The Good Old Days of Drinking Wine

Recently I came across an article on food & wine concerning past predictions and their contemporary results as put forth by Bobby Parker some time ago. An interesting enough read, but one portion of the interview I thought was rather telling as to the direction of American wine culture compared to that established 30 years ago, was the amount Mr. Parker paid for 1st and 2nd growth Bordeaux in 1983.

“In 1983, I paid $110 for a case of the extraordinary 1982 Pichon Lalande and $550 for the 1982 Mouton.”

    Chateau Mouton Rothschild at the time was going for about $45.83 per bottle. Admittedly not cheap, but also not completely prohibitive. According to the Consumer Price Index inflation calculator, in the sense of today’s economy that would be worth about $105.65 a bottle for the Mouton while the Pichon would be just over $20. Care to hazard a guess as to what that wine actually costs today? A quick inquiry on wine-searcher.com lists the average price of the 2010 vintage of the Mouton at $1184.00 per bottle with the Pichon averaging $242 per bottle.

    World class wine that was once within reach of the everyman (after cracking open the piggy-bank or perhaps searching for change through a few dozen couches) is now so prohibitively expensive that even working within the wine industry I can’t say that I will ever taste any of the 1st growths. What caused this price inflation? In the ‘90’s it was a booming Japanese economy of a new wine drinking culture searching for trophy bottles, and now China is home to some of the biggest auctions in wine history. More wine drinkers means more enthusiasts vying for the classics.

Even presented with the opportunity to taste heralded vintages of first growths, the experience would be marred with suspicions of fraud due to recent cases of wine counterfeiting (I’m thinking of you Rudy Kurwinian.) After all the seed of an idea once planted is very difficult to uproot.

But what bearing does this really have? One implication came to mind when I was watching the trailer for the movie Somm. There was a point where an enthusiastic taster could buy the different crus of Barolo or a handful of left bank Bordeaux to learn the characteristics of each cru or commune. Saint-Estephe over Pauillac? To do that now could drive someone into bankruptcy. While taking* the level 2 test through the Court of Master Sommeliers there were questions about whether certain chateau were classified as 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, or 5th growth. That is to memorize a list of more than 50 chateau and their classifications.

In three years I have had one to two people looking for classed growth Bordeaux.

Aspects of the wine industry linger in a world no longer relevant to the average consumer, which is unfortunate. But don’t worry, I am building up to the advantage in being a wine enthusiast in this day and age. While most of us may not be able to thoroughly learn all the cru’s of Barolo, Barbaresco, Bordeaux, and Burgundy the use of modern technology and winemaking techniques have made more wine created from a greater array of varietals from farther corners of the world more available to everyone. And thanks to climate change (or, the conspiracy of climate change purported by liberals) weather conditions have made for much more consistent vintages from year to year and will continue to do so until we exist in some sort of Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome sort of world. In 1983 I doubt that Robert Parker could have bought consistently good Assyrtiko from Santorini in Greece, dry Furmint from Hungary, or wines from the Canary Islands.    

My personal favorite advantage to the times? Technology, especially the internet, has made information about wine easily available to anybody seeking it, and this has helped raise the average level of knowledge of even casual wine consumers. More informed consumers and wine drinkers give further incentive for producers to create more unique wines of better quality; it’s also the driving force behind regional revivals in regions throughout the world that are shifting focus from quantity of grapes to quality. Even though it is easy to lament bygone days of drinking top class wines, I’ll be perfectly content with the abundant options for good wine sub-20$ a bottle. 

*Full disclosure: I took the sommelier certification test, and though I passed the written and blind tasting portions of the exam, I failed due to insufficient preparation and performance for the service portion of the exam.

An Instance in which I Post Other People's Blogs

In this week's episode I reference you to wine writers I follow on a regular basis who have recently written a few articles of interest.

For those who haven't heard, a few months ago one Robert Parker sold a controlling interest of the Wine Advocate to a group of Singapore investors. Mike Steinberger covered that issue at the end of December here as well as the issue of point inflation in the same magazine here.

