How Restaurant Wine Lists Are Sexist

Bad headline, on an otherwise good column. The list itself is not sexist. This piece is really about how the wine list is given to a table. The crux of this chef’s frustrations mirror mine – there’s only one list that everyone has to share, which doesn’t give patrons enough time to decide before the server tries to take a drink order.

The sexism, of course, stems from its history, which I’m glad the author included:

The one-wine-list convention harkens back to before the 19th-century creation of the modern restaurant concept, and as mentioned has everything to do with patriarchy. At Spanish dinner tables, for example, the head of the table (read: the father) would be given a traditional Spanish carafe of wine called a Porrón, which sported a long, tapered spout that facilitated reach and aim as he poured wine, at his sole discretion, directly into the mouths of his sons.

You’ll note I said, “sons,” because the mother and any daughters were not at the table – they were serving the meal.

Later, as haute cuisine took hold in France and then in America, stuffy maître d’s in long white aprons would present the head of the table with a menu and a wine list, and the lady would receive a food menu with no prices listed (she presumably should not worry her pretty little head about such things). 

Now if there’s sexism in the way the actual list is created, then that’s a story I’d really find interesting. 

How Restaurant Wine Lists Are Sexist

The vines don’t know it’s a drought, they got some moisture just as they were waking up. They’ve been ahead of schedule all year and they keep cruising in the warm weather.

Jon Ruel, president of Trefethen Family Vineyards and former president of Napa Valley Grapegrowers, providing a good explanation for why harvest in California appears to be early this year.

I realize this particular story is a few weeks old now, but after continuous news stories about California’s drought and excited tweets from vineyards about their harvest start time (including Hirsch Vineyards, which announced its earliest harvest in 34 years!), it was a good re-read and gave some perspective of what’s happening with the 2014 vintage.

Readings On Wine Study

Here are a few interesting stories that crossed my twitter feed this weekend:

* New York Women Make Marks as Masters of Wine: Lettie Teague writes about the three MWs living in New York City. She briefly makes mention to how difficult it is for women to be  taken seriously in the wine world – but except for some anecdotes, I wish Teague dove into that topic further. Some interesting facts from the story: All three women are over 40 and had previously high-paying careers unrelated to wine (This gives me hope that I’m not jumping in too late). A scarier realization is that most have spent $40,000 to $80,000 (mostly on wine and travel) just to receive their diplomas (This may put this dream a little more out of reach).

* Drinking At 1,300 FT: A 9/11 Story About Wine and Wisdom: This story is from 2011, but if I read it back then, it would not have had nearly the same impact nor would I have felt a personal connection and understanding. Aside from the fact that this writer was paid to go learn about wine, making me incredibly jealous, it’s his “ending” that he finally discovers (and which I can relate to), which gives him the ability to write the story nearly 10 years later. As we approach another 9/11 anniversary, it’s a good read – but this year, for me, the date gets to take on another meaning: On that Thursday, I start WSET classes. 

Two wineries plan to produce a crowdsourced wine

When I saw Columbia Crest launch their project earlier this week, I had a mixed reaction – part of me laughed and part of me wanted to pay attention. Then a few days later I noticed La Crema doing something very similar. My first impression was maybe there’s a business connection between the two. But here’s proof in this LA Times story that it appears to be a coincidence. Or maybe they hired the same marketing firm who’s keeping mum. 

In my day job we use crowdsourcing for a few reasons – to learn something new from many individuals or get them to provide information we can’t gather on our own, and as a way to engage our audience. But in the world of marketing – especially social media marketing – its primary focus is on engagement.

Wineries are not going to learn something new from those participating – except their customer preferences (aka market research). But they will get customers to engage with their projects, learn about their wines and forge a personal connection to the winery. The outcome is an entire customer base when their new crowdsourced wine is in the bottle and ready for purchase.

It’s a smart marketing gimmick with a measurable ROI that can also help brand recognition. But I worry the old saying “too many cooks spoil the stew” may create something nearly undrinkable (or maybe they’ll get lucky). I just hope there are other strategies in place to convince customers their other bottles are worth purchasing if this one doesn’t turn out too well. Then again, enjoying a bottle of wine is always greatly enhanced when you have a personal connection or positive memory associated to it. In that case, maybe the actual quality isn’t as important.

In the meantime, the projects will be fun to watch. Maybe there’s enough of an audience out there not as cynical about marketing strategies as I can be.

Two wineries plan to produce a crowdsourced wine

Discovering Italy In Virginia Vines

I finally made my way into Virginia wine country. This is Barboursville. I’ll admit that much of its history was lost on me. After a two-hour drive from Washington through rolling country side, I was relaxed, ready to stretch my legs and try some wine. The grounds are gorgeous. This view is just from the parking lot, but they have 900 acres to roam through. And on a non-humid barely 80-degree day in the middle of August, there’s nothing to complain about.

Barboursville makes a lot of wines! I failed to count, but I’m guessing we tried at least 12. What stood out were the Italian varietals, which are their specialty. After all, the modern winery that’s there now was born from an Italian winemaker. The Sangiovese makes for a nice table wine – juicy and not too overbearing. Medium bodied and well balanced. The Nebbiolo was dark and intense, with meatiness, earthiness and complexity. And while neither put me over the edge to purchase, I did later have a glass of the Nebbiolo during our stop at Early Mountain (which features many other Virginia wines besides their own).

