The 'B' word
***This is going to be a long one. Apologies in advance.***
Tom at Fermentations wrote a bit about What makes for a good wine review?. The timing is somewhat curious because of the wine that I had last night and the thoughts it provoked. The crux of Tom's commentary is that a good review puts the wine in question into 'context'. It is precisely that which I hope to do here and now.
The bottle in question is the Baroli Barolo DOCG 1998. It was a sample bottle that had been opened on Friday morning. My sales rep had shown it to other accounts and left me with the remnants. The bottle sat in the cellar from 5:30pm Friday through to about 9:45 Sunday evening, untouched. On my way out the door, I grabbed the bottle and headed home. After a shower, the Financial Advisor and I settled into the couch for a night of marginal television. It turned out to be educational night three fold: Tsunamis, The power of locusts, and the wine Barolo.
Outside of German Riesling, Barolo may be the most generally mis-recognized wine that I have come across. I should offer this caveat: In all the wines that I have tasted, I have honestly had about 5-6 Barolos. (This, in no way makes me an expert on all things Barolo and thus may discount everything that follows, but I hope not.) Inquiring a few people today, the average is somewhere between 5 and 10 per person. And the folks that I asked are 'full-time' in wine sales. What's the point? I suspect that most people, while they may have heard of Barolo, don't really understand what one is. Hell, I've had more California Sangiovese than Barolo and I don't sell or like the stuff. Given this, what does the average consumer think about it? Who knows?
Let me start with a crash course in brain surgery. The wine Barolo comes from the Piedmonte region of Italy. It is one of three primary wines from this region but rest assured there are myraid others. The big three are the sisters Barbera(d'Alba or d'Asti), Barbaresco, and Barolo. In the interest of confusion, the first is made from the 'Barbera' grape (the d'whatever refers to locale grown) and the two latter wines are made from the 'Nebbiolo' grape. Got it? Good, there will be a test. The manner in which a Barolo comes to be is the big difference. According to local law, the wine must be aged for at least two years in cask and one year in bottle. These are the minimum requirements and it is not uncommon for houses to age them longer. It is these practices in concert with the terroir and the very nature of Nebbiolo that create this peculiar wine.
What does the general public think/know about Barolo? This is something that I have been pining on all day. At the risk of indicting the entire wine media in this country let me say this: It is damn near impossible to effectively describe this or any Barolo in the 'sound bite' format that most magazines offer. I fully understand that Spectator can't offer a dissertation on every wine, but this is not a wine to be summed up in 25 words or less. Secondly, a quick glance at Parker's website yielded 1,192 Barolo reviews. Based on ratings alone, one has to go through 12.5 pages (at 50 wines per page) to reach the first wine with a score of 89 points. Exactly 623 wines have been rated 90 points or higher. The prices range from 'N/A' (which could mean 'don't ask' or 'don't bother) to $500. Let us think about the average consumer. What would they think to be 'expensive'? So here's the scenario: Half of the the Barolos reviewed by Parker are 90 points or better. (Remember, 90 points from anybody, much less Parker is the magic number.) And precious few of them are cheap. Given the 'price = quality' mentality to which most people subscribe, one might begin to believe that 'if you ain't drinking Barolo, you ain't drinking shit'. While I may agree (never mind the double negative), I propose this very rhetorical question: How many Barolos have been purchased and under-appreciated? How many bottles were opened with the old 'Parker gave this a 96', only to be 'outshined' by some $25 Cab or Shiraz? Far too many, I fear and this is because of a severe lack of context.
