Thursday, May 28, 2009

A Rosé for Any Reason

As these words appear on the page, outside my window the sky has its own idea about what a rosé is. Of course, in the early morning the idea of a rosé is an evolving one. Right now we’re in a Franciacorta rosé moment. As Spring winds down and Summer is setting the stage for its moment, wine lovers love to talk about rosé.

Outside, a helicopter draws away the last of any color from the morning sky. So here we have the elusive moment for rosé. Just when you think its time to sell, drink and share this wine, isn’t autumn announcing its time to put away the toys and get back to the real stuff of wine? Well, here in flyover country we have at least four months before that will happen, and by then who knows what the world will have in store for us?

Copper River salmon are streaming into the local food shops, and at $27 a pound, one cannot always afford a Bandol Rosé from Domaine Tempier. One of my go to wines is the La Scolca Rosa Chiara. I know purists probably won’t agree with me, but they don’t run my life. And I love this wine. It’s lively, had a wonderful color and enough body to go with the salmon I love. Maybe it’s my lack of agenda when it comes to enjoying a wine, but I find pleasure in the enjoyment of this rosé. I love the color. I like the aromas. I like the fruit. And the body. It’s gulpable. And on a picnic in the park, listening to a Beatles or Stones or Texas Swing cover band, it’s pure summer. Not quite tiny bikinis, but enough skin to tempt and tantalize.

Texas foods, like chicken livers and the baked Italian chicken that my aunt taught me to make go well with anything. But if I have a bottle of a deep rosé like one from Abruzzo, Calabria or Sicily, all the better. Three that I like are the Illuminati Campirosa, The Librandi Rosato and the Regaleali Le Rosé. These are more deeply colored and with a fuller body. The spice and the fuller flavors match well with fried foods and again make for a wonderful evening on a porch or a patio, sipping with friends and your favorite warm weather comfort foods.

Seasonal warming brings out the grills and makes for a nice transition to the outdoors, if only for an evening. Here in Texas we are preparing for the onslaught of mosquito season, so while we feast we will also be feasted upon. Fish on the grill reminds me of the Maremma and so a rosé from that area is a great way to sooth oneself. Marco Bacci’s estate near Grossetto, Terré di Talamo, brings some of us his Piano Piano, a Sangiovese/ Cabernet blend (with maybe a little Alicante as well, eh Marco?). Light in color, fresh, in a word, deelish.

Last summer I trekked to Chicago for a few days. One of the highlights of the trip was to make the pilgrimage to one of the great pizza ovens in America, Spaccanapoli. These are pizzas elevated beyond mere comfort food. And to have them with beer, while that might be great, well, we just had to have a little wine. One of the wines I loved with the two pizzas pictured was the Cavalchina Bardolino Chiaretto. Same grapes as Valpolicella (Corvina, Rondinella and Molinara) with a delicate color, light flavors, just one giant bottle of yum.

We started with a sky the color of Franciacorta rosé. For me the morning are serious stuff, so Franciacorta gets the nod for my serious morning rosé fix, if I were on vacation or if I stayed up all night. But a little to the east over in Valdobbiadene the Prosecco folks are jumping on the rosé bandwagon. And our friends at Bisol have come out with this little rosé called Jeio. It’s a perfect wine to sip on the porch while I watch my bees working furiously before the light of the day comes to an end. Here we are, not for me it is time to go to work, selling, not blogging. Getting through another tough month. Ah well, the bees don’t complain, why should I? I’ll just chill a bottle of the Jeio rosé for this evening. That’s reason enough.




Sunday, May 24, 2009

Interview with an Italian Sommelier

By Beatrice Russo

I got a call from IWG, he was heading out, could I come over and watch his house and his tomato plants? $100 a day to look after the old man’s crap, sure why not? As the taxi pulled up he was rushing to catch up with his adventure. “Where are you going?” I asked. “To a place where these cell phones and internets don’t go.” “When will you be back?” We were changing places in the cab. “I’ll be back soon. Just watch the house, don’t let your friends leave anything in their cars if they park in front of the house. And one more thing, that interview with the Italian wine sommelier, why don’t you test drive it around my blog?” He handed me the keys to his silver bullet, cool, quick German sedan and told me to drive safe. Yeah. Uh huh.

After popping a bottle of Saten and settling in for the weekend, nothing new but Slumdog Millionaire on his DVD shelf, I called my friend and polished off the interview along with the bottle of bubbly.

