THE 2015 VINTAGE IN BURGUNDY REVISITED

This is partly a reminder.   We and others have gone on at length about 2015, particularly with respect to the flattering reds, one of the juiciest and most engaging vintages we can recall.  For Burgundy veterans, think back to the expressive, fleshy 2009s, but lighter on their feet like the 2002s, with a nice verve to the acidity that calls 2005 to mind.  It will surely be considered in the pantheon of great vintages.

We have also (and often) discussed the difficulty in finding value in Burgundy a number of times over the years.  High demand, small production, not to mention the ups and downs of marginal viticulture in general, have an upward effect on the price tag.  Even at the lower end, prices aren’t necessarily all that low.  It’s not impossible to find a deal.  It’s just really hard.  The best results usually come in concert with the blessing of Mother Nature because Pinot is a delicate grape that needs all the help it can get, a little extra sun raising the level of all vineyards great and small.

Untimely rain, thin skins, under-ripeness, too much heat, not enough heat, there are many things that can cause Pinot to underperform.  But the reason that some appellations consistently sell for much higher prices than others is history, plain and simple.  Chambertin has hefty price tags because it consistently performs at a high level.  The places that don’t carry big tickets do not by virtue of the fact that they don’t perform at the highest level consistently.  Maybe that lack of consistent success is due to exposure, or perhaps the fact that, year-in and year-out ripeness levels might not be as high as other locations.  But it is because they are on the more marginal side of ‘marginal viticulture’ that they sell for less.

However, when the sun shines, those areas perform at their very best.  But, because of history, the vignerons can’t charge substantially more money when they are successful because of the ‘hierarchy’.  When that happens, it is the consistent recipe for a deal, and that’s how to play Burgundy in 2015 unless you own oil wells or invented an app.  Places like Marsannay, Savigny-Les-Beaune, and Mercurey had sensational seasons in 2015 and we have spent a good amount of time going through the less famous locales to find the honest gems.  That we did, though we had to, as they say, ‘kiss a lot of frogs’ and work through some disappointments to get it done.  Hey, that’s Burgundy.

The hardest part isn’t the work, though.  The hardest part is bucking the system.  When we first referred to the ‘hierarchy’ in that last paragraph.  That is a very specific phenomenon in our view.  While there is an ‘official’ classification to Burgundy that determines Grand Crus and Premier Crus from ‘village level’ vineyards, there is also an unspoken but immutable pecking order to the vineyards as reported by the press.  It’s hard to explain even to Burgundy ‘hardcores’, many of whom accept the hierarchy as law.  But if you read enough stuff, you realize that a most of the ‘conclusions’ are forgone and/or political.

By ‘foregone’, we mean that there is a certain ‘weight’ assigned to certain climats and producers.  The most brilliant Maranges ever made has an upper limit to its scoring potential because it’s Maranges.  Most of the time it will dwell in the upper 80s score-wise, perhaps creep into the low 90s on occasion, almost always in cases where that domaine doesn’t have significant upper cuvees in their lineup.  But that’s it.  If it is tasted in the same cellar next to a wine from a better appellation, the odds of it besting that wine isn’t ‘zero’.  It’s just nearly zero.

Sure there are always exceptions, just not many of them.  When a reviewer tastes at a Burgundy domaine, he is presented the wines in the ‘order of importance’ of the bottlings…Bourgognes et. al, villages wines, Premier Crus and Grand Crus. Reviewers will taste them relative to their pecking order, and the reviews stick to that script a preponderance of the time.  Is that the most logical result?  Probably, but our point is that it almost never varies to the contrary.

On top of that, the 100-point scale that everybody uses these days has an upper limit…100.   A wine cannot score greater than 100, so everything is scaled back from whatever the top effort is.  If the best wine in the cellar, using the numbers analogy, scores a 94, the next best has to be less.  By the time you get 2-3 wines down the ladder, you are in a place where most consumers are lukewarm about most things, particularly something that has a $50-60 price tag.  Those potentially delicious ‘little wines,’ in these hierarchy lineups, have a remote chance of getting a review that will motivate buyers even though the quality warrants it.

We refer to this as the ‘theory of relativity’, as in reviewers tend not to always be able to figure out where one group of wines fits in to the broader array of all wines.  The best and most extreme illustration is Romaine Conti.  Always presented ‘in order’ (and remember nothing can be scored above 100), by the time you get ‘down’ to the Echezeaux, you are at 91-92 point scores, the same as a modestly-priced Rioja or Argentine Malbec.  Silly.  Take that Echezeaux and put it in a different lineup, and it crushes.  So what is the takeaway from this small and very slanted sampling?  Nothing clear.

Also, from one year to the next, reviewers are either clueless or afraid.  Let’s take the 2013 vintage in Burgundy versus the 2015.  While the vintages were substantially different qualitatively, the majority of the scores on the individual wines were within a couple of points between the vintages, hardly a reasonable representation of the difference between those two vintages.  Also, we don’t recall anyone coming out on the 2013s and saying that these wines weren’t worth the prices and don’t buy them.  With 2012 still on shelves, and the very good 2014s and flashy 2015s coming down the road, did anyone say not to spend your hard-earned dollars on the 2013s.

That would have been honest advice from these reviewers who represent themselves as working for you, the consumer.  But we don’t remember seeing anything of the sort in print.  We can point to Robert Parker’s brutal honesty with respect to the 1983 red Burgundies a long time ago.  He said the reds were overly tannic and had issues with rot.   Was he right?  Doesn’t matter, he was simply giving his honest opinion to the folks that pay him to give them his opinion.  The Burgundians didn’t like it very much and, if memory serves, there weren’t many subsequent reviews on Burgundy from Parker.

Are we saying reviewers go easy on the Burgundy producers so they get to come back (and you can infer the same for a lot of top addresses in other areas as well)?  Are we suggesting that Burgundy gets treated with ‘kid gloves’ by the press for fear of reprisal?    You can read the pages and pages of predictable reviews and judge for yourself.  The same wines finish at the top, the general rankings of the individual wines relative to each other within a portfolio are virtually unvaried year-to-year.  Sure there will be the occasional ‘up and comer’, but the inter-relationship between producers and vineyards is virtually unchanged from house to house and year to year.

Maybe we are jealous.  Would we like to get paid to hang out in Burgundy and tell people to buy Dujac and Roumier? Heck yeah! But we have a hard time wondering why anyone would do that.  That leaves us, the poor schmuck merchants who are trying give consumers some viable, reasonably priced and enjoyable options thanks to the quirk of fate of an exceptional vintage in a prestige (and typically expensive, sometimes laughably so) region, in a tough place.

There are a lot of delicious wines in Burgundy that won’t break the bank.  But the ‘system’ does not lend itself to promoting them in a meaningful way.   Human nature being what it is, we certainly can’t expect people to easily shell out say $50-60 for something ( say a village Vosne Romanee) that the ‘system’ allowed no more than 90-91 points within the ‘hierarchy’.   Better to spend it on an Oregon Pinot that got a ‘94’, though that score came in a completely different category and mix.

We’re going to continue to do our best because it’s the right thing to do.  We love finding that delicious Bourgogne or Marsannay for a song.    They are out there, particularly in vintages like 2015.  Just don’t expect there to be lofty reviews because of the way Burgundy is handled by the media. The hierarchy of vineyard and producer, the top-heavy score bias, and the ‘old boy’ review network, make us feel like salmon swimming against the very predictable current in the sense of creating sales.  You  will get sweeping (though calculated) comments regarding a vintage overall.  But when you actually dig into the individual reviews, the information is predictable and not particularly enlightening.

Still, we have found things that we are truly exciting from this vintage because they are compelling, engaging bottles of Pinot Noir to drink (or hold) from the place where Pinot was born.  That is ultimately the point.  Given all of the things we have mentioned, you can clearly understand that there are a lot easier things for us to sell than Burgundy.   But finding a $20-30 Monthelie that you can pull out in a few years that puts a smile on your face is a labor of love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAMPAGNE, PART ONE: THE ROAD TO ZERO

As we have mentioned in a couple of other pieces, the holidays are considered Champagne season.  We love Champagne any time, but it difficult to get a lot of people’s attention for most of the year.  Usually at this time of year, because of the Q4 tradition, we have been through a number of serious tastings focused on Champagne.  Having completed that gauntlet, it seemed time to offer a few thoughts on what’s out there and the happenings in the wonderful world of Champagne.  For the most part all is well.  The big brands are the same as ever, there are more grower Champagnes appearing in this market all the time, and the selection is historically unparalleled.

