We Prefer Natural Wine Because They are Real

Excuse my brevity, but I ran a little under 7 miles tonight and have a few books on the wines of Portugal on my lap while watching the Indiana/Michigan men’s basketball game.

Tonight I came across a post from Charlie Oken as he chimed in on the latest kerfuffle over natural wine.  Tom Wark posted his latest thoughts on vitis naturalis on his site (and for the record, I have almost zero respect for anything that comes out of Wark’s mouth or keyboard since he compared wine wholesalers to Nazi’s awhile back) which led to a response from Hardy Wallace on his site – Dirty South Wine.  Oken, like so many wine writers, misses the point when it comes to understanding why a growing sector of the wine market prefers place over process.  For those of us who prefer to drink wines that are reflective of place and are produced in a manner that involves minimal intervention, our value for these wines isn’t based solely on method – the wines need to taste delicious.  I have had many wines made with little to no intervention that taste terrible, while others are some of the most memorable bottles I’ve ever come across. However, for those wines that taste delicious and are made in a responsible, non-interventionist fashion – they represent not only a process that allows a wine’s voice to speak, but they offer something that is real.

What do I mean by real?  I mean there wines out there that are mind-blowing examples of what’s great about non-manipulated food products.  They fall into a category that is much bigger and more important than taste alone – they represent a method of production that is anti-process.  And by process I mean processed product.  When I teach wine classes, I often use the analogy that when foods such as doughnuts, cookies, juice from concentrate and by-product cold cuts replace their freshly made, and more authentic predecessors, these pre-packaged food-like products represent more factory than real ingredients.  I, along with a large number of natural wine lovers, believe, though “flavor” and “texture” might be gained by manipulating grapes in the vineyard and juice in the winery, a connection to what’s real is lost – our feet are no longer on the ground.  Instead of viewing a painting in a museum, we are now understanding it through a 17 inch high definition computer monitor.  Though shiny, crisp, clear and lucid, it’s no longer the same painting.  We believe that same “there there” is lost when wines going through the funny business of manipulation.  These wines aren’t always delicious, but those that are represent something that far too many people in this world are losing touch with – an experience that cannot be duplicated, wrapped in plastic and mass produced.  And that my friends, is what the best wines in the world stand for – an unmistakable sense of place that provides an eye opening respite from banality that floods too many wine shops and restaurant lists.

What is Minerality? The First Part of a Modest Inquiry

What does it mean for a wine to have a component that expresses minerality?  Those who support the notion that minerality exists believe that it manifests itself in the aromas and flavors of a wine as it exhibits notes associated with certain stony, earthy or other soil characteristics.  Other Mineralites believe that the “tension,” “nerviness” or “grit” in a wine represents minerality.  Perhaps the most famous example being the “chalkiness” that jumps out of a glass of Grand Cru Chablis.  At the other end of the spectrum are the Anti-Mineralites – those, for various reasons, who debunk the idea that minerality exists as they believe it’s impossible for earthy elements to directly find their way into a grape and subsequently into a bottle of wine.  For instance, the anti-minerality camp does not believe that “slatey-ness” is expressible in Rieslings from the Mosel.  What then, is the taster perceiving when he puts his nose in a terroir-driven offering?

What I am going to attempt here, over the course of any number of ruminative posts is to explore what we mean by minerality and if it does in fact exist in wine.   What, as Randall Grahm asks, is the mechanism by which minerality expresses itself in a glass of wine?  I dare not offer an essay of sorts – I have neither the patience nor the time to sit and write thousands of words at once.  However, I am going to take whatever knowledge I have, both from the bottle and the book, and combine that with different newly found references in books, blogs and winemaker accounts in an attempt to shed light on the subject.  There are far more qualified and learned minds already working on the question of the existence of minerality – I simply want to read what they have to offer and discuss anything that they might have overlooked or misunderstood along the way.  This is also a journey into a bit of my own philosophy – I firmly believe that slate, limestone, chalk, volcanic and other soils can be perceived in a finished wine.  Have I fallen for a bit of romantic vinous philosophy?

Below is a crude sketch I put together last week as Randall Grahm and wine writer Howard G. Goldberg pondered the mechanism by which minerality expresses itself as a sense of place in wine.  I have the artistic ability of my 4 year old niece, but I think it’s a good jumping off point for how I currently understand how minerality might find its way into a wine.

