NYC wine pros like Grand Brasserie are refusing to put this ‘overplayed’ bubbly brand on its shelves

Veuve Clicquot has long been shorthand for luxury — name-checked in “Casablanca,” the Ian Fleming novel “Casino Royale” and “Downton Abbey.”

But now the iconic yellow label isn’t cutting it with a certain set. On some of New York City’s high-end, Champagne-focused menus — at places like Aldo Sohm Wine bar, Coqodaq and Grand Brasserie — Veuve isn’t even listed.

One New York-based restaurateur, who recently opened a spot with more than 60 Champagnes on his menu, nixed Veuve for the first time in his long history in the business.

“It’s mass-produced, it’s punchy and overplayed… it’s not what people want to drink in a champagne anymore,” the restaurateur said, asking to withhold his name rather than upset distributors.

While he told The Post he has respect for “the institution,” which dates back to 1772, he said Veuve has gone downhill in recent years to keep up with demand.

Acquired by the luxury-good conglomerate LVMH in 1987, Veuve overtook Mo?t & Chandon as the most popular brand in America around a decade ago — driven in part by its ubiquity at bottle-service nightclubs and in song lyrics by artist like Wiz Khalifa, Machine Gun Kelly, Lana Del Rey and Young Jeezy.

While Veuve has special vintages that can retail for thousands of dollars, its most recognizable offering, $70 yellow label Champagne brut, is getting panned by some oenophiles as sour, unbalanced and “basic” as one Manhattan-based PR executive referred to it.

One West Village wine connoisseur named Mark, who uses the Instagram handle Lord Brut — a nod to the driest classification of Champagne — said he hasn’t drunk Veuve in years because it tastes “a bit burnt” and “the lingering flavor seems off.”

He pointed to the 2015 launch of Veuve’s “Rich” blend, a sweeter Champagne, as proof that the company seems focused on marketing rather than quality.

“Tell me who that would appeal to. Not champagne fans,” Mark said. And the worst part? “It invited non-champagne people to think they are.”

Peter Viveriti, who runs Cavaniola’s Cellar in Sag Harbor, New York, told The Post that, the more popular a champagne brand becomes — Veuve sold an estimated 16 million bottles last year — the more difficult it becomes to monitor quality.

“The cache has gone beyond what the product merits,” Viveriti said. “Over the last 20 to 30 years, it’s become produced at such an enormous level there is no way they can really pay attention to making the perfect champagne because there is too much of it to be made.

“When you have to produce it at a much larger scale, you’re getting grapes from hundreds of different vineyards and all these different soil types. Sometimes it works out nicely, but I think your best chance for superior quality is a uniform quality in the grape you are harvesting.”

Viveriti doesn’t display Veuve in his shop — where brands like Billecart-Salmon, Ruinart, and Henry Beaufort get the prime real estate — but he does have one case in storage.

“I have a few bottles on hand,” he said, “but it’s just because I had to buy some for some of the boats in the harbor” — a reference to the massive yachts docked in Sag Harbor, whose passengers sometimes desire a certain kind of Instagram moment.

The award-winning sommelier Aldo Sohm acknowledges the impressive brand Veuve has created but isn’t fawning over flavor. He doesn’t serve it at his eponymous wine bar — though he does list some special vintages of Veuve at Le Bernadin, the iconic Michelin star restaurant where he serves as wine director.

“They’ve executed [marketing the brand] perfectly,” Sohm told The Post. “Is it the greatest Champagne? Maybe not. But it’s a workhorse.”

Sohm admitted he wouldn’t pop open a bottle for himself — he’d prefer to try something new — but it is, he thinks, a gateway to more sophisticated Champagne.

“It’s a great starting point … and we move on from there,” Sohm said. “If you are having your first fish and I expose you to sea urchin, it would throw you off.”

A caterer, who asked to remain anonymous so as to not insult clients, said that, at this point, Veuve has a particular purpose: “It’s sour — but it’s a way to show guests you spent a certain amount on them.”