In simple English, if you want a great bottle of Champagne, you can find one at virtually any price you are willing to pay over $30.  Occasionally less.  Of course, the issue is what you are looking for.  If you are looking for classic, likeable fizz that anyone would enjoy, most of the bigger brands will deliver that.  They are formulated with a higher dosage (i.e. a little more sugar) to appeal to a broader range of palates.  Consistency works for the big houses and delivering a fruit driven wine has never proven to be bad business in the glass.  There’s a saying in the industry that “People talk ‘dry’, but they drink ‘sweet’. That is true the majority of the time…provided that no one actually says the word ‘sweet’.

We have been leaning towards individual grower Champagnes for a long time.  Our feeling is that the more specific terroirs of these smaller estates adds another dimension to the wine’s profile, and the lower (but not necessarily low) dosage tends to augment the visibility of the terroir elements.  These grower cuvees are made a little dryer stylistically to approach a more sophisticated audience.  Plus, because they are not necessarily aiming for the ‘broad market’, the individual growers can take a more personal approach to their wines which also, over the vast majority, leans a bit more to the dry side.

Any time we talk about ‘sweet’ and ‘dry’, there are invariably some misunderstandings about meaning.  Before we go on, we should make the point that there are definitely guidelines for the descriptors.  In the real world, sweetness is a perception.  What people say, how they describe things, are subjective, but not necessarily accurate.  One man’s sweet could be too dry for someone else.  So our references here are based on scientific fact.  A Champagne can be called ‘brut’ up to about 1.2% per cent residual sugar. A Champagne that is 0.9% residual sugar is drier, period.  As you can probably surmise, there is a significant difference in the profiles of something that has zero residual sugar and sitting at 1.2%.

One’s individual appreciation of a particular style or dosage is strictly personal.  In other words, it is not up to us to tell you what to like, merely give you data to help you determine what you might like.   Because of Champagne’s higher acidity, a higher level of sweetness will, in plain talk, not taste as sweet as it would in a lower-acid still wine.  Unlike a lot of people who think anything with any sweetness at all is for grandma, some wines need a bit of sweetness to offset certain levels of acidity.  It is particularly true with varietals that have higher natural acidities like Chenin Blanc and Riesling.  We see Champagne as falling into the same kind of requirement.  Don’t get us wrong, we don’t mind a little sweetness, or a complete dryness.  But no matter the profile, the individual wine has to be balanced. Most important, it has to be enjoyable.

That being said, we are seeing a strong trend towards more dryness, maybe a little too much.  A lot of folks we have followed for years seem to be lowering their dosages across the board, or at the very least introducing ‘brut zero’ or ‘no dosages’ options in their line.  Let us first point out that the industry does not ask the people what they want.  They merely decide what is best for all of us and proceed to make it (see also Syrah and Italian varietals in California).  One of our more frequent descriptors regarding a rather substantial number of Champagnes we have tasted this year is ‘angry’.

A somewhat drier entry is an indicator stylistically, but far too many examples cut away mid-palate exposing something soily, stoic and a sometimes little bitter.  The grower says he is ‘expressing the terroir’by keeping the sugars very low.  To that we say ‘yeah, but it isn’t very pleasing to drink.’

We are sure there are self-appointed gurus and twenty-something sommeliers who think the super dry cuvees are the ultimate food wines.  It seems that the brut-zero/orange wine/underripe-red set currently has a disproportionately larger voice among suppliers.  Maybe the next generation of producers like ‘angry’ wine better.   Who are we to question the pontifications of some self-appointed ‘trend setter’ who has moved on from skeletal trocken Riesling to embrace literally ‘bone dry’ Champagnes.

To be honest, we have had a few examples (Ruppert-Leroy, for one) of low dosage bubbly that we liked a lot.  But to pull it off is really, really difficult.  The fruit has to be near perfect, have enough flesh on it to give the impression of richness, and an extra lift at the finish.  Very few that we have tasted, a really small percentage in fact, can deliver that style in an engaging way.  We get it that there are a lot of folks that decry the mawkish nature of some of the most popular French bubblies (like Moet White Star).  But there’s a new wave in Champagne that seems to be taking it too far the other way.

Not to sound like Mary Poppins, but a little bit of sugar does help the ‘medicine’ go down.  It makes it taste good, and ultimately that is the point.

Another trend that seems to be developing throughout the industry (though most folks may not see it for years, if ever) are ‘dirt’ cuvees (they don’t call them that, but the name fits).  We encountered more than a couple instances where some growers were not only bottling from their property, but subdividing parcels and making even more finite cuvees based on soil types, exposures, etc..  While they gave those cuvees individual names, the explanation was, ‘…this one comes from mainly chalky soil, and this other one comes from volcanic soils’.  In other words their base was rooted in some more finite aspect of site specifics.

There were also individual plot bottlings defined by vine-age, and still others that featured a specific varietal.  We love artisan Champagne, but many of the artisans are becoming a bit too artisan, and we have a hard time believing that a producer can (or should) make six, seven, eight different cuvees.  Sure, winemakers, being winemakers, love to tinker with new ideas.  But they sometimes get too involved in their own world.  We’re afraid things will go the way of California and Oregon Pinot Noir where too many individual bottlings from the same house confuse the consumer (and us), and don’t provide nearly as significant a varied profile to people out in the world as they might appear to a winemaker who tastes them repeatedly in a closed environment.

We understand trying to challenge the palate.  But even most Champagne dorks (and we count ourselves among them) would not  find a lot to get viscerally excited about with the slightly different nuances of these varied cuvees (which are noticeable in a side-by-side comparison but certainly less so otherwise), all done in a more austere style, at $60, $80, $100 per bottle.

Growers already have a challenge in that they only have their own dirt to work with, and can’t address problems that crop up in their own winemaking by blending juice from other areas.  We taste growers every year because they can vary quite a bit from year to year based on the base wines and reserves they have available.  There are some houses that we have loved almost every year (Vilmart, Billiot, Agrapart, Pierre Peters).  But most are off-and-on and can ‘sing’ one year and disappoint the next.

The overall quality level has been augmented by some exceptional vintages in the base wines (like 2012).  But the stylistic shift towards drier styles negates some of that because of the demands it puts on the individual cuvee.  If you expect the consumer to appreciate the terroir, the terroir has to perform. The lower the dosage, the more the base wine is exposed.

If we aren’t sounding like cheerleaders, it is due to our concern about the trend we see taking shape. It wouldn’t be our choice.  Somewhere in between those tart, no-dosage Champagnes and the sweetish broad market cuvees would seem to be the happy medium.  ‘Drier’ isn’t ‘better’ by definition as far as Champagne goes.  Still, as far as thrilling options, there are plenty of those.  We’ll get more specific about that next time.

 

THE MAN (/WOMAN) IN THE HIGH CASTLE

To be honest, the relationship between us, the industry, and the wine press has been a varied one over our three (plus) decades.  We started Winex (such as it is) in 1982, roughly about the time The Wine Advocate and Wine Spectator gained substantial enough readership and influence to ‘move the needle’ with respect to sales of a particular wine.  The emerging, expanding wine-drinking population was looking for guidelines to help them select from among the increasing array of wines in the marketplace.  These two publications in particular were in the right place at the right time with formats that were palatable enough to generate substantial followings.  In turn, those ‘followers’ began to have more impact on the marketplace as they reacted to reviews and bought up the lauded wines.

Now that we are about 35 years into this process, and possibly witnessing a change in the landscape, it seemed a reasonable time to assess where we are.  It started simple enough with the reviewers giving their opinions about various wines they tasted, and people heeding that advice.  As a greater number of people started to follow these scribes, the intensity of the reaction elevated.  A big review was like that proverbial magnifying glass focusing the ‘rays’ of demand into a white hot flashpoint that burned up the existing supplies of showcased vinos faster and faster.

The industry had the opportunity to hold their own in the face of this growing phenomenon, but instead largely accepted that it was easier to just paste up reviews than generate their own sales programs.  For most of the time since, buying and selling based on reviews was the only program for most retailers.  Still is.  Exploring most wine web sites, you will find cut-and-paste reviews almost exclusively on most, and virtually no original text.

The introduction of the internet increased the power of the press and made their chosen sites more accessible more quickly.  The whole buying/selling process became much quicker accordingly.  What took a particular wine a few weeks to sell through before could now sometimes go from start to finish in an hour or two thanks to the internet.