With a more scientific bent, W. Blake Gray recently covered in two columns the role of brettanomyces, a yeast of much heated debate, in the flavors of wine. It seems UC Davis is finally conceding that brettanomyces may not be a flaw, or unwanted infection, in wine but a part of why some consistent flavors are found in wines of a particular region.

I follow both of these writers because their coverage of the wine world comes from quite a bit of experience and I respect both of them. So sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee with a few articles to enrich your wine know how and sometime soon I might even come up with something original!

Starting a Modest Wine Cellar

As a particular year of a particular wine sells out and the new vintage is released we end up with two wines from the same winery from two different years of production. Conveniently, this occurred with a two different wines right around the same time that a friend of mine expressed interest in perhaps starting a cellar. A perfect excuse for a tasting in the name of education.

Six of us got together to taste through four different bottles: the Yalumba Bushvine Grenache from 2007 and 2010 along with the 2005 and 2007 Cuvee Bastien from Domaine Fontaine, a malbec from Cahors. I wasn’t sure how all of the wines would show, but I at least knew that they would illustrate a point in what happens as a result of bottle age and different vintages. What ended up happening, to my surprise, was that the wine I had the least faith in, the Yalumba 2007 Bushvine Grenache, was agreed upon to be the crowd favorite. The 2010 of the same wine showed a certain brashness that would have been less noticeable if it had been tasted on its own. Second on the list of favorites was the 2005 Fontaine, due to its 2007 incarnation showed much more prominent tannin.

This was not the first time where I’ve seen modestly priced wines aging well and it helped reinforced the belief I have that one does not need a boatload of cash to be able to have a ‘wine cellar’ or age wine. The Yalumba, for example, has a shelf price of $17.99 and the Cuvee Bastien I have seen priced from $14.99 to $18.99. I used to think, and imagine many others currently do, that you would have to spend some serious coin to be able to age wine. This tasting was a great example of how well wines under $20 that were 5 and 7 years old, respectively, showed. The trick of course is finding wine capable of aging well as not just anything will.

What a wine needs to age is some sort of preserving element and the natural elements found in wine are tannin, acid, or sugar. These elements are needed in balance, so that means Barefoot Moscato is not gonna hang on. And I certainly don’t have a lot of faith in Yellow Tail Cabernet Sauvignon either. Mondavi’s Woodbridge Riesling? Hell no.

Step one: buy a bottle of wine.

Step two: have a glass, but just one.

Step three: put the cork back in the bottle and taste it again the next day.

Step four: repeat step three until you run out of wine or it starts tasting bad.

At the store we’ve tried $16 wines from the Canary Islands that were delicious as far as four days out. Domaine de la Pinte’s 2005 Savagnin peaked after four days. $35 a bottle, not cheap, but nowhere near Grand Cru Burgundy or 1st Growth Bordeaux. Now this isn’t going to give you a precise time of how long a wine can go, but it will give you an idea.

Do a little homework to find reputable producers and spend $12 to $25 dollars per bottle. With tannin from the grape skins, reds give you a plentiful supply of options. Italian wines like Chianti, aglianico, Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, and Nebbiolo based wines from the north are all easy options. In France the pinot noir based reds of Burgundy, the wines of the Rhone, Bordeaux, and the reds of the south have varying degrees of potential. The list of possible grapes and regions is just too long to list.

Whites are not as often thought of, but good German, Austrian, or Alsatian riesling has real staying power. Chenin blanc from Loire labeled under Vouvray, Montlouis sur Loire, or Savennieres is some of the most fascinating wine you can find with some age on it. And if you’re going to do chardonnay, Chablis all the way.

The other problem I frequently hear is that people just don’t have the patience to age wine and it’s just too easy to drink. The solution: just don’t drink the wine! Set some wine aside for later consumption (put a don’t drink until date somewhere on the bottle) and some for near term consumption: cellar savers.

