Wine Book Review: Discovering the Hidden Vineyards of Paris

Geoffrey Finch, The Hidden Vineyards of Paris (Board and Bench, 2023).

Urban wineries aren’t surprising anymore. It is not that difficult to truck in grapes and other supplies to make (and then sell) wine in the heart of a busy city. City wineries are not as ubiquitous as local craft breweries, but they aren’t hard to find. If you go to Paris, for example, you’ll find a winery on the first floor of the Eifel Tower.

Urban vineyards are a different matter. Cities, by their very nature, are filled up and built over, with what open land that remains after urbanization devoted to parks, playgrounds, and so forth. A vineyard? That would be a surprise.

But of course, cities have not always looked and operated as they do today. Before the advent of cheap and secure transport, for example, cities had to be much more self-sufficient than they are today. Food could not cheaply and reliably come from far away, so local sourcing was vital. This was especially true for wine in Europe because of its central place in diet, culture, and economy.

You can find remnants of the old vineyards if you look for them. In Venice, for example, the Venissa vineyard is a short vaporetto ride from St Mark’s Square. It’s a different side of Venice, serene like the city itself (La Serrenisima) once was.  Sue and I love the vineyard and the hotel and restaurant that the Bisol family has developed.

But wait … there’s more! If you know where to look in Milan you can find the evidence of Leonardo’s personal vineyard reconstructed, according to Professor Scienza, using DNA analysis. Add that to your bucket list!

I was amazed to discover that Paris was once the center of the largest vineyard area in France and the world. This makes sense, however, since the city’s large population required wine, and the local environment was well-suited to grape farming. Parisian vineyards declined slowly and then suddenly, however, due to a number of forces including especially the arrival of the train, which delivered quantities of wines that were better than the local ones (from Burgundy and Bordeaux) or much cheaper (from Langudeoc and eventually Algeria, too).

Parisian vineyards declined but did not entirely disappear. You have to look closely to find them, however, which is what Geoffrey Finch has been doing for over 40 years. His new book is a slim volume packed with insights, information, and colorful illustrations that tell the story of grapes, wine, and Paris.

Finch guides us through vineyards that are used to produce wine, vineyards that don’t yield wine but serve other purposes, and isolated vines too random to be called vineyards but that tell interesting stories. Even the largest of these vineyards is small by the standards of Bordeaux or even Burgundy, but size isn’t the point here. Rather they are a chance to encounter the history of Paris and wine and, if you are lucky, have a taste, too.

We have visited Paris several times, but have never been to Clos Montmartre, the largest vineyards and the only one with commercially available wine. There is even a community wine festival. It’s on our list for the next Paris expedition.

It would be great to visit these vineyards with Finch on one of his tours and to hear his stories in person, but reading The Hidden Vineyards of Paris must be the next best thing because of his distinct sensibility, insatiable curiosity, and obvious fascination with Parisian history. Each vineyard (or individual vine in some cases) has a history that is specific to its subject and also reflective of Paris more generally. Each is a pleasure to read and appreciate.

Taken together, the vineyards and their biographies give a rich sense of what Paris is, has been, and perhaps might be again. The Hidden Vineyards of Paris is informative, entertaining, and well-written. Highly recommended.b

Got Bacon? What Can the Wine Industry Learn from Pork’s Problems?

The outline of the Wall Street Journal story was very familiar to anyone who has followed wine industry trends in recent years. The product had a long history and was well-loved in America and around the world. But the industry itself was in crisis. Demand was down. Part of the problem was health concerns and part of it was price (its retail price was higher than the most popular substitute). Worse of all, younger consumers were turning away.

Production costs kept rising and rising, but retail prices not so much (or at all, in some cases) eating margins and leaving red ink stains on the account books where black ink profits once regularly appeared.

It all had a familiar ring, except (here’s the punch line), the story was about pork, not wine. “We’re not eating enough bacon, and that’s a problem for the economy,” the headline proclaimed.

Does misery like company? If so, I guess I now feel solidarity with pork producers. Or is it a case of miserable company? I don’t know. But I decided to dive into the article, looking for lessons from the pork crisis.

Lesson One: Re-Education is Difficult.

Wine has a health problem. Moderate wine consumption can be part of a healthy diet (the French Paradox effect), but alcohol itself has many detrimental effects. If you define wine by its alcoholic content, then that’s a problem for health-conscious consumers, who are increasingly drawn to no- and low-alcohol wine (and to the not-wine alternative, too). A challenge for the wine industry is to tell a positive story in the face of the negative anti-alcohol headwinds.

Once upon a time, pork had serious health issues, too. Pork was fatty, which discouraged health-conscious consumers, and needed to be very thoroughly cooked (165-170 degrees) to avoid the disease trichinosis. Changes in production methods over the years have created a healthier product, which is leaner and safer to eat without over-cooking. Pork has become so lean that foodies now seek out fattier heritage breeds with more flavor.

The facts about pork have changed, but consumer attitudes have not changed with them. It isn’t easy to re-educate consumers once the conventional wisdom has been established. It will be hard for wine to change the narrative, too.

Lesson Two: The Perils of Generic Marketing

What would a generic marketing campaign for wine look like? I don’t know (I’m not sure “Got Wine?” would do the trick), but a lesson that we can learn from the pork industry is to be careful what you say and how you say it.

“Pork, the other white meat” was a popular ad campaign that raised awareness of pork products and created an opportunity to establish pork as an alternative to low-fat chicken.  The good news is that it might well have prevented a steep decline in pork consumption in the past.

But, the WSJ article reports, the campaign seems to have backfired in the current environment because, if you compare pork to chicken, the chicken is likely to be cheaper — and that matters a lot.

The WSJ article quotes one stakeholder who suggests maybe they should have tried to position pork as a cheaper alternative to beef rather than the new chicken. But, as the graph shows, beef consumption is falling, so maybe that’s not the optimal strategy. The current campaign is “real pork makes a real difference.” Really? Is the goal to lure people away from fake pork? Or is it to discourage chefs from using chicken instead of pork in traditional recipes? Not sure.

Wine needs to take the pork experience into account and remember that wine is more expensive on a per-serving basis than beer or spirits (on average) and a moderate wine consumption message, even if effective, can’t change that.

Lesson Three: Innovation

I was especially interested in the WSJ’s report on how pork producers are innovating to try to stimulate demand. Innovate? How can you innovate something as basic as bacon or a pork chop?

