Whine of the Month : September 2005

It should be obvious by now, that my personal mission is to strip away the pretense and de-mythologize the whole wine experience. One of the easiest and most accessible ways to learn about wine, aside from pulling corks, is through the critical writing of others. Definitely a good idea, as long as you bear in mind that most of these writers are boorish elitists who are more interested in showing you how much they know, how sophisticated their palates are, and how much access they have to wines that you will never even get close to, much less taste. Nyah, Nyah, Nyah.

There are exceptions, of course. My favorite wine columnist is long time New York Times writer, Frank Prial. From time to time his articles are collected and published in book form, and early on in my journey, he had a profound influence on my attitude towards wine. His 1978 collection called "Wine Talk" (Times Books), was a revelation. Fun, easy to read, and full of all kinds of useful information, presented in an entertaining style.

The very first piece in the book is called "The Best Bottle", a condemnation of an onerous game of one-upmanship that wine snobs seem to enjoy playing. It's an endless argument about the best bottle they've ever tasted. Mr. Prial, while acknowledging some rare and fabulous wines, admits that one of his most memorable was a jug of Almaden Mountain White Chablis, consumed in port on the deck of the Coast Guard cutter McLane in 1954 with a few of his pals.

The point is, the setting, the circumstances, and the company have an immeasurably large effect on how we perceive a particular wine. I believe that this is because wine is primarily a social beverage. It may be peculiar to me (insert joke here), but I don't enjoy drinking wine by myself. I may have the occasional beer or single malt at home, but wine is saved exclusively for sharing with good friends.

In the Los Angeles Times, there are a couple of wine columnists. One, Charles E. Olken, I really like a lot. He writes with a nice common touch and uses plain speak to bring you into the world of wine. Also, the late David Shaw was terrific.

The other one, Rod Smith, is exactly what I railed against in the first paragraph. Here's one recent description; "It's voluminous, intense and racy, all high-toned gooseberry, green pepper and alpine meadow nose with a whiff of snow on rock before coating the palate with rich, clear, snappy fruit." Puleeeeze! "Snow on rock"??!! Sheesh! I mean, it does make you want to try some, but in the preceding sentence he describes it as a "cult" wine. Which of course is wine snob code for nyah, nyah, nyah.........

In keeping with this line of reasoning, in the next section, (part of the member's area) instead of discussing the usual label kind of stuff, I'm reprinting (without permission), an article from the L.A. Times about an interesting experiment, the outcome of which is hardly unexpected.

Please let me hear from you if there's anything you'd like me to include in future installments. In the meantime, try to find some books or articles by Frank Prial and see if you find his attitude as refreshing as I do.

As always, your devoted correspondent,

Harry "Bacchus In The Saddle Again" Orlove