Since I’ve only started a cellar in the last two years, and have limited space and finances, this is what I have set aside right now.

• $15.99 / bottle - Chionetti 2006 Dolcetto di Dogliani (down to 3 bottles from my original case)
• $17.99 / bottle - Domaine de la Pepiere 2010 Muscadet (6 bottles)
• ~$16.99 / bottle - Russian River Brewing co. Supplication (10 bottles down from 12)
• ~$80 / bottle - Tenuta delle Terre Nere 2005 Calderara Sottana (1.5L)
• ~$54.99 / bottle - Marcel Lapierre 2011 Morgon (1.5L)
• ~$24.99 / bottle - Domaine Diochan 2008 Moulin a Vent (2 bottles down from... 10 maybe?)

The prices listed are full retail before whatever discounts your retailer may offer. And a few of these I bought on closeout, which means the price was much lower than what the average listed above retail price is. So there are clearly options, and you’ll notice with the third item on the list, even beer options! Explore the wines you already like, figure a budget, and start a modest cellar; you’ll be surprised at the number of years of drinking pleasure you’ll be able to derive from some smart shopping.

Thanksgiving: A Retrospective.

Wine to go with turkey.
Having more or less survived the first rush of holiday buying I thought it was time to consider some aspects of wine drinking and retailing after the fact. If you look really closely to the photo above and see past the cranberry sauce, gravy, mashed potatoes (regular & sweet), the vegan pot pie and stuffed onion you will see a piece of turkey. In the middle of stabbing wantonly about the plate and swilling Saumur-Champigny from Terry Germain, I was reminded of those customers asking for wine to go with turkey, just turkey.

There is still a common cry for pinot noir from most people, probably because it’s the always the most heavily recommended wine from any newspaper or magazine wine column. Why is that you might ask? I have a theory, and it’s not the movie Sideways. Before the mid 90’s and the early aughts there was a lack of free and intelligent wine information in the form of the internet; blogs, wikipedia, wine writers from magazines, newspapers, etc. The literature most prominently available at the time (Wine Advocate & Spectator) was saturated with 90+ point wines of massive alcohol and heavy handed new oak. The kind of wines so extreme in every way that they lacked balance necessary to ease along a Thanksgiving meal.

I’d like to see anyone try to put down a bottle of Molly Dooker, or any Zinfandel at 16.5% abv, and not get into some sort of argument or fall asleep at the table.

So the existing writers grasped onto the buoy of pinot noir for Thanksgiving. Why not? Lower natural alcohol, higher natural acidity, freshness of fruit (ideally) - it all adds up to something one could easily enjoy with a meal. This advice was contagious, and besides, it’s easier to go into any ol’ retail shop and ask if they have pinot noir. Going to a shop and finding red from Chinon or pelaverga based wine from Piedmont in Italy is tougher at times.

The advice I gave to people was to look for mid-weight wines of balance, lower alcohol, and freshness. Aside from red Burgundy I was recommending a lot of lighter weight reds from southern Rhone, northern Italy, or the Loire valley, even some Austrian zweigelt or blaufrankisch. It’s advice that will hold through all the big meals in the holiday season.

For the record, I took a bottle of Herman J. Wiemer’s 2006 Brut (disgorged in 2010) and Domaine des Roches Neuves 2010 Saumur Champigny.

I could always say drink what you like though. All those people I saw drinking Yellowtail Shiraz at a b.y.o. sushi place in Philly can’t be wrong... can they?

I guess I need a bottle of wine because it’s thanksgiving...
I had at least a half dozen customers over the week whom I found wandering about the wine floor and each had their own shopping cart full of fabulous Belgian beer (we had a sale going on.) The usual disclaimer was, “I know my beer, but I’m lost on wine...” and they wanted a bottle or two of wine just in case someone actually wanted wine with their meal.

