Avoid elitism.

This blog post provides an excellent summary of why I canceled my subscription to Wine Spectator:

The one thing I can come up with, at least from my California point of view, is that there’s a body of opinion in this State that Wine Spectator is arrogant. This isn’t to say that the magazine’s personalities in California aren’t nice people. It’s just a perception that Wine Spectator has been a little too elitist, too hilfalutin for its own good.

Scroll down in the same post for a reply from Wine Spectator (which I think was focused more at the issue of the Restaurant Reviews than the charge of elitist).

Question?

Is it appropriate to include a wine store on a wedding registry? The lovely young lady and I will need to know.

Hitcens on wine service.

Christopher Hitchens unleashes his acidic pen on wine service at restaurants. Read it here.

Robert Mondavi, R.I.P.

Robert Mondavi has died at 94.

There is something about this quote in this New York Times article that is both funny and true:

Most people in the wine trade understand that consumers have any number of reasons for their buying decisions, whatever their psychological and financial state. Some are reassured by easy-to-understand labels with friendly animals. Others want only naturally produced wines or bottles with a modest carbon footprint. Some are status-seekers and score-chasers, while others are contrarians, or only drink red wine.

But, ignoring the humor, the article later adds this very profound discussion:

What have [wine consumers] done to be singled out from other consumers who might equally be portrayed as knuckling under to hype and salesmanship, like connoisseurs of clothes, handbags or shoes, car aficionados or golf fanatics, food or film lovers?

The answer rests, I think, both in the insecure and uncomfortable attitudes that Americans hold toward wine and in the difficulty of bringing some sort of objective and universal criteria to the fleeting and obscure realms of aroma, taste and texture. . . . [D]rinking more hasn’t made Americans more comfortable with wine. People with little interest in wine tend to see it as somehow foreign and threatening. Even among the curious, fears abound, of being embarrassed or appearing unsophisticated, of choosing the wrong wine, or of liking the wrong one.

Too true. So, how does one better understand, evaluate and appreciate wine?

The trick is to distinguish between the harmful or disingenuous — the marketing come-ons, the point chasing, what the guy next to you thinks — from the beneficial: the food, the company, the environment. Even in a blind tasting situation, wine is evaluated in the company of other wines, which is a different sort of context but a context nonetheless. Perhaps they’ve chosen the best wines to be sipped and spat out, but not the best wines for dinner.

I will post some thoughts on this point later. Until then, I'd recommend reading the whole article.

Hubris in the wine market.

Check out this excellent post from Vinography on the hubris of at least one cult winemaker.

Wine bars aren't fun?

James Suckling asks (in relation to "beer bars"):

Why can’t wine bars be so buzzy, fun and full of comradery?

Answer: (American?) wine culture is too pretentious to enjoy wine in a pub-type setting. Just check out the advertisements in either Wine Spectator or Wine Enthusiast to see what I mean....

Snobbery

An influential wine critic recently wrote:

Sometimes, it seems, that having an opinion about a wine is as important if not more so than having actually tried it. It’s easy to knock a $200 Cabernet for price, or ding a cult Pinot for being Syrah-ish.

I say this having had many occasions where I’ve talked to wine drinkers and after discussing wines, it becomes apparent that we have entirely different impressions.

Most times I ask: “Have you ever tried the wine?” Or “Are we talking about the same wine?”

You’d be amazed by how many times those same people say that, well, no, they haven’t tried it … but they’ve heard.

For now, I will leave to the side the implicit defense of Syrah-ish Pinot and $200 Cult Cabernet (which, given the difficulty of getting a Cult Cab, turns to at least $500 in the secondary market) -- but thank you, Mr. Critic, for implicitly identifying where you stand on that debate.

Instead, look at his response to such criticisms and how that response is used: "Have you tried the wine?" In this context, his response is used to shut up the counterparty, and not to defend the criticized practice. Of course, the circumstances demonstrate how unfair this response is. As the California critic for Wine Spectator, he is able to try thousands of wines a year -- both in his job as an official reviewer, and through the access that job gives him to the wine industry. How likely is it that he has to pay for even a fraction of those wines? Given the prices of California wine (especially the Cult Cabs), he is probably able to put six figures worth of wine in his mouth every year.