As noted above, some farmers are going back to the future by re-introducing heritage pig varieties that have more fat and flavor than the lean pork products that have taken over the market in recent years. Foodies will look for (and pay for) heritage breeds.

Bacon is a favorite pork product and there are lots of different styles in the supermarket meat case. Smithfield is innovating by making bacon that is more convenient to use, needing just 10 minutes in the oven to crisp up rather than the usual 20 because of special processing before packing. Quick bacon.

My favorite innovation idea (I like the idea, but I haven’t tried the product yet) is Tyson Food’s “pork griller steak.” This is a new cut of pork that Tyson seasons and marinates. It is designed to be flavorful and easy to cook. You can grill it, broil it, pan fry it, or even cook it in an air-fryer so long as you stop cooking when the internal temperature reaches 145 degrees. Note that the recommended temp is well below the old cooking standard for pork, producing a result that is more tender and juicy.

The Folly of Complacency

Some people may be uncomfortable with this wave of innovation in the pork business, but it seems to me that change is nothing new for bacon, ham, and chops. A lot of new ideas will need to be tried to discover the ones that make a difference.

The same is true in the wine business. As a traditionalist, I am not always persuaded by the new wine ideas I see on the shelves. But, as I said recently in a public radio interview with reporter Tina Caputo, “If we simply make the same wine, packaging it the same way, sell it with the same message, we will get the same result.”

Wine, Globalization, and the End of History

I have been thinking a lot recently about how much things have changed since the 1990s and what the future might look like in this light. The event that has provoked this unexpected thoughtfulness is the upcoming Unified Wine & Grape Symposium, which will be the 30th edition of what has become North America’s largest wine industry gathering.

A Golden Age?

Looking back at the program for the first Unified, it is clear that the American wine industry was worried about the future. It must have seemed like obstacles and headwinds were all around. Problems in the vineyards. Rising foreign competition. And concerns about both government regulation and uncertain consumer demand. One session was titled “Who Isn’t Drinking Wine and Why.” That’s a question we are asking again today.

Looking back it is easy to appreciate these concerns (because they never really go away). What folks back then didn’t realize, however, is that they were in some ways at the start of a wine industry golden age. Baby boomers were entering peak wine-buying years. The economy was growing, fueling the rising interest in wine. The “French paradox” infused popular culture with the idea that wine (especially red wine) was actually good for you because of its role in the healthful Mediterranean diet. Wine made you feel good, it was good for you, and you could afford to drink it. What could be better?

Things have changed a lot since the 1990s and some of those changes contribute to the challenges that the industry confronts today (and that we will strive to address at Unified 2024).

The Globalization Effect

This makes me think about other ways the world (and the wine world) have changed over these 30 years. Globalization was gaining speed in the 1990s, for example. It was controversial (think NAFTA debates and the Seattle WTO meeting riots), but eventually (when China joined the WTO, for example) it was seen by many as an inevitable tide, an irresistible force.

No one thinks globalization is inevitable anymore. The Global Financial Crisis made investors aware of the risks of international market contagion. The supply-chain disruptions of the COVID era made “nearshoring” an awkward but understandable concept. And now political tensions and uncertainties have driven “friendshoring” trends.

Economic globalization hasn’t collapsed. But it is different. Globalization was a powerful force in wine in the 1990s, too, as patterns of production and consumption around the world shifted and international wine trade volumes rose. They kept rising, too, as the graph above (taken from the most recent OIV global wine report) shows, until about 15 years ago, when the volume of wine exchanged across borders reached a plateau. (Click here for a pdf of the OIV report).

The value of the international wine trade has continued to rise, as the graph below shows, due to the general premiumization trend. The pattern of global wine trade has changed, too, both in terms of shipping patterns (think the sharp Australia-China shifts) and the commodity composition of shipments (packaged goods versus bulk wine, for example).

The End of History Effect

One of the forces that powered economic globalization was the collapse of Communism, which opened up a world of trading and investment opportunities. We called it “The End of History” after the famous book by Francis Fukuyama. History was ideological conflict, Fukuyama argued, which was all over. The liberal order was the only story left to tell.

Wine had its own “End of History” in the 1990s, although it understandably got less attention. The history of wine was defined, more or less, by Old World notions of appellations and terroir. Burgundy was Burgundy and Pinot Noir made anywhere else wasn’t the same. Ditto for Bordeaux and Cabernet Sauvignon.  New World producers might purloin Old World titles to market their wines (remember Gallo Hearty Burgundy?), but no one was fooled.

Jancis Robinson’s 1995 BBC television wine series was an important part of the movement to rewrite wine history. She didn’t organize her tour of world wine as you might expect — Burgundy, Bordeaux, the Rhone, the Loire. She sorted things by grape variety — Pinot Noir, Cabernet, Syrah/Shiraz, Sauvignon Blanc — and featured New World wines and producers alongside familiar Old World names.

Not everyone was convinced that the new history was valid. My favorite scene was where Robinson poured a glass of New World Pinot Noir and asked a famous Burgundy producer what she thought. The winemaker scowled at her glass and proclaimed that Oregon shouldn’t make something like this. They should find their own terroir, she said, invoking that mystical French phrase almost like a curse. Oregon on the same stage as Burgundy? It’s like the end of history. What next?

However, the curse was cast in the opposite direction. Not for the most famous names of Burgundy and Bordeaux, but for producers with less well-known names from less-recognized appellations. The fact that they were defined by their place turned out to be a disadvantage in the global wine world where grape variety was the new lingua franca. ( I am smiling at the irony of this phrase even as I type it.)

The baby boomer consumers that everyone was chasing didn’t grow up understanding appellations, but they rather quickly came to understand grape variety and to define their wine world that way. Thus the wines of emerging global powers New Zealand and Argentina became known for their signature grape varieties more than the particular regions that grew them. No one asked if France or Italy had a signature grape variety (a good thing, because they obviously don’t). But other regions asked the question themselves and decided that the lack of a grape of their own was all that was holding them back.

The End of History in terms of ideological conflict hasn’t exactly worked out. Old divisions have reemerged and new ones have arisen. There is plenty of conflict to go around and history endures.

History has returned to the wine world, too. Wine defined by grape variety was the great leveler and helped open up the world to wine. But today, with the market at a plateau, product differentiation is the name of the game, and claiming terroir is one strategy. AVAs are popping up all over in response.

