythology without dunking on the movement. He notes that slogans can collapse under “stress-test” conditions, yet he respects the original spark: a push for authenticity and environmental responsibility. That’s the sweet spot for buyers—embrace the diversity, expect transparency, and don’t mistake cloudiness for virtue or clarity for compromise.

As someone who divides her time between tide charts and tasting notes, I’ll add this: like surfing, natural wine is about reading conditions. Vintage heat, microbial load, grape variety—these waves shape the ride. The best producers know when to paddle, when to pop up, and when a light touch of SO2 keeps you from wiping out.

The closing takeaway

Natural wine isn’t a fad, and it’s not a religion—it’s a spectrum. Use grapes and regions as your North Star (Gamay from Beaujolais for crunchy reds; Chenin Blanc from the Loire for savory whites), choose styles that fit your table (dry, light-to-medium body is the bullseye), and trust importers and retailers who speak plainly about what’s in the bottle. The goal isn’t purity theater; it’s deliciousness with a conscience.

Source quotes: “there are no wines entirely without sulfur” (Konstantin Baum MW, Wine-Searcher). And natural wine made “without adding or removing anything in the cellar” (Isabelle Legeron MW, via Wine-Searcher) is an ideal—not a universal practice.

Bottom line: let the wine be honest, but make sure it’s also good. If it tastes great and goes with your Tuesday tacos, that’s the future I’m rooting for.

Source: https://www.wine-searcher.com/m/2025/11/the-truth-about-natural-wine?rss=Y