I brought home a single bottle of the Barboursville 2010 Octagon, a Cabernet, Cabernet Franc, Merlot blend with one of the longest finishes I can remember. Funny – because after enjoying the Italian varietals, I chose the one wine I generally avoid (Cabernet and Cabernet blends are often at the bottom of my tasting lists – but that’s a posting for another time).

Salute!

Realizations From A Blind Tasting

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Two hours and 12 glasses of wine. A bit overwhelming, but amazing nonetheless. Here’s what I learned:

* I’m still a novice when it comes to understanding “acidity” and “minerality.”

* I was pretty good at identifying wines, except when age and an unfamiliar region came into play. Such a fun reminder that wine is a living, breathing organism so heavily impacted by where it came from. And an even better reminder that I need to taste more of those wines.

* Some of the sweeter wines grew on me. I generally prefer dry wines. But so long as it’s well balanced, the off-dry wines were very appealing.

* I’m better at identifying wines through mouthfeel, acidity, taste and how full or light bodied they are, rather than identifying the bouquet.

* I need to be attending more of these classes, so I’ve decided to sign up for WSET classes. I can’t wait!

What We Really Taste When We Drink Wine

In advance of a blind wine tasting class I’m taking later this week, I found this story of particular interest. Especially this:

In one of the most prominent studies of how expectations can influence taste, Gil Morrot, a wine researcher at the National Institute for Agronomic Research in Montpellier, and his colleagues found that the simple act of adding an odorless red dye to a glass of white wine could fool a panel of tasters (fifty-four students in the University of Bordeaux’s Oenology program) into describing the wine as exhibiting the qualities associated with red wine. The tasters thought they were tasting three wines, but they were actually tasting only two. There was a white Bordeaux, a red blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, and the same white Bordeaux colored with a red dye. When Morrot looked at the tasters’ responses, he found that they used similar descriptions in their notes on the red and colored-red wines (chicory, coal, cherry, prune, cedar, and the like), and markedly different ones when describing the white (floral, honey, peach, grapefruit, pear, banana, apple).

What We Really Taste When We Drink Wine

Natural Wines

I’m not sure what started the online blow up of natural wines that has all the heavy weights writing and tweeting this week. It seems like the topic is more divisive than it should be, and has that childish quality of  "my toy is better than your toy.“ 

But because this crosses my own interests in biodynamic wines, the expression of terroir and curiosity of a hands-off approach to winemaking, I’m doing my best to wade through the debate. 

The first piece I spotted was this Newsweek story by Bruce Palling: Why ‘Natural’ Wine Tastes Worse Than Putrid Cider. I’m slightly appalled that such an opinionated article is under the Newsweek banner without the word "opinion” or “column” or even an explanation of who the author is. The commenters have done a good job calling him out, though.

Next, British wine blogger Jamie Goode posted on his site: I love natural wine, but…  He’s smart to talk about it from the perspective that it’s becoming too cult-like, rather than “inclusive and welcoming." 

And now, The New York Times’ wine aficionado has this to say:

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Even four years ago this was a heated argument. He writes in the column from 2012:

Almost two years ago, I likened the natural-wine discussion to a hornet’s nest, which had set off disagreements all over the world of wine. If anything, the fracas has worsened, except that now the loudest voices are those of condemnation. The criticism raises the question of what, exactly, people find so threatening about natural wines and the people who enjoy them.

Clearly, critics perceive the natural-wine partisans as self-righteous, scolding and sanctimonious fundamentalists, even if the evidence is supplied only by implication. That is, if you call your wine natural, what does that make mine? Unnatural? Manipulated?

I don’t have a firm stake in this debate, but it seems silly to go back and forth on what is the best winemaking method, when one of the amazing things (at least to me) about wine is how every drop that’s produced can be completely unique.

How to Make Mass-Produced Wine Taste Great | Magazine | WIRED

Wired has a good piece today on Paul Draper’s quest to pressure other winemakers to list all the ingredients on their labels. Among other reasons, doing so, the industry fears, will take the romantic luster out of their products. But that’s not the link I’m posting on top of this page.

As much as I’ve been reading (and trying the wines) of the In Pursuit of Balance group – who avoid many of the ingredients that would appear on the labels of mass-produced wines – I’ve never really taken the time to study the logistics of making wine at bigger operations.

But Wired was smart and keyed to this piece I missed back in April that I’m now sharing with you. It’s a good infochart that breaks down the increasing wine consumption numbers, along with the additives and other tricks that go into wine making.

But as noted in the Draper article: 

“For thousands of years, wine has made itself with guidance by man, rather than being made by man,” says Draper. The greatness of a wine should be driven by the grapes and the earth they come from, not what a tinkerer can do with them in the lab.

History has his back. In Bordeaux, vigneron is the term for a grape cultivator, the man who works the fields and tends the vines. But, notes Draper, “In French, there is no word for winemaker.”

How to Make Mass-Produced Wine Taste Great | Magazine | WIRED