Golden Age Worries

The golden age of the 1990s didn’t last for wine, but that’s how golden ages work. What’s interesting is that the golden age was already upon us before we realized it (and ended before we knew it, too).

I wonder what’s ahead for wine? My friend Kenneth Boulding used to say that history doesn’t repeat itself, but sometimes it stutters. Something to think about! Another golden age? Hard to see how the stars could align to make that happen. But I don’t think many people saw that golden age on the horizon either.

Fiasco Flashbacks? Rediscovering Chianti Classico

It is called a fiasco.

Fiasco? Yes, I know what you are thinking, but you’re wrong. I’m not talking about what happening in Congress with the debt ceiling. And I am not talking about the bonehead moves your favorite sports team’s coach always seems to make.

A fiasco is a type of bottle. It is bulb-shaped and wrapped in straw that both protects the glass from breakage and keeps the rounded-bottom vessel from tipping over. Back in the day, if you spotted a fiasco you knew instantly what was inside: a tasty medium-bodied Italian wine that probably wouldn’t break the bank when you hit the check-out counter.

Fiasco meant Chianti, which along with Lambrusco and Valpolicella, was the easily recognizable popular face of Italian red wine here in the U.S. The Chianti fiasco was popular with me and my young friends years ago because you got the wine itself and a decorative candle holder (the straw-wrapped bottle) all for the same price. What could be better? The traditional Chianti fiasco still exists, although I don’t see them very often (you can buy empty bottles on eBay if you are into retro decorating).

Sue and I discovered a 1.5-liter fiasco of “red Chianti wine” at Trader Joe’s as this column was being prepared for publication. The fiasco endures!

Chianti Identity Crisis?

I suppose that the move away from the distinctive fiasco was a bit of an identity crisis for Chianti, but it might not have been the only or most important one as Bill Nesto MW and Frances Di Savino explained in their 2016 book  Chianti Classico: The Search for Tuscany’s Noblest Wine.

Nesto and Di Savino argue that Chianti’s historical roots are in a relatively well-defined area that we now associate with Chianti Classico. As Chianti wine became more popular around the world, the Chianti zone expanded and the wine inevitably lost of some its distinctive character. Not all of it represented the original idea of Chianti very well. That’s a more serious identity crisis, especially at a time when there is more and more competition from within Tuscany, within Italy, and around the world.

Product Differentiation

The task for Chianti Classico producers, as it is for quality producers everywhere, is what economists call product differentiation. They need to make consumers aware of the difference between Chianti and Chianti Classico and then, because this is the age of premiumization, to further differentiate the best wines they produce.

The first task – Chianti versus Chianti Classico — is easy from a visual standpoint. Chianti Classico stands out on the shelf with its distinctive black rooster logo. But the wine needs to be distinctive in the glass, too, which has not been as clear in the past when both Chianti and Chianti Classico could be found with quality that varied from excellent down to just fair.

Climbing the Cecchi Chianti Classico Pyramid

The Cecchi family of wine producers invited us to sample their wines and taste the difference and it was an eye-opening experience. The Cecchi winery dates to 1893. Andrea Cecchi, who guided our tasting, is the fourth generation of the family in the business. The family’s home vineyard is Villa Cerna, which they acquired in 1962. The Villa Rosa vineyard was acquired in 2015. Both are complex mosaics of elevation, soil type, and aspect.

We started with their Chianti Classico Storia di Famiglia, which makes up about 60 percent of Chianti Classico production. It is made from 90 percent Sangiovese and 10 percent other grape varieties. Sue took one sip and said “Wow!” This wasn’t like any other Chianti that she tasted recently, she said. Bright, intense, and persistent in the glass. She was immediately taken by the wine’s style and substance. Product differentiation goal #1? Check!

We moved on to Cecchi’s Chianti Classico Riserva wine, Riserva di Famiglia, which is 90 percent Sangiovese and 10 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. Riserva wines are about 35 percent of production. Sue appreciated this wine but didn’t find it as exciting as the first, perhaps because the Riserva might be an attempt to balance the traditional wine identity with the power that the international market sometimes prefers. An excellent wine. And I think Sue’s reaction might have been different if she had tasted it first.

We reached the top of the pyramid with Valore di Famiglia, the Cecchi Chianti Classico Gran Selection wine. Gran Selection accounts for just 5 percent of production. The grapes are 100 percent old-vine Sangiovese from the Villa Rosa vineyard. The wine ages in both oak and concrete. The goal is elegance, limiting intervention so that the identity of the vineyards is not obscured. Goal achieved! A wine of many layers and nuances. Memorable.

Is Chianti Classico a Terroir Wine?

The premise of Chianti Classico is that terroir makes a difference. If it doesn’t, then wines from the larger Chianti appellation (and indeed wines from all over Tuscany) that are made in the same way with the same basic grape varieties should be just as good.

To test the terroir hypothesis we were invited to compare two of the Cecchi Chianti Classico wines that are sourced from two very different vineyard sites.  Primocelle (first hill) Villa Cerna is a particular part of the Villa Cerna vineyard while the Ribaldoni Villa Rosa is from a vineyard of that name with the youngest vines on the estate. The differences showed themselves clearly both on the nose and in the mouth. I enjoyed the violet and iris notes of the Primocolle. Sue was attracted to the elegance and sleek style of the Ribaldoni.

Rediscovering Chianti Classico

Sue says that she enjoyed all the Chianti Classico wines we have tasted recently (and looks forward to a couple of others we have in reserve). Excellent wines are all very different from one another. But she couldn’t forget that first glass of the Cecchi Storia di Famiglia. The purity and clarity stood out. And the surprise punctuated the experience.

I think that we are not the only ones to be rediscovering Chianti Classico. I see that there are seven Chianti Classico wines (including Sue’s favorite from Cecchi) on this year’s Wine Spectator Top 100 list. That’s a strong showing for what is a relatively small region. Congratulations to Cecchi and the other producers for this timely recognition.

Unified Symposium XXX: Back to the Future for the Super Bowl of Wine Industry Meetings

As harvest 2023 draws to a close, many of us are gearing up for the 2024 edition of the Unified Wine & Grape Symposium in Sacramento on January 23-25, 2024. The Unified is sort of the Super Bowl of North American wine industry events, so I’ve decided to follow Super Bowl practice and call this Unified XXX.

