It’s a political year, and while I won’t get into politics, I do want to talk about spin. Politicians are famous for putting their “spin” on things, and I think it’s appropriate that “spin” can be put into our wines as well. Most of you know my spin for Pinot Noir: I’m not crazy about either its power or finesse style—but I’m also not crazy about different styles within any grape variety in general.
But I’ve recently read a few articles that put a different spin on things. Maybe it’s my age that’s allowed me to see the Sauvignon Blanc market nearly killed, and it still hasn’t made much of a comeback (except, God bless, for the Kiwis, who’ve finally taught Americans what Sauvignon Blancs are all about). For the last 20-plus years, I’ve been promoting Sauvignon Blanc as wonderfully grassy and herbaceous…and then wineries started producing a fruity (more tutti-frutti) wine that’s closer to Kool-aid than a true Sauvignon Blanc. Were it not for the Rochiolis, Dry Creeks and Prestons, no one would have ever loved Sauvignon Blanc.
Then along came Zinfandel, shaking off its reputation as nothing more than a “Dago red,” and what happens? There were some delightfully fruity, elegant wines produced, and then there were the monsters—with 16 or more percent alcohol that would eat the glass if not poured carefully (many of them are still out there). The point is, the consumer never knew what to expect when buying one. In marketing, this is called “consumer confusion,” and it generally results in losing a customer: “Let’s see, I’m never sure what I’m going to get when buying a Zinfandel—a monster or a wimp—so screw it. I’ll buy a Cabernet, which is much more consistent.”
You, my faithful reader, would never have that problem because you’re knowledgeable, but what about our less sophisticated friends? Why has Chardonnay maintained its reign as queen of the whites? Not because it’s always good (or bad), but because it’s always consistent (that is, tasting like an oak 2×4 with butter, just to varying degrees). As an aside, have you tried any of the low oak/no oak Chardonnays on the market? Chardonnay actually does have some character—even when you don’t beat it to death with an oak board.
Anyway, back to my original point about the many different styles of Pinot Noir. My honorable wine-writing friends are now always writing about old world versus new world, power versus finesse, lighter, fruitier, high in alcohol, low in alcohol and on and on. I suppose this is all wonderful—if you’re interested enough in wine to appreciate all of the nuances. But what about poor Joe Lunchbox?
Oh, sorry. I forgot that anybody who can even afford a locally produced Pinot Noir is far more than a neophyte in wine consumption. Anyone who pays $35 or more for a bottle of wine and doesn’t know what to expect was never a teacher at the public trough. We couldn’t afford that luxury. Someone once asked me why Pinot Noir costs so much, and I said it’s because consumers are willing to pay that much. I’m sure growers and wineries will tell you the cost is high because of the expense of raising a very small crop and the winemaking effort needed, but that would be a first, since no other wine price is based on cost of production. It’s always what the market will bear.
In all fairness to Pinot Noir, let me be the first to admit that it’s a difficult varietal to grow and to make, because it has so many clones (it’s genetically unstable and mutates readily) that every winemaker has his or her own favorite blend. When planting Pinot Noir as a grower, I’ve always recommended finding a winery first and working with the winemaker to decide on clone, spacing and rootstock. That probably sounds all fine and dandy, until I throw in the caveat that winemakers play musical chairs every couple of years, and you may end up with something the new winemaker won’t like—which means you could be SOL. Pinot Noir isn’t nearly as versatile when it comes to the climate where it likes to grow. It’s considered a very cool area grape, which is why the Russian River Valley is an ideal place for it. Some areas in the South Coast (down around Santa Maria and Santa Barbara) also produce a very good Pinot Noir.
In 1990, there were 807 wineries in the country. Today, there are 2,687…and I swear half of these new ones are here in Sonoma County making exclusively Pinot Noir. You can’t pick up a paper, flier or other propaganda piece and not see a half dozen new Pinot Noir labels, all for $35 to $50 per bottle. I’m somewhat confused, but does making a small quantity guarantee very high quality? Personally I think price is far more a function of availability that quality. (A small hint: Try Kenwood Vineyards Pinot Noir for a sound wine at a fair price.)
Let me finish with a few fun numbers for you. I already gave you the number of wineries in the country, but what about production? California shipped 554.4 million gallons last year, up from 423.1 million just 10 years ago. Eighty-seven percent was table wine, 8 percent was dessert wine, and about 4 percent was sparkling wine.
What color would you prefer? In 1991, 17 percent was red, and today, 43 percent is red. White has dropped from 49 percent to 42 percent, and blush is down from 34 percent down to 15 percent. I guess the heyday of White Zinfandel is disappearing. I’ll bet, however, that you can still go to many restaurants on the East Coast and Midwest, order Zinfandel, and it will come out white (pink). What a frightening experience—I’ve been there and done that in more places than I care to count.
In closing, I have a question: With wine consumption so low in the United States, why do wineries here bother exporting wines to other countries? Is it so they can go on sales trips to Europe and write it off? Why not go to Des Moines and sell the same amount? There’s probably not enough ego to say, “I sell wine in Des Moines.” It sounds much better to say London. I guess I can understand that. OK, homework time.