The wholesalers/wineries/importers, reacting to getting blindsided by people buying up reviewed wines (and nothing else) did what they always do…overreacted.  Tie-ins (which aren’t technically legal) and abuse of the ‘allocation’ process were chosen as the best defensive tools for purveyors to make sure peole don’t corner too many of the ‘cherries’.  That is loosely where we are today, although it has been a little easier to get some of the high-demand, highly reviewed goods simply because the market is so fiercely competitive thanks to greater variety, higher quality of goods, and a much more widely educated buying public.

As most of you that have followed Winex over the years, we are about as fiercely independent as a merchant can be today.  The wine writers’ hype is a tool for us to use when we like something to get the message to buyers.  But they have never been something to be blindly followed without question.  We have turned down many wines over the years that we could have sold through in a nano-second simply because we don’t think the wines are good enough.  We have had a love/hate relationship with the press for all of these years, which we will explain in a minute.

First let’s give credit where it is due.  The reason that we have a more educated wine-buying population these days can be attributed to a large extent to the wine press, which has explored, explained, and helped develop a broader understanding and appreciation of a number of genres that were not en vogue back in the early days.  People are aware of, and more comfortable with a much wider range of wines than ever before and, because of that, are presented with even more to choose from by virtue of that broader receptiveness.  A lot of this can be credited to the press covering those formerly off-the-beaten-path categories and educating the consumer.  If you write it they will read?

Also the press has revved up the discovery process.  It took years for a brand to develop in the marketplace, even decades.  But a new wine or winery can be an instant icon with some timely press coverage and a couple of big scores.  Yes the ‘waters’ run faster in today’s wine news cycle and things can pass by rather quickly.  But there is plenty to be had if you swim fast enough, and really even if you don’t.

Our point is that, while we sometimes get a little miffed with the wine press, and have pointed out a number of things we see as flaws in the ‘process’, in all fairness they have been a big part of the development of the wine market over the past quarter century.  Now that there are a few more players in the ratings game we’ll see how it shakes out.  More opinions shouldn’t hurt the message, though it could dilute the impact of a particular review.

That being said, we felt the need to mention a couple of things to the writers themselves.  We would ask the banal question ‘who pays your salary?’  Consumers and the trade presumably are using ratings services to help them evaluate choices in the marketplace.  Do they have the same objectives?  Perhaps, perhaps not.  But the ‘why?’ isn’t the issue.  So much stuff hits the market every year at such a high rate, every byte of usable information can help sort it out.   It is the definition of ‘usable’ that we are debating today.

We were reading the Wine Spectator the other day and happened to notice their review of the 2014 Ramonet Montrachet at 98 points.  The piece stated that ten cases were imported.  You can only imagine our relief at knowing that someone had tasted one of the rarest and most collectable white wines in the world, in an outstanding vintage, and deemed it worthy.  We can rest secure in the knowledge that if we had $1100 to drop on a single bottle of Chardonnay (if you could even get it for that) and could find one of the remaining 119 bottles that came into the U.S., it would be OK to pull the trigger.   Is this usable knowledge?

We can say the same thing about a number of other highly reviewed icon wines.  Does it really matter to anyone if Sine Qua Non gets a 98 or 100?  OK maybe to Manfred Krankl, though the guy doesn’t really need the hype to sell wine any more.  It might matter to the few guys that buy wines like that to ‘flip’ so they can seek a higher resale return.  But to most folks, what is the message?  That the reviewer got to taste the wines and you didn’t?  That you should start thinking about getting on the waiting list to be on the waiting list?  Is this usable knowledge for most folks?

We grabbed a few ‘special report’ titles from Wine Advocate to further illustrate our point:

–A Retrospective of Barone Ricasoli’s Vin Santo del Chianti Classico -30 tasting notes

–Sunday Prayers with Trotanoy 18 tasting notes

–Tenuta San Guido – Bolgheri Sassicaia Retrospective 47 tasting notes

–Chateau Montrose 1893 – 2014 62 tasting notes

–Valandraud Complete- 45 tasting notes

–2007 Southern Rhônes – Living Up to the Hype at Age Ten?  192 tasting notes

–Bordeaux: The Pauillac of Margaux – Brane-Cantenac 1971-2013

It didn’t take long to get that list, and we could dig deeper into multiple publications and create the ‘mother of all lists’ regarding this sort of thing, but the point is that the information in many of those articles isn’t necessarily actionable or of any real value to most readers in a conventional context.

Is there an audience for these pieces or is it writer’s self-indulgence?  If you are telling me in detail about wines I have little likelihood of seeing, let alone tasting, how am I enriched?  By sharing in your experience vicariously?  Thanks a bunch.  I would question how many subscribers were actually seeking this kind of information when they signed up.  But since the publication already has the money, readers don’t have a lot of say about they are being served.

There will be arguments that these kinds of tastings augment the tasters’ experience and therefore their ability to assess wines oveerall.  Street cred.  To that we would rebut that such experiences can have just the opposite affect and jade the palate beyond reason and make everything else such people taste seem ordinary.  We know people like that.

A ‘consumer report’ that delivers the message that virtually everything is banal or ordinary, except a few things that you likely can’t buy, doesn’t really help those consumers very much.  Yet this is the direction such publications seem to be leaning over the last few years in particular.  If writers view their role as being the de facto sales department for winery-only, boutique wines or the guy with the 119 bottles of Montrachet, let them pay you, too.

We say to the wine press, come down off your high horse.  Reviewing page after page of wines that most folks will never see, except at a restaurant at three times an already hefty price doesn’t benefit most consumers.  Climb down out of your high castle and be among the little people.  We drink pretty well ourselves and still think a lot of this stuff you writers do is indulgent and over the top.  What’s next?  Jayer Cros Parantoux vertical?  The 1947 Bordeaux 70 years on?  Favorite 5-case production wines? We’re sure it will make for compelling reading, but really what is the point?

Simply, when writers take up space with this kind of stuff, we don’t believe they are serving the best interests of the majority of their clients.  We can say for ourselves that we read much less in these publications than we used to.  Are we jealous?  Would we like to get paid for our detailed notes on the 1985 Romanee Conti lineup?  Sure!  But we can’t imagine who would pay for that, nor do we really need such info from somebody else.  It is more likely, if we adopted that business model, we’d end up on a freeway off-ramp with a cardboard sign that says, “will pontificate for food.”

 

 

 

 

The Aftermath

Obviously, we need to start this by sending wishes and prayers to all of our friends in the wake of the fires in ‘wine country’.  The loss of life is horrific and the extensive damage to property, still being assessed, is clearly catastrophic.  Our heartfelt sorrows go out in particular to those who lost their homes and businesses.

 

There are a lot of folks who will be offering condolences.  The media has, and will, be full of articles about people’s heroics, first responders, and other encouraging tales about the human spirit.  It does seems like there have been way too many disasters this year in particular.   There are a lot of people that will tell you they know how you feel, but most don’t.  Being helpless in the face of an overwhelming tragedy isn’t something most humans have had to experience over the last few decades.

 

Around here, we’ve had a bit of an inkling (more than we cared to) of what NoCal has been going through as three of the ‘characters’ in our own Winex crew were far too close for comfort to the Corona fire a couple of weeks ago and Canyon Fire 2 early this week.  Having to decide what to save, considering the immediate and long-term importance of the item, and to have to make those decisions within a very short period of time and under duress, is scary enough in itself.   Our people were fortunate to be beyond the final perimeter in those cases, but others weren’t.

 

It’s certainly fair to say that some of us down here didn’t realize how bad things were in Napa and Sonoma because we had our own disaster going.  It was amusing to hear the national news people talk about our fires as ‘just outside of L.A.’  We’re an hour south on a good day and substantially more in traffic.  In any case we have been ‘shaken and stirred’ here to the point where we might vaguely be able to sense the situation up there.

 

We actually weren’t sure what to do given the events of the past week.  We know a lot of people in the north, and have friends that did lose houses.  But we also figured that a people are a little tired of hearing about things burning.  We’re supposed to be the ‘fun’ place.  But this particular set of horrific events is right in our own back yard and, both as wine merchants and Californians, we thought we needed to say something.

 

The only point we would make falls in line with that whole ‘the wine business isn’t like any other’ thing.  Given the fact that there are still fires raging up there it is still too soon to assess the damage.  There have been more fatalities, more evacuations and more structures burned.  Obviously, we aren’t trying to make light of anything.  But we are starting to see articles about ‘what happens next’ and ‘rebuilding’.  That caused us to ponder a little about ‘wine’ things.

 

How do you rebuild?  Let’s say you are a winery.   There’s no ‘good’ timing for a fire but right now is harvest.  There are still some ‘ready’ grapes on the vine, possibly partly scorched, heat damaged, or affected by smoke.  Even if they were still ok (apparently there were cases where the expanse of green healthy vines in a vineyard acted as something of a firebreak for crops, homes and buildings), how are wineries going to get to them?  It doesn’t sound particularly healthy or safe to put a crew on picking.   So, a lot of grapes are going to be lost in the vineyard.