I say pair nothing but beer with your meal, you’ll do just fine. The same principles apply to beer as they do to wine. This is not the time for barley wines, imperial stouts, or Belgian quads. This is the time for saisons, triples, German lagers/pilsners, Flemish sours and sour brown ales. Pair the whole meal with beer and embrace it. If you have a 95 year old grandmother that only drinks white zinfandel, get her that bottle. She’s 95, she’s earned it. Otherwise, get some seriously good beer and enjoy.

Shopping the day of
1. Don’t do it.
2. If you must, then do it early. After 11 a.m. all bets are off.
3. If it’s after 11 a.m. you will find yourself in the company of shoppers who either can’t stand sobriety for more than six hours and did not prepare well for the limited retail hours. Or you might find yourself rubbing elbows with ‘serious’ wine buyers who only purchase wine that comes in a carafe bottle.

Should you really be paying attention to wine points?

In October the Delaware Rock Gym had a climbing competition. To prepare for such a thing many people had to create routes with beginnings and ends that would have a difficulty based on the moves required to succeed in each climb from start to finish.

To establish that difficulty we (staff and friends not planning on competing) would climb the boulder problems and weigh in on what we thought the difficulty was. While myself and Danielle thought one way, some of our co-workers felt another about the rankings in certain categories.

Now what could this possibly have to do with wine?

In rating these climbs for difficulty we were all doing so based on our personal strengths and weaknesses, whether we admitted it or not, it is what we do. I, for example, have tremendous reach but comparatively low strength. Meanwhile, a few of my fellow climbers don't have the same wingspan that I do, but they make up for it in sheer power. So when each person attempts, or completes, a climb they claim a difficulty based on how easy it was for them to finish said climb. This is also what happens when wine is rated on a point system.

In climbing one can say there are objective moves, holds, or techniques that are more advanced and require a more difficult grade. In wine, once one has moved passed the decision of whether or not a wine is flawed or sound, it could be said that there are (reasonably) objective levels of acidity, sugar, or tannin that equate to a certain flavor profile. Whether that flavor profile merits 100 points (!) or whether it rates a measly 94 points [ :( ] depends entirely on any number of factors.

If you like the idea of ranking wines against each other, and at times themselves, it could be worthwhile to follow these ratings. Though some of us in the industry, not that it is a big secret, do not put a lot of stock in wine ratings.

Picture a child's report card; in the second half of 5th grade little Ruddiger Fitzpatrick received a C- in literature. Does that mean you would assign a C- to Fitzpatrick in comprehending, discussing, and creating within the literary arts for his whole life? Or even rate him the same within Russian, Irish, Japanese, or Estonian lit? No. That grade is just a screen shot of his experience at one moment in time, hell even Einstein failed once or twice.

Wine is precisely the same way. Much like the wee Fitzpatrick will (or will not) grow in his ability to appreciate and perceive literature, wine the first year it is in bottle will taste and rate quite differently than the same wine 5 to 7 years after it has been put into bottle. The same wine will also change whether you have it by itself, aside a big honkin' steak, or with a salad.

To me grading wines on a static scale in some sort of tasting vacuum makes no sense, but that doesn't mean my opinions on the scale are right, it just means that there are folks who will agree and disagree with me.

Whether or not you like a numerical point system, the key is finding those whose palates you agree with engaging in a little discussion or research to help find a wine you like. If you like solid clear cut numbers, find a reviewer you like and look for their points. It doesn't matter if it's Jancis Robinson, Eric Asimov, Robert Parker, or Jon Rimmerman, what matters is you find a kindred spirit and you make sure it is their points as opposed to an arbitrary 92 points from 'wine and grape drink magazine.'


Just remember: high points, or cost, does not mean you'll enjoy a wine (or beer) and a lack there of does not mean you won't enjoy it. There is always some subjectivity to what you taste!

5 Grapes / regions that more people need to start trying.

I'm always happy to see people shopping for wine, don't get me wrong, but it seems like there are grapes or places people get pigeonholed into and settle in comfortably never to extricate themselves for something new. What I find most striking is the avoidance to branching out because, as one perplexing customer put to me, "I've never had it before, how do I know if I'll like it?"