I’m young and underemployed, but free. But some of my somm-buddies, here and in Italy are pushed to a breaking point. Lots of work, not a lot of money, working on all the days when everyone wants to be playing, and watching all the old folks having time and money. Meh.

So here’s my rough-form, this so-called Interview with an Italian sommelier.

My friend Andrea has been a sommelier in a pretty fancy place, lot of alto-borghese types ordering Patron and Sassicaia. The past six months have been a major pain. Hours cut, inventory cut, customer count down, cost per bottle average down. Not what Andrea thought when getting seduced into this business.

First question: So, Andrea, tell me what are people drinking?
Andrea- more quartinos than bottles, more glasses than quartinos. Our normal clientele usually were high rolling types. I think they still want to be, but their resources have disappeared. So they come in and order a Barbera instead of a Barolo, and a Rosso di Montalcino instead of a Brunello.

Q- And there’s something wrong with that? Aren’t those wines pretty goods these days?
A- Senza dubbio, indeed. But I really wonder if they liked those wines in the first place or if they just come in to order them because they think someone wants them to like them because of their place in the society. Do you know what I mean?

Q- No I don’t.
A- Well, this society worships title and prestige. Everyone wants to drive in Ferrari, wearing Dolce & Gabbana, drinking the finest wine in the world. And here it is like the higher you can make yourself to appear, the closer you will get to the people who have what you want. And with wine, it might become a status symbol too, but did it start out that way? Did Monfortino decide to become unbearably precious so long ago?

Q- Oh, that. Italian Wine Guy has been ranting about the price of wine lately, but I thought it was just because of the mark ups he has seen lately in his markets.
A- I don’t know about that, but I have read recently a good piece in the American wine press from Matt Kramer where he talks about a bottle of wine costing not more than €12 to make. And then he talked about a Chilean wine that was selling in the States for about $12 that he really liked. Maybe my clientele are finding that they like Barbera or Rosso do Montalcino for that reason.

Q- Yeah. Well that’s if your manager or accountant doesn’t get greedy. I have a friend who is a bartender at an Italian place and they just got a great review. And what was the first thing they did? They raised the price of all the food menu items $2 and then they started raising the wine prices. A bottle of Chianti Classico that they paid $11 for they already had at $46 and they want to raise even more?
A- Maybe they don’t have as many people coming in and they need to keep the doors open.

Q- They won’t make it through the summer if they do. But enough about what I’m seeing, over here most of the folks except crazy-wonderful Antonio think they have to mark things up like they’re a gentleman’s club?
A- Gentleman’s club?

Q- Lap dance place
A- Oh. Yes they mark up high here to in those places. So I’m told by friends who go there.

Q- Tell me when you buy wine from a producer, let’s say one from Piedmont, what do you expect in the way of price?
A- I think everyone here knows the relative price. We all have friends at wineries so we know the ex-cellar price, more or less. And if there is a middleman, or a broker, there is a commission. We all expect that. But a Barbera, selling for €4-6 comes to us for €6-8. And we sell it for €12-14. Everyone takes a piece but no one takes too big of a bite.

Q- What are you drinking, enjoying, pushing these days?
A- I love the Sylvaner from Alto-Adige. And the crisp Pigato from Liguria. I found a Gamay from Umbria that I currently love, and the Lacrima di Morro d'Alba right now is drinking bellissimo. We have this sexy Aglianico rose and a sparkling wine from Sardegna, dry Moscato, really a nice aperitivo. Red wine, right now we are featuring three Montepulciano d’ Abruzzos from people who have had a hard time since the earthquake. We are marking up a little more and donating 50% of the selling price to the rescue and rebuilding efforts. And of course we have a nice Barbera d’Asti and a Rosso di Montalcino.

Q- How is Brunello now?
A- We are still looking at the 2003 stocks and worrying we will miss out on the 2004. The 2005 we don’t think are as nice. So maybe the Chinese and the Indian markets will get all the 2004?

Q- Well, I don’t know. You know the Italians. They do pretty well in a crisis when they know they are in one.
A- Yes, but this crisis will need more than the superpowers of Dr. Zaia.

Q- I hear more from my friends here that getting a sommelier certification doesn’t get you the dream job? How about your life, how goes that?
A- I think people want too much to be important and famous without thinking about if their life will have meaning or not. I don’t care too much about any further letters after my name. You know, it Italy it is a mania. Everyone is a Dottore.

