The Wine Savant: A Guide to the New Wine Culture (7 page)

Winemonger

Monika Caha Selections

FRANCE

Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant

Alain Junguenet/Wines of France

Becky Wasserman Selections

Robert Kacher Selections

Dan Kravitz/Hand Picked Selections

Jenny & François Selections

Jon-David Headrick Selections

Roy Cloud/Vintage '59 Imports

Martine's Wines

FRANCE/GERMANY/AUSTRIA

Savio Soares Selections

FRANCE/ITALY

Rosenthal Wine Merchant

FRANCE/ITALY/SPAIN/GERMANY

Louis/Dressner Selections

GERMANY

Rudi Wiest Selections

GERMANY/AUSTRIA/CHAMPAGNE

Terry Theise Estate Selections

ITALY

Marc de Grazia Selections

Leonardo LoCascio/Winebow

Neil Empson Selections

Vias Imports

Domaine Select Wine Estates

SPAIN

José Pastor Selections

De Maison Selections

Gerry Dawes Selections—the Spanish Artisan Wine Group

Jorge Ordóñez

Olé Imports

Grapes of Spain

SPAIN/FRANCE

Eric Solomon/European Cellars

EVERYWHERE

Michael Skurnik Wines

Polaner Selections

Vineyard Brands

Kysela Père et Fils

Weygandt-Metzler

C
OLLECTING
W
INE

People collect wines for two reasons: so they can drink them at a later date and so they can sell them for a profit at a later date. Wine investing can take different forms. Collectors will sometimes buy two cases of a wine, intending to sell one of them for a tidy profit so they can drink the other one effectively for free. But some people buy wine purely for investment purposes; in fact, some wine investment funds are now available to “high net worth” individuals, as they are known. (Wine is what's referred to by financial wizards as an “alternative asset class.” Nothing like Wall Street jargon to drain the romance out of something.) These funds invest in blue-chip wines—mostly top-growth Bordeaux—and pay out investors in cash; the wines are never actually consumed. It is no surprise that people have started wine investment funds: over the past thirty years, wines such as the 1982 Château Pétrus have delivered amazing returns. However, those huge returns are probably a thing of the past, and wine speculation, if not exactly immoral, is certainly antithetical to what wine is all about.

If people wish to buy Pétrus purely for investment purposes, that's certainly their prerogative—and I have the right to belittle the practice. Sure, wine is a business. But it is also a beverage, meant to be drunk. Hemingway once said that wine is “the most civilized thing in the world,” and he was right. To reduce wine to a mere commodity, to see it as no different from pork bellies or gold bars, strikes me as completely counter to the spirit of wine. Robert Parker has said that he was repeatedly invited to appear on Louis Rukeyser's
Wall Street Week
but declined every time because he knew that the host wanted to talk about wine as an investment opportunity and he found the idea anathema. Parker took an admirable stand, and the wine world owes him a debt of gratitude for his outspoken opposition to wine speculation.

But wine speculation may be a self-correcting problem at this point. Prices for the most sought-after Bordeaux, both older vintages and more recent ones, are now exorbitant—over $1,000 a bottle in good vintages—and it is hard to see them going significantly higher anytime soon. Ditto the most acclaimed Burgundies. True, Burgundy prices more accurately reflect supply and demand than Bordeaux prices; Domaine de la Romanée-Conti makes just 6,000 bottles a year of its flagship wine, called Romanée-Conti, whereas Château Latour annually pumps out nearly 200,000 bottles of its
grand vin
. Still, with Romanée-Conti selling for $5,000 a bottle in top vintages these days, it's hard to imagine that there is much additional upside for the wine. One can argue that the likes of Pétrus and Romanée-Conti are now fairly valued or overvalued; it is hard to argue that they are undervalued. And one thing that is sure to keep a lid on prices going forward is fear of fraud. The huge run-up in prices for top wines naturally created an incentive to create counterfeit bottles, and it appears that the rare-wine market has been flooded with fakes.

