It would be easy to see this variety of styles as regional inconsistency, and to lament, as Kerrie suggested, that consumers won’t know what they are getting when they buy. Yet it suggests as well that we can no longer think of the Mâconnais as a homogeneous region. It is a union of many varying terroirs that will display different characteristics if the grapes are grown and the wine is made with care.

Unlike the Côte d’Or, where the vineyards are ranked in a meticulous hierarchy, the Mâconnais offers only a rudimentary sense of vineyard quality. Plain Mâcon is the lowest rung of the ladder. A step above is Mâcon-Villages, or Mâcon followed by the name of a particular village, or Viré-Clessé, two villages combined into a single appellation.

And that’s it. The St.-Véran area, including the town Davayé, is on the southern end of the Mâconnais region, just north of Beaujolais. I often find St.-Vérans to possess a bit more structure and complexity than the Mâcon wines, though there is by no means a consensus on that.

Nonetheless, our top wine was a St.-Véran, the Terroir Davayé from Domaine Cheveau, which combined an almost kinetic energy with an inviting texture and deep mineral and citrus flavors. Our No. 4 bottle was a St.-Véran as well, this one called Terroirs de Davayé, from Maison Verget, a fresh, lively and spicy wine. In fact, three of the four St.-Vérans in the tasting made our top 10. The other was our No. 9 bottle, Les Pommards from Daniel et Martine Barraud, who generally make precise, focused wines, though this was a little oakier than I prefer.

Six of the 14 Mâcon-Villages in the tasting made our top 10, suggesting, predictably, that it is the most varied appellation. Among them was the Domaine Guillot-Broux Mâcon-Chardonnay Les Combettes, with Chardonnay being the actual name of a village that, legendarily, at least, gave its name to the grape. In any case, this was rich and substantial with obvious oak flavors, but the wine should integrate well over the next year. I thought this came the closest of the wines in our tasting to having a real Côte de Beaune texture.

At No. 3 was the Mâcon-Farges from Henri Perrusset, a lively wine that combined sweet and savory flavors. Other noteworthy wines included the tense and mineral Mâcon-Villages from Auvigue; the complex Viré-Clessé from Domaine de Roally; the lively Mâcon-Villages from Maison Champy; and, at $10, our best value, the crisp, bright Mâcon-Villages from VRAC, a throwback to the Mâconnais wines of yore. We had one bottle in our tasting from Les Héritiers du Comte Lafon, the Lafon Mâconnais operation, but sadly it was flawed and we could not judge it.

I’ve said that these wines at their best are an introduction to the style, if not the substance, of the white Burgundies of the Côte de Beaune. Like those wines, these are generally not powerfully fruity wines, as is the prevailing style for chardonnay in the New World. Instead, they captivate with texture, succulence and that difficult-to-describe sensation often referred to as minerality.

While it’s perhaps flattering to link these Mâconnais wines to their siblings in the Côte de Beaune, might it be demeaning as well because the comparison diminishes their own identity? Perhaps. But the Mâconnais wines are stuck in the white Burgundy context, and right now they don’t look too shabby.