Welcome to another instalment of ‘these are all the Burgundies I’ve tasted recently’, a collection of indulgent tasting highlights from my visit to the Grand Jours de Bourgogne 2026 (a week-long wine fair in this famed French wine region in early March). So far in this series, I’ve looked at how much Chablis I can taste in one session, been bedazzled by a smorgasbord of Vosne mega-wines, tasted many mercurial Mâconnais whites, worked through a challenging lineup from the Côte de Nuits, and topped it with some Volnay/Pommard seduction.

Today, I’m tackling something important – Burgundy that nudges closer to being affordable. Sort of. For this quest, I’m turning to some lesser-known producers and wines from what Jancis Robinson calls ‘Outer Burgundy’ (the appellations beyond the famous Côte d’Or), with a particular focus on the cradle of Burgundian bargains, the Côte Chalonnaise.

Driving (with our excellent guide Yuri) around the hillsides behind the villages of Rully and Mercurey during a break in tastings, something seemed amiss. How is it that this part of Burgundy (the Côte Chalonnais) has a second-class reputation?

Here, you’re as little as 2km from the edge of the most expensive white wine vineyards on the planet (Montrachet), passing plots on ideal mid slopes, with soils that go from limestone to clay (also locally revered). France’s Chardonnay and Pinot Noir holy land is an almost neighbouring slope. Yet, somehow, the rep here is underclass. Look only at average vineyard prices, which are €250k/ha vs three times that further north, producing wines that, and I quote here from Jasper Morris MW in the Oxford Companion to Wine, come with a caveat that ‘although cheerfully fruity while young, few wines from this region have enough body to age well’.

Oof.

This area certainly feels like wine country (complete with chateaux like the one in Rully, pictured above), and no less viticulturally charmed than the incredibly famous vineyards on the next range of hills. So why? Interestingly, there’s a tangled web of reasons why the Côte Challonaise lags behind its neighbours, starting with the fact that the best vineyard land was not mapped out by monks centuries ago. The lack of a contiguous slope also makes identifying the best dirt trickier. You can stir in a focus on sparkling wines to muddy the table wine angles as well. But all of that still didn’t equate, especially I drive past the Faiveleys’ picture-perfect La Framboisiere vineyard in Mercurey, which sure seems like a pretty grand place for Pinot Noir.

It’s not just Mercurey. All up and down the famous hillside of Burgundy, there are villages, producers and appellations that are less heralded and well worth your trouble. That’s what I’m covering in this collection, pulling wines tasted across the Grand Jours de Bourgogne events sourced from upstart proudcers in the Côte d’Or, plus a smorgasbord from the Côte Chalonnaise, Beaujolais (which is, bizarrely, considered part of Burgundy, but Bourgogne locals seem to pretend it doesn’t exist), the Mâconnais (also covered here), and the Haute-Côtes (aka the high hilltops also covered here).

Let’s dive in!

Before we do, the usual caveat about scoring applies here – don’t compare the numbers below with anything but other Burgundian Pinot/Chardonnay/Aligoté. As a rule, extra notes are in italics, and a further note that some of these wines were not labelled, so treat that as you may.