The Battle for Wine and Love
or How I Saved the World from Parkerization
Author: Alice Feiring
The font of the title is pleasantly wacky, and the title itself promises a dream-like escapade in which Feiring daydreams herself “saving the world” and falling in love with a superhero winemaker. Not a bad concept.
This is not a journalistic effort like other recently released wine books, To Cork or Not to Cork, The Billionaire’s Vinegar, First Big Crush, Wine and Philosophy. This is a personal essay on a personal point of view. The book is a small-format book—hardbound, 5 ½ “ by 8”, 258 pages exclusive of acknowledgments and index, and can easily be read in a few hours.
In the introduction she says, “I am hoping to intrigue those who want wines that truly have a story to tell. Once people experience these wines and winemakers, once they know that wine truly does have soul and character, it will be difficult for them to cozy up to wines made by the numbers and not from the heart.”
I hope that this book fulfills her mission.
Unfortunately . . .
Feiring’s odyssey doesn’t begin with a pleasant daydream—it’s more like a nightmare litany of everything wrong with the wines landing on her doorstep as she prepares to work on a project for Food & Wine—and she places the responsibility for these bland wines squarely on the doorstep of wine critic Robert Parker. Her negativity doesn’t exactly draw one into the story. I would have preferred that the book begin with a chapter introducing a favorite vintner or biodynamic grower—a glimpse of what Feiring loves, is passionate about, and is perhaps in fear of losing. This would have drawn me into her story and given me something as a reader to care about. Instead, she begins with her personal history, from sniffing her food as a child to becoming a self-declared vinous prodigy.
The subject of Robert Parker is not tangential to her book. In the first 25 pages (the introduction and part of the first chapter) Parker is mentioned by name 48 times, and referred to by pronoun just as frequently. Despite Feiring’s objections that she is not gunning for Parker, she definitely has an allergy to the wine critic, perhaps because of early formative experiences in a wine shop, which would have undoubtedly exposed her to the influence of ‘lemming’ purchasing based on scores.
Feiring is apt at describing winemaking processes in a way that wine novitiates will enjoy and understand. Her description of the function of yeast is enjoyable to read, although she includes gross oversimplifications, like claiming that “designer” yeasts create specific aromas and flavors, similar to adding single essences in a perfume.
Initially, the book appears to be a series of personal essay-adventures, in which learning and self-challenge would be explored, and a journalistic series, in which open-minded and fair coverage of an issue should be stressed. But Feiring relates only adventures which confirm her mindset, and her journalism is ill-informed and biased. I think she may have taken on a tiger by writing a provocative book that tackles processes she doesn’t understand and has not taken the time to research.
On the topic of zinfandel, Feiring repeatedly blames the demise of her favorite style of zinfandel on Parker’s 95-point “love poem” to Turley’s Hayne Vineyard Zinfandel. According to Feiring, winemaker Helen Turley’s long hangtime approach and resulting high scores single-handedly gave rise to a New World propensity for overripe, “stupid” wines. However, Turley Wine Cellars is owned by Larry Turley, and his sister Helen Turley only made the wines for the first year and a half of the winery’s existence. After that, the wines have been crafted by winemaker Ehren Jordan, and Helen went on to plant a vineyard and create her own brand, Marcassin, where she produces only cool climate chardonnay and pinot noir. I think it’s a bit of a stretch . . . okay, it’s basically a torn ligament, to lay the blame for big alcohol zinfandels at the door of one wine from one winemaker who is more attuned to working with varietals other than zinfandel.
Feiring never addresses a common consumer phenomenon—a distaste for ‘peppery’ zinfandels. Zinfandel has a characteristic spicy herb or peppercorn flavor. But a number of zinfandels are produced in such a way that the distinctive pepper is toned down, blended away, or manipulated out of existence. Surely Feiring must have experienced this in her wine shop experience and her travels. The move toward producing “cabalicious” zins which suit the unadventurous palate has been, in my opinion, far more damaging than zinfandel’s reputation for high alcohol.