Although few bargains are to be found in Bordeaux and Burgundy, there is value elsewhere—not the kind of value that will yield big financial returns, but value that can deliver a lot of drinking pleasure at prices that are, relatively speaking, quite attractive. In particular, four categories of wines are arguably undervalued relative to the quality:

• 
Classic California Cabernets
Wines such as Ridge Monte Bello, Montelena Estate, and Mayacamas have been among California's standard-bearers for decades now, and they remain at the top. Bottles from the 1970s, '80s, and '90s can still be picked up for attractive prices, and current releases are reasonably priced, too.

• 
Old Riojas
Riojas from the 1940s, '50s, '60s, and '70s can be some of the earthiest, most complex and pleasurable wines around. Look for bottles from López de Heredia (still making great wines), La Rioja Alta, CVNE, Marqués de Riscal, and Marqués de Murrieta.

• 
Old Barolos and Barbarescos
The Piedmont region of Italy is a red-wine Valhalla, and few pleasures are more sublime than drinking a great old Barolo or Barbaresco. Wines from producers such as Bruno Giacosa, Giuseppe Mascarello, Bartolo Mascarello, and Giacomo Conterno are not cheap, but they are, in my view, equal in quality to the finest Burgundies and Bordeaux and sell for a fraction of the price.

• 
Vintage Port
Much of the world seems to have lost its taste for dessert wines, and vintage Port has been among the casualties. Sales are not bad, but they aren't particularly robust, and sensational vintage Ports from legendary houses like Taylor and Fonseca, both new releases and older vintages, can be had for very attractive prices these days. You can add Madeira and Sherry to this category.

All wines get old, but few wines actually improve with age. In fact, most wines are meant to be consumed on release or not long thereafter. However, a fairly sizable list of wines do reward cellaring; it includes Bordeaux, Burgundies, Rhônes, Napa Cabernets, German Rieslings, Barolos, Barbarescos, vintage Ports, and some Champagnes. By
reward
, I mean that the wines will take on greater aromatic complexity as they mature and will display a level of refinement beyond what they are capable of showing in their youth. Not every Bordeaux or Burgundy or Rhône gets better with age; in general, only the finest ones do, and how much they improve over time, and how long they will last, varies from vintage to vintage. Broadly speaking, white wines age on their acidity, red wines on their acidity and tannins (though it must be acknowledged that some of the greatest red wines of the last century came from vintages that were relatively low in acidity). Whether white or red, wines that come from warm, ripe years have the most aging potential.

To me, the most persuasive argument against costly wines is a slightly picayune one: fear of 2, 4, 6-trichloroanisole, or TCA, a chemical compound that is harmless to humans but lethal for wines. TCA is what makes a wine “corked,” giving it an off-putting damp cardboard aroma and rendering it lifeless on the palate. When you hear people talking about corked wines, this is what they mean, and it is estimated that 5–10 percent of wines sealed with natural cork are tainted in this way. If it is a $10 Côtes du Rhône you bought last week, no big deal; you take it back to the store and exchange it. But if it is a 1986 Ramonet Montrachet that's been sleeping in your basement for fifteen years, you're screwed: the wine is undrinkable, and the store that sold it to you, if it is still in business, is probably not going to refund your money.

T
HE
W
INE
W
ORLD'S
S
EARCH FOR
C
LOSURE

For an oenophile, there is no bigger buzz kill than opening a wine you've eagerly anticipated drinking and discovering that it is corked—and if you drink wine long enough, this is bound to happen to you, probably more than once. As you might imagine, lots of wine enthusiasts, and many producers, too, have long wished for an alternative to natural cork and an end to the problem of corked bottles. Those prayers have been answered: several alternative closures for wine bottles are now available. However, they are not without problems, too.