 

If you were one of the luckier ones in this earlier harvest, a lot of your grapes are harvested and fermenting.  But a lot of folks can’t get to their wineries to do some of the simple things essential to the basic making of the wine.  As we have said many times on these pages, timing is an essential part of the winemaking equation.  Not everyone does things the same way, but each winemaker has a protocol that can be pretty time intensive at this part of the process.  Failure to do certain things at the right moment can create problems that cannot be fixed later on.

 

There are potential risks to existing stocks from fire, smoke or heat.  Some are preventable, some are not, but someone has to be there and able to do it.  Clearly that will be a problem for a number of producers.  Even if there aren’t the ‘specifics’ we mentioned to negatively affect grapes or wine, lack of access on the part of winery crews has its own unique set of problems this time of year.

 

Taking it a step further, what if the winery goes altogether?  You not only have what is being made, you have a bit of what was already made and still aging in barrel.  So not only is the current ‘crop’ gone, so are portions of the last one or two vintages.  At White Rock, one of the wineries rumored to be destroyed (their website tells a more positive story), they age their Cabernet in French oak for 20 months.  So, the potential existed to lose three vintages.

 

The final assessment isn’t in for them.  There are storage caves on the property which may have saved a lot of the stock.  But White Rock serves as an example of what can happen.  It isn’t the first name you think of when Napa Valley is mentioned, even though they have been there for decades.  It is a unique, small production property in Soda Canyon that has a very specific style.  They have a carefully established network for sales and most folks that have been around Napa Valley for a while know who they are.

 

So, let’s say they did lose as many as three vintages of their red wines (hopefully not).  They could buy something else and bottle it, but it wouldn’t be the same thing that consumers have come to expect.  They could be off the market for three years and have to start the distribution process all over again, no easy feat these days.  If some of their 40-year-old vines were destroyed, it would take them, you guessed it, 40 years to get to them back to the same point.  A lot of folks went through this kind of decision-making with phylloxera in the 90s, but that was a slow, predictable process not an overnight wipeout.  You can’t plan for this sort of thing.

 

Finally, and again White Rock is just a real name that represents scores of wineries in every conceivable state of disarray from this terrible tragedy, what happens to such labels in the meantime?  If you make tables, and one of your tables burns, you can make another one (yeah, we know that there’s at least one guy out there mumbling no two pieces of wood are the same).  You can’t remake wine.  Vintages, vine age, blends, etc., cannot be precisely reproduced.  The competition in the marketplace is the fiercest we have seen in our decades of doing this, so coming to the market with less than your best is an uncomfortable proposition.   If you don’t come to the market at all, that’s bad for other reasons.

 

On top of it all, you’ve got tourism.  We are old enough to remember walking into a tasting room in the Napa Valley and seeing the owner behind the counter.  Of course, that was the 70s.  That was light years from where it is now.  It is an industry unto itself.  We read one article that said ‘wine country’ (however they defined it) had more visitors than Disneyland in the last year.  How will all of this destruction and relocation affect that aspect?

 

This is a nasty situation, lives lost, property lost, jobs lost, and more jobs lost by the people that support the people in the industry.  The whole industry will feel the sting of something of this magnitude in a number of different ways.   It will take weeks to assess the obvious damages, but perhaps a decade or more to see the full, as yet unpredictable impact on the region.  However, none of it matters until the winds die down and the fires subside, and that can’t come soon enough.

Talking ‘bout a revolution…

It has been almost a half century since a guy named Antinori decided that the ‘rules’ in Chianti were far too restrictive.  The rules were put into place to prevent people from cutting corners and, in so doing, protect the appellation.  In the case of this producer, they turned out to be counter-productive.  The Antinoris were looking to reach beyond the appellation with better grape blends and a more refined barrel regimen.  The ‘appellation police’ essentially said ‘no’, that Antinori had to conform to the rules of the DOC if he wanted to identify with Chianti.  He said no, and the rest is history.

To Antinori the existing narrow boundary for winemaking and requirement to use certain ‘second tier’ varietals in the wine, were a severe handicap.  Since he felt constrained by following the rules, he said ‘forget it!’, essentially causing the ‘super Tuscan’ category to emerge. But the wine industry thrives on tradition, and breaking out of the ‘beaten path’ is harder than it would appear.

Antinori was a rebel, and his challenge of the status quo was legendary. But the wine industry is not afraid to change in many ways.  There are constant discussions about various techniques of winemaking, viticulture…how to make better wine, how to grow better grapes, etc.  But as far as questioning the very ‘definitions’ and ‘guidelines’ by which appellations are defined…revolts such as Antinori’s have been historically rare.

That said, there is a significant uprising going on in Spain that not a lot of folks have heard much about.  True there are a lot of rumblings in Spain these days about a lot of things9.  In the area of Catalunia in the northeast, which was an independent kingdom for a couple of centuries, there have been definitely been aspirations to secede from Spain proper.  Heck, the Basques to the north act like an independent country to some extent.  There has long been ‘turbulence’ in Spain, but nothing thus far has actually gone beyond that.  But there are disturbances in Spain, specifically Rioja, that threaten to significantly alter the modus operandi of the region.

A long-simmering conflict in Rioja kind of erupted when Bodegas y Vinedos Artadi announced its “decision to leave the Consejo Regulador of the D.O.C Rioja,” the region’s governing organization.  Artadi was founded in 1985 by a group of vintners led by Juan Carlos López de Lacalle and is located in the village of Laguardia, part of the Rioja Alavesa subregion.   We have sold Artadi for a long time (since the early 2000s) and they have never really marketed under the ‘traditional’ banner.  But eschewing the regional banner is a new twist.

The bodega has focused more on origin (bottling a number of single-vineyard wines, including its flagship El Pison) than on the common Rioja designations of CrianzaReserva and Gran Reserva. Artadi isn’t the only winery to do that. Muga, for example, makes a couple of wines that don’t follow the specific guideline of the appellation.  They don’t use the ‘official’ nomenclature, however.  They simply give those less traditional bottlings other names like Torre Muga and Seleccion that don’t confuse themselves with the ‘traditional’ designations that Muga also produces, and they still call everything ‘Rioja’.

What makes the move by Artadi notable is that, moving forward, their wines will not say Rioja on them at all!   According to the article we read, Lopez de Lacale says he is not trying to be a revolutionary.  In fact, in his mind, he isn’t doing anything different at all!  He was quoted as saying, “We would like to highlight that there is no change in our project…We will keep betting on the land and the vineyard as the main sources of value for our wines.”

Senor Lopez de Lacale claims he isn’t trying to lead a secessionist movement.  But it is a pretty major move to buck a century plus of tradition without a clear end game.  His wines aren’t going to say Rioja on them.  So what are they? The Riojanos have put in more than a century of work to get their region’s identity established in the world market.  A number of large concerns are benefitting from that identity, and the region seems to have made some real progress over the last decade or so in raising awareness.

Now what?  Where does it go from here? Is Artadi a ‘lone wolf’ or will more bodegas follow the Artadi lead, and to what end?  There are a lot of issues swirling around, and it is unlikely that a solution that will garner widespread support can be cobbled soon given the range of diverse range of concerns that seem to be at the heart of the matter.  There don’t seem to be any easy answers.

Part of the problem is philosophical. Rioja’s classification system permits only one geographical indication… Rioja.  That works as long as everybody is on board and all of the ‘players’ conform at least to the task of solidarity in representing the region.  Rioja has done a lot to elevate itself in the international wine market.  That solidarity of image has been a key part of the program.  Sure there are some mavericks that experiment with more modernist approaches to winemaking, but all under the “Rioja’ banner.

But there are forces that are pushing for a more specific identity within the region as a whole.  Telmo Rodriguez, a highly visible winemaker who has projects all over Spain, has been advocating implementation of a “village” appellation system (a la Burgundy) in Rioja for years. In January, El Grupo Rioja, the largest association of wineries in the region, issued a proposal to move in this direction, including formalization of criteria for village and single-vineyard designations!  A ‘Grand Cu’ map for Rioja in other words.

Also, Rioja’s three sub-regions (Rioja Alavesa, Rioja Alta and Rioja Baja) have been looking towards an opportunity to express their own specific areas beyond the simple catch-all ‘Rioja’ appellation.  According to an article in Wine Spectator, the Alavesa region (located within the very independent Basque area) wants to put the Rioja Alaveza designation on bottles.  In June 2015, 120 bodegas in the Alavesa region requested permission to add this indication to their labels, and officials in the Basque government have indicated their support.

