Robert’s Rules of Wine Appreciation

Oct 1, 2011 | Blog

I have only two hard and fast rules when it comes to tasting wine. The first is never scoff. The second is that there are no other hard and fast rules other than rules No. 1 and No. 2.

These rules have never been more important than they are today because of the growing divide among wine enthusiasts about what qualities personify a good wine. The answer to that question used to be whatever Robert Parker, the notorious wine critic, or the Wine Spectator, the most impactful of the major wine magazines, liked.

Of course, for thinking consumers that was never the case. But most consumers don’t really want to think when they’re shopping the wine aisles at the grocery store, at least not much beyond the price and the fact that a wine might have third-party endorsements — newspaper column recommendations, wine competition medals or an impressive score from a known wine critic — that help it stand out from the sea of choices.

What has changed in recent times is the level of confidence with which consumers now make their buying decisions. Whether it’s because of the Internet and the rise of wine blogging, or the remarkable growth of the business in wine bars that offer eclectic alternatives to the conventional wisdom on what tastes good, the mood of the wine consumer has changed.

There is significant pushback now away from the rich, bold and powerful wines that are favored by the likes of Parker and Wine Spectator. There is an entire movement that has coalesced around the notion of "natural" wine, or wines made with minimal intervention by the hand of the winemaker.

So I was more than a little curious when I was invited last week to a coming-out party for a local wine made in the rolling hills east of San Diego. The wine, Los Pilares, is a blend of 50-percent Carignan and 50-percent Grenache. The owners — Michael Christian, Coleman Cooney, Jay McCarthy and Pelin Thorogood — were very excited.

I imagined they were much like the growing cadre of natural wine producers you might find elsewhere across the United States: passionate, dedicated to their ideals, disgusted with the direction modern wines have taken and completely and utterly convinced their take on wine is righteous and likely the wave of the future.

I would never scoff at their dreams and ambitions, but I did come away with a few observations.

To begin, their wine was decent and pleasant to drink. It was made without the use of oak, and the addition of sulfites (a natural wine preservative) was kept to a minimum. I found the wine to be a bit under-fruited, but it wasn’t green or vegetal. It exhibited good acidity with a trace of minerals. It will no doubt shine its best when enjoyed with food.

Is it a great wine? No. Does it have the potential for greatness? No.

As more than one of the owners explained, the inspiration for a local wine made in a minimalist fashion was taken from the European model of simple homemade wines made for personal consumption. I was reminded of one of my earliest experiences lodging and dining at an agritourismo in Tuscany.
 
We drank the wine from the farm, which was made in the old days simply for family consumption.

The wines were interesting initially, but after a couple of nights I finally asked for the list of wines stored in the cellar of the farm. These were commercial wines, Chiantis and Brunellos, and they were a sight for sore eyes. I must confess, I never returned to drinking the homemade wines during the rest of my stay.

While I do think the Los Pilares was far better than most of the homemade wines I’ve drunk in France or Italy, I can say with a degree of certainty that I’m not ready to forgo the top wines from great producers that are aging slowing in my cellar.

There is no right or wrong here. I happen to be ecumenical and enjoy wines produced in myriad styles. But if you like the blockbuster, that’s perfectly fine. When I come across a blockbuster wine that I find impressive, I will be sure to share the info with you. Or if you prefer wines of more modest dimensions, so be it. When I find a delicate wine that speaks to me, I will certainly pass along the recommendation.

I am in neither camp. I can see the lines have been drawn and each side believes it is on the right side of what is good and right. As for me, I will continue to blur the lines. For as soon as you make a hard and fast rule about what you like, you will surely taste a wine that is the exception.

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