This is a terrific introduction to the complexities of Burgundy by The Examiner's Hoke Harden.  Direct link is here, and read the story below.

The French wine region of Burgundy can be daunting, even for the professional who has spent years studying it.  It is imposing, of course, since the region has become the iconic birthplace of both Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, two of the fundamental grape varieties in the wine world.

It is even more imposing when one considers the seemingly endless ‘parceling out’ of the vineyards and domain sites, both in human and vinous ways.  The newcomer to Burgundy sees a bewildering patchwork of producers and nomenclatures that, more than anything, befuddles the beginner with almost impenetrable detail.

How to make sense of this kaleidoscope of information, this overload of input, this complex and mystical hierarchical structure of villages, communes, domains, vineyards, clos, and cru?

One way, of course, is to attack this mountain of accumulated information by conquering it, Everest style; studying it and traversing it until you know all there is to know about it.

But to shift clichéd metaphors, another way is to ignore the forest and concentrate on individual trees, one at a time.  It’s quite possible, even probable, to learn most of what you actually need to know about Burgundy---the truly absolute essentials---by focusing on two avatars of Burgundy.

Let’s do the second, while avoiding most of the first, leaving that up to your own individual interest in mountain climbing.  And since we've added the dimension of taste, let's call this Burgundy Avatar 4D.

To get to the essence of Burgundy, you have to have a white avatar and a red avatar. Here’s one of each, from the lovely French portfolio of importer Frederick Wildman.

2006 Chablis Grand Cru Les Clos, Burgundy, Christian Moreaux Pere et Fils, Chablis, France

Years ago, an aficionado of wine---and especially French wine---was rendering a tasting note and uttered the now-famous descriptor "salty lemon oyster shells".  No one was quite sure exactly what that meant at first, but it somehow made sense. Salty lemon oyster shells indeed: sounds like a spot-on descriptor for this Grand Cru Chablis.

All Chablis is Chardonnay.  If only all Chardonnay were as good as this Chablis.  It is the pure essence of the grape, absolutely transparent, with nothing masked or overly manipulated. A few truly fine wines have that special combination of saturated, but by no means over-ripe, fruit and piercing acidity in perfect suspension with each other.

This is one of those wines, a wine of precision and elegance.  Does that sound contradictory? It's not. This is crystal to other wines' glass.

It is easy to recite the components of this Chablis---fresh lemon, crisp apple, brisk acidity---but that mundane list does not, cannot, speak to the exquisite harmony of all those elements in perfect balance, the amazing, transfixing suspended perfection of a wine that somehow manages to be delicate and powerful in the same moment.

And there’s the irony: this is the exemplar of the style of white wine that every other winemaker around the world wished to make, Chablis.  So consistently and persistently excellent that anyone else who made wine from Chardonnay grapes had Chablis as an icon of style. 

But as the grape spread to other areas, and was born of other climates and soils and techniques, the wine changed as well.  Even a few miles difference to the south in the Cote d’Or, where Chardonnay achieves often transcendental heights, it is never mistaken for Chablis.  Still Chardonnay and Chardonnay  alone, but different: Meursault, Montrachet, Montagny, Rully, Macon.  Same grape, different place, different wine.  Not necessarily as good as, possibly as good as, possibly even better:  but different.

This wine establishes the power of place, and epitomizes that oft-discussed concept of terroir more eloquently than any words can.  It is, definably and undeniably, a wine from a singular place; and therein is the single reason for the insistence in France on the development of the “appellation controlee” system:  Chablis anywhere else is not Chablis.

Now, having identified one of the best examples (highly regarded owner/producer in a recognized “Grand Cru” or Great Growth vineyard) of this place, Chablis, you need only try other iterations from the same place, then travel a little further south and try other chardonnays from other producers in other communes.  Not a short journey, nor inexpensive, but infinitely rewarding. Experience the wines, then learn the details that differentiate them.

2007 Nicolas Potel Savigny-les-Beaune 1er Cru Les Marconnets, Burgundy.

There are many, many communes and cru of Burgundy throughout the Cote d’Or that produce Pinot Noir, each with its own particular expression; one of the most charming is the light elegance of the Pinot Noir of Savigny.  Where other plots and communes have force majeure (Corton), or are more sturdy and plain-spoken (Pommard), or silky and rich (Echezeaux), Savigny is light, cherry-fruity, with gentle mushroom earthiness.