Finally, the folks in Rioja have worked long and hard to create an international image for themselves.  They seem to be finally getting to a good place and a number of their ‘native sons’ are doing better than ever.  Is it worth blowing the economics of a united thrust for the sake of individualism? The largest bodegas have also built worldwide brands based largely on multi-regional blends of vineyards from all over Rioja.  If Rioja becomes a subservient appellation to, say, Rioja Alavesa, where are they left in the consumers view?

If a bunch of bodegas, arguably some of the more prestigious ones among them, eschew the Rioja handle altogether for something like Rioja Alavesa or Rioja Alta, or even something more specific like Logronio or La Guardia, where does it end?  What does that do to Rioja’s larger marketing thrust?  Most important, how will consumers, many of whom are just recently coming to grips with Rioja and loving it, deal with the confusion this kind of ‘upheaval’ can create?

“Clarity” is important part of the wine experience.  A lot of people like to be comfortable with regions and varietals before they settle in with the genre.  If things happen that cloud the identity of the region in the consumers mind, or a lot of big names back out of using the appellation name, it could undo a lot of what Rioja has done to elevate itself in the wine market over the last decade.

By the same token, how do the secessionists garner any kind of attention for themselves?  We are reminded of one of our favorite Spanish producers, Mauro, who hail from the Ribera del Duero adjacent, nebulously defined (in consumers’ minds) Vinos de Tierra y Leon.  The Garcia family makes killer wines here, but they don’t necessarily fall into a category that gets reviewed by a majority of the pundits.  They are technically ‘other Spanish wines’. So their name doesn’t get in front of consumers as much the wine merits simply because they are effectively independents.

The same would happen with those Rioja guys that aren’t calling it Rioja.  There isn’t a ‘category’ for ‘folks in Rioja that aren’t calling themselves Rioja’.  The whole fuss causes would-be buyers to have a more muddled picture of what the region, and the wines, are about. That is usually not a positive from a marketing and imagery perspective.

It is possible that, ultimately, a terroir-centric orientation might play better with the wine cognoscenti.  But it would involve a bit of back-tracking in re-educating people to the new terminology and the more specific landscape in Rioja. They make a lot of wine in Rioja, and something that undermines the broad message of Rioja would seem to be something to avoid.

Granted those rebels in Tuscany ended up creating a whole new category (‘super Tuscans’) that has elevated the whole region.  But it is important to note that those wines are typically estate, rather than regionally focused.  It’s ‘Tignanello’ or ‘Orenellaia’ that most people know, not the dirt they sit on.  Yes, Burgundy is a terroir focused region.  But it has taken centuries to develop the vineyard framework and most people still don’t understand it.  So if you like confusion, you already have Burgundy for that.

Rioja has never outwardly been about site specifics.  We don’t deny the importance of the terroir with something very specific like Senorio de San Vincente.  But they still call themselves Rioja.   We can’t really contemplate all of the complications that might occur down the road, particularly for Artadi who is the one pushing the issue.

We understand the independent spirit of Artadi, Rioja Alavesa, and Basque country.  We get the idea that the winery feels site specificity is important to their program.  As independent types ourselves, we admire their courage.  But having pioneered a number of genres ourselves over the years and taught consumers about all kinds of things they were not familiar with.  We are well aware of how difficult the education process can be even when it is relatively straight forward.  There can be wine-speak, curious foreign words, maps, and all manner of ‘information’ that isn’t necessarily easily digestible.

We also know the more complicated the explanation, the smaller the audience will be at the end.  As students of business, we have to wonder what the long term benefit for this kind of ‘declaration of independence’ is, and what kind of marketing mess it will create if more people follow suit.

 

FIRE AND ICE

Global warming and its effect are a concern worldwide.  Whether you choose to believe it is caused by greenhouse gasses, or is simply a part of some 10,000 year weather cycle, or choose to ignore it altogether, the effects are the same and the proof is there.  Yeah, polar ice caps melting and oceans rising is bad stuff.  But the problem isn’t right now, it is moving forward.  If the warming continues, the effects are serious.  But we aren’t scientists and can’t speak to the array of problems that will from temperatures continuing to edge up unabated.  We can relate it to wine, though.

If you go back in time, the greatest wine sites established themselves by virtue of quality.  But quality, while accepting terroir is a significant aspect of the process, doesn’t happen if the grapes don’t get ripe.  Incumbent in a site’s success is the ability to ripen grapes properly on a consistent basis.  The Piemontese, a generally practical people, figured out that the best sites for growing top grapes would be where the snow melted first.  We suspect the monks used similar wisdom way-back-when to figure out the whole Burgundy scheme.  The problem with global warming is that the successful sites, the ones with the greatest exposure, will get too much exposure.  They will be too warm.

But thus far that hasn’t been a serious issue.  How many times has a vintage like 2003 in Europe, with the extreme blazing temperatures, come along?  The rest of the time, the weather has been pretty friendly and we have experienced consistent strings of quality vintages in many important regions.  Sure there are inopportune rain storms and occasions where the grapes had a little difficulty getting fully ripe.  But the batting average has gone way up over the last 20 years.

Red Bordeaux perhaps provides the handiest example.  Let’s go back to the 20 year span from 1961 to 1981. During the period 1960, 1963, 1965, 1968, 1969, 1972, 1974, and 1977 were complete stinkers.  Beyond that 1964 was a half vintage (Right Bank, yes, Left Bank not so much), 1967 was nothing to write home about, and 1980 yielded a few forgettable early drinkers that were saved by emerging technology to an extent.  In other words, the sweeping generality was that more than half the vintages ranged from ‘not-very-good’ to ‘downright crummy’.

It got a little better over the next two decades, but there were still some serious misses (1984, 1987, 1991, 1992 and 1997) and a couple more (1993, 1994) in the ‘meh’ column.  Since 2000, how many truly bad vintages have there been?  Maybe two (2013 and 2007 though the Bordelais might argue 2013 is ‘useful’ and we’d add that the problem with 2007 was the prices more than the wines themselves)?  During that same period there have been 5-7 ‘vintages of the century’ (depending on how tough you want to be) and 4-5 others that would have caused dancing in the streets back in the ‘dark times’ of the 60s-70s.

Technology has had a hand in all of it, for sure.  But the point is that there hasn’t been as much need for the ‘magic’.  It has been a pretty good run thanks in part to global warming.  The batting average has been quite good in a number of prestige regions for a period of time.  So, tongue-in-cheek, we say ‘yeah’ to global warming.  It has been “berry, berry good” to the wine world thus far.  Ice has been a much more significant issue.  Frost and hail have had much more significant impact than heat in some key places.

There has been a lot of talk about frost this year in particular as one of the occurrences devastated vineyards in Bordeaux, Burgundy, Champagne, Northern Italy, and Spain.  The Loire has been a particular ‘whipping boy’ of the inclement weather turns.  There have been ice issues (frost, hail) seemingly on a regular basis.  The Loire claimed 70% crop losses in 2016, and took a pretty good beating this again year.  To make a point, here’s a quote from Wine Spectator attributed to said Guillaume Lapaque, director of the Indre-et-Loire and Sarthe wine federation, which represents 600 vintners, “Montlouis has lost three of its last five crops”.

The effect of frost and hail are devastating not only for the short-term but possibly beyond.  When a frost comes, it freezes whatever has grown on the vines, be that new buds in early April or established flower/fruit growth in June or July.  It disrupts the ripening cycle, sets back the plant, and, if it is severe enough, will even kill the vine.  The afflicted areas certainly will not recover for this harvest and possibly not the next.

The effect of hail is different, but no less devastating.  Essentially hail hitting a vine can knock off all the growth and even shred the leaves and canes in severe cases.   It’s like getting pummeled by thousands of little rocks, which isn’t a positive at any time during the growing cycle.  It damagges by virtue of knocking off the flowers or nascent fruit in the early stages of the plant cycle or damaging the fruit later on which, if it doesn’t destroy it outright, will open the path to all kinds of diseases.

A hailstorm, in August mind you, decimated 50,000 hectares in Burgundy and Bordeaux in 2013.  Guys in the Languedoc were cruising along just fine until a freak hailstorm wiped out 2500 acres in about a half hour.  Chablis got hit hard last year.  There are countless more stories, but the point is heat so far has not been the enemy.  Overall it seems vintages have improved some or at least become more consistent.  It’s the cold snaps that cause the serious problems and it seems we hear more reports of such things over the last few years.  This year in Europe has been something of a freak show for all kinds of ‘cold’ blights.