How Does It Get There?

Why Proposed Privatization Effort In Pennsylvania is a Sham

In the summer of 2010, I appeared on the Fox Business Network to engage PJ Stapleton, Chairman of the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board in a debate over the installation of wine kiosks in supermarkets in the Keystone State.  I argued that installing wine vending machines was a half-hearted attempt to deliver wines to the public outside of the state-run stores.  And less than a year later, the vending machines were scrapped due, for the most part, to technical issues. In addition to arguing that these machines would not drive demand for one-stop shoppers, I believed that the machine’s inventory had a limited number of choices and consumer’s choice was being restricted.  Restriction of choice seems to be the modus operandi for Pennsylvania’s state controlled liquors system.  However, with the introduction of House Bill 11, lawmakers in PA are taking steps modernize and effectively privatize wine distribution.  Except that this bill might be the most restrictive piece of regulatory legislation to affect Pennsylvania wine consumers yet.

As Stacy Brown writes in the PA Independent writes, “House Republicans set aside plans to privatize all liquor stores in favor of a hybrid blend that would allow some competition for wine sales while maintaining the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board’s long-time monopoly on liquor.”  Sounds like a fair deal for wine consumers so far.  However, the catch is that the bill will, “allow the state to sell wholesale wine licenses for $100 million each.”  If you aren’t up to date on fee structures for wine licensing, aspiring distributors in New York State pay $5,000 for similar licenses and their counterparts in New Jersey pay a bit more.  That’s right – the same license that can be purchased in New York and New Jersey for the price of a used car will cost distributors in Pennsylvania one… hundred…. million… dollars.

Such a high price tag begs the question, why even offer distributors the opportunity to buy a license as nearly every distributor who is currently selling wine to the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board wouldn’t be able to afford a new license at the proposed price?  Because the princely sum of $100,000,000 almost guarantees that the state run monopoly system will be replaced by another monopoly – perhaps a national distributor who has deep enough pockets to pay the sum and control the wine distribution system alone as many of their smaller competitors lose the right to sell their wines to the newly “privatized” wine stores.  Perhaps this national distributor, who controls markets – in some instances, say the size of Las Vegas, has enough capital to lobby local, state and even Congress, might in fact be the driving force behind the proposed legislation in Pennsylvania?

As for retail licenses, they would be sold for a more reasonable $50,000 apiece, which is a bargain compared to some of the insanely high prices set across the Delaware River in New Jersey.  That fair of a price for a retail license seems to give plenty of incentive to would-be wine shop owners to open up neighborhood stores in all corners of the state.  After all, the best wine shops, big and small, in New York and New Jersey are family owned and operated stores that serve not only as a place to pick up a great bottle, but also provide a locus of community where friends, family and regulars gather to find new, curious and interesting juice to bring home.  However, what if I proposed that a large, regional discounter was also lobbying lawmakers in Harrisburg to keep the price of retail licenses at a low level in order to buy as many as they could when they become available.  Hypothetically, this regional chain would open up as many as hundred or more big-box stores throughout PA and in doing so, would essentially replace the state run locations with neon signs, ‘discount prices’ and selections provided to them by, you guessed it, the only distributor who could possibly afford the license to do so.  And since this chain would dominate the Pennsylvania retail wine landscape – prices on these products would essentially be fixed – and just as you guessed again correctly, as they are fixed now (at much higher prices than neighboring states, by the way), by the current state run monopoly.

Unless House Bill 11 is amended to include a provision that grandfathers in distributors who are currently doing business in Pennsylvania, this ‘privatization’ effort will amount to nothing more than a sham that will continue the fleecing of the PA wine consumer.  Though the proposed bill claims the jobs currently filled by employees in the state run stores will be preserved, consider the number of jobs that will be lost as distributors who are not able to continue business in PA will be forced to cut back their sales and office staff.  Pennsylvania is a key market for more than a few wine distributors and if their pipeline dries up, in all likelihood they will be forced to make changes to their business plan that will have a negative impact on more than just Pennsylvania, but in other markets as well.