Q- One last question, Andrea. Do you have any special plans for summer?
A- If I can I want to go to the southern part of Elba and lie on the beach and drink Vermentino and eat fresh seafood. That is my thought for a great vacation this year. And you?

Q- I don’t know. I was hoping the Italian wine guy would go away so I can use his pool and his car and raid his wine closet, like I did last year. Or I might go hiking in Yosemite.
A- Well you are always welcome in our world.

Q- Thanks, Andrea. We’ll see. And thanks for talking with me about wine and things.
A- Ma prego si figuri.





Thursday, May 21, 2009

Zen and the Art of Montalcino Maintenance

I’m in Austin this week and enjoying the company of people who are really interested in wine, even Italian wine. Business here seems to be revving up and after a day with a producer from Montalcino, the reception has been, well, humbling.

I say this because we are just beginning to get into the 2004 Brunellos after what has seemed to be one of the longest years of selling a vintage. The vintage has been the 2003, which got hit by the perfect storm of a lesser than great vintage, the “little problem” in Montalcino and the October 2008 world financial meltdown.

So the warehouses and shops and restaurants have an ample supply left of the 2003 Brunello. Pity, because today as we tasted the 2004 from Caparzo, I really felt sorry that a great vintage like the 2004 is suffering only because of the circumstances we have all found ourselves in.

What to do? Is the '03 Altesino Montosoli so terrible? Of course it isn’t, after all it is the sibling rival to Caparzo and Guido Orzalesi would tell anyone that the wine is sound and bonafide. By the times aren’t yet receptive. Or the ship has already sailed for the 2003. So, once again, what to do?

I would (and do) advise to simply take the hit and close them out. Now. Lesser wines are taking the hit. Dolcettos and Barberas are streaming through the wine bars having been discounted to ridiculously attractive levels, ones that even I would bite on. And I need no more wine in my closet.

In the case of the 2003 Brunellos if only to give the 2004 their time under the spotlight, even if it is only the life cycle of a drosophila.

Which leads me right into this question: Why is it the market seems to get so interested in Italian wine after it has been discounted to cost or below?

Really, three times in this month I have had wine buyers, somms and restaurant managers wax the glories of a particular wine or two. After the third one mentioned it, I started to wonder how wines like these got their legs so deep in the community. We’re talking Dolcetto and Barbera and from producers that are well known, Einaudi and Vietti. And let’s throw in the Fontodi Chianti Classico Riserva, too. I heard that one lately too, even though it probably is a residual memory serving only to try and diminish any of the legitimate attempts to sell Italian wine for what it is worth. More on this to come.

The Dolcetto. I saw it on a list Out West and thought, what the heck, seems like a good wine that someone bought and didn’t know what they had. It was lively. And then again, I saw it, in another fancy place. Ok, good, the wine buyers have sussed out a sleeper, and we all benefit from their acuity. Hoorah for us!

The Barbera. I started hearing about this little beauty from SB (somm-buddy) who comments on this site. I knew the place, went up to the estate in Castiglione Falletto back when the crust of the earth was cooling. I got it then, just stood up a bottle of their ’81 Nebbiolo to let the dust settle. Had first communion with Alfredo, OK? I get it.

And then the dirty little secret comes out. The wines were “discounted”. Closed out. Disontinued. Disco’d. Why? Upon a little digging I hear that Remy Amerique, the importer for Vietti, is sandbagging their wine division. So these folks are possible soon without a home. No future? Time to disco? Sure seems like it.

And Einaudi, are they without an importer? They still show up on the Empson site, so it doesn’t look like that is their fate. Overzealous buyer at the distrib? Perhaps, but I’m not sure. Maybe my Empson peeps reading might share some insight. The wine is real. Good. So, what happened?

How to get excited about Italian wine when it is not on close-out?

Look, for a generation now some of us have been carrying this donkey up the hill. The Italians always undervalued their wine, almost apologizing for it because of the price. A Chianti Classico Riserva selling for $7 when a 3rd growth was going for $12. And the Italian was contrite, ashamed, sorry. So the wine got discounted down to $3 and all of a sudden lots of buzz from a restaurant here, a wine shop there. It was rampant in the 1980’s with Rosso di Montalcino, the “throw away” wine. The distribs had to buy the Rosso to get the Brunello and when it didn’t sell they’d schlep a bottle to Don Cazzu and make him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Great stuff, from Costanti to Il Poggione to San Restituta. I am not kidding. How many times I sat there with my bag of wine while Don Cazzu tells me what a great deal he got for the ‘74 RdM for only $2 a bottle. And he was right! But it perpetuated the image of Italian wine value. A Rosso di Montalcino was only worth $2-3 a bottle because it wasn’t bought right in the first place and it surely was never sold right. And so the true value of the wine never made it into the hearts and minds of the wine buyers.

