Chablis, like Champagne, has become one of the more anonymous wine brands of the dreaded "global marketplace." And like the bubblies of Épernay and Vertus, the noble Chardonnay wines made around the town of Auxerre, about two hours southeast of Paris, have suffered at the hands of glib marketing and cynical overproduction. Many drinkers today have no idea that true Chablis is not an insipid Californian hybrid but was always the elite thoroughbred of Burgundy whites. Unlike Champagne, however, Chablis was never able to defend its brand in court. California stole the name and, as it were, traduced it. The result has been that Chablis is often seen as one-dimensional swill. As Edward Abbey had it, in a mood of gleeful disparagement: "A good writer must have more than vin rose in his veins, use more than Chablis for ink."

But what could be more penetrating, complex, or grave than a great Chablis? Most writers would be lucky to have that in their pens. Yet a mauvaise reputation is not the first problem the august appellation has had to face. Devastated during World War II, the land devoted to vineyards in Chablis eventually dropped to a tiny 1,235 acres. The region had to be entirely rebuilt, its vineyards carefully restored and replanted. By 1973, it was up to 1,853 acres, and today the amount of land covered by vineyards has reached a healthy 10,000 acres.

But as the area recovered, the quality and style of Chablis began to change. Around the handsome village of Chablis itself, mass-production facilities sprang up, using new oak barriques to create bold, simple New World-style "Chablis." The elite producers, on the other hand, clung to the region's traditional small feuillette barrels to create the high-acid, minerally wines for which Chablis was always known. The result has been a curious schizophrenia, with two styles of Chablis that have little to do with each other. The former wines, usually sold under the rubric of Chablis AOC or Petit Chablis AOC, come from the plains, while the superb Grand Cru and Premier Cru wines come from higher elevations where the fossil and chalk deposits — the signature elements of Chablis soil — are rich. The renaissance of Chablis has therefore taken two antagonistic forms. Yet the high-end growers and producers have re-established it as one of the world's great wines. Foremost among them is Domaine Raveneau, whose lean, trenchant wines command towering prices at American tables.