A lot has changed in the economy and the wine business since the first Unified Symposium was convened. The 1990s were a very different time. This was the era of “The End of History” as the collapse of Communism was said to close the era of ideological conflict and open a world of rising liberal democracy.

Surfing the Global Wave

The economy was expanding and markets were becoming more open and more global. Although Ross Perot claimed to hear a “giant sucking sound” of jobs being pulled to Mexico by the new NAFTA agreement, economic growth was remarkably robust. I recall that interest in university economics studies declined because there didn’t seem to be any big economic problems to solve.

As the 1990s moved ahead, the budget deficit in the United States shrank and then eventually actually achieved a surplus! The budget deficit for the last fiscal year was more than $1.5 trillion. What a difference!

The wine world was changing very rapidly in the 1990s, too. Wine surfed the globalization wave much to the benefit of Southern Hemisphere producers. This was the time when Australia, New Zealand, Argentina, and Chile wines became more widely available in the U.S. market, for example.

Wine’s Golden Age?

The U.S. wine market was growing and a Wine Business Monthly article published at the end of the decade provides useful context. “Demographic and Macroeconomic Factors Fueling Increased Wine Consumption” by research analyst Kristine Koerber identified four forces driving American wine: demographic trends, moderate wine consumption’s image as heart-healthy (think “60 Minutes” and the French Paradox story), rising wealth among consumers, and a successful generic marketing campaign (think Got Milk? but for wine).

Koerber concluded her report by saying, “We expect favorable trends to persist. The aging of the baby boomer will be the key demographic trend providing robust growth for the wine industry in the coming years. This demographic group has more disposable income and is reaching its peak spending years at 46.5 years of age, which should further facilitate the consumption of premium wines. High-quality wines with strong brand recognition such as Beringer and Mondavi are positioned to benefit from the growing premium wine market.”

Changing Times

An insightful forecast! But the situation today is pretty much the mirror image of that report. Demographic trends are widely seen to work against wine and alcoholic beverages generally today. Some consumers are wealthier but don’t necessarily feel that way because of pressure from inflation, rising interest rates, higher housing costs, and other factors such as student loan obligations.

Wine was the healthful choice in the 1990s but that tide has turned, too, with anti-alcohol initiatives gaining steam.  The wine industry’s response has been muted, creating what I call in my recent book Wine Wars II the wine identity crisis. Wine has a positive case, but consumers seem to have trouble hearing it.

Which brings me back to Unified XXX. The Unified Wine & Grape Symposium has become the place where the American wine industry comes together to think about, talk about, and form strategies regarding the challenges and opportunities of the day. (A lot of relationships are strengthened and business takes place on and off the trade show floor, too).

Unified I in Perspective

Now flash back to Unified I. That first event drew about 500 participants to the symposium sessions and to visit the 20 exhibitor tables (too small to call a trade show back then). Five hundred wine industry players is a lot and that attendance would be impressive for most meetings today. But Unified XXIX (the 2023 edition) was a lot bigger. About 12,000 people attended over three days, harvesting insights from the 96 speakers and doing business with the 879 exhibitors at the trade show. Unified XXX is on course to be bigger yet.

I have been involved with the Unified since 2012, mainly as moderator and/or speaker at the Wednesday morning State of the Industry session, the largest gathering of a three-day event. So I was interested to see what the equivalent program looked like at Unified I.

Jon Fredrikson was the lead-off speaker, giving a half-hour survey of market conditions. Knowing Jon, I’ll bet it was jam-packed with data and insights and that the audience hung on every word. Jon went on to be a featured speaker at almost every Unified meeting for the next 25 years until his retirement.

Jon’s lead-off presentation was followed by a teleconference that brought the voices of wine retailers into the room. This was not an easy thing to do in the landline era of the 1990s. Everyone wanted to know as much as they could about who was buying wine, who was selling it, and how the market looked for the future.

Globalization was obviously on everyone’s mind, too, as the next three sessions made clear, with a session on international trade effects, global perspectives, and how efforts to drain Europe’s wine lake might affect the American industry.

The Unified XXX State of the Industry lineup shows how the program has evolved to even more directly address the concerns of its wine industry audience.  Jeff Bitter and Danny Brager take deep dives into the trends and issues on the grower and consumer sides of the wine market respectively and Steve Fredricks analyzes the markets that connect them and the global market environment in which everything takes place. Susana Garcia Dolla, Director General of the Interprofesional del Vino de España, will provide an important international perspective, helping us understand how Spain’s wine sector has weathered the wine world’s storms and what lessons can be learned from their experience.

But Wait, There’s More!

There was a lot more going on at that first Unified meeting, of course. I am particularly struck by sessions titled “Monsters in the Closet: Major Issues Impacting Growers & Vintners” and “Government Landmines & Opportunities.” Monsters and landmines? Sounds like wine was a dangerous place! John Gillespie and Mike Boyd spoke on “Who’s Not Drinking Wine and Why?” — a question we are still asking today.

Unified XXX will feature a vast array of sessions (here is the complete schedule) that examine important issues in virtually every aspect of wine growing, production, distribution, regulation, and sales. Several sessions are offered in Spanish. It is quite a multi-discipline University of Wine.

A special treat this year is the Tuesday Keynote Luncheon. Karen Ross, Secretary of the California Department of Food and Agriculture, will be the featured speaker. Secretary Ross was President of the California Association of Wine Growers before taking her current job and in that role was instrumental in expanding the Unified into the impressive event it is today.

I am looking forward to hearing what Secretary Ross has to say about how the wine industry has adapted (and must continue to adapt) to the monsters and landmines that lurk around the corner. And to see everyone and learn as much as I can at Unified XXX.

Book Reviews: Wine Fraud, Klein Constantia, & Food Adventurers

Brief reviews of three new books that curious wine enthusiasts should consider.

Rebecca Gibb, Vintage Crime: A Short History of Wine Fraud (University of California Press). Reviewed by Sue Veseth.

As long as there had been wine, there has been fraud.  If there is money to be made, someone will figure out how to make it — and then how to make a little more, legitimately or not. Or, as Rebecca Gibb, MW, writes, “A splash of narcissism blended with greed makes for a toxic combination.” Gibb engagingly covers centuries of narcissism, greed, and wine fraud from ancient Greece and Rome to recent history, and efforts to root out and address fraud at all levels of the chain.

