Yesterday after our general sales meeting, I was asked my thoughts on high-alcohol wines. The question reminded me that five years ago I was asked a similar question by the editors of Wines & Vines magazine...who then asked me to put my thoughts in a small article on the subject. I thought that you might find my article of interest. I'd welcome your comments!
"Be it fashion, cars or food, American consumers are seemingly obsessed with fads, and the wine trade is no exception. Each and every year sees the emergence of a darling new buzz word that's bandied about by our nation's retailers, restaurateurs, distributors and wine press. Canopy management, terroir, brettanomyces and TCA have all had their day in the sun. Last year gave rise to yet another--pardon the pun--hot topic: alcohol content.
2005 saw increased interest in (and articles written about) the perceived growing tendency toward higher alcohol levels in wine; specifically, New World wines. In almost every case, the discussion can be boiled down to one sentiment: Higher alcohol is leading to a global homogenization of wine. These sentiments extended well beyond our own borders, with many wine writers--most notably of late, Michael Broadbent and Hugh Johnson--lamenting the trend. I even found my own wines being the focus of this discussion, of all places on the front page of The New York Times.
While you can argue the pros and cons of this trend, I'd like to present another argument, and it is this: By summarily dismissing a wine due solely to the alcohol statement on the label, these same critics are contributing to their dreaded homogenization of wine, too.
Now, I will be the first to concede that the alcohol level of the average table wine has risen over the last four decades, but this is not a uniquely American phenomenon. Alcohol contents have been on the rise in nearly every region of the wine world. Advances in yeasts and fermentation nutrients, coupled with a predilection for picking at (here comes 2003's buzz word!) physiological ripeness have had a direct influence on this.
I will also concede that there is indeed an increasingly visible (due, in no small part, to the media's fascination with them) group of winemakers--both here and abroad--for whom higher alcohol contents appear to be a stylistic preference. These "late pickers" are looking to craft wines that, they feel, will garner a higher rating (and thus, a wider audience) due to the wine's ripe, generous flavors, unctuous texture and sweeter finish. Much has been written of this trend, almost all of it negative. Critics of late-picked, high alcohol wines raise fears that their prevalence leads to a future where every wine begins to taste the same.
I think we can all agree that the most profound examples of wine reflect some sense of place--its terroir, if you will. Terroir has certainly been one of those hot buzz words, and rightly so. The diversity of soil, climate and aspect is what allows a marketplace wherein thousands of wines find a home. France is different than Spain, California is different than Oregon, and Oakville is different than Rutherford. One is not better than the other, just different. Most folks who've lately been deriding high-octane wines lose sight of a salient issue: There are those regions that, by very virtue of their terroir, are going to produce wines of naturally higher alcohol. My winery happens to be located in just such a region.
Here in Paso Robles, it's understood that sugar development is typically in advance of other ripeness indicators. It's not at all unusual to have a vineyard whose sugar is at 23-24[degrees] Brix, but pHs that are in the basement, seeds that are still green and flavors that are unripe. By the time you've got all the parameters for physiologic ripeness, the Brix could well be in excess of 26[degrees]. That's natural. The result? Well, if you're not manipulating the fruit/juice/wine, the result is a wine that's going to be in excess of 16% alcohol. Sure, the wine will be "big," but if the fruit was grown for quality, picked at physiological ripeness and the winemaker was attentive, it will be big-yet-balanced. And it will reflect the natural conditions of the place where it's grown. Isn't that what those fearful of an over-manipulated, homogeneous, stylized world of wine are screaming for?
In my business I regularly encounter wine writers, trade members and consumers who will, upon seeing a wine that boasts an alcohol content of 15% to 17%, immediately raise concerns. That's natural, in much the same way they may voice pejorative statements about an appellation, producer or grape variety. To pre-judge a wine, especially when it's based on a number--be it a rating or alcohol content--is a fool's game. It's in the tasting of the wine where "the rubber meets the road."
Disapproval of a wine based on alcoholic content is tantamount to saying the wine world would be better off without Chilean wines. Or XYZ winery. Or Merlot. If you don't like a wine, that's fine. But don't set out to seek its demise. In doing so you run the risk of becoming that which you bemoan. You effectively reduce the number of options for consumers, and that most certainly leads to a world where everything tastes the same."
Saturday, May 22, 2010
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