Distribution systems, especially those involving alcohol, can be problematic and imperfect.  However, the most efficient systems are those that give the consumer the ability to purchase what they desire at a price they deem fair.  If they think Cabernet ‘A’ isn’t worth the price at their local store, they can choose that wine at another store that has better pricing.  Or they can try Cabernet ‘B’ to see if it represents a better value than Cabernet ‘A.’  Therein lies the fun of buying wine – finding great values at your local store.  I am afraid that if House Bill 11 passes in its current form, wine consumers in Pennsylvania will not have any more freedom of choice than they have now as politics and big money replace one monopoly with another.

*Schill Alert – I work for a small distributor that sells wine in the New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania markets.  In no way was I asked by my employer to post this piece.  Like all of my posts, this piece is independent of how I make my living during the day.  All content above is my own and if I were asked to write a piece by my employer, I would politely tell him to write it himself.

Philosophical Approach to Place – Brettanomyces

A number of tweets, Facebook posts and blog posts are sprouting up with reactions to the recent Decanter piece on scientists cracking the genetic code for Brett.  Many writers, bloggers and winemakers have commented on the story and Joe Roberts, aka 1 Wine Dude even wrote that this breakthrough is one of the most significant findings in the development of winemaking in quite some time.  Though cracking the genetic code for what many call a spoilage yeast, perhaps the philosophical consequences of this finding and its effects on terroir and winemaking process overall is where our discussion should be focused.

As we know, Brettanomyces is a strain of yeast that can be very difficult to control.  It can be found in cellar equipment, including oak barrels.  The yeast can also be transferred throughout the winery via fruit flies.  Because Brett can produce barnyard, horse saddle and even ‘poopy’ aromas, it’s fair to say that most winemakers take whatever steps they deem necessary to keep Brett at bay.  And there are some who don’t mind introducing some of these aromas and flavors into their wines, as these winemakers feel that Brett adds a bit of complexity that comingles with the other notes in their wines.  Of course, there are evangelists on both ends of the debate – some winemakers keep their wineries cleaner and tidier than a doctor’s office, while other winemakers leave Brett to do in their winery what it will.  An incredibly high-tech example of the former is Palmaz Vineyards in Napa Valley.  Though I haven’t been to their winery, I once went to a lunch featuring their wines and based on the slideshow they put together, I can’t imagine a more hygienically-correct winemaking facility on the planet.  And on the other end of the spectrum is Chateau Beaucastel, situated iconic Southern Rhone region of Chateauneuf-du-Pape.  As the Pope of All Things Rated, aka Robert Parker, wrote in his book, Wines of the Rhone Valley, “some critics of Beaucastel have argued that the wine possesses an unacceptably high level of brettanomyces… and say that in a finished wine, the wine possesses an unusual, off-putting smell of sweaty saddle leather and horse dung.”

Wines from both Palmaz and Beaucastel come with rather high price tags, but they represent the stark divide that exists among winemakers, critics, consumers and wines at all price points regarding the acceptance of Brett in wine.  So, it comes without surprise that those who believe that Brett is part of terroir (specific to winemaking) dismiss the report that there is a potential for the yeast to be completely eliminated from the winemaking process.  And almost certainly winemakers who cherish pure and pristine fruit driven flavors in their wines are lining up to consult with the geneticists who cracked Brett’s code so they can rid their wineries of what they see as spoilage yeast.  For these winemakers who wish to not have Brett in their wines, winery or vineyard, it seems as though eradicating the bacteria makes sense both economically and helps ensure that a certain style of wine is made more consistently.

One of the questions I posit for the anti-barnyard camp is – Does the absence of Brett guarantee a wine that better captures a wine’s sense of place?  And does this expression of place without Brett necessitate a winemaker to then produce a wine without cultured yeasts, too much sulfur and abandon other ‘interventionist’ winemaking techniques such as reverse osmosis, sous-vide concentration and spinning cones?

As we established above, some winemakers believe that a certain amount of Brett is necessary, either as a part of the winemaking process or as a facilitator of the expression of typicity.  And they contain the excessive spread of Brett more primitive means – cleaning the winery, barrels, etc…  And some believe that Brett should be unbridled and whatever amount finds its way into the bottle is part of a more natural winemaking ethos.