Gibb’s writing style reminded me in some ways of the style of another author and journalist I admire: Sarah Vowell. Gibb’s writing is light, breezy, and full of interesting content with contemporary references.

I started noting particular phrases from Gibb’s book that tickled me: a reference to Thomas Jefferson’s “inner wine nerd,” for example, and, in discussing Jefferson’s efforts to recover from a broken wrist, “… so he decided to do what we would all do when we are in pain: cross the Alps on the back of  a mule.” Another treat: using Bart Simpson to tell the story of Austria’s mid-1980s scandal involving diethylene glycol added to wine.

Make no mistake, however: behind the writing style is serious research, scholarship, and analysis. She digs into the numbers, sequences of events, historical context, and principal players. The chapter on the 1911 riots in Champagne — the subject of Gibb’s MW thesis —is particularly deep and wide.

No doubt, people will continue to commit wine crimes, likely with new technological tools, such as artificial intelligence. But, in the end, it all seems to come down to greed. The lesson from the 1983 movie Scarface may apply, as the character Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia) said, “Lesson  number one: don’t underestimate the other guy’s greed.”

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Joanne Gibson and Malu Lambert, Klein Constantia: The Home of Vin de Constance. (First Press Editions, distributed by Academie du Vin Library). Reviewed by Mike Veseth.

Wine is good, but wine and a story is better, so wineries everywhere love to tell their stories, often in the form of lavishly illustrated books. Sue and I have a love-hate relationship with winery books. We love to read them and look at the beautiful illustrations, but when we are on the road we fear that our winery hosts will give us copies of their books, which are typically large format, heavy from the glossy stock they are printed on, and nearly impossible to pack.

This new book about South Africa’s most famous winery conveniently arrived in the mail from the Academie du Vin Libaray and we were very happy to receive it. It is beautiful, of course, and tells this winery’s fascinating story with panache. Joanne Gibson focuses on the winery’s rich history while co-author Malu Lambert brings things up-to-date, showing the winery’s recent transformation into both a world-class producer and a wine tourism destination. A final chapter provided by the winery itself looks at the road ahead.

In a way Klein Constantia has grown into the reputation that its wines first established in the 17th century and that persisted through centuries. Once upon a time this signature wine was held in great esteem as one of the most desired wines in the world (and priced accordingly). The Constantia name rings in literature to signify opoulence, taste, luxury.

But, like South African wine in general, Klein Constania suffered from deep decline before rising again in the last 30 years. I was especially pleased to see the contributions of Duggie Jooste, who essentially resserected the winery and put it on the path back to prominence, and viticulturalist Ernst le Roux and winemaker Ross Gower who worked so closely with him. I had the pleasure of meeting Duggie’s son Lowell Jooste and Adam Mason, the winemaker who continued Gower’s work, on my first visit to South Africa. Both are prominently mentioned here.

Duggie Jooste and his team are the heroes of this fascinating story of rise, fall, and eventual rebirth spanning more than three centuries. Eventually the Jooste family realized they lacked the capital to take the winery to the next level and sold to the current owners, who have indeed taken that step and given us a wine, a place, and now this beautiful book that warmly honors its unique history.

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Daniel E Bender, The Food Adventurers: How around-the-world travel changed the way we eat (Reaktion Books).  Reviewed by Mike Veseth.

I am pre-disposed to like books that take a global perspective (I guess that’s why I wrote Around the World in 80 Wines!) and I enjoy thinking outside the box, and trying to learn about wine by studying related fields.

So I could not resist Daniel E. Bender’s new book that looks at how around-the-world travel (think Jules Verne) changed the way we think about food. If travel could change food, maybe it could change wine? I was curious to start the adventure.

At first glance, the story is a bit discouraging. You want to hear that, if travel is broadening, then global travel is positively enlightening. But many of the early tourist circumnavigators, whether traveling over land or by ship, seem to become more parochial as the miles accumulate. Foreign food? Disgusting and sometimes even dangerous (don’t drink the water).

There are exceptions to the general rule that global travel tends to reinforce local prejudices about food in these pages. Ristafel, the Dutch-Indonesian colonial feast, always got high marks from travellers, we learn, although more for the elaborate service than for the food itself. And, zooming ahead to the jet age, the fake Polynesian experience of Trader Vic’s restaurants in Hilton hotel around the worlds was both ridiculous and ridiculously popular.  Both the ristafel and Trader Vic’s get full-chapter treatment.

Travel and exposure to foreign food, according to the accounts that form the base of Bender’s book, both open minds and palates and shut them tightly closed, which nicely illustrates Thomas Friedman’s theory that globalization is “everything and its opposite.”

Bender focuses on how these global tourists encounter foreign food, but wine appears frequently in the travel accounts. Not foreign wine, but the familiar European wines (and spirits) that the travelers brought with them. Indeed, alcohol seems to have fueled the commercial around-the-world travel industry. The Franconia, a tourist steamer with 356 passengers, typically left home port with 4000 bottles of whiskey, 4000 bottles of wine, 2800 bottles of Champagne, and 49,000 bottles of beer to be consumed during the circumnavigation.

I suppose the Franconia’s passengers were as suspicious of foreign drinks as they were of the disgusting, dangerous foods they encountered. No wonder they hurried back on board the ship each evening to eat and drink the familiar foods of home (as many cruise ship passengers do today!).

My reading of Bender’s book is that travel hasn’t made as much of a difference in food and drink as I might have hoped. Perhaps travel is too much of a surface phenomenon in most cases? Maybe migration is the more significant source of change?

It seems that the spread of food and wine cultures depends on personal experiences and relationships; the deeper those connections, the more significant the effects. Worth reflecting upon this as you contemplate your next foreign adventure.

Bolgheri and the Native vs Traditional Grape Variety Debate

There are hundreds of native grape varietals around the world. Italy has enough for Ian D’Agata to fill two substantial volumes:  Italy’s Native Wine Grape Terroirs and Native Wine Grapes of Italy.  Sometimes I think you could spend a lifetime enjoying just Italy’s native grape wines and never reach the end of the list.

Native grape varieties are almost everywhere threatened by invaders. “International” grape varieties such as Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Sauvignon Blanc, are thought to be easier to sell than native varieties with unfamiliar names. We tend to side with the underdogs in this fight, favoring native varieties that might otherwise fade from the scene. What a loss!