As per the aging method, these wines taste 'old'. That may sound a bit odd, but I can't really come up with a better descriptor. Again, the bottle consumed last night had been open for better that 2.5 days. Straight away, the F.A. commented on the nose. It screamed with the metallic aromatic that I would normally associate with a better Burgundy. I know that doesn't necessarily sound all that appetizing but what the hell, that's how I read it. The metallic aromatic was tempered/balanced/outdone (depending on the amount of time in glass) by the 'rusticity' that I would normally identify with in an Italian red. I know that sounds vague, but imagine what old wood smells like or possibly an old book. Not in the musty sense, just aged. Obviously, this is influenced by its time in barrel. Finally, and towards the end of the bottle, the F.A. (at a loss for analogies) proclaimed the wine to smell like handmade chocolate truffles. Spot on. A better (and more immediately recognizeable aromatic might be that of chocolate powder (slightly sweetened). On the palate, the wine was quite interesting. It drank like a Chambertin (Burgundy) with an uber-shot of tannin. The wine did not reveal a great deal of flavor profiles. What you could dial into was there one moment and gone the next. The wine was all about subtlety. To re-iterate, this was on day three and it was drinking phenomenally. One side note, the last pour that I had (and the last of the bottle) held a great deal of tartrate crystals. I have opined in the past about the (welcome) presence of sediment and the like and this was no different. The crystals are more or less proof that (at the very least) the wine did not experience cold stabilization. It is also more than likely that the wine was not fined or filtered. This is good.
To wrap this up, I feel that most people are expecting something quite different from what they get when opening a bottle of Barolo. Referring to the price = quality ratio, $60 - $150 per bottle would lead one to think that the wine is going to knock one's socks off. (It will, just not in a way they thought) Couple that with consistently high ratings and the groundwork is laid for almost inevitable disappointment. Most people, when spending this kind of money would expect certain traits in a wine. And truth be told, a Bordeaux from 2000 or whatever 'Cult Cab' from California will deliver on at least a few of these expectations, albeit in different ways. Not so much with Barolo. To draw a somewhat random analogy, it is like spending $80,000 on a car. You could buy the uber-luxury touring sedan or you could buy an original Model T. One is designed to cruise at 95 mph and the other at about 8. In the end, it's all about motivation. While it may be cool to 'get it on down the line' at a good clip, you miss alot on the way. And while it may be a pain in the ass traveling at a snail's pace, you get to see everything in your path. The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. This is not to say that one is better than the other, just severely different.
Once more, I apologize for the long winded nature of this thing, but I told you this wine couldn't be 'sound-bit'.
Tom at Fermentations wrote a bit about What makes for a good wine review?. The timing is somewhat curious because of the wine that I had last night and the thoughts it provoked. The crux of Tom's commentary is that a good review puts the wine in question into 'context'. It is precisely that which I hope to do here and now.
The bottle in question is the Baroli Barolo DOCG 1998. It was a sample bottle that had been opened on Friday morning. My sales rep had shown it to other accounts and left me with the remnants. The bottle sat in the cellar from 5:30pm Friday through to about 9:45 Sunday evening, untouched. On my way out the door, I grabbed the bottle and headed home. After a shower, the Financial Advisor and I settled into the couch for a night of marginal television. It turned out to be educational night three fold: Tsunamis, The power of locusts, and the wine Barolo.
Outside of German Riesling, Barolo may be the most generally mis-recognized wine that I have come across. I should offer this caveat: In all the wines that I have tasted, I have honestly had about 5-6 Barolos. (This, in no way makes me an expert on all things Barolo and thus may discount everything that follows, but I hope not.) Inquiring a few people today, the average is somewhere between 5 and 10 per person. And the folks that I asked are 'full-time' in wine sales. What's the point? I suspect that most people, while they may have heard of Barolo, don't really understand what one is. Hell, I've had more California Sangiovese than Barolo and I don't sell or like the stuff. Given this, what does the average consumer think about it? Who knows?
Let me start with a crash course in brain surgery. The wine Barolo comes from the Piedmonte region of Italy. It is one of three primary wines from this region but rest assured there are myraid others. The big three are the sisters Barbera(d'Alba or d'Asti), Barbaresco, and Barolo. In the interest of confusion, the first is made from the 'Barbera' grape (the d'whatever refers to locale grown) and the two latter wines are made from the 'Nebbiolo' grape. Got it? Good, there will be a test. The manner in which a Barolo comes to be is the big difference. According to local law, the wine must be aged for at least two years in cask and one year in bottle. These are the minimum requirements and it is not uncommon for houses to age them longer. It is these practices in concert with the terroir and the very nature of Nebbiolo that create this peculiar wine.