Six figures. And he begrudges his counterparty for complaining about the implicit lack of access for Cult Cabs found in their prices. In effect, his response is equivalent to someone of privilege scoffing at those less fortunate because of their lack of privilege.

This is snobbery. A better response would have been to say: "Have you tried the wine? If not, let's try it together and share our thoughts then." Wine should always be about discovery, and even the uninitiated will teach the experienced a thing or two.

Unfortunately, wine is a field that tends to collect snobs, whether it is the privileged few who look down on the uninitiated, or the ignorant who like to puff up their chests by feigning knowledge. By reinforcing the appearance of knowing more about wine than someone else (no matter the actual level of knowledge), one tries to come off as cultured in a way that one is not. In either case, how one treats their knowledge of wine is a great check for arrogance, intellectual thuggery, or insincerity, and gives new meaning to the phrase: In vino veritas.

Undue influence of wine critics.

So, a major wine critic recently wrote about his own personal preferences for wine. We also have recent a study pointing out that consistently high scores from recognized critics will put upward pressure on the price of wine. Throw in the absolute idiocy of the 100-point scale, and we get a wine market that's skewed (in the premium categories) to the tastes of a few influential critics.

It's insane. Wine publications push the 100-point scale because status consumers like saying they have the hot bottles (wine-pun intended) that JL, RP, et al. love. The new, wannabes make wines that sell -- before a single vintage is released -- for over $100 a bottle (sorry, but buying Screaming Eagle is different from knowing wine). And I don't think I need to say anything about Bordeaux.

It makes absolutely no sense for a global industry to operate in this manner -- and why it simply cannot last forever. As morbid as it may be, it will be interesting to see what happens to the value of Cult Cabs should the heirs to JL and RP have different tastes.

Faux oenophiles.

Tonight, I had the pleasure of meeting a faux oenophile -- my first experience. A faux oenophile is someone who doesn't appreciate wine for its qualities, but rather for the status it projects. How did I spot him? When I asked about his favorite wines, he focused on a well known (and expensive) producer and expressed his appreciation for the wine only because it was "smooth." Later, when asked about specific bottles he had in his cellar, he could not recall names. In short, he exhibited a lack of depth yet retained an eagerness to express the cost of his "taste." In terms of individuals who cause more damage to the wine market or wine consumers, the only person I loathe more is the Philosopher King oenophile -- one who treats their knowledge of wine as being so specialized, that they are above criticism.

Does wine require an advanced degree?

I often hear other people say "I like wine, but all I know is what I like or don't like." This view reflects a fallacy, I think, that is sadly encouraged by many wine advocates and marketers. One easily knows of people who encourage such a view -- anyone who eagerly plays up their knowledge of a subject. Someone who likes to make others feel inferior by what they don't know. Such a person deters others from learning about a subject because of that person's desire to play up their knowledge or to say "no" too often without saying "yes." Such hubris has no place in life (whether it's wine or any other subject), and simply deters others from learning about all the wonderful things that wine has to offer.

All that one needs to know about wine is what one likes and does not like. First, it starts with the varietals one likes. From there, it turns into what characteristics of those varietals one likes. For example, I prefer older Cabernet to younger Cabernet. While fruit is important, I also want tobacco and other flavors. Fruit bombs, while tasty, are not preferred. All this knowledge comes from experience -- no classes, no professional training. Just simple experience.

So the lesson, if there is one, is to try what one can, and to avoid anyone who feels like he or she must make themselves important by making one feel insignificant.

Elitism of wine.

The good professor raises the "sad commentary on the role of wine in American class warfare." The only sad thing about this commentary is that it's a role that the wine industry and the wine consumer class have self-imposed. I admit it -- I am very fortunate to have a significant income stream. However, even I look on a $1479 auction price for a 1999 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon as obscene. But never mind the higher end of the wine market -- walk into a wine merchant, and an average consumer would see $50 prices for many bottles of Cabernets, $20 to $50 prices for Chardonnays and even prices upwards of $60 for Merlots. And that's without considering the French wines.... For someone making about $40,000 a year, any one of those bottles could cost about 10% of a weekly take home pay -- a luxury that many people can afford only for the most special occasions. And if one can only consume wine on a special occassion, how does one view someone who can afford to consume wine for less-than-special occasions or in large gatherings? So, is wine a sign of elitism? The answer, unfortunately, is yes.