But that doesn’t mean that native grapes are the end of the story. Even in Friuli, home to so many indigenous grapes, there is a third category that are often called “traditional” grape varieties, such as Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Franc, which make excellent and even distinctive wines and have been planted locally for decades. Not native, to be sure, but no longer foreign, either.

Should we favor the native grape varieties because many of them are found only in a single place? Or is that unfair to the traditional grape varieties, which may have been planted locally for generations?

(I think I remember reading that there are a few wine regions in Europe where French-American hybrid grapes, which were introduced more than 100 years ago during the Phylloxera plague, are considered part of the traditional wine culture.)

A Waste of Time?

The native versus traditional grape variety question flared up a few months ago when Sue and I met up with a press group near Lake Garda in Northern Italy. All was quiet when we visited Lugana DOC wineries. Their distinctive wines were all made from Turbiana, a local variant of the native Trebbiano grape. But then we stopped at a couple of wineries in the Garda DOC, where several traditional “international” grape varieties are approved, and things changed a bit.

“This is a waste of time,” a journalist from Northern Europe proclaimed as he stared into his glass, which contained a very nice Chardonnay. My readers don’t care about Italian Chardonnay, he said, they only want to know about what is unique to this place, the native grapes.

I didn’t think it was a waste of time because learning about nice wines is almost always a good thing, but I admit I sometimes fall into a less extreme variant of this point of view, favoring native over traditional or international much of the time. But his strong reaction made me think. The vines for this wine had been planted by the winemaker’s grandfather and had helped support three generations of his family.  That seems pretty well rooted in terroir, don’t you think?

Bordeaux in Bolgheri

I am reconsidering this question right now because Sue and I have been sampling some red wines from Bolgheri. Bolgheri is located on the Tuscan coast in the under-appreciated Maremma region. The wines are the San Felice Bell’Aja Bolgheri Superiore and Podere Sapaio Volpolo Bolgheri. Coming from Tuscany, you would imagine red wines to be Sangiovese or even a “super Tuscan” Sangiovese blend.  But the Bell’Aja is 95 percent Merlot and 5 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. The Volpolo is 70 percent Cabernet Sauvignon and 15 percent each Petit Verdot and Merlot.

The wines were very different from each other (just look at the blends!) but the threads that connected them were intensity and elegance from bright acidity. If you are not familiar with Bolgheri wines, these blends will come as a surprise. How did this happen? And what should we make of them? (I won’t ask what my European journalist friend would have said!)

Bordeaux grape varieties came to the Maremma region on the Tuscan coast in the 1930s, according to Joe Bastianich’s account in his book Grandi Vini. That was about the same time that the swamps and marshes thereabouts were drained to fight malaria. Marchese Mario Incisa della Rocchetta saw similarities with Graves in Bordeaux in terms of maritime climactic influence and rocky soil, so a small amount of Cabernet was planted. The wines were meant for family and friends only, but word spread about a unique wine from a vineyard called Sassicia.

The family finally offered a small amount of the wine for sale in 1968 and Sassicia proclaimed the first “Super Tuscan,” which took the world by storm, inspiring winemakers in Tuscany and beyond to both raise standards and experiment with exciting new blends.

What is Tradition?

Sassicia was designated a simple vino da tavola because no appellation existed in Maremma for a wine with Bordeaux grape varieties. Indeed, when a Bolgheri DOC was first established in 1983 it designated white and rosé wines only. Red wines remained vino da tavola until 1994 when the DOC was amended to accommodate the sort of wines that define it today.

Bolgheri and its Bordeaux-blend wines are famous today and the best of them are treasured and collected.  I am not sure anyone would tell Bolgheri producers that it was a mistake to embrace Cabernet when the native Sangiovese was available.

Obviously, these wines don’t rely upon native grapes, but would you call Cabernet and Merlot “traditional” grape varieties here, or is it too soon? The first wines were planted about 90 years ago, the first commercial wines were made a little over 50 years ago, and a DOC was enacted for them less than 30 years ago. Italy is a land of long tradition. Bolgheri is young by comparison. Bolgheri’s timeline in this regard is more New World than Old World.

Perhaps, as Hobsbawm argued, tradition isn’t something that exists on its own. Maybe it is something we create to suit our needs.

Global Wine Glut: The Return of Crisis Distillation

Crisis distillation is back in the news. For those unfamiliar with this wine business term, crisis distillation refers to government programs that buy surplus wine and distill it into industrial alcohol. The point isn’t to increase industrial alcohol supplies but to support prices and incomes in the wine sector by taking excess supply off the market.

Crisis distillation has a long history in the European Union. You might remember that some countries authorized crisis distillation just a few years ago during the COVID-19 pandemic. Public health restrictions hit on-trade wine very hard in some places where producers rely heavily on bar and restaurant sales (a more significant factor in Europe than here in the U.S.). The crisis was short-lived, but distillation was a significant factor while it lasted.

Distillation was a persistent feature twenty years ago, however. EU price support programs encouraged the production of low-quality wines that were poorly suited to highly competitive market conditions. Distillation programs bought the surplus wine that resulted. It was an expensive way to stabilize wine-grower income and, for a while at least, it seemed like it would go on forever, getting more and more costly each year.

It was reported at the time that Britain’s Prince (now King) Charles had his Aston Martin configured to run on a grape alcohol-rich fuel blend. Plonk power! I wonder what other uses they found for the enormous quantity of distilled wine that was produced?

The distillation policy was changing when The Wine Economist first appeared back in 2007. I have inserted a column below that was first posted on Christmas Eve of that year, which I think you might find useful to read for perspective on the current situation. The combination of supply adjustment and demand-based policy reforms did in fact address the critical issues and crisis distillation slowly disappeared from the wine business lexicon.

Distillation is back, but things are very different today. This wine glut today is caused more by stagnant and falling demand than by high supply, for example. And the quality issue is different, too. Back in the 2000s, the issue was poor quality wines that were hard to sell at any price. As you can read below, one part of the solution was an effort to eliminate these wines and raise quality and marketability. These efforts (magnified by the market premiumization trend) have been relatively successful. Now Sue and I routinely encounter excellent wines from regions that only a short while ago were better known for plonk.

What was important about the policies I discussed back in 2007 was that they addressed the causes of the problems that the EU wine industry faced. Crisis distillation today treats the impact of today’s issues in terms of surplus wine, but the causes (and therefore, I suppose, the cures) have not yet been directly addressed.

Distillation buys time. Spend it wisely. Here’s that 2007 column.