What does the general public think/know about Barolo? This is something that I have been pining on all day. At the risk of indicting the entire wine media in this country let me say this: It is damn near impossible to effectively describe this or any Barolo in the 'sound bite' format that most magazines offer. I fully understand that Spectator can't offer a dissertation on every wine, but this is not a wine to be summed up in 25 words or less. Secondly, a quick glance at Parker's website yielded 1,192 Barolo reviews. Based on ratings alone, one has to go through 12.5 pages (at 50 wines per page) to reach the first wine with a score of 89 points. Exactly 623 wines have been rated 90 points or higher. The prices range from 'N/A' (which could mean 'don't ask' or 'don't bother) to $500. Let us think about the average consumer. What would they think to be 'expensive'? So here's the scenario: Half of the the Barolos reviewed by Parker are 90 points or better. (Remember, 90 points from anybody, much less Parker is the magic number.) And precious few of them are cheap. Given the 'price = quality' mentality to which most people subscribe, one might begin to believe that 'if you ain't drinking Barolo, you ain't drinking shit'. While I may agree (never mind the double negative), I propose this very rhetorical question: How many Barolos have been purchased and under-appreciated? How many bottles were opened with the old 'Parker gave this a 96', only to be 'outshined' by some $25 Cab or Shiraz? Far too many, I fear and this is because of a severe lack of context.
As per the aging method, these wines taste 'old'. That may sound a bit odd, but I can't really come up with a better descriptor. Again, the bottle consumed last night had been open for better that 2.5 days. Straight away, the F.A. commented on the nose. It screamed with the metallic aromatic that I would normally associate with a better Burgundy. I know that doesn't necessarily sound all that appetizing but what the hell, that's how I read it. The metallic aromatic was tempered/balanced/outdone (depending on the amount of time in glass) by the 'rusticity' that I would normally identify with in an Italian red. I know that sounds vague, but imagine what old wood smells like or possibly an old book. Not in the musty sense, just aged. Obviously, this is influenced by its time in barrel. Finally, and towards the end of the bottle, the F.A. (at a loss for analogies) proclaimed the wine to smell like handmade chocolate truffles. Spot on. A better (and more immediately recognizeable aromatic might be that of chocolate powder (slightly sweetened). On the palate, the wine was quite interesting. It drank like a Chambertin (Burgundy) with an uber-shot of tannin. The wine did not reveal a great deal of flavor profiles. What you could dial into was there one moment and gone the next. The wine was all about subtlety. To re-iterate, this was on day three and it was drinking phenomenally. One side note, the last pour that I had (and the last of the bottle) held a great deal of tartrate crystals. I have opined in the past about the (welcome) presence of sediment and the like and this was no different. The crystals are more or less proof that (at the very least) the wine did not experience cold stabilization. It is also more than likely that the wine was not fined or filtered. This is good.
To wrap this up, I feel that most people are expecting something quite different from what they get when opening a bottle of Barolo. Referring to the price = quality ratio, $60 - $150 per bottle would lead one to think that the wine is going to knock one's socks off. (It will, just not in a way they thought) Couple that with consistently high ratings and the groundwork is laid for almost inevitable disappointment. Most people, when spending this kind of money would expect certain traits in a wine. And truth be told, a Bordeaux from 2000 or whatever 'Cult Cab' from California will deliver on at least a few of these expectations, albeit in different ways. Not so much with Barolo. To draw a somewhat random analogy, it is like spending $80,000 on a car. You could buy the uber-luxury touring sedan or you could buy an original Model T. One is designed to cruise at 95 mph and the other at about 8. In the end, it's all about motivation. While it may be cool to 'get it on down the line' at a good clip, you miss alot on the way. And while it may be a pain in the ass traveling at a snail's pace, you get to see everything in your path. The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. This is not to say that one is better than the other, just severely different.
Once more, I apologize for the long winded nature of this thing, but I told you this wine couldn't be 'sound-bit'.
1 Comments:
Of course, if the Spectator or any other reviewer devoted that much space to a review we'd all be a lot more educated on the various wines. Not to mention, we'd be buying bigger magazines.
Nevertheless, I do feel educated. Nice review!
Tom
http://fermentations.blogspot.com
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