What Makes a Wine Great?
Liberals and Conservatives Battle over Wine.
Right wingers, made up of the old establishment, which includes much of the sommelier community will spend their lives espousing traditional values, extolling the virtues of wine’s nuance, heritage, and versatility with food, while the die-hard liberals salivate for hedonistic, glossy fruit bombs that embody all the sinful carnality of the here and now. Conservatives will preach repentance from jammed-up sluts and the critics who associate with them. Liberals perceive the establishment much like their wines: crusty, bland, and high maintenance. The more to the left or right one goes, the more fervor and incense with which the great debate rages: What makes a wine great?
Okay, maybe I’m sensationalizing things a bit. I don’t mean to pigeon-hole the entire wine world; there are always levels and layers. Be that as it may, the party lines have clearly been drawn, and at many a dinner table have things turned equally as ugly as a seemingly harmless political discussion gone awry.
‘Twas not always so. The massively front-loaded, drink-now school of wine-making is a relatively recent phenomenon. It has only been within the last ten or so years that the dichotomy between old and new school has been met with such public animosity. Quite frankly, it’s getting old. The prides and egos. The constant bickering. All of it. Retailers ridiculed. Sommeliers scoffed at. Critics crucified. Am I really gonna tell a winemaker in Paso Robles not to celebrate the sun? The community of wine, which should be furthered, is instead being hindered by people whose spirits have become as fermented as the grapes they war over. Who is the victim in all of this? “Mainstream Joe Consumer” who doesn’t know whether to believe the sommelier who came to his dinner table, the winemaker he visited last fall, the retailer who helps him make buying decisions, or Robert Parker’s 100 point scale.
Make no mistake. I’m not asking the wine community to lay down its spine. I admire people who stand their ground and hold their beliefs dear to them. I don’t even mind them sharing those beliefs passionately. God knows I admire passion. What I’m adverse to is pawning one’s opinion off as if it is gospel with complete disregard for someone else’s palette and/or world view. I’m adverse to blurring the line between opinion and fact, subjectivity and objectivity. Do you prefer over-the-top, fruit driven wines? Great. Do you have a low threshold for green or herbal flavors? Cool. Is a food-friendly wine and afterthought to a bold, stand-alone elixir that slaps you upside the head? Fine. Would you rather pop the cork now than wait ten years? Get in line. You’re one of many. Conversely, are you captivated by funky, earthy flavors that may or may not stem from brett or VA? Do you desire a wine’s aroma, flavor, and texture to seduce you like a beautiful lady who passes by with that subtle essence of a gorgeous perfume? Do you get palette fatigue after sip one of a bottle of Hundred Acre or Mollydooker? Is wine to you more of a grocery to be paired with a meal as opposed to a meal in and of itself? Do you enjoy the arc of a wine’s life, watching it evolve and gain complexity over time? Fabulous! You’re not alone either. Just do me a favor people: Throw down your weapons! Take the gloves off!
I love sushi. My dad doesn’t. I look at my dad and think “How can you not like sushi?! It’s delicious!” In the desert island scenario it would be my one cuisine for all time. I literally can’t get enough of the stuff. I want my father to like it as much as I do. I encourage him to keep trying it in hopes that he’ll cultivate a taste for it. He’s tried. It’s not happening. My father respects sushi. He acknowledges that it’s a world class cuisine. He’s just not into it. Fair enough. A lot of people aren’t into a lot of things when it comes to food. Why should it be any different with wine? You can tell a person what to love. You can encourage someone to embrace what you embrace. But at the end of the day, their palate and world view will steer them where they need to go.
So what makes a wine great? Those in the know will concur on some objective criteria: depth, complexity, purity, varietal correctness, balance, typicity, length of finish, etc. It’s when the hairs begin to split and ego creeps in that flaring tempers inevitably follow. Ultimately, it boils down to this. Great wine should make you want to take the next sip. I’ve heard this expression used a million times, but it still rings true on time a million and one. For the glutton, that would mean big fruit, big alcohol, and big oak. For the puritan, that would mean anything that is varietally correct and pairs well with food. Most of the wine world falls somewhere in between with caveats abounding. I encourage everyone to cross party lines and decide what makes them want to take the next sip. If on that journey you wind up a conservative, don’t get on your high horse. If you wind up a liberal, respect the establishment who aspires to uphold traditions which have been honored since antiquity. If you lie anywhere in between, keep the peace!
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