Feiring’s premise, while not accurately supported, is still valid. It is true that high scores for the unusually big wines of the early 1990’s fostered a rush toward longer hangtimes. Wine is not immune to fashion, and Parker’s Wine Advocate was not the only critical influence in shaping trends. Paul Draper’s early experiments with massive tannins in zinfandel created a winemaking rush to produce highly extracted, tannic zins. When Draper announced that he had changed his mind about that style, it disappeared overnight (except in our cellars where the experiment is perhaps ongoing). High scores in the 1980’s for a handful of oaky, buttery chardonnays created a juggernaut of butter-bombs, which is not surprising given the acreage planted to this variety in California.
I was personally aghast when I started reading chapter two. Feiring rolls her luggage off the plane in Paso Robles, and before she has left the tarmac she mentions controlling winemakers and Clark Smith at Vinovation in Sonoma—a controversial man and a controversial firm that promote making wine by the numbers, a concept that riles more than a few winemakers in Paso Robles. Feiring apparently visits only one winery, which she describes as a megacommerical, ultramodern winery that uses acid additions, tannin additions, wood chips, enzymes, and pretty much everything Feiring considers evil. And then . . . apparently . . . she gets back on the plane and leaves. She then visits UC Davis, where she learns more about topics of which she disapproves.
At UC Davis, Feiring asks, “The taste of biodynamic and organic and natural is one that appeals to a whole slew of people. The taste of the other kind of wine, one that I view more as a beverage than an art, appeals to another group. Shouldn’t both kinds of winemaking be taught?” A UC Davis professor tries to explain that they teach the science and mechanics of winemaking, with the clear implication (at least to me) that once the technique has been mastered, the student may return to the Tao of simplicity. But Feiring insists that natural winemaking should be “taught.” After her observation that we often enjoy the taste of a natural product more, I can’t help but wonder . . . if it were strawberries or tomatoes or donuts . . . which would we enjoy more? The worm-infested product of a pot-smoking earth muffin who took a class in natural baking and gardening, or the product of a student who mastered the science and techniques of baking or gardening and made an informed choice to produce a pure, healthy product?
She criticizes UC Davis for not “teaching” natural winemaking and for not offering classes in “Old World” solutions. She doesn’t understand why only the science is taught. “You can’t be accepted to the Yale drama school if you don’t have some sort of inner artistic fire.” Feiring studied for a masters degree in dance and movement therapy. So perhaps she has a point. If there are dance courses in ancient rhythms and natural movement (which to me, would mean no shoes, no clothes, and no music . . . nothing added other than the body and a floor), why not winemaking classes in inner fire, how to be talented, and natural winemaking?
Feiring is at her best when she relates her adventures and tasting tromps through Europe, primarily France. Of course, she whole-heartedly believes everything she is told there, but her adventures are charming and convincing. And in Europe, she features both the large commercial productions and the small, single-vineyard producers who farm organically or biodynamically. For the most part Europe is portrayed as a haven for multigenerational harmony with the land.
Throughout, Feiring makes sweeping proclamations regarding the craft of winemaking and how it should be done.
On one page she says, “sustainable agriculture is based on chemical farming,” which is categorically untrue.
Among her disapproved additions she includes “yeast food (based on urea)”. But not all yeast nutrients are urea-based. Many small wineries use yeast nutrients that are simply yeast hulls, which are high in vitamin B and absorb autotoxic byproducts (which would only be toxic to the yeastie-beasties by the way, not to humans). It’s the equivalent of vinous dry compost. She did not explore the concept of urea at all—she only shudders—and is therefore apparently unaware, and her readers uninformed—that urea is a product of carbon dioxide, water, aspartate, and ammonia. Although it occurs in the human body, it is also a naturally occurring product of inorganic combinations, and it is also produced by invertebrates, insects, plants, yeast, fungi, and even microorganisms. So she praises biodynamic vineyards, which plant dung-filled cowhorns at the end of vineyard rows under a full moon, and inflate deer penises. But a small California winery that adds a little yeast and fungus poop to their fermentation is somehow selling out to the gods of corporate manipulation?
In the chapter on Rioja, “Every other winery I had visited had finished [fermentation] but here fermentation stopped when the wine wanted it to, not when the winemaker stopped it.” What a befuddling statement. Every other winery in Europe? Or every other winery in Rioja? How do the winemakers stop the fermentations? And why? How do the finished wines differ?