The most prevalent alternative is the screw cap, which in certain places, such as Australia and New Zealand, has overtaken natural cork. But screw caps have some serious flaws. One of the advantages of natural cork is that it permits a little oxygen to seep into the bottle, which helps wines to age well. But screw caps admit no oxygen, and as a result, the wine often shows signs of what is called reduction, which expresses itself in the form of a rotten-egg or cabbagelike aroma. (If you've ever had a “skunked” beer, it is the same smell.) Some evidence also suggests that screw caps don't hold up well over time—that they start to decay after a certain point—which would obviously be a strong disincentive for producers of fine wines (
grand cru
and
premier cru
Burgundies, classified-growth Bordeaux, and the like) to use them. A number of those producers are known to be experimenting with screw caps to see how the wines fare over the course of ten or more years. Even if the results are encouraging, it will probably be a long time before you start seeing screw caps on high-priced Burgundies and Bordeaux.

Some winemakers are bottling their wines under synthetic corks, but these have been shown to be rather poor sealants, permitting too much oxygen into the bottle. Glass stoppers are now also on the market, but they are relatively costly, which has thus far prevented them from catching on in a big way. In the meantime, there is at least some anecdotal evidence that natural cork manufacturers, faced with rising competition, have improved the reliability of their closures and that the incidence of cork taint is declining. That would seem to be the best solution of all, because natural cork really does excel as a stopper. And—call me sentimental, call me a Luddite or a flat-earther—I will also admit that I adore the sound of a popping cork; it is part of the romance of wine, and I would hate to lose it. Lose it if we must, I say, but I'd rather we do not.

I
S
T
HERE A
S
TATUTE OF
L
IMITATIONS
ON
R
ETURNING
F
LAWED
B
OTTLES?

If I purchase a bottle from my nearby wine shop, open it tonight, and discover that it is corked, I will take it back to the store tomorrow expecting to be offered a refund or a replacement bottle, and I hope the merchant will do just that (I hate arguing in public). But what if I put the bottle in my cellar and don't open it for a year? Should the store still be willing to take it back? What if I don't pull the cork until, say, 2018?

This is an issue for which there are no regulations or guidelines; retailers make their own rules. I think it is reasonable to expect a retailer to take back an obviously corked wine within twelve months of the sale, and as long as the customer has a receipt, I see no reason why such a wine can't be returned eighteen or even twenty-four months after purchase. And it's worth pointing out that the merchant doesn't eat the cost of that damaged bottle: the cost is ultimately passed back to the winery. But after two or three years, it might be tricky to get a retailer to agree to refund the money. That doesn't necessarily mean you are out of luck. If it is a foreign wine, you might approach the importer and see if something can be done (perhaps the importer can arrange a refund or help get you a replacement bottle). If it is an American wine, you might go directly to the winery; the good ones care deeply about customer service and may well be willing to replace the bottle.

However you decide to handle the issue, you need to be sure that the bottle really is corked or otherwise damaged. If the wine just isn't to your liking, that's a tougher proposition. If you bought the wine on the recommendation of the merchant, he or she should be willing to take it back; if you bought it of your own volition, there is no obligation to do so, though a smart retailer, like a smart restaurateur, will go out of the way to make the customer happy, even if that means losing a few dollars.

4

Wrath of Grapes

W
HO SAID
there is no disputing taste? For many oenophiles, part of the pleasure of wine is arguing about it. In recent years, the wine world has seen a contentious debate over what can be called, for lack of a less ponderous phrase, first principles. What defines quality in a wine? How about authenticity? Is it ultimately more important for a wine to taste good or to taste true to its origins—to exhibit
goût de terroir
, as the French say? And if the end result is agreeable, does it matter how a wine was made? With much of the wine industry fixated on branding and marketing and technology increasingly giving vintners the power to bend nature to their will, these questions have taken on added urgency, and the discussion of them has grown ever more acrimonious, with terms such as
anti-flavor wine elite
and
spoofulated
being tossed around like hand grenades.