And now we stand here, once again, at the corner of Downturn and Summertime with Dolcetto and Barbera and 2003 Brunello and when will we ever get to the place where we can really rev it up on the Montalcino autostrada of life? I think our little vehicle needs some work on the engine, the little one that takes us up the hill, yes we can, I think we can, will we ever? Can we?

Deep breath. Close eyes. Relax. Maintenance light is flashing. Must consult the manual. Ad Occhi Chiusi.





Sunday, May 17, 2009

Capote, Mondavi and Vaynerchuk

The idea of the brand, in the wine business, in American culture, has become so pervasive that now we are all being exhorted to build our own personal brands. Fame, fortune and fun have become the mantra for the American Dream. But there is also a dark side to this. Two of these three people (or brands) have become modern day morality tales for what happens when the brand and the person, from which the brand has been created, often don’t go the way it was intended. The third person is approaching critical mass and will have to hash it out. I’m hoping he will succeed.

Truman Capote was a young literary genius whose emotional maturity never quite caught up with his talent. His writing was fierce, fearless and so very sharp for the times he found himself in. A child born from a child, his life raced furiously in the fast lane until he was 59. And then, it was finished. Much has been written about his life, bio-pics have been made, numerous books and articles about his life, his writing, his escapades, his demons. But when he was alive, Truman Capote became a big star. A bestselling brand. Along the time his star was traversing across the winter skies, television and heightened attention to the new media brought many people into contact with him. I still remember seeing this funny little short, squatty man on the TV in my parents’ home when they were watching Mike Douglas or Jack Parr or Johnny Carson. He seemed a lot like some of the people in my home town (Palm Springs) so it wasn’t too out of context to see it on TV. But the number of times he kept showing up registered in my brain. I once saw a copy of “In Cold Blood” on the table in the living room and picked it up. I was probably 12 at the time. I was more interested in tennis or getting out of my parents home, going outside and riding my bike. But Capote was big. So big. What people thought of him, be it the high-society types or the artistic ones, they shaped the Capote from there on. He never had a chance. Partying and drinking and smoking and talking and twittering about. What great works of literature were stolen by taking his time? It was an era when a writer as a media star was something new, and he was so damned talented. But he was diverted. And before long, the brand “Capote” overtook the man.

Robert Mondavi was a visionary, a leader, driven to pursue a dream that shaped Napa Valley and beyond. Because of his relentless stubbornness any of us who work in the wine business today are in a better place, thanks to Mondavi. He was Moses and he led us out of the wilderness. I remember the early days in the 1970’s, when what he was talking about was so rare. Single varietal wines made in a fashion, at a level of quality that there was no market for. Yet. But he persevered, and everyone around him did too. And Mondavi became a monster brand.

I sold the wines in the 1980’s and 1990’s, at a time when the Mondavi brand was growing faster than most of us could keep up with. I remember talking to a friend of mine who was a regional manager, right after the winery went public. He was feeling good about the money the stock represented, but we also talked about what it was going to do to the family, and to the man himself.

In those days, that kind of talk was blasphemy. But the brand was careening so far beyond the bounds of control that now, what is left? It seems an American tragedy to me that someone who so defined fine wine for America and was so successful at it, lost the battle to his “brand”. Some might not agree with me on this, but I see the Mondavi battle of the man against the brand, in the latter years, as an epic battle of success vs. the soul. And what did the victorious one win?

Gary Vaynerchuk. He’s on top of the world. Thousands visit his sites daily. His number of followers on the new social platforms like Twitter have grown six-fold in two months. He’s on CNN, his American Express miles must be in the stratosphere from all the travel. He has a ten book, seven figure deal with a major publisher. And he still has time to personally return an e-mail. How does he do it?

Like he said, without the chops, he wouldn’t have gotten to where he was. And when it comes to wine, he does have passion. Youthful, unbridled and fearless. And I’m not really all that worried about it for him. But there they are, perched on the fringes, waiting to swallow him up whole, the brand-cannibals.

I hope Gary V doesn’t ever end up like Capote or Mondavi. I hope he makes enough money to buy the New York Jets. Right now that’d be about $900 million he’d need to cough up. And to raise that kind of dough, he’s gonna have to do a lot more than sell wine out of a store. And he probably will.