One of the questions I can’t help but ask these ‘more natural’ winemakers is, how much Brett in a wine is acceptable and does the inclusion of Brett in wines mean more than simply having ‘funky’ notes in a wine?  And to follow up, what does funk from Brett in wine really mean?  Clearly the presence of Brett indicates a more natural winemaking process at some level, but does Brett enhance a wine’s sense of place – especially if Brett smells and tastes the same no matter where it’s present.  Brett in Napa Valley will probably yield the same aromas and flavors as Brett in the Bandol, no?

I have my own opinions as to what Brett means in the wine making process*, but I objectively believe that the engineering of Brett out of wines does pose some important philosophical questions that might not necessarily yield clear and exact answers.  For instance, does eradicating Brett using genetic means open a Pandora’s Box of scientific manipulation that will lead winemakers to producing wines that carry fewer and fewer indigenous qualities? Perhaps the floodgates of manipulation are already open as Frankenwines are being produced in every corner of the wine world.  Some of the most highly sought after wines in the world have tannin powder added, acidity removed, become enriched with sugar and beefed up using wine steroids such as Mega Purple.

However, instead of analog additions and extractions, winemakers might be entering a brave new digital world of winemaking that could include more than the simple genetic modification of an unwanted yeast – they might have the ability to alter, with pinpoint precision, the qualities in wine that nature doesn’t bestow upon them in the vineyard.  And that scares the hell out of me.

Your thoughts?

* I do not think Brett is an indicator of terroir in the sense that a bottle of Bandol with brett doesn’t necessarily speak of Provence.  However, I think it does indicate that the winemaker is working towards a more natural wine making environment.  And as long as the barnyardy aromas are in balance with the other qualities of the wine, the expression of place and typicity is not adversely affected. 

 

European Union Looks to Deepen Its Wine Lake

This morning, over coffee and a wonderfully crisp apple, I read through the headlines from the various RSS feeds that come through my inbox.  Among the articles that caught my eye was a piece posted by Decanter this past Sunday.  The short article, Wine Regions Oppose ‘Catastrophic’ EU Expansion Plans, highlights efforts from within the European Union to expand vineyard areas throughout the continent – even into regions and countries that do not currently produce wine.

Producers in prominent winemaking countries are crying foul over the plans.  They believe that expansion of vineyard areas will drive grape prices even lower than current levels.  Many winemakers are still suffering depressed crop prices from the Great Recession.  And for those winemakers with products in the lower end of the pricing spectrum, their brands would be most hurt by the competition.  Though I am no defender of $7 table wine from France or Spain, I can’t help but side with those who are against the proposed expansion for a very simple reason – wine shops and restaurant wine lists are already full of substandard, mass produced wine-like products.  Do we really need to add to the overflowing wine lake that’s full of the likes of Red Bicylette, Lulu and Blue Nun?

For those unaware of how much wine is really in the market, consider this tidbit – each year, Europe distills an eye opening amount of wine into neutral spirits as these grapes do not measure up to the quality standards for even the factory assembled brands stacked in your neighborhood discounter.  And the EU thinks adding vines will enhance their competitiveness in the market?  We need less wine, not more wine!  Unless I am missing something, I can’t help but shake my head and suggest that the EU decreases the quantity of vines already planted and increase the quality of winemaking through less expensive and more efficient methods.  They already have the raw materials for competing with the sugar-laden schlock from other behemoths like Yellowtail and Woodbridge, they simply need to learn how to make their assembly line more efficient.

As for a sense of place, it’s unclear if new vineyards planted in regions such as Bordeaux, Burgundy, Rioja and the Mosel will be allowed to use those appellations on their labels.  I certainly hope not as there are already enough backwater vineyard sites within the best wine regions.  Many offerings coming from these inferior sites are already clogging the market and misleading the consumers into buying wines that lack any semblance of personality and character.  With any luck, officials in the EU will come to their senses and abandon this expansion proposal, but based on the ineffectiveness of European leaders to stem the current financial crisis on the other side of the pond, I wouldn’t count on it.

What We Are Thankful for This Thanksgiving

In the past I have written a buyer’s guide of sorts on what to drink for Thanksgiving, but considering every newspaper, wine blog and major wine publication has already covered the topic ad nauseam, I will simply list the people, places and things from the wine world that I have been thankful for over the past year.  Chances are I will forget something important, but like Mr. Vargas asked in Fast Times, have a heart – I’ve only had one espresso so far this morning.