That makes me wonder about their existence as a whole. No travel? No new food? No new movies? The hermit lifestyle must be difficult if not comforting.

1.) Beaujolais - The wines labeled Beaujolais Villages are often easy, fruit forward, and possessing a tell tale aromatic of some carbonic maceration (they only ferment by the whole bunch, baby!) The real magic comes in the 'crus' of Beaujolais: Moulin-a-Vent, Morgon, Chenas, Cote du Brouilly, etc. What really fascinates me about these wines are not the initial fruit aromas but the sneaky aromas and flavors on the side. The saline savoriness of Cote du Brouilly, the hint of something animal in Moulin-a-Vent, the flowers in Fleurie, and the stones in Chenas.

Pricing is pretty fair too, the top of the top-hard-to-get-geek-out-over and go crazy Beaujolais are in the low $40's. Not cheap, but when compared to Burgundy proper, practically anything from California, or top flight Bordeaux these wines downright cheap.

2.) Riesling - Yes Paul Grieco has been doing Summer of Riesling since 2008 and yes practically every interview I've ever read with a sommelier in any food and wine magazine has them raving about riesling, but there is a reason for that. There's focus, age-ability, and a complete range of dry with mouth searing acidity to dessert wine sweet that coats the entire mouth like the finest grape-y juice from the peaks of Mount Olympus.

The problem for riesling is when it's maligned by its out of balance incarnations that have either too much or too little sugar or acid. The power of many a Rheingau, the pleasant hint of sweetness underlying so many Mosel bottles, and the crazy minerality of Wachau in Austria. Come on, these wines show so much of where they're from and frankly, they are just cool.

3. Greece - The desire to have more people interested in Greek wines, honestly, is a quasi selfish desire. Just like my desire to have more people interested in Corsican wine (the more people interested, the more that sell, the more that sell the more I can taste!) The wines I've had from Greece to date have as versatile a range as many other parts of the world; reds that are anywhere from plush and soft to peppery and downright animal, and whites with flowers, fruit, and minerals to keep any one interested.

And for the problem, as there always is one: what do people know about Greece? Ouzo and retsina. Not a good start. Reds from Naoussa or Nemea are not huge leaps for people who drink some more classic incarnations of tempranillo or perhaps drier lighter weight Loire cab francs. The most interesting whites I've tasted so far have been from the island of Santorini. Assyrtiko is the primary varietal used in primarily volcanic soil. They have a persistent minerality that should be appreciable by higher end albarino drinkers or fans of Chablis.

4. Savoie & Jura - When I started at the 'ol State Line we had 3 or 4 wines from Jura and maybe 3 from Savoie. Now we have closer to 8 from Jura and about a dozen from Savoie (and I'll include Bugey since it's just across the river.) The regions themselves are in the east of France, Jura is about an hour east of Burgundy, and Savoie is right up against the Swiss border on the south side of Lake Geneva.

These wines have a little bit easier of a time getting their foot in the door than the ones I've mentioned so far. They have basically no reputation among non-serious wine drinkers, which means it's tough to bring a prejudice to the table, pricing starts at $10 a bottle and goes up to $80 plus for some tougher to get dessert wines, and there is a good range including delicious bubblies. The only aspect jarring to some people is the oxidative and high toned style exhibited in wines from Jura (often Sherry like.) With a little introduction though, some people take very strongly to these wines, myself included.

5. Burgundy - This may seem a bit confusing since Burgundy is probably the most famous wine region in the world, with some of the most expensive bottles, and some of the best known domaines. Burgundy does fine amongst serious collectors and has some great fans, but getting everyday wine drinkers into it sure is tough.

Whenever I happen upon some one in the shop looking for pinot noir once they know where we keep the Oregon and California pinot noir I would probably have to physically drag them to the red Burgundy section, because for some reason there is major aversion to even looking at the Burgundies. Even though, balk if you will, that's where the best pinot value is in my opinion.