The wine world might lose him. I’m sure he doesn’t want that to happen. You see it in a person when they are called to do things beyond their initial plan. And he is being called. But he’s in this game early and he’s young; he’s got 20-30 years for the game to play out. And what he has to say is damn important – he sees it coming and sees it clearly.

So I just hope he has a strong enough vision where it won’t be covered over by the brand of “Vaynerchuk”, because that would be a tragedy of the American dream. It’s not like others before him haven’t been scooped up in the momentum of their brand.

25 years ago Robert Parker’s star was ascending. And while he still hangs in the heavens, he never let his brand get the best of him. He has endured and he is tremendously influential to this day. Everything has a cycle and someday his cycle will come full circle. Is Gary V’s cycle faster? Shorter? More timely for now? Is he really, as Gaiter and Brecher of the WSJ describe him as the “wine geek of the moment”? If his brand grows beyond wine, as it is doing, perhaps they are correct. But he made his mark with wine. He seems to love it. Will the power of his brand force him away from what he loves?



"The true harvest of my life is intangible - a little star dust caught, a portion of the rainbow I have clutched” - Henry David Thoreau






photo of Capote by Tom Palumbo

Friday, May 15, 2009

Some Pound the Pavement ~ Some Twitter it Away

I had left a call and an e-mail for my friend. It had been 4 months since he started his import-distribution business in NY and I was wondering how it was going.

Since he landed on these shores, he's had the luck to have two things happen to him:

1) He moved to New York in August of 2001.
2) He left his job to start a business in November of 2008.

Timing isn’t everything. There’s also location. Thankfully he was located in an area where wine and Italian wine has a chance for survival.

He doesn’t have a blog in which to schlep his wines or his philosophy. He hasn’t sent out samples to wine writers and bloggers. He didn’t go to Vinitaly (or the alternatives) and he isn’t planning on going to VitignoItalia or Terroir Vino. He doesn’t have air-miles or instant-upgrades in which he can rely on to get him over to Italy on a regular basis. He doesn’t have a patron or a mate who is making tons of money. And it’s not that he isn’t a sociable guy. He has many friends. It’s just that he has to make it work. He cannot fail. He doesn’t have a fall-back plan. He must succeed. I’m betting he will.

This week, he called to tell me that:

1) He is paying all his suppliers on time
2) He is ordering another container
3) He has just hired another salesman

That is great news in a time when people have to fight for every bottle, when some folks have so lost their way that they think they just have to show up in their orange clogs and Ray Bans and party on. Well, let me tell you (one more time) this ain’t no party.

So another testimonial for hard work, focus and a fellow who is making his world safe for Italian wine. Considering the first time I met him in America we spent the afternoon walking around the destroyed site of the World Trade Center, still burning in October of 2001, and he and I were looking at each other wondering where all this was going to lead us.

Now he is leading his Italian wineries into a new world where the age-old principles still mean something. No amount of twittering on the tweetdeck will make up for pounding it on the pavement.





Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Remembering Abruzzo

There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think of Abruzzo from my first visit there in the early 1980’s, when they adopted me as one of their native sons, to the years of friendship and collegiality among the many winemakers there.

The Gran Sasso, the Great Spirit Mountain that looks over the area, is as much a product of the trembling earth of the millions of the year, as the people now trying to rebuild their lives.

The land oozes soul; the grapes burst their energy forth for lively wines. When one hears about all the tankers of Montepulciano that move north at night to vivify weaker wines in the north, this is an unsung hero of a region.

My friends at Illuminati, not trampled by the crashing bricks or rumbling dirt, but none the less affected by their neighbor’s cries of pain. Over the years their wines have changed, like their labels, but always for the better. Today they are a success story for Abruzzo. Some of their neighboring wineries near Aquila are searching for their way through back to the future.

Some day they will open bottles of sparkling wine to celebrate a gathering, a success, a landmark.

For now, we remember those whom we have given up to the Greater Power.


How bittersweet it is to be so blessed to live in Italy and then have to die and say goodbye to all of that beauty.





Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Firch Pilin’, Recyclin’ & Twitterin’

There’s an old East Texas term called "firch-piling" that I learned about from an Oregon magazine many moons ago. The magazine, called RAIN in the late 1970’s, was about A.T. (appropriate technology) and it was a simple black and white monthly issue. Anyway, I loved that ‘ol rag and read it like it was the New Testament when I first got here to Texas. Ancil Nance took many of the cover shots and I still regret letting them go. They were prescient. But then, many years ago a lot of people were talking about a lot of things and not many of us were listening. Now, we’ve got hell to pay. But I’m getting off the subject. One of the stories was about the East Texas practice of not letting anything usable get thrown away. People would go around the curbs and corners when things were laid out for the bulky trash pickup (still happens here in Dallas to this day) and drive by in their van or pick-up and collect anything that they thought they could use. My living room is made up of used furniture, some vintage and some valuable. A most treasured piece is my two-piece Haywood-Wakefield sofa. It was being thrown away. I firched-piled it and then took it home and refinished it. Now it’s worth something. And again I’m getting off the subject. So tonight I was cruising around the cyber-neighborhood and firched a couple of sites that are worth bringing home and telling everyone about. How to Pronounce Italian Wine is one of those sites I will send to a million people. Anyone who needs to understand a little more about a grape and how to say it, in Italian, should run, not walk, to this site. Pina runs this blog and also can be found at @Vino_Italiano in Twitterland, where I found her amazing and animated site while rummaging around. Detroit Drinks and its author, Putnam Weekly, is a must for your Google Reader. I remember this guy when we first started e-mailing in the mid 1990’s. He was and still is passionate about wine , Italian and otherwise, and now he blogs and tweets (@putnam100)and all that growed-up stuff. Nice re-union from the firch pile. Sunday we went out into the “country” for Mother’s day. At the farm we saw acres and acres of dandelions and I thought about my grandmas. They would love this post, from another site I firched from another Twitterer, @everything_wine . The tweet directed me to a new blog, VINTROSPECTIVE –> An Italian Wine Blog, by Joel Mack, also found here @vintrospective on the Twitterpile. The post that got my firchpile fired up was one about dandelions. Seeing as we have a mountain of them, I can have my firch and eat it too, thanks to Signore Mack. Lorenzo Gabba can be found @_enzo on the tweetball field or on Lorenzo’s Blog. I'm thinking right now wine-folks like Roberto Paris, Andrea Fassone and Giulio Galli would like this post, Italian Region Launches Grape and Football Contest. I’ll send them this link via Facebook, as Roberto is in Thailand, Giulio is in San Antonio, Texas and Andrea is in Bed-Stuy. And that’s the way lot of ex-pats stay in touch in this busy and bustling world. That’s it. Bonna notte y’all.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Vonnegut, St. Margherita and Parker

The wine business is on the move. There has been a fundamental shift. Depending on who one talks to, it is either so small as to be barely noticeable, or so huge that the walls have come tumbling down and we are in shock and no longer recognize the landscape we have found ourselves in.

Kurt Vonnegut was familiar with cataclysm and change. And along the way he became a major brand, Kurt Vonnegut. For impressionable youth who had 95 cents for a paperback, Vonnegut challenged our pre-existing ideas about where we were going. And for many of us, he was a huge wave that took us on the long ride out of the doldrums of the 1950’s. He became huge, enormously popular and recognizable to millions. An icon. But somewhere along the line I believe he stayed true to his mission, his “brand”. His books are still enormously popular, though he has long since departed these shores. And while he was attaining, fame, wealth and freedom, he didn’t let it fundamentally change what his message was or who he was. Stardom didn’t alter his course. So it goes.

Santa Margherita, known the world over for light, fruity, Pinot Grigio. Reviled by connoisseurs, envied by the competition and made the butt or the target of so many salespeople and wine journalists who have scoped it in their sights for their own aggrandizement. And all along the way, 30 years and counting, SMPG just keeps knocking them out of the ring. It is a brand and it hasn’t tried to be anything other than what it is: light, fruity, white wine for people who are looking for that kind of thing. Say what you want about it, and I’m sure the navel gazers of the wine world are rolling their eyes right about now. If they read these words. Which they don’t. So we’re “safe.” Santa Margherita isn’t looking to tempt the hairy armpit crowd. All along this brand has really only been successful at this: making a lot of money selling Pinot Grigio for a high price. And making a lot of people happy. Always pretty much the same message, lightly dry and fruity. End of story. But what a success story the “brand” of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio has been. So it goes.