In no particular order:

The Opportunity to Speak with Joe Dressner

When Joe Dressner passed away a few weeks ago, I wrote a bit about my limited relationship with him.  And as the sadness of his passing was replaced with feelings of appreciation for his efforts as an importer and friend to so many, his friends, family and colleagues drank themselves silly on wines that he helped bring into the US market for countless numbers of wine drinkers to embrace and enjoy.  What I am most thankful for taking out of the handful of conversations I had with Joe was his honesty and uncompromising point of view that great wine should be celebrated for what it is – an expression of vineyard, winemaker and tradition.  And what we should all be thankful for regarding Joe is the impression that he has left on wine drinkers, retailers, sommeliers and up and coming importers and distributors as so many in our business are attempting to emulate his formula – bringing in honest and representative wines into the marketplace for many to enjoy.

The Hill of Madone

Located in the Beaujolais village of Fleurie, the Hill of Madone provided not only the most spectacular view of all ten of the Crus, but was also the first place I have been to in quite some time where it was completely quiet.  No planes, cars, phone calls, text messages or alarm clocks – only wind, and the rustling of swaying Gamay vines.  And the hike down the sun-baked hillside into the town of Fleurie with the promise of carafes of young Beaujolais awaiting us was the perfect ending to an unforgettable afternoon.

Visiting Lopez de Heredia

A winery lost in time – that is the best way to understand what I saw at Lopez de Heredia in Haro, Spain.  It wasn’t difficult to imagine how prior generations made wine there as Maria Jose follows the same practices and uses the same equipment that her father and grandfather did before her.  Like walking into Notre Dame in Paris, you really haven’t been there until you walk in the front door and let the aromas of time and tradition overwhelm your senses.  The walk to dinner from the winery was unforgettable – as was the party in downtown Haro afterwards. I am not quite sure I will ever have the opportunity to participate in a quarter mile long conga line ever again!

Jorge Posada

ot every Yankee fans appreciates how well Jorge Posada played during his tenure in the Bronx.  Though I wanted to throw my remote at the television when he pulled himself from the Red Sox series earlier this year, Posada is one of the best catchers to ever man the plate on 161^st Street.  A borderline hall of famer, Posada is a throwback to another generation and his batting glove-less doubles into the right center field gap will be missed.

Endless Chablis in Noyers

Patrick Piuze, winemaker in Chablis, hosted us when we visited him this past summer.  Instead of the usual winery tour, he took us to the top of the Grand Cru ‘Les Clos’ to explain his winemaking practices and to give us a tour of the rolling hillsides of Chablis.  Afterwards, he gave a magnificent party in the medieval town of Noyers.  Hosting a barbeque until four or so in the morning, Patrick hospitality was second to none on the trip. And the setting couldn’t have been more wonderful.  Noyers, with buildings dating back to the 13^th century, gave me a glimpse into the storied and permanent sense of place that some Europeans towns still maintain today.  Getting up a few hours later for the bus ride to Champagne, now that was something I wasn’t very thankful for…

Our Tomato Garden

For the first time in a couple of years, Mother Nature cooperated and provided my wife and I with a bountiful crop of tomatoes from August through the first few days of November.  Though we still lost a few vines, our backyard tomatoes were a staple at nearly every meal this summer.  I am not a farmer, but the few minutes each day that the garden gives my wife and I to escape are priceless.  Soon enough we will be starting next year’s vines in the hallway!

Authentic Wine

Jamie Goode, author of The Science of Wine, and Sam Harrop, winemaker and author, teamed up to write a wonderful book on responsibly made wine.  Though it is far from a dogmatic manifesto championing all things sulfur and cultured yeast free, it is a well written and accessible guide to all types of wine, while working towards a specific goal – helping wine consumers understand why wine that captures a sense of place should be consumed and enjoyed with curiosity.

Born to Run

In the past year, I have taken up running.  I participated in the Philadelphia Livestrong Event in August and I am training for the Rutgers 13.1 in April.  After a recommendation from a friend, I picked up Born to Run by Christopher McDougall.  The only way I can explain how wonderful of a read this book has become is to compare it to Adventures on the Wine Route by Kermit Lynch.  It’s hook is unavoidable and it was one of the quickest reads I’ve ever picked up.  As my curiosity and sense of wonderment was heightened by Lynch, McDougall has hit the primal note in me and caused me to embrace the innate pleasures that I have for running.