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Draining Europe’s Wine Lake

Wine Economist / December 24, 2007

Europe is afloat in a sea of bad wine and the European Union agriculture ministers agreed last week to do something about it. But is it too little and too late?

Marian Fischer Boel, the EU Agriculture Minister, proposed a number of fairly radical reforms in 2006 and these were the basis of the discussion. She wanted an immediate end to distillation subsidies and a vast program to encourage small winegrowers to pull up their vines — one million acres — replacing them with other crops or, in some cases, with more marketable grape varieties. Perhaps predictably, the policies agreed last week are much weaker than the original proposals. Distillation subsidies will be phased out over five years and as many as 400,000 acres of vines will be “grubbed up.” Four hundred thousand acres seems like a lot, but given the size of the problem is it, as Wine Spectator reported, just “a good start?”

Current EU policies are as useless as the old wine barrels shown above. At the top end of the market, national and EU policies tend to stifle innovation and prevent effective market adjustment (the counter argument is that they preserve tradition and prevent destructive commercialization). I have read any number of stories about high end European winemakers who have expanded abroad in part to escape regulations on what they can produce, where, and how they can market it.

In the mid-market, where current attention is focused, EU and national regulations seem to prevent winemakers from achieving the transparency that an increasing global market requires. It is hard enough to know what’s in a bottle of wine without the complicated rules that government European wine labeling. French wines are typically “branded” by place of origin, not grape varietal, for example. Buyers who are not confident about their French geographical knowledge and the relationship between place, grape variety and wine style, are likely to choose New World wines with more easily understood characteristics. Australian wines sell well in France partly for this reason.

At the low end of the market, EU policies designed to support farm incomes have produced the famous “wine lake.” Each year the EU spends about $2 billion to buy up unsold wines and turn them into industrial alcohol. This vast reliable market for poor quality wine keeps thousands of small scale producers in business. The distillation subsidy insulates low-end producers from market forces with the result that the vineyards remain uneconomically small, the practices favor quantity over quality, and the wine, while it may reflect local tradition, finds few buyers in the marketplace. Cheap New World wine is preferred to bad Old World plonk.

The new EU policies are designed to drain the wine lake by making the wine sector more responsive to market forces. Label laws and regulations will be reformed so that European wines can be sold by regional and grape varietal just like New World wines. The distillation subsidy will be phased out over four years, with some of the subsidy funds returned to regional groups to be used in wine marketing and promotion efforts. And up to 400,000 acres of vineyards will be included in the new “vine-pull scheme.” New plantings will be allowed over time, but they will be market-driven not subsidy-driven.

The top end of the market is unlikely to be affected very much by these policies, since by definition they already have established brands and distribution channels. New label laws and subsidy reductions will have few direct effects on these producers, although they may be able to gain indirectly as vineyard consolidation takes place and Australian-style brands grow in importance. I predict that the most visible early effect of the new rules will be expansion of European brands both at home and in export markets.

The clear gainers are the mid-market producers — the wines that sell for about $12. There is great potential profit in this part of the market, which is expanding rapidly in the New World. Freed from the constraints of tradition, European winemakers should be able to compete in this market quite well. It is, however, a hotly contested market segment. European producers will need to use their new freedom well to succeed and those who choose not to adjust may suffer as the European market realigns itself.

The real problem is at the bottom of the market. Losing the distillation subsidies will hurt many producers and I don’t know how enough about the cost-benefit of the vine-pulling schemes to comment. Pulling 400,000 acres out of wine production should help stabilize the market by reducing the annual surplus, but I don’t know if it is enough and I don’t know if the incentives provided are strong enough.

Four hundred thousand acres — how big is that? Huge if you are thinking New World — Australia had just 388,000 acres of vineyards altogether in 2003 according to my Oxford Companion. But tiny if you think Old World — and of course this is an Old World problem. Italy and France had more than 2 million acres of vines each in 2003. (The Languedoc region in the south of France has 528,000 acres by itself.) Taking 400,000 acres out of production in Europe is like removing Moldova and Switzerland from the market. The effect on the regions where the vines are grubbed up will be large, but the impact on the global market is likely to be quite small — reducing the global surplus, but not eliminating it. I don’t know if it will be enough.

Will it work? Much of the discussion that I have read focuses on the size of the vine-pull scheme — 400,000 acres versus the million acres that Marian Fischer Boel proposed two years ago. Although I think the size of the grubbing up program is important, I believe that the market-driven reforms and the elimination of distillation subsidies are more important. The 1988 vine-pull scheme took over a million acres out of production but, as we see today, didn’t eliminate the surplus because of the difficulty of selling the good wines and the incentives to keep make bad ones.

America’s Wine Regions: Surprising Michigan

Sue and I have spent the last two weeks tasting wines from two Michigan wineries, Good Harbor Vineyards and Aurora Cellars (both part of the Simpson Family Estates group). The wineries are located on the Leelanau Peninsula, a short drive from scenic Traverse City.

Michigan wines? Are you surprised? We discovered Michigan wine several years ago at an industry event called Riesling Rendezvous, organized by Ste Michelle Wines Estates, which was a regular stop on top world Riesling producer itineraries in the days before the covid pandemic.

The Riesling Belt

Riesling Rendezvous brought together the makers and their wines from all around the world and it helped teach us that here in North America, there is a northern Riesling belt that runs from Washington state (the Columbia Valley) and British Columbia (Okanagan Valley)  to Idaho (Snake River Valley), Michigan (Great Lakes), Canada’s Niagara Peninsula, and on to New York (Finger Lakes). Great Riesling wines can be found all along this northern belt, so it makes sense that great wines of other types are found there, too.

Michigan wineries always came to Riesling Rendezvous and turned skeptics into fans. Respect! Not everyone has the benefit of the Riesling Rendezvous experience, however, so the very fact of Michigan wine often comes as a surprise.

The idea that American wine comes from California is very strong and there is some logic in it. California’s nearly 5000 wineries produce about 90% of all U.S. wine. California is big in wine; there are lots of vineyards acres, wine producers, and some of the largest winery complexes in the world.

Michigan’s Surprising Wine Industry

Most of the over 6000 U.S. wineries not located in California are small producers that depend on loyal local consumers. The difference in scale means that they are often overlooked and many people, even some locals, are surprised to discover them.