And now we have Robert M. Parker. The wine critic people love to hate. Or fear. Or copy. Or target. And what has his transgression been? Depending on who you ask and what period of time, he has been accused of liking overly alcoholic wines, overly fruity wines, Bordeaux and not Burgundy, Barolo but not Chianti, oak, malolactic acid, micro-oxygenation, New world wines and Old World wines in New World clothes. People have criticized him for his palate, even though, the whole time, what has he been doing? He has been tasting wine and saying what it is he likes. And in return, many, many winemakers have either agreed with him or wanted their wines to be liked by him, because he was a force of nature and because HE SOLD WINE. Was that his intent? Or did he have a sinister plan to inexorably change the way wine was made?

Parker is the “brand”. Not Squires, not Galloni, not Rovani. Parker. And yes, now he can extend his influence, enlarge his scope by opening up his world to other voices, other palates. Line extensions. But like Santa Margherita, people flock to Parker for Parker, or are threatened by Parker because of Parker. And what has he done all this time? He has stayed true to his vision of what he appreciates in a wine, pure and simple. You don’t have to agree with him. But the man, the brand, became the influencer he has because he built his castle brick by brick. So it goes.

The challenge for a brand will be for it to stay relevant as the future crashes all around us. Parker the man is set for life. Parker the brand is being challenged, by the Vaynerchucks and the bloggers and the many new young wine drinkers whom he might not ever be able to catch up with in communicating in the ways they have set. And while I’m in no way advising him (or anyone) to blog or to set up a Twitter or Facebook account, the ways in which the future is arriving will make his newsletter (and this blog) seem quaint and dated and over. Unless he (and we) adapt.

Or wait for fins, and chrome and broad white walls to come back in vogue.


Don’t hold your breath.



Thursday, May 07, 2009

Condimentia

I went to a Modern Mexican restaurant the other day. Looking at the wine list, eight wines, and two of them were Cal-Itals, an Arneis and a Tocai Friulano from St. Ynez Valley. Mind you, the Italians cannot call their version Tocai Friulano; EC ruling. They must call if Friulano Bianco. But Californians can. Doesn’t make sense. Even then, why not use the real thing?

Flash back 12 hours. Am conferencing about a Euro-based Italian chain that has franchised in the area. The corporate wine list is all Italian, but the franchisee can do whatever they want to do. So on the list goes Pinot Noir from California, four kinds of Malbec from Argentina and Silver Oak Cabernet. In an area where chain restaurants dominate. And this is going to differentiate them from their competition? So, why not use the real thing?

Wine has been reduced, once again, to condiment, like ketchup and mustard. Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense. Mercury must be in retrograde.


Sunday, May 03, 2009

Nature and the Hand of Man

“The vine and humankind have walked the same path together for thousands of years.” This quote, remembered from some ancient text, sets our mutual destinies on course. Whatever we think is natural has been in a state of constant change. The vines, the wines and the humans. Some of the changes work, some of them are imperfect, and so it goes. It amuses me when I hear the natural camp express a stringent, unbending philosophy of what they think wine should be. Equally bemusing are those who think wine is all the hand of man. Somewhere in the middle there is an equilibrium, but I won’t be the one to bring both sides to the table. It is not my concern. What interests me is how these two elements, nature and the hand, have come all these years on the wine trail.

After the meetings and the tastings I itch to get out into the fresh air and walk in the vineyards. Do I care about the trellising or the distance between the vines? Not one whit. Is the soil important? For the vines growing in it, yes, but schist, calcaire or gumbo, what can I do about it? Nothing. That is for those who have committed their lives to the soil below them. In my garden, yes, there I have my concerns. Where to plant my tomatoes, basil and squash. The Hoja Santa, which is taking over everything as if it were meant to. And the peppers and the arugula, growing wherever I stick them. The oregano, which has decided it would rather live in the crack between the fence and the concrete decking. And the rosemary, which is thriving in the pot, most likely root-bound, and delirious. That is my nature and the world in which my bees and squirrels and sparrow hawks live.

In Italy, the hand of man (and woman) has many facets. The nobleman, whose family has owned the property for countless generations, his hand is now finely manicured and steady in which to pour his precious liquid. For his and the legacy of his family, the land is everything, for it has given them so much. Pride, prestige, wealth, standing, position and time to read the ancient and modern philosophers. Wine is part of his Cosmologia Generalis. Marcus Aurelius, in his Meditations, says, " He who does not know what the world is does not know where he is, and he who does not know for what purpose the world exists, does not know who he is, nor what the world is.”