White Burgundy is tougher too. Either most of our customers come looking for white Burgundy, or they come looking for a chardonnay they recognize. Almost always Californian. For all the $10 to $15 Cali wine you can buy, there are rivers of Macon Villages at the same price. For all the over oaked, over alcoholic, over malo-lactic, and over priced Cali wines you can buy there stellar ranges of flavor under $40 in Burgundy. When I think of the wild yeast fermented Guillemot-Michel in the mid $20's or the intensely rich, but balanced, Vire-Clesse from Thevenet at about $34, I can't believe some of the things people charge on the west coast.

I would be concerned I was getting too geeky, but I didn't mention Ribolla Gialla or orange wines made by Sistercian Nuns once, so I think I'm still safe.

Mezcal, a new way to get seriously geeky.

 We're all familiar with Tequila, some of us are so familiar that we swear it off forever. In a retail environment it is often the most maligned spirit by my customers due to a single night of unadulterated agave driven madness.

Get over it. Drinking too much happens, don't write off an entire tradition of distilling because of one night with Jose Cuervo and a double shot glass.

The title of this post is about mezcal, but the first thing mentioned is tequila. Why? All tequila is mezcal but not all mezcal is tequila, I would even draw a Venn diagram if I could figure out how to use Microsoft Paint. Tequila  is made with a specific variety of agave, agave tequilana, and produced within legally defined geographical limits in the Mexican state of Jalisco. The agave hearts after harvest are baked in large kilns to convert the starches to sugars that can be converted into alcohol.

Mezcal is the umbrella term for spirits made with agave that do not fall into the Tequila appellation of origin, and many of the ones I've tasted recently that are available at reasonable prices come from Oaxaca. Aside from regional differences, artisanal mezcals are made from different varietals of agave and buried in pit ovens or earthen mounds with stunningly hot rocks. This roasting takes place for days (3 seems to be a popular number) and turned into an alcoholic beverage to be distilled. The difference between the kiln roasting and the pit roasting is immediately obvious, even to those completely unfamiliar with tequila or mezcal.

The mezcals are smokey, oily in texture, totally bizarre, and very cool. On their own they are tremendously intense and idiosyncratic while in mixed drinks they produce extra dimensions of flavor that push boundaries and intrigue the drinker. The diversity of cocktail recipes are easy enough to find.

The real geek potential is in the minutiae of mezcal; just like hop or malt choice in beer, regional production of single malt scotches, and production methods or mesoclimates of wine, mezcal differences are easy to bond over and find perceived superiority.

Get serious beer geeks together, they may bond over styles of beer, or more interestingly, they argue about them. Do IPA's express terroir in hops or is one hop better than another? Do the Belgians, dare I say maybe the Germans make the best beer? Or are they left behind in this new world of American craft brew creativity? Is there anything more complex than a well aged aged sour beer?

Get wine fans together, they will throw down over regional superiority, Chablis v. Carneros, Napa v. Bordeaux, Australia v. North Rhone. New oak or old oak? Indigenous or commercial yeast strains? Technology, tradition, scholastic training, or hereditary knowledge,  et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...

When you see that these mezcals are coming from different altitudes, single villages, and different agave varietals you may let the geeking begin. The mezcals pictured above are courtesy of a group called Los Danzantes who have the goal of preserving local characters in food and spirits.

The line I tasted recently was their Alipus label: San Andres, San Baltazar, and San Juan. They were all tasted neat at room temperature without dilution, so obviously there's a lot more room to experiment with. Each of these distillates come from different elevations, they are made with espadin agave, and each one is from a different locations.

The San Andres was spicy, lightest of the three, and had underlying citrus flavors that kept it very well balanced. San Baltazar was viscous, powerful, smokey, and intense. And the San Juan struck me as slightly sweet, delicate, and with hints of woody herbs.

All different, and certainly all capable of inspiring discussion and experimentation. Let the geeking begin!