That’s true with Michigan’s wine industry. According to American Wine by Jancis Robinson and Linda Murphy, Michigan’s wine history goes back to the 1600s. French explorers made wine from native grape varieties, and the settlements that followed made wine, too. Eventually, the Michigan wine industry emerged and gained steam in the mid-1800s.

Michigan wine recovered quickly from Prohibition, according to American Wine, but then pretty much collapsed. Why? Competition is the answer. Many early wines were made from Concord grapes, so winemakers had to compete with grape juice companies for grape supplies. Investment in vineyards was limited by the higher returns offered by conversion to apples and cherries. Only two wineries remained in 1970. The long book of Michigan wine history was seemingly writing its last chapter.

But the book goes on. Michigan boasts 233 wineries in 2023 according to the Wine Business Monthly, having experienced steady growth over the last ten years. Michigan ranks #9 among U.S. states in terms of winery count, wedged between North Carolina (205 wineries) and Ohio (329 wineries). Surprised by these numbers? I thought you would be!

Simpson Family Estates

The wines we sampled from Good Harbor Vineyards and Aurora Cellars have roots that go back more than 40 years,  which is a very long time in American wine. Founder Bruce Simpson aspired to make good, affordable wines in Michigan and, after studies at UC Davis, he and his wife Debbie established Good Harbor Vineyards in 1980. The operation remains in family hands today and has grown into Simpson Family Estates, which includes both Good Harbor and the Aurora Cellars wines. Harbor Hill Fruit Farms, which supplies grapes and winemaking services to the family wineries and other winemakers, too, is also family-owned and -operated.

Given our previous experience with Michigan wines, we weren’t surprised that the Dry Riesling and Gruner Veltliner wines we tasted were very good. But the quality of the sparkling wines and the Pinot Grigio caught us a bit off guard, as did the Kiwi-esque punch of the Sauvignon Blanc.

The red wines from Aurora were the real surprise. The Cabernet Franc was terrific and the Blaufrankisch was excellent, with a bit more soft grip than the Cabernet Franc and good fruit flavor, too.

Blaufrankisch (a.k.a. Lemberger) is an under-appreciated grape variety and we are glad to see it getting attention in Michigan. The grape was planted here in Washington state in the early days but is slowly disappearing as vineyards are replanted to more profitable Cabernet Sauvignon. Lemberger sells out at the tasting room, one winemaker told me, but it is hard to sell through distribution.

We were surprised to see Blaufrankisch in Michigan. But then Michigan wine is full of surprises, isn’t it?

A Wine Emissary from Planet Bonny Doon

Sue and I had an unexpected visitor recently. He said he was an emissary from another world, a place called Bonny Doon Vineyard. He came in peace, bearing two very interesting Bonny Doon wines.

Was I happy to see the visitor? It doesn’t look like it from the photo shown here (and he looks pretty serious, too), but things aren’t always what they appear at first glance.

Wine from Planet Earth

The wines that the emissary brought were very good. Le Cigare Volant is fresh and delicious, a blend of Grenache, Syrah, Cinsault, and a bit of Petite Sirah. “Red wine of California’s Central Coast, USA, Earth” it said.

Le Cigare Orange, the second wine we tasted, is mostly Grenache Blanc with ten percent each of Grenache and Orange Muscat. “Skin-contact wine of the Earth,” the label explained. Nice peach aroma with the bit of tannins that orange wine lovers look for. I think someone has written that this is an entry or gateway orange wine and that’s not a bad description. A wine to appeal to both red and white wine drinkers.

Randall Grahm founded Boony Doon Vineyard nearly forty years ago. Its original mission was to make wines like those in Burgundy, but Grahm quickly shifted focus to Rhone-style wines. The first vintage of Le Cigare Volant was released in 1986 and it has headlined for Bonny Doon line-up ever since.

Flying Cigar?

Le Cigare Volant — the flying cigar? What kind of a name is that? It is complicated, so I will explain.

Grahm is serious about wine, but playfully creative, too. Le Cigare was meant to pay homage to the wines of Chateauneuf-du-Pape. It is a little-known fact that, during the flying saucer craze in 1954, the village of Chateauneuf-du-Pape adopted a law banning alien craft (called cigares volant in French) from landing, taking off, or flying over the vineyards. The label artwork shows a spacecraft casting a beam of light on a chateau and its vineyards. Beaming aliens down? No, I’ll bet they are beaming the wines back up!

Bonny Doon makes excellent wines and is a strong, distinctive brand. When Sue and I heard Grahm talk to a group of wine writers a few years ago, he seemed almost embarrassed by his ability to successfully build brands (he is also the creator of Big House wines, Cardinal Zin, and Pacific Rim wines). But there is no reason that good wines cannot exist along with popular brands.

Tale of Two Brands

Grahm sold off the brand rights to Big House, etc., to fund his various vineyard projects and in 2019 he did the same with Bonny Doon, selling it to WarRoom Cellars. WarRoom Cellars is in the business of building brands and making the brands that it acquires (like Bonny Doon) more marketable.

Brands are very important in the wine business and I will admit that it makes me nervous when brands are bought and sold like properties on a Monopoly board (which happens quite a lot these days). Some of the biggest wine industry transactions of recent years have involved the exchange of brand intellectual property with no vineyards or production assets attached. For example, Constellation Brands paid $285 million in 2016, the The Prisoner brand.

Sometimes brand transactions work out just fine, but I am haunted by the story of Paul Masson, which I recounted in a chapter called “Martians versus Wagnerians” in my book Wine Wars II. Once California’s most expensive wine, Paul Masson’s brand was sold and sold again, eventually becoming a cheap generic jug wine before slipping off the wine market map altogether. (The brand still exists, I’m told, in the form of Paul Masson traditional and flavored brandy). These days the wine is best remembered for its sometimes accidentally ridiculous television commercials featuring a possibly sober Orson Welles.

Good News Travels Fast

In this case, the good news is that the Bonny Doon brand transition seems to have worked out very well. The signature red wine is different, but certainly in the founder’s spirit. It is a bit lighter in weight and brighter, too, but has good fruit and some complexity. Significantly, it is a good deal cheaper, resting comfortably in the wine wall’s current sweet spot of $15 to $20 ($17.99 on the winery website).

It is not the wine that Grahm made when he first created the brand, but it is not ridiculous to think it might be the wine he’d make now if he were starting up today.

So cheers to Bonny Doon and its alien emissaries for making planet Earth a better place for wine lovers.