“Modern wine folk like fast ferments—a week, maybe two weeks at most,” she says. Which kind of fermentation? Which modern wine folk? Everyone? We are all pretty much under the age of 60, as it gets harder and harder to move barrels around with age. Why do winemakers prefer faster fermentation? Is she aware that many California productions frequently ferment for six months or more, if you include malolactic conversions and finishing those last few points of primary? Does she even understand the properties of fermentation well enough to comment?
Among the evils of modern wine processes, she includes fining with gelatin, or as she calls it, “finishing.” But she doesn’t mention that in France, and elsewhere in Europe, bull’s blood, eggs, milk and Irish moss have been used as finishing agents for centuries. Nor does she mention that gelatin is produced from bones and is completely natural.
On the subject of barrels, she says, “ I am no winemaker, but I wondered: Didn’t they know that those barrels could also make wine extremely bitter?” Feiring loves “authentic” old wood tuns, and continually disparages wineries that have brought in “new, small barriques”. She also adores thick, black mold growing on the cellar walls and surfaces and considers it a sign of an “authentic” wine cave. But there is no mention of brettanomyces in the book, and no mention of anisoles infecting the wineries and barrels. At all.
Regarding a 1987 Tondonia, “[Parker] said the wine had ‘early maturity,’ meaning it got old before its time.” But the Wine Advocate indicator ‘early maturity’ means the wine is in a stage of early maturity. This error invalidates her criticisms of Parker’s views on this wine, and shows a gross ignorance of her nemesis’ scoring system.
At one point she lambastes the “super-duper” Parker scores on young Barolos, calling them hard, flat, and chewy although she had been told they were made in a “modern” style to drink young. These, she laments, were a far cry from her “beloved 1968 Giovanni Scanavino.” However, she had drunk the ’68 Scanavino with friends in 1980—when the wine was twelve years old. Did she assume that a “young” Barolo should be perfectly balanced in its first year of release?
In the next to last chapter, “My Date with Bob,” Feiring gets all prickly when Parker simply won’t converge to her point of view. Parker points out that more wine is actually being made naturally today, and that there are many more organic and biodynamic vineyards than when he began reviewing wine. But Feiring will have none of that, referring back to the Paso Robles winery that claimed on its website all grapes were hand-harvested and handled as little as possible, but according to Feiring then corrupts their production with tannins and acids, as if this is proof that all Paso Robles wineries, and by extension the entire New World, are liars and cheats.
If there is romance in this book, I couldn’t find it. She refers to her string of relationships with names like Mr. Straightlaced, and her earth-shattering breakup with The Owl Man warranted one or two paragraphs.
If Alice Feiring ever shows up on my winery doorstep . . .
I will fire up the 1965 baby blue Mustang convertible with its rumbling Flowmaster pipes, roll down the top, and force her to visit small Paso Robles wineries with me as her guide. She will visit Caparone, where the wines are so natural they have hair in their armpits. Pipestone, where Jeff Pipes farms biodynamically and tills his vineyard with a horsedrawn plow. Fratelli Perata and other small, generational vineyards where you trip over the tricycles on your way to the door and wonder if you are in Deliverance-meets-Disneyland.
And perhaps she will meet a swaggering vineyard owner in cowboy boots, hat and silver buckle who will find her irascible, red-headed, outspoken charm irresistible. The kind of man who will never tolerate a nickname . . .






Dear Mary,
I appreciate your reading my book, even if you found it easy to dismiss.
Perhaps it was that you read it all too quickly, but I would appreciate it if you would keep your attack to the facts.
For the record, I talk about Turley in the 1993 vintage--Helen made that wine.
There was no 'early wine store experience' with Parker scores. I have no idea what you're talking about there. It is not in the book.
And, never in a million years would I use the term "super-duper.' That is an Andrea Immer Robinson term, not mine.
You are correct, I should have been clearer with the 'early maturity' section---something definitely got lost in that translation and I should have added my tasting notes for some authentic new vintage barolos to make my claim more iron clad.
