I love days like this. I spend all week ranting and raving about this wine or that wine and tsk-tsking imbalance and trying to carefully word my horror at the market momentum the ‘consumer-driven-palate’ has gained and people are all OMG HOW DARE YOU! and then I open my computer in the morning and start reading.
“For that reason, I don’t drink a lot of ____________ wine. I tend to view most bottles from this part of the world as conforming to a certain oversaturated modern style, weighed down with alcohol, oak, and extraction.” –Some bigwig smarter than me
And… another article…
“What I say is give the customer not what they think they like, but what they should like. The task is ours. Once we have convinced them, they can encourage all those involved in the production and sales of food-friendly wines…” –Another bigwig smarter than me
And I am not elated because I TOLD YOU SO, I am sad because the industry has stooped so far and it is the 21st century and the Social Media God has spoken and said, “There will be no bad wines. All the wines are good. Every wine you drink will be wonderful and you will smile and indicate your smiling with little smiley faces at the end of your post. And you shall be friends with all the winemakers and marketing people and you shall go to private tastings and ‘Blogger Conventions’ and you shall attend seminars and gain parallel directives and learn the approved descriptors and participate in webinars about family farms being turned into AVAs and obscure varietals and educate people about whole regions and taste through whole flights across numerous wineries and never once say anything bad about a wine. They shall all be great wines. Because the Lord wants a consumer who can rattle off all the wineries in Yamhill County, Oregon and describe in detail the composition of soil in the Adelaida District of Paso Robles down to 35 feet and list the last 4 generations of Gruner producers in a valley in Austria and the importance of de-leafing and frequent punch-downs in Pinot, but The Lord will not tolerate you saying the Cabernet sitting on your table is a fat, over-worked, lab-created pile of crap because, well, that would just be mean.”
And on the seventh day, God rested.