It is possible there is a connection to global warming and altered weather patterns, but we certainly don’t know enough to make that point if we wanted to.  The thing is that, unless you read the wine magazines pretty religiously, you wouldn’t necessarily know any of this was going on.  The vintage charts don’t tell you this.  In fact, an area that was hit hard early on in the harvest cycle can still produce a high quality crop and the vintage chart may look rosy because what little wine was made was quite good because of the Nature induced reduction of yields.  But there can be a lot less wine. Significant crop loss can leave the grower with devastating financial shortfalls.  Also, it is more likely to hit the smaller, artisan type producers we like to work with than some large corporate wine concern with economies of scale.

Global warming hasn’t destroyed grape-growers livelihoods that we know of as yet.  In fact the consistency of vintages over the last couple of decades might suggest that, thus far, it has been a plus for growers.  But there are some vintners in serious financial straits thanks to these little icy ‘surprises’ that seem to be happening with a bit more regularity.  It is hard not to feel for people whose anticipated income was ripped away without warning, and losing big chunks of quality juice does cause a ripple in the industry supply chain and can affect prices in an unwelcome way.

Yeah, global warming is a problem for a lot of reasons, particularly moving forward (though we did read about a company claiming to have the technology to mitigate greenhouse gasses the other day).  But as far as wine goes, we are presently much more concerned about the viticultural and economic effects of the ‘ice’ than the ‘fire’.

WHAT’S THE POINT(S)?

In an article in the newspaper the other day (yes, some of us still read those), there was a discussion about how much films have depended on reviews to generate interest.  The piece was making the point that box office receipts, in fact the difference between success and failure for newly released motions pictures, was predicated directly on receiving positive reviews.  Reviews have had an impact on a lot of things over the years…movies, restaurants, books, and, of course, fermented beverages.  But the gist of this article was that, these days, reviews are pretty much a life and death proposition for films.

Is this really news?  People are busier and the competition for consumer dollars is fierce.  There are so many choices for virtually everything, and consumers, faced with making decisions about entertainment, dining, appliances, etc., like to have someone to turn to for advice more than ever.  The critic fills that role and is put in a position of elevated power as a tastemaker these days.  It has to be frustrating (to say the least) for a studio to invest millions (tens of millions?, hundreds of millions?) into a picture or TV series only to have the whole thing derailed by a couple of bad reviews.  Talk about life on the edge.  But while this may be a frightening scenario to Hollywood types, all we in the wine biz can say is, ‘Welcome to our world’.

We have been doing this long enough to remember a time before everything was dictated by reviews.  OK, maybe that isn’t entirely true.  In olden times, wine scribes would write about wines in newspapers, offer their opinion using (gasp) words!  One guy talked about a wine he liked, people would read it, and perhaps go out and try it.  But then the paper would go in the recycling bin and eventually those flowery words would be forgotten.  Three things changed that had far reaching effects on the power of the review.

First was the review format itself.  Rather than occasional pieces and regular columns in a newspaper, or something published in a food-centric magazine that was usually no longer timely when it finally got into print, there were wine specific publications that came out on a regular basis that dealt specifically with wine.  The second thing was the familiar 100-point rating system which effectively ranks the wines in some kind of digestible pecking order.  People could save the books, magazines, or issues, and refer to them whenever they wanted to find out something.  Unfortunately these printed formats did have to be manually gone through when someone needed information.

As it has with so many other things, the internet changed all of that.  A wine buyer today can call on databases from a number of different publications 24/7 and has the ‘answer’ (if you want to call it that) right at their fingertips.  Consumers have the critic in their pocket, as well as price search tools, and even maps should they actually decide to drive somewhere in the context of wine buying. It has never been easier to get information.

Now there has been plenty of discussion on these pages about how a critical, scored review is like a photo, a picture of a wine at a particular moment in time, within the context of all kinds of variables including bottle development, wine temperature, barometric pressure, the biodynamic calendar, and a whole host of other things, all affecting the showing.  Then you have the critic interpreting what they see at that very fluid moment in time and passing judgment on the wine, absolutely and forever.  Finally all of this information is encapsulated and expressed in a single number that defines everything, and measures the wine’s value in the marketplace vis-à-vis other choices available to the consumer.

Ultimately that ‘number’ will be the most significant tool in the majority of decisions made about any particular wine by most people.  Does that seem fair?  Would you like your entire ‘being’ subjectively evaluated based on a single day or couple of days, for all of eternity?  Of course not!  Yet that is exactly what is happening with wines (and apparently a lot of other things these days) on a regular basis.  What is particularly disturbing is that this whole mentality has trickled down to the most peripheral of wine buyers and folks who aren’t particularly ‘dialed in’ on wine ask about rating validation before purchasing.

One supposes it’s easier that way, and someone can merely react to a perceived validation rather than wade through a lot of ‘winespeak’ (buttery minerals, creamy jimmies, blah, blah).  Busy people need fast answers, even if those answers don’t necessarily hold up under scrutiny.  What does a ‘92’ taste like? Hey, we get it. Though we don’t necessarily embrace it, we’ve learned how to play it.  A lazy industry handed the critics the power long ago, and that has been the way of things for three decades.  But as things continue to develop, and more would-be reviewers come on line, how is the consumer best served?

It has to be getting more difficult for consumers these days.  There are so many reviewers flinging scores out there, and often those numbers get detached from the actual reviewer and exist in a vacuum.  We do this every day and we have trouble keeping it all straight!  We’ve have gotten to the point (truth be told we have been this way for a long time) where we take nothing at face value.  Purveyors interject a score into a conversation without reference, and we ask who it is from.  Then we look it up.  The ratio of how often we are given the wrong data by suppliers, either cavalierly, ignorantly or with intent to deceive, is appalling.

But even if all of the information is correct and appropriately conveyed (good luck with that part), it is still a rather muddy proposition.  It’s a simple fact that big numbers sell wine.  You’ll have someone grouse about how a reviewer is too generous with their scoring, yet that same person isn’t likely to buy a $40 Cabernet that ‘only’ got 91 points, even if that is a strong recommendation for the particular critic that gave the score.

The person who makes a $50 Chardonnay is incensed when a critic gives him a ‘90’ even if there are only a couple of other wines that scored higher.  The problem isn’t the review in the publication, because no one will see it (most buyers won’t read down that far). It’s that the score will be there for all eternity when people look it up.  Is the consumer really served by this?  Does a 90-point $10 Chardonnay taste the same as a 90-point $50 example?  Is the price taken into account? Critics don’t address those questions, or make any statement about what the ratings mean.  So what is the takeaway?

As more reviewers crowd the field, the ‘numbers’ will only go higher.   Purveyors and merchants aren’t going to talk about how this or that wine got ‘89s’.  In the real world, no one cares or takes the time to calibrate, even if that 89 represents an enthusiastic tout for the particular reviewer.  Writers know that, and it is a real balancing act for them to generate reviews that people will quote while at the same time maintaining credibility with subscribers (we presume they think about that stuff).

Why do the writers care about being quoted by the industry?  Most of them won’t admit it, but that is their best form of advertising.  A review service is, after all, a business that relies on people paying into it.  The industry is a big supporter from a research standpoint (we now subscribe to six and very loosely follow a few others).  But consumer followers are clearly important, too.  Yet as the number of review services expands, we have to wonder how much the influence of each will be diluted.  Given that, who will be the ones that people follow (if any, maybe everyone will just read Yelp…ugh)?

The newer ‘services’ seem to generate somewhat higher scores.  Are they trying to deliberately get people to pay attention with more ‘quotable’ work (i.e. higher numbers), or are they just more enthusiastic?  Who’s to gauge whether it isn’t incrementally more exciting finding a sensational wine under $20 than an icon for the ages?  A couple of extra points aren’t hurting anyone if it guides people to cool stuff, right?

At the other end of the spectrum are the reviewers that score conservatively.  Respected writers like Stephan Tanzer (Vinous) and Alan Meadows (Burghound) don’t give away points like Halloween candy.  So even though they are specialists, and typically deal with pricier goods, their scores don’t seem very thrilling in the big arena with inflated scores being the norm these days.  A $300 Grand Cru gets a ‘93’ and a $12 Spanish red gets a ‘92’.  How is anyone supposed to make sense out of that, even when both reviews are well intentioned?

Take the California editor for Wine Spectator, James Laube (or ‘Angry Jim’ as we refer to him here).  The magazine in general, and he in particular, have seemingly taken on a ‘tough guy’ attitude with respect to scores.  One has to wonder how many people are going to be compelled to try anything after reading column after column of 91 point Cabernets with $100+ price tags.