Nothing can happen to any man which is not a human accident, nor to an ox which is not according to the nature of an ox, nor to a vine which is not according to the nature of a vine, nor to a stone which is not proper to a stone. If then there happens to each thing both what is usual and natural, why shouldst thou complain ? For the common nature brings nothing which may not be borne by thee. -Marcus Aurelius

The hand of the young son of the winemaker, hands stained with grape and soil, those are his jewels and his gold. Years ago, in Montalcino, at the table of a humble family of vine growers, we had lunch from everything that grew or was raised on the farm. These were farmers, uncomplicated in the way they saw life. They woke up early and worked until lunch. They ate and took a short nap. Then they returned to their work until dinner. And afterwards, maybe a little diversion. But the life was set for them.

Years later I ran into them in Northern Italy. The farmer had a light green suit on. He seemed out of balance in it. His wife, her hands still stained by the pomace of the grapes, were laden with all manner of gold and ornamentation. Their land was valuable and the wine commanded a high price. Their station in life, economically, was changing. And they were, too. Were they moving away from their nature with their suits and their jewelry? And if they were, who could warn them of the dangers they would face with their newfound affluence?

Last month, in the hills of Soave, we were taking one last visit and taste before heading back to America to work. In the late afternoon as we looked out over the vineyards, our hostess pointed to a small figure moving briskly down below. “She has worked in these vineyards all her life. She wakes up early and heads out to the fields and returns at the end of the day, almost every day. And she is 95 years old now.”

I saw not only a 95 year old walking briskly up that steep hill. I saw the spirit of one who had learned long ago what her nature was. And like the birds and the bees in my backyard following their nature, so was this incredible old woman.

To her who gives and takes back all, to nature, the man who is instructed and modest says, Give what thou wilt; take back what thou wilt. And he says this not proudly, but obediently and well pleased with her. - Marcus Aurelius






Friday, May 01, 2009

"No one knows the list better than me"

I had to laugh, to keep from crying. The local restaurant critic revisited an old landmark restaurant that had been, in its day, the hallmark of dining and wine service. Sadly the place seems to be in its “old age” phase of its life. Reviewer Leslie Brenner in the Dallas Morning News wrote a tragically uproarious piece about the wine service. You should read the whole review, to get a feel for Ms. Brenner’s style. Folks have also chimed in on the Eats blog here (it has gotten pretty hairy). Her comments about the wine service, after the break:

We asked for the sommelier, told him what we had ordered and inquired about a Bordeaux: a Sociando Mallet 1997, for $45. I love Sociando Mallet but didn't know how '97 was. He didn't answer, just flipped a few pages back and pointed to a Spanish wine I'd never heard of, priced at $100.

"What region is it from?" I asked.

"Spain," he said.

"OK, but what region in Spain?"

"Spain."

"There are many regions in Spain," I reminded him. "Is it from Ribera? Rioja?"

"It's from Spain," he said.

"OK," I said. "We'd like to stay in France." I flipped back to the Sociando Mallet, asking him again about it.

"Médoc doesn't go with what you're having," he said. That was quite funny, as one of us had ordered a rib-eye steak – known in the Médoc as entrecôte, and paired famously with, you know, Médoc.

I gave up, though, and tried getting his opinion about a Guigal Châteauneuf-du-Pape. He didn't think they had it. So I asked him about a Guigal Hermitage that was listed under Burgundy. What year is it? I wondered.

"That's not a very good Burgundy," he said.

"It's not a Burgundy," I pointed out. "It's listed under Burgundy, but it's not a Burgundy; it's a northern Rhône."
He looked at me as if I were insane.

"Is there someone here who knows the wine list?" I asked him.

He laughed. "No one knows the list better than me," he said.

We settled on a 1995 Château Gloria Bordeaux, and before long, the food started coming.


Who's on First?

Many years ago, I called on a man by the name of Victor Wdowiak. At the time he was a wine buyer for a large retail chain, but he often took pity on this “young Turk” as he liked to call me. He knew wine well. He was very intimidating. But he was the real deal. And it was he who set up the original wine service at the restaurant that is now in the autumn of its years. Mr. Victor passed away a while back and it is probably better, for if he read this interchange he would most likely pass out and die from shame, exhaustion and sheer frustration that all his years of hard work, his legacy, has now been so perverted and misinterpreted.

Restaurants are struggling so much without having to endure these self inflicted wounds, some of them mortal. My experiences this week have shown me that we have a lot of work to do. Even with a lifetime of work, the legacy might not be so deeply etched, in the fields we have toiled all these years.



P.S. I promise to be more uplifting on the next post. It's not all doom and gloom. But it ain't exactly a walk in the park, either. But we shall overcome. Yes we can!



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