Also, I am also sorry that you took this as a slash and burn to ALL Paso wineries. This is not the case and it shows a limited reading on your part. Speaking of Jeff Pipes, I like the wines as well as some others out your way.
This is a polarizing topic, as evidenced by your reading. And all I can say is vive la difference.
All the best,
Alice
Posted by: Alice Feiring | May 11, 2008 at 01:13 PM
Hey Mary,
Is it just me, or does Alice's response to your critique seem strange somehow?
If Alice really believed in the maxim she cites above (vive la difference), then why would she dismiss outright 99% of California wines as undrinkable plonk and 90% of everything else the world over as same?
I mean, were I as passionate about a style of wine as she, made in the way she obviously finds appealing, I would spend all my time lauding the virtues of those producers who hewed to my way of thinking and encouraging others to join us.
What I wouldn't do is spend it denigrating the palates of powerful and influential critics and producers who had the audacity to feel differently from me as to what makes a wine great.
"You suck" only motives a person so much, you know? Maybe try a bit less stick and a little more sugar cookie.
I'm just spitballing here, but that's not going to sell quite as many books, now is it?
Perhaps all this silliness has less to do with engaging in a debate over the soul of wine and more to do with standing out in a crowded field. I don't know. Who can tell these days, with all this new blogging technology obscuring the authentic expression of an author's true thoughts.
But I do know that my first talk with my literary agent at ICM had little to do with my passion for wine or our story, and much to do with pumping out a marketable "Kitchen Confidential" for the wine industry.
There's not much a person won't do to succeed when it's their career on the line, whether it's in business, wine or writing. Perhaps - just maybe - Alice has more in common with us California producers than she might suspect.
Vive la difference...sure. C'est le pied. Lovely sentiment. Except, that is, when I've got a book to sell. Then all bets are off. But hey, c'est la vie. That's just the nature of biz. D'accord?
Posted by: Josh | May 11, 2008 at 10:28 PM
You go Mary!
I can't say I'll get to Alice's book anytime soon, my reading stack is too high already. But I understand how you can have such a reaction to a book. I've just finished "A Cultivated Life", by Joy Sterling, which called out at our local used bookstore. That could have been a great book, but I could not identify with the author. I just kept thinking how unbearable one of the interminable, perfect and delicious lunches she described as the essence of the vineyard life would be, listening to the hosts the way she paints them.
Not too long ago I found "The Vineyard" by Idwal Jones. There's a beautiful wine book, set in a time before all the science set in. I bet both you and Alice would enjoy that one.
Posted by: JF | May 11, 2008 at 11:51 PM
How can this NOT be a slash and burn to all Paso Robles wineries? If Alice chooses to write about only one winery, and possibly the worst example she could find, then it IS a slash and burn. If she likes Jeff Pipes wines and felt they were an antidote to US commercialism, why didn't she include those wines in the book? Alice? Any comment?
Posted by: Conner Cooke | May 12, 2008 at 08:00 AM
The whole "Parker Effect" has been bashed to death already. Most wine aficionados either like Parker or don't, they either grab up his favorites or they avoid them, but no one complains that there is a dearth of elegantly crafted wine.
Posted by: Windsurfer | May 12, 2008 at 08:32 AM
I bought this book but it is still sitting in the queue. Meanwhile, I found the author's admonition to you to check your facts quite odd, when obviously she didn't bother to do so in her hyped-up article promoting her book in the L.A. Times.
Posted by: MonkuWino | May 17, 2008 at 03:28 PM
"After her observation that we often enjoy the taste of a natural product more, I can’t help but wonder . . . if it were strawberries or tomatoes or donuts . . . which would we enjoy more? The worm-infested product of a pot-smoking earth muffin who took a class in natural baking and gardening, or the product of a student who mastered the science and techniques of baking or gardening and made an informed choice to produce a pure, healthy product?"
Yellow card!
Foul!
Bit of a strawman argument here, Mary.
"Natural" winemaking (whatever the heck that means) is not solely the province of the pot-smoking earthmuffin. Most of the notables in the field (like the heroes of Feiring's book) are serious, hard-working types, as committed to research and experimentation as any.
Regards,
Posted by: Bruce G. | May 18, 2008 at 05:08 PM
Alice, I don’t think an 