Drinking Wonderfully Delicious and Responsibly Made Wines

I believe that the world has evolved into a bat shit crazy corner of the universe and as the hysteria over greed, power and ideological fanaticism grows, we need a place to escape.  That is why I embrace sense of place.  I believe the best wines in the world capture a sense of place and tell a story with a voice that is distinctive and true.  The best wines don’t need to blow your hair back, they simply make you take pause and exhale.  That brief moment of release can be blissful, even if we don’t know it.  Few beverages can provide this experience and at the top of the list is expressive and honest wine.  We should all be thankful that these wines are readily available in both retail and restaurant settings.  We should all also be open minded enough to give them a chance in our glasses.

Being Able to Share These Wines with Friends and a Loyal Customer Base.

Perhaps what I am most thankful for is the opportunity to share these wines with family, friends and the loyal customers that invite me into their shops and restaurants.  I suppose drinking great wine without friends and family is similar to a tree falling in a forest without anyone around to hear it come down.  And for those in the business that understand their role in bringing vinous delights to their customers, it is comforting to know that wine hasn’t been completely commodified to the point that we haven’t abandoned tradition, story-telling and the romance associated with wines that capture a sense of place.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and remember, with Turkey and various side dishes – Riesling, then Cru Beaujolais.

-John

Hold Your Cahorses and Check Your Facts

Cot, aka Malbec

As I’ve written in the past, I believe it best serves bloggers, of any topic, to focus on the positive side of what they are writing about.  Frankly, the world we live in these days is negative enough.  Though I have been guilty of taking a dogmatic approach in explaining some of my vinous beliefs, we don’t necessarily need wine writers trashing various aspects of the fermented craft, as it can divert attention away from our efforts to bring delicious tidbits to our wine drinking audience.  However, after months of reading the mediocre wine column that appears in the Wall Street Journal, I must admit – it’s getting increasingly difficult to read and recommend others to follow Lettie Teague’s column in the Wall Street Journal.  The Journal itself has evolved into a rag – it’s more of a USA Today of finance than anything else – and sadly, the wine writing has followed suit.  Though there have been some inspired columns written on German Riesling, Burgundy and others, I often read the WSJ wine column with a sense of bewilderment that the newspaper continues to produce a wine column.

As someone who live in a fact-based reality, I become a bit miffed when I read in a major publication (with editors, fact-checkers and well paid writers), a well educated wine journalist such as Teague writes that, “The only region in France where Malbec is still grown is Cahors, where it’s known as Côt Noir.”  As a student of wine and the various cultures that it sprouts, I can’t help but shake my head at the gross inaccuracy of Teague’s statement.  Anyone who has taken five minutes to research Malbec will find that Oz Clarke, Tom Stevenson, Jancis Robinson, Robert Parker, David Peppercorn, Rosemary George and others have written that Malbec is grown in a number of regions throughout France.

What’s the big deal, you ask?  Quite simply, wine writers, whether or not they teach formal classes or conduct tastings, are also educators.  As much as I despise the 100 point system, Robert Parker and his crew at the Wine Advocate, Bruce Sanderson and Co. at Wine Spectator and many other professional tasters also offer wine drinkers an education in understanding wine with relation to where it’s grown.  The one constant theme that resonates throughout my wine classes, tastings and writings here is to offer the wine drinker some information that they didn’t know existed before they arrived at the class or webpage.  And in directing her readers to what she thinks is the only region in France that is still planted with Malbec vines, Teague discounts the efforts of scores of winemakers in Anjou, Touraine, Saumur, other appellations in the South West and of course, Bordeaux.

If synonyms aren't your thing - Malbec playing Malbec in the Touraine

Though Cahors should be recognized as the ‘home’ for Malbec, there are a number of delicious wines on retail shelves and restaurant wine lists from other Malbec-laden French regions.  And if, for argument’s sake, that Cahors is the only region in France that produces Malbec worth seeking out, how come Teague and the WSJ didn’t recommend any of the dozen or so offerings from Cahors that are available on the market?  Instead, she recommends a handful of offerings from Argentina – a country awash in a lake of Malbec so deep that only Shiraz from South East Australia, Pinot Grigio for Venezie and Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand soaks up more discount wine shelves.