The real question is which ‘camp’ is really serving its readers best in this market with a staggering number of choices and numbers flying everywhere?  And where will it go from here?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ALLOCATIONS: A CONTINUATION

In our last ‘dribblings’ piece we talked about why allocations as a marketing strategy were created.  Essentially it started as a way to apportion in demand goods to a wide range of customers, as well as a way for the seller to control the distribution patterns of his wines.  Admittedly, the fact that wine is a unique product that cannot be replicated or reproduced creates some scenarios that most businesses do not face, though the wine industry (mostly wineries themselves) have gone beyond what would be enough to effectively deal with the problem of limited stock to supply overwhelming demand.

Many wineries have taken the position that they not only want to sell their juice, but also micro-manage who gets the opportunity to purchase said juice.  Why would someone care about that as long as the wine gets bought and paid for?  We are not the people to ask, and can generate volumes with stories of wineries going out of their way to control where every bottle goes.  But it is a fact of life in the wine business and has been for a long time, both among those who have those high-demand, limited items, and those who’d like to think they do.

We regularly see special offers from wineries that have been so effective in ‘allocating’ that they haven’t sold much of anything.  But that is a story for another time.

At the end of our last piece, we made reference to some of the new techniques wineries are using in their ‘allocations’.  Another term for it would be ‘bundling’.  Wineries that have a successful item or two that people clamor for every year on their mailing list are now adding other products to peoples ‘allocations’ with the tacit understanding that the consumer is expected to take the entire offering.  If they don’t, it may adversely alter the amounts they are offered on the future.

We’re sure some of you have been in situations where your allotment letter of a particular in-demand, high dollar Cabernet comes and you note that the winery has also blessed you with a few bottles of their new $45 Sauvignon Blanc that they will tell you is very special, too.  You may not even like Sauvignon Blanc, but if you care about the Cabernet, the winery figures you’ll pony up for the Sauv. Blanc as well.  This is an aggressive tactic that takes FOMO (fear of missing out) and uses it to shoehorn more items into the consumers ‘cart’.

Hey, it happens out in the trade to some extent as well, though it is on the wane because, these days, there is simply too much great wine out there for a single winery to get away with it for very long.  We hear from a lot of consumers who want to sell their multi-year verticals of the ‘other wines they had to buy’ in order to get the wines they really wanted.  We stopped playing those games with suppliers decades ago but understand that people get super passionate about certain wines and will put up with a lot of silliness to get them.

The winery knows that, too.   If the winery is hot enough, they’ll just figure if you don’t want to play, someone else will.  It seems to be accepted practice these days, particularly among some of the direct-to-consumer wine programs.  We think the days of such things might be numbered.  The power of the single critic to create an instant icon isn’t what it used to be in the ‘print’ days, prices have soared on such wines to greatly reduce the potential demand, and we seriously doubt the next generation would respond to this kind of nonsense anyway.

Still, for whatever reason, people who make wine seem to believe it is their birthright to decide who can buy their wine.  We’ll go out on a limb and say that as much as vintners will try and tell you they allocate because they want to ‘protect their brand’ and ‘insure the widest possible distribution’, there’s more than a little ego involved.  Plus vintners would be indignant if you suggested to them that this process might create some of the problems they seek to resolve.

A number of ‘cult’ California wines turn up at auction every year because people on the mailing list have created a nice little income supplement by reselling their allocations.  The wines have become too expensive for normal people to drink, but there are some people out there willing to pay ‘mad money’ to get some of these items.  So people on the ‘mailing list’ will continue to take their allocations because they don’t want to lose them, and simply resell some or all of it.  Allocating didn’t solve that problem, it prolongs it.

“Wine, like water, will often flow to the place it is destined to be.” 

You have likely heard about the ‘grey market’ in certain higher end European wines.  This market exists because of the allocation process.  We’ll illustrate how it works with a curious American example that happened years ago.  A certain sales manager of a famous California winery was bragging that he exported wines to 25 countries and was about to add a 26th.  He was going to send 3 cases of his highest demand reserve Cabernet to Lichtenstein.   Could he have sold them here in a nano-second?  Clearly.  Does anyone in Lichtenstein care about this wines?  He couldn’t answer, but was going to do it anyway so he could add another pin to his map.

Now to illustrate how the ‘grey market’ works, let’s use our Cabernet in Lichtenstein.  Obviously the three cases are not enough to stimulate international trade, but it is the reason and mechanics we want to show.  So let’s say the buyer in Lichtenstein has no idea what he is going to do with this big time California Cab, nor does he think he can sell it for enough to make it worth the effort.  He will look around the world and see who is willing to pay a premium and perhaps try to sell it all in one shot to some other market, maybe even back to America if the price is right.  The American winery guy still smugly has his 26th pin in the map, but it really didn’t accomplish anything.

Wine, like water, will often flow to the place it is destined to be.  Say some top notch Burgundy house has a relationship with a distributor in Switzerland, developed over the years because the winery felt it needed to be represented in that country among others.  If there is enough profit, or an easier transaction to sell Switzerland’s allocation out the ‘back door’ to another market, it will happen.  The winery intended for this wine to be in Switzerland for lord-knows-what reason, but the mechanics of the marketplace will often prevail.

The winery/domaine decided to allocate its wines in a certain way to various world markets to achieve some perceived marketing strategy and distribution.  Why?  Again, don’t know.  But the point is he isn’t balancing supply and demand appropriately if the wines are being resold to other markets.  So what did this ‘allocation’ do really?  Clearly one or more of those markets didn’t need all they were given…and what were they supposed to do with the wine?

It is one of the great mysteries why the wine industry spends so much time worrying about apportioning wines to entities who may not care at all about them.  But it seems to be ingrained in the system, and we don’t see that changing any time soon.  If you ever wonder why our California section is more moderate these days, far too many wineries make it way more difficult than it needs to be to simply get products we’d be interested in selling.  Thankfully there is enough great wine in the world that such things as ‘allocations,’ and other such gamesmanship, really don’t have the impact they used to because there are simply too many great choices, most of which don’t have some sort of ‘sales prevention’ agenda.

Into the Wood

In the course of our business we have cause to interact with a lot of winery principals and winemakers. For the most part, we are passionate about the subject and so are they. Our general rule for buying is to taste everything that comes in the door with as little comment as possible and ask questions when we have them. Invariably there will be someone on the other side of the table that pushes us to make some sort of evaluation. “What did you think?” We usually tell them honestly because we are simply too busy to sugar coat it if the answer may not be to their liking.

We don’t claim to be winemakers. But we have tasted enough wine in our lives to have a pretty good idea of what is what, and likely have been through way more variety than most of the folks that make the stuff. Sometimes the discussions can get a little heated because telling someone their wine isn’t as special as they think is like telling them their children are ugly. We get that. But we see a lot of people in a day and, frankly, if you don’t give it to them straight, they are going to take up more time trying to make a sale they are never going to make. It’s a waste of our time and theirs.

While we do know our stuff, we are respectful of the difficulty of their task. When somebody ‘nails it’, we tell them that, too, because we understand all that goes into the process. There are countless decisions to be made at every turn in winemaking, and they are all mediated by the unpredictable weather. How to farm, how to prune, when to pick, and each of a plethora of other decisions has an impact on the final stuff in the bottle.

We know some people are aware of this stuff. But it is important for everyone to step back and look at it every so often.  It helps one to really appreciate the complicated nature of the whole process and how each decision compounds to take the juice to a totally unique end result, and one that is final. If you don’t like the color of your kitchen, you can paint it. With a lot of things, you can make changes to get what you want. One supposes you can do that with wine, too, via blending. But you will never have exactly the same juice in the end because every decision makes some difference (albeit sometimes minute) and you’ll never know for sure if the wine would have been even better had you made a different decision (or several) along the way.

Just to make the point, let us simply look at the question of wood. First, of course, is deciding whether or not you want to use oak at all. For some varieties, oak barrels may not enhance the wine,  so it may not really be an option. We do know producers that, even though the varietal or genre typically does not see oak, choose to have the juice spend the time in neutral barrels simply for the transfer of oxygen and textural enhancement.

Yes we said the ‘O’ word, and oxygen is wine’s greatest enemy…except when it isn’t. Yes, that oxygen in the empty portion of a half bottle of wine will kill it. But in the cellar, the controlled introduction of oxygen via barrels of larger volumes of liquid is an important part of rounding out the finished wine. Contact with oak literally polishes the edges and softens the mid-palate, desirable in some wines but not all. It can also impart tannins which can enhance or detract depending on the wine.

