Carménère was, in the mid 1800s, a staple of French Bordeaux wine blends (in combination with Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Malbec and Petit Verdot). The Carménère's simultaneously herbal and spicy qualities provided a pleasant contrast for the other wines in the traditional Bordeaux blend, though it was prized as much as for the deep red color (the name Carménère is cognate with carmine, a deep vibrant red—though the name seems to be inspired more by the deep red of the grape vines in fall). Carménère was successfully planted in Chile, where the original French stock thrived, and frequently, grew alongside Merlot vines.

France was hard-hit in the latter half of the nineteenth century with phylloxera, the Root Louse, an insect that destroyed thousands of vines in France, and that some grape varietals never really recovered. For a long time, Carménère was so decimated by phylloxera that it was somewhat forgotten. But the grape thrived in Chile, where it was sometimes mistaken for a late-ripening version of Merlot, and indeed, the vines were frequently allowed to intermingle on older plantings. The two are quite possibly distantly related, and look so strikingly similar that even experts resort to genetic testing to be sure. Today, Chile is the largest grower of Carménère, especially in Chile's Colchagua Valley, Rapel Valley, and Maipo Province. Smaller crops of Carménère are grown in Eastern Washington, in the Walla Walla Valley, in California, and in Italy. There are limited plantings in Australia and New Zealand (where the Carménère starts were thought to be Cabernet Franc).

To my admittedly naive and ignorant palate, Carménère is reminiscent of a slightly milder, flatter Malbec—and that's not a slam at either wine, just an aside. I've had the Oops Carménère, and have been looking for another, particularly since I think one way we can help Chilean wineries recover is to buy Chilean wine—and Chile still very much has the market for Carménère.