I must admit, I don’t edit my content much after writing it and I certainly could use fewer words if I ever hope to write for someone besides myself.  However, I do have an entire wall of wine books and the internet that I use to check my facts before I press the send button.  Perhaps Mrs. Teague and her staff at the Wall Street Journal should do the same.  Believe it or not, there are a few people left in the business who still read the WSJ’s wine column – though most of the time only with a grain of salt.

Teaching Sense of Place – Associating Wine with Colors

Recently I found myself pushing Riesling and various offerings from the Rhone on the mean streets of Staten Island.  Well, not really that mean, but certainly crowded with potholes and traffic jams.  As I visited my friends Deb and Alex at Mission Fine Wines, Deb mentioned that she was beginning an introductory course on wine tasting in January.  She mentioned that she often compares the components of wine to music.  The better the wine, the more the components – acid, sugar, oak, fruit, tannin and earth – harmonize together to produce a balanced and approachable wine.  I offered, and Deb agreed, that a great piece or song is produced in a similar manner.  Whether it’s Mozart, Ella Fitzgerald, Black Flag or Blind Melon, their greatest works, though they are quite distinctive from each other, are balanced, expressive and a delight for the ears.  We concluded that great wines, no matter the price point, offer similar satisfaction for the drinker.

As we tasted through a few wines, I explained to Deb that I often use colors in helping novice wine drinkers understand flavor profiles.  Perhaps the biggest obstacle in teaching newbies about getting their heads around what’s in the glass is building their vocabulary and frame of reference.  For those who often drink Pinot Noir, cherry is a descriptor that pops into their heads because of their tasting experience.  And advanced tasters can identify which region their Pinot Noir comes from by breaking down cherry into sour cherry, bing cherry, red cherry, fresh, dried, stewed, under- ripe and so on and so forth.  How can we get the novice drink to that point?  Perhaps we can teach wine drinkers to differentiate among a group of wines made with the same grape (or similar blends) by associating their places of origins with colors.  This first technique of associating wine with place was introduced to me by my original wine mentor, Francis Schott, proprietor and wine director at Stage Left Restaurant in New Brunswick, New Jersey.

Most Pinot Noir (excluding sparkling, sweet or white versions) should have some sort a cherry of some sort in their flavor profile.  Now, let’s think of cherries in terms of the color red – burgundy red more specifically.  We can choose any color for our purposes – blue, yellow, green or even pink.  However, for our purposes today, we will use red  For instance, a bright, fresh and young California Pinot – from the Russian River say, could be associated with purplish maroon.  An Oregon Pinot Noir, with a little less forward fruit, more earth and brighter acidity can be seen as more maroon than purple.  And then a Burgundy of the same age would fall more solidly into the maroon camp.

Is Your Pinot Violet Red or Red Violet?

And in describing the age and winemaking style of these wines, we can apply textural descriptors.  For instance, the wine drinker can associate younger, fresher styles of the above wines in a semi-gloss kind of way.  If Old World wines are made in an overly traditional manner, the maroon color you associate wines from the Cote d’Or in Burgundy would be matted.  As for the super modern and flashy styles out there, associate them with a higher gloss or shinier purple.  And let us not forget wines that have some bottle age – simply remember them with the same color profile as their younger counterparts, but with more faded texture – depending on their age.

Perhaps this is an incredibly complicated way of understanding wine, but I think it makes sense.  As we attempt to instill confidence in wine drinkers by developing their frame of reference and vocabulary, we need to be creative in finding ways to get descriptors to stick.  Remembering how certain wines identify with their region can be a daunting exercise, but once the light goes off in a wine drinker’s head, it normally stays on.  And the more a wine drinker gains confidence in purchasing wines in wine shops and restaurants the greater the chance that they will begin to drink – and understand – wines that are less ordinary while also capturing a sense of place.