So the winemaker has to first decide whether wood fits into his program at all. If it does, then the fun really begins. The winemaker has to make multiple and sometimes collective decisions about how he is going to utilize oak barrels in whatever he is making. There are several adjunct decisions that go long with that, in no particular order.

He must consider the age of the barrels. Some only want the rounding out of the wine and therefore will use only barrels that are more than three years old. At that point, the amount of flavor influence the wood itself has on the wine is virtually nil. He can decide he actually wants a fair bit of oak influence in the finished wine in which case he may choose to use all new barrels. Or he may choose to use a combination of barrels of different ages so that he has some flexibility in blending at the end.

At that point he can choose how much of the oak influence makes sense for that particular juice.
It is important to note a couple of things here. The more common regimen is to have some new barrels, some one year old and some two years old so that there are plenty of options for blending. He must also decide how long to leave it in whatever vessels he chooses as that can affect the overall profile as much as the age of the oak. There seems to be a trend away from using high percentages of new oak these days on anything except the very top cuvee, and, even at that, we hear a lot of winemakers say they are ‘dialing back’ the amount of new oak.

So you’ve decided you are going to use oak, and have an idea of what you want to try with respect to the ages of the barrels. The next step, too, presents a huge arena of choices. French or American were, and still are the usual barrel options. But these days we also hear people talking about experimenting with Hungarian, Yugoslavian, or Russian woods as well. So you decide to go French. Which forest? Each particular oak has different tightness of the grain and imparts different flavors on the finished wine. The current darlings of the elite are Taransaud and Darnajou, but you hear names like Nevers, Limosin, Troncais, Allier and Vosges fairly regularly if you are paying attention to this sort of thing.

There are different sources for American oak barrels as well, but America is a big place. Woods can come from Pennsylvania, Missouri or Oregon (and those are just a few areas we hear about), and some insist there are vast differences between those, too. Of course point some winemakers will just buy whatever is the best they can find through a broker. Other folks are very specific and get more involved. Not only is the type of wood an issue, but so is the ‘toast’ level (how much the interior wood is fire toasted). The decision to use light, medium, or heavy toast has its own distinct and significant effect on the flavors of the finished wine over and above the type of wood.

One also must decide on the cooper, the folks that make the oak barrels. There are a number of barrel producers both here and abroad, and the quality of the barrel is as important as the components. Some folks even take it a step further and have strong opinions about how the oak is ‘seasoned’. Basically, when green oak is harvested, it is not ready to be made into barrels. It needs to dry out and lose some of the moisture related flavors that would be present (and be detrimental) to a wine. The fresh wood is seasoned a number of ways, either via a drying kiln or, essentially sitting in a pile for a number of years, often outside. Three years is kind of the standard but some winemakers insist that wood is not seasoned enough until five years.

There are those that take it to the extreme of having their own barrels made to their specification. The most extreme example we heard not long ago was a winery that liked three different kinds of wood equally. So they had the cooper create barrels from alternating staves of those three different woods, with only the barrel heads toasted and not the side staves. It can get pretty specific when taken to the extreme, but usually that happens after much experimentation has been done (and a few unsatisfactory combinations sold off) and needs become more focused.

We aren’t even going to get into the financial decisions that are incumbent to any of those aspects. A top notch, new French oak barrel can cost upwards of $1500+, which ads $60 to the cost of a case of 12 bottles. If you are making even 1000 cases, the ‘oak bill’ can be substantial and one’s ability to purchase exactly what they want, when they need it, or have to cut a corner or two, is one of those decisions that nobody really wants to talk about, but it happens.

One can make comparisons between a winemaker and a chef. Sort of. There is a lot more science involved in winemaking and the financial stakes are much higher in managing an entire vintage of a wine from start to finish than creating a dish for a menu.

Our point? Well, while we don’t always agree with winemakers choices, we are respectful and mindful of the myriad of decisions they have to make on every aspect of the winemaking process. The risks are greater if you make a mistake, and there aren’t really any ‘do-overs’ as the ‘timing’ and sequence of the process is part of the equation, too. There is no rewind. So if there is that much to think about just picking out a wood program, imagine the entire process. It is demanding enough when Nature cooperates, and when it doesn’t, everything that may have worked last time may not be relevant next time.

More Random Dribblings

ALLOCATION-THE ‘A’ WORD

“I recall trying to explain the ‘allocation’ model to my late father-in-law who owned pharmacies.  Usually he couldn’t get past the part where you just couldn’t buy what you wanted.”

This was one of the most powerful words in the wine business at one time.  For some parts of the industry it still has significant meaning.  Back in the day when there weren’t thousands of wines and unlimited information, certain wines achieved a popularity that outran the supply.  For those certain labels, the solution to trying to keep as many people happy as possible was to come up with a reasonable way to apportion what there was among the various accounts/people that wanted it.  Sounds simple on the surface, and one could make the assumption that it is a somewhat fair and legitimate process with regards to its execution.  That assumption, of course, is based on an understanding of the criteria and we can tell you wineries do not likely have the same agenda in mind as you might.

I recall trying to explain the ‘allocation’ model to my late father-in-law who owned pharmacies.  Usually he couldn’t get past the part where you just couldn’t buy what you wanted.  Unless there is some crisis, the idea of ‘rationing’ (that’s what it is, really) does not come up in virtually any other business.  The object of most businesses is to sell as much as you can.  But the wine business is unlike others in that you have finite amounts of goods that cannot be reproduced or exactly replaced.  Given this unique situation, the wine industry not only sort of invented the idea of apportioning sales via ‘allocation’, but has also figured out a number of ways to use it to their advantage, as well as a few ways to muck it up and abuse it.

The original program was to first decide how much to give to restaurants and retailers, and then divvy it up between the various accounts within those categories that are deemed worthy.  Why go to so much trouble to sell what you are going to sell anyway?  The concept is to try and keep as many people involved with the label as possible so the wine/winery can maintain the largest possible audience for the future.  If production increases over time, there presumably will be a waiting clientele.  The allocation ‘lock-down’ allows the winery to micro-manage the distribution and prevents evil merchants (yes, like us) from taking down huge chunks.

It certainly helps the allocation process to have wines that people want to buy.  But not everybody likes the same things so an allocation for someone who doesn’t care about the wine seems a pointless exercise.  But it happens all the time.  There was a ‘brand manager’ for a wholesaler not long ago who somewhere along the line decided that restaurants were the key to his ‘brand building’ plan.  In this case, the importer’s book was centered on value-driven Spanish and French wines which routinely got great reviews and were enormously popular at forward-thinking retail establishments.   There was a built-in audience for these wines and the wholesaler had to do some ‘allocating’ to keep as many high performing accounts as possible as happy customers.

This ‘guru’ decided that it was important to establish these wines in restaurants even though they were selling well already on a retail level, and weren’t obvious plays in most restaurant programs.  To that end, this individual ‘allocated’ the wines to ‘restaurants only’ who proceeded to not care a lick.  Very salable wines sat at the wholesalers for months while this individual was out trying to sell them to eateries.  In one particular instance the wholesaler was sitting on 100 cases of a highly reviewed Spanish wine that was ‘allocated for restaurants’.  After four months, there were still 96 cases left to serve the Southern California market.  The wholesaler finally called ‘nonsense’, the stock was released (it sold out immediately) and the ‘brand manager’ was relieved of duty.

In most businesses people are happy to sell things.  In the wine biz, people feel the need to have input on where their wine goes.  Whether you think that is a reasonable premise or not, many times the restaurants (or whatever) on the receiving end of an allocation don’t necessarily want it.  In most cases they simply can’t use the wines.  Most restaurants don’t necessarily need another $200 Cabernet that would sit on their list at $600.  They don’t necessarily care about a high scoring Spanish wine at a French eatery.  So allocations, intended to simultaneously give an air of exclusivity to the wine and make the recipient feel special about being included in the ‘club’, are often an exercise in futility at that level.

Finally, you have the case of the winery/distributor/importer, who may have been allocating you a singular particular wine for quite some time, suddenly create/import a new wine…or, worse yet, have some leftover stock of something else.  They might include some of those ‘not-quite-so-scarce-or-in-demand’ items ‘bundled’ in your ‘allocation’, with the tacit understanding that you are expected to take your whole allocation or potentially lose the wines you really want down the road.

Yeah, we’re not huge fans of the A-word.  If we were, there’s a good chance you wouldn’t have that special bottle of wine in your cellar that you’ll be enjoying this weekend.  Make it a great one…