A few years ago, when the amazing Pete Wells was still reviewing restaurants for the New York Times, I thought about how differently Wells and I needed to approach our jobs as writers and reviewers.
What if, I mused, Wells were greeted one morning at the door of Per Se by chef/owner Thomas Keller and whisked through the darkened dining room into the kitchen where everything was laid out for him to taste a wide array of just-prepared entrees and desserts, taking notes and quietly assigning a point rating for each preparation? Was the Dover sole “a la Grenobloise” a 97 or should I bump it to 98? Then he would turn to Keller and interview him about how the dishes were prepared and, oh yes, hadn’t he undergone some recent changes in his culinary philosophy?
Conversely, what if I showed up under an alias for an appointment for a $200 wine experience at Opus One in Napa Valley? Instead of conferring and tasting with winemaker Michael Silacci somewhere in the bowels of the winery, what if I would be ushered into a club-like room overlooking the vineyards and have a one-on-one winery tutorial and wine tasting with matching food delectables curated by an estate ambassador?
I’d then walk away and write a review of my visit with some helpful suggestions for any wine tourist reading my evaluation, and then I would decide whether the Opus One experience was worthy of five stars or only four. I might even conclude that it required a follow-up visit at a different hour to check variations in experiences.
These differences in reviewing wines and how they are made and in reviewing foods and the restaurants that prepare and serve them came to mind recently when a friend told me he and his wife were planning a visit to Savona, Italy, then traveling to Florence and finally by train to Venice before continuing to Eastern Europe. Were there two or three wineries along the way in Italy I would recommend their visiting?
While considering how to reply, I knew the experiences he and his wife would have at these wineries would be different than mine had been when I visited the winegrowers in recent years. Would experiences be as rewarding for them as they had been for me – or perhaps even more so?
It’s a bit of a fantasy, of course, but I have occasionally wondered through the years if more readers of the journals where I am published would prefer a review of a winery visit as they might experience it as wine tourists instead of my analysis of the wines, how they are made and the evolving philosophy of the winemaker?
And, turning the situation on its head, now that more restaurants, even those serving gourmet menus in sophisticated settings, are also offering takeout meals express delivered to someone’s home, wouldn’t those customers be just as happy if Wells and his professional colleagues would simply review the restaurant’s menu? “Just tell me what the food tastes like and forget about ambience and whether the restaurant has easy wheelchair access.”
Conversely, when I started writing about wines many years ago, few people visited wineries in person to taste and purchase wines. And, if they did, the only experience they might have had would be a perfunctory walk through with instructions not to trip on the hoses or slip
on the wet floors. When I began wine writing in the 1980s, I knew that few readers would be visiting Joseph Phelps or Ridge or Dry Creek to taste the wines in person that I was writing about.
Then Robert Mondavi came along with his wife Margrit and changed everything. They welcomed guests into their new Oakville winery as they might into their living room, matching foods with wines in a sparkling setting with optional, well-designed vineyard tours. Gradually, sophisticated wine tourism became a dominant part of consumer wine experiences on a worldwide basis.
Today, it isn’t unusual for friends on their return from a winery tour to ask me if I have ever been to certain wineries in Napa Valley (as there are more than 400, the chances are that I have not been) or in Walla Walla or even Bordeaux or Barossa Valley. Even if I have visited, I haven’t seen the tasting room or had the $150 food pairing that, I am assured, was just fabulous.
Not that I never just walk into a tasting room unannounced. My wife and I will sometimes take wine vacations with three other couples, most recently to northern Virginia. Some of the individual winery visits are arranged in advance, but some are just drop-ins. Either way, the visits at least begin or end at the front of the house. And when I return to my computer, I might knock out a wine tourism piece with only general comments on the wines and no solo bottle reviews.
But back to Opus One. Last spring I attended the Napa Premiere festivities and auctions as a guest of Napa Valley Vintners. I lined up in advance a set of winery appointments to winegrowers that would be featured in assignments (several located on Howell Mountain), to those where I had become professional friends with the owners (the Cathiards at their new (Cathiard Estate) and to those that I had somehow never got around to visiting in the 40-some years that I have been going to Napa (Opus One).
As it was a busy time with tons of retail wine merchants seeking appointments, I asked to visit Opus One as a wine tourist might see it rather than scheduling a winemaker appointment.
My winery ambassador, a friendly, well-spoken, middle-aged woman, met me at reception and gave me a walk-around tour inside and outside the upstairs area with lots of history and viticultural details. Then we sat in comfortable chairs in a beautiful lounge area, nibbled some food and tasted some wines. Yes, she said, I was getting to sample a library wine or two that most guests might not have, and she thought I might enjoy an impromptu walk through the winery downstairs as I exited. Yes, I needed to mind the hoses.
Without a doubt, if I wrote a Pete Wells-style review of Opus One, it would have ended with a rating of five stars. Although I might have felt a little guilty that I based that rating on only one visit – perhaps another ambassador would not have been as charming and erudite.
The wines? All were exceptional. But don’t expect individual ratings, although it’s most likely they all would have rated at least four stars.