Just as Detroit once assumed it would always dominate auto sales, the French thought they’d forever have a lock on the great wine grapes. Then came the cataclysmic (for them) 1976 Paris “blind” taste-off, in which the loftiest names of red Bordeaux and white Burgundy were bested by unheralded Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon and chardonnay. After that, California triumphed with the spicy syrah evoking the smoke, spice, and leather tones of Rhône royalty. California, it seemed, could do anything the French could do with their own grapes as well or better — well, all except one.

The lone classic French variety that long refused to feel at home in California, despite the best efforts of local winemakers, was the always temperamental, occasionally magical, pinot noir. In 1986, pinot noir ambushed Napa Valley’s then high-flying Sterling Vineyards, which paid a record $8 million to buy what the winery predicted would become California’s sweet spot for the grape: the 170-acre Winery Lake Vineyard in Carneros. Its hillside soils and cool climate were supposed to be ideally suited to the grape. But Winery Lake Pinot Noir never scaled any heights and Sterling no longer makes it. A few years earlier, star winemaker Walter Schug left the esteemed Joseph Phelps winery to try his hand at pinot noir. His debut wines tasted strongly of Pepsi-Cola — not exactly the Burgundian ideal. Mr. Schug’s efforts, too, were soon consigned to the junk-heap of failed pinot noir dreams.

A cadre of quixotic California winemakers refused to give up on a pinot noir that would be voluptuous yet light-bodied, silky yet firm textured, and redolent of red berries and ripe cherries. Though Carneros was supposed to be its promised land, and has done well there, pinot noir chose other, unpredicted haunts in which to excel, such as Santa Barbara to the south, Anderson Valley to the north, and the Russian River Valley in-between. Slowly, the wines improved, especially as growers discovered which clones (variations on the grape) adapted best to California.

This mini-history is prologue to my reflections upon a recent evening’s sampling of a dozen cult California pinot noirs assembled by New York Wine Guild, a new and ambitious wine appreciation group. The majority of these bottlings came from wineries which, by Burgundian standards, have been around for a mere jot in time. The sultry Sea Smoke Santa Rita Hills 2003 “Southing” Pinot Noir, for example, issues from a winery created in 1999. Kosta Browne’s dazzlingly deep 2004 Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir was made by two young former sommeliers at a Santa Rosa restaurant who saved up tip money to make their first pinot noir in 1997. Two senior wineries did weigh in: Williams Selyem, making pinot noir since 1981, and the pioneering Hanzell, whose first vintage in 1946 came at a time when dry red wine — if it was served at American tables — was almost always European.

It was hard not to be impressed by the extrovert brilliance of this clutch of pinot noirs, most of them sold directly by the wineries to customers lucky enough to be on the allocation list. Almost all had fruit and ripeness levels so extreme that they seemed sugary, even though they had been fermented to dryness. Their flavors regularly veered from the Burgundian red-berry and cherry norms in the direction of sassafras, pomegranate, cloves, and anise. Thanks to the abundant California sun and because the grapes were allowed extra “hang time” on the vines, these pinot noirs had ripeness levels that could never be achieved by Burgundians in their northern clime. Neither would they want to, I suppose.

Tasting those California wines pulled me back to an early spring tasting of 2004 vintage wines from Burgundy’s apex, the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, held at the restaurant Per Se. All they had in common was the perfect purity of their fruit. Underlying that fruit, though, was a kind of earthiness that gave the wines a deeper dimension and texture. That’s what was missing in the California pinots. Or maybe it was just that their fruit sung so loudly that the whisper of earth was drowned out.

Do I sound like I want to push California pinot noir off my table in favor of Burgundy? Not at all. The best way to appreciate either wine is to know the other.

RECOMMENDED CALIFORNIA PINOT NOIRS Gundlach-Bunschu Pinot Noir 2004, Rhinefarm A zingy ribbon of purple fruit wends through this wine from a historic winery that has been newly invigorated. More graceful than voluptuous, this is a wine that will play well with food. $34 at grapesthewineco.com.

Etude Heirloom Pinot Noir 2004, Carneros While not presented at New York Wine Guild’s tasting, this wine would have held its own. Restrained yet brilliant, its layers of ripe berry fruit, edged with a whisper of cinnamon, straddle the spirits of California and Burgundy. $100 at youngswines.com.