We Need More Bad Religion and Less Green Day in Our Wine

Perhaps I am missing the point or maybe I’m not completely in tune with what’s happening around me, but it seems as though our present social and economic situation is ripe for a counterculture movement of sorts.  Though #occupy groups have set up camp across the country, there seems to be little in the way of expression of discontent with our current state of affairs (Tea Party excluded – remember them?).  As a student of history, perhaps I am being a little impatient. Musicians, artists and students might already be stoking a fire but I can’t yet see the smoke.  However, as a child of the co-opted Gen-X, I take a far more cynical attitude toward are our ability (and desire) to shake up the system these days. Without leaders who actually lead, who will follow?  However, not all hope is lost.  We do have a secret weapon that we can bring to the masses – interesting wine.  Though it might not change the world, wine from relatively unknown producers who call hidden corners of the world home can help shake us free from the reality TV and upscale fast food malaise that has quietly taken hold of our daily lives.

Because these wines often, but not always, stand for something – a sense of place that captures not only distinctive climatic, geological and varietal qualities of a wine, but also speaks with voice that is representative of local tradition and culture.  And why should we care about a wine’s typicity that is formed through circumstances unique to its specific sense of place?  It’s simple, because we are all buying an increasing amount of branded wine that finds its way onto our tables because they fulfill what we think we need in terms of value, consistency and comfort.  And as we continue to imbibe mediocre offerings from general appellations such a ‘California,’ ‘South Eastern Australia’ and ‘Germany,’ we are missing the point on what makes wine so special.

As consumers are being fooled that the big-box attitude towards consumption is the righteous path, some effort is required by keepers of interesting wine to offer them the opportunity to enjoy wines that are a little less ordinary, if for no other reason, saving them from vanilla and coconut laden $9 Zinfandel and Shiraz.  We might be living in a meat and potatoes economy for the foreseeable future, but there has been never been a greater chance for casual wine drinkers to enjoy soundly made, distinctive wines at home or in their favorite restaurants.  An incredibly amount of soundly and responsibly made wine with character is scattered throughout the market, waiting for consumers to walk past the stacks of wine-water that greet them at the door of their wine shop.  And the best part – many of these alternatives to brands aren’t more expensive and offer wine drinkers the ability to sip on something interesting.

Maybe I am a little naïve in thinking that retailers and restaurants care more about giving wine drinker’s the opportunity to try more interesting selections than the bottom line, but the best shops and wine lists carry wines which capture a sense of place that offer consumers more responsibly made wines and also the opportunity to tune in to something special in their glass.  Consumers need more Chuck Berry, Bob Dylan, Bad Religion and less Green Day and Justin Bieber in their wine.  A little more grit and personality prove to be more satisfying polish and overproduction any day.

As I alluded to before, I think that we are ripe for another substance over style punk movement.  How much longer can we consume plaid everything?  Sadly, music probably won’t save us this time around and wine probably won’t either.  However, as wine professionals that are constantly exposed to exciting, and at times, inspiring wines, we have a responsibility to share less ordinary wine with our family, friends, customers and dining room guests.  In doing so, perhaps it will enable them to see not only wine, but the world a little differently.

 

Welcome to the New Wine Culture Project!

Good evening folks,

As you can see, you have been redirected to a new version the Wine Culture Project.  Why the change?  Well, it was time to clean up the old site and I am much more comfortable using the WordPress format compared to the old site as I nearly crashed the site at least once a week.  Also, I see it as a turning point for the Project as I will put up more concise posts with greater frequency.  That means more reading for you!  Who’s excited?  I know I am.  I am not sure when I am going to find time to post as I’ve jumped headlong into studies for the Advanced Master Sommelier exam.  I am not sure I have ever read as much about soils, climate and grapes or have tasted as many wines in my life, but it certainly is worth it.  Two main reasons for my studies.  The first is that I love to read about wine. I live in a college town and I’ve never graduated from the academic life.  And coming from a background in studying history, the academic side of wine thrills me.  Secondly, if I go all the way and pass the final two MS exams, it will provide me with more flexibility within the wine world.  Perhaps more travel, encounters with fascinating wines and the ability to teach wines classes in jeans lies ahead in the future!

Anyhow, that is the long and short of what’s going on at the Wine Culture Project.  I haven’t had the time to transfer all of the old posts from the old site to here, but if you want to go back to the old site and check out what you have been missing – hit winecultureproject.com (minus the www) and that is the backdoor we have set up.

As always, thank you for reading and I hope that the transition treats you well and that you continue to encounter new sense’s of place as you try a bottle or two of something less ordinary.

-John