With spring approaching and new wind blowing, I find it relieving that there are a few others who agree with the direction mine blows. Granted, the question might be whether I agree with them or they agree with me, but regardless, the issues are there.
Before starting that, however, I found some interesting bits of information on Wikipedia after I’d written last month’s column about mod or pop wines or garbage—you can make your own judgment—regarding areas where it should not be sold. “Community groups in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle and Portland have urged makers of fortified wines such as Wild Irish Rose and E&J Gallo’s Thunderbird and Night Train brands to pull their products from the shelves of liquor sellers in skid row areas.”
In Tennessee, police warned a retailer “to stop selling his biggest selling product, Wild Irish Rose, because it encouraged homeless people to linger in the area.” Am I a predictor of things to come? No, this article was written in 1993, so this obviously isn’t a new problem, but one that probably needs to be addressed again. We can recommend using fancy glasses and demanding “real” cork but we, as an industry, won’t stop selling cheap drunks and rot gut. Maybe if the feds will reclassify these products to something other than wine, we can continue to keep our heads in the sand and forget we’re adding to a serious social problem.
In 2005, the Seattle City Council asked the Washington Liquor Control Board to prohibit the sale of certain alcoholic products in an impoverished “alcohol impact area.” The products included more than two dozen beers and six “wines”: Cisco, Gino’s Premium Blend, MD 20/20, Night Train, Thunderbird and Wild Irish Rose. The continued availability of these products and the social issues they cause might be one of the reasons the term “wino” still persists among the 60 or 70 percent of our population who don’t drink or think positively about wine. How about if we start putting corks in these products? Then they’d be harder to get into and less might be consumed. Maybe the cork really is a two-edged sword—stops the good guys from wine also. Is there a lesson to be learned here?
While on the topic of image, it was with great interest that I read a commentary in the Minnesota Star Tribune titled “A useless designation helps only the winery.” It too was about image, but on a different level. This image is directed at those foolish enough to believe such terms on bottles as “Private Reserve,” “Grand Reserve,” “Vintner’s Reserve,” “Winemaker’s Select,” “Special Selection” and “Private Selection.” Shouldn’t all wines fit the definition of “Winemaker’s Selection”? Fancy terms and what some consider high-end packaging—heavy bottles, corks, gold or platinum on the label—are used to sell the image of the wine, and in fact quite frequently don’t always agree with what’s in the bottle. We also all know that we’re all too proud, most of the time, to admit we got sucked in by an expensive, high-end package that said something like “Grand Reserve” and the wine didn’t live up to its billing. But we paid a lot, so shouldn’t it be as good as Trentadue Old Patch or Marietta’s Old Vine Red? (Two of the best bargains left out there.)
There must be some middle ground out there in regard to image. It seems we currently only have a choice of a Rolls Royce or a camel. How about some really good wines with a screwtop in an environmentally sane bottle and package that we can afford to drink regularly without having to auction off our first born?
Some more of that wind that blows and agrees with me comes from Oregon. Most of you know that I’m not a consumer of Pinot Noir, but that doesn’t really matter with regard to an article in The Oregonian by Steve Duin. He agrees that Oregon wines are annoyingly overpriced. I bring this up because I think many of the things he says about Oregon are true right here as well. “Most people get into this business because they don’t have enough money to buy a baseball team,” writes Duin. “They start with a $5 million house, then put some decorative vines around it. Then they build a $25 million winery and hire a rock star winemaker.”
Are we sure he’s in Oregon? Or is he in Napa or Sonoma with that statement? His point is, they forget the most important and difficult part and that is to sell the product. He points out that Oregon has tried to convince wine lovers that the wines are expensive because they’re so expensive to produce with ungodly grape growing costs and low yields. (Sounds like home to me.) He sums this up as an “abject failure.”
Then he writes that the Oregon Wine Board’s marketing push has been “Certified Sustainable,” which has about as much sex appeal as “UL approved.” Put so well, and so true, I won’t even try to improve on it. Finally, he states that the ego-driven appellations destroy the ability to sell Oregon itself. “When half of Americans can’t find Afghanistan on a map, how can we expect them to parse the difference between Chehalem Mountain and the Eola Hills?” (Read Rockpile and Chalk Hill, or Calistoga and Rutherford Bench.)
We all know the industry requires some ego, but does it have to be the king with everything else, like common sense, sound marketing, understanding the frailty of Americans’ geographic knowledge, and other issues taking a back seat? Some may think the Great Recession is over, but that won’t solve all our marketing deficiencies. Fair prices, ease of consuming, a sound product and an improved knowledge base would all help. Maybe even our northern neighbors can tag along.
OK, homework time. As spring sets in, don’t forget some of the really good dry rosés that are now being produced.
Rich Thomas is professor emeritus, Director of Viticulture, at Santa Rosa Junior College. He is also a vineyard consultant in the North Coast. You can reach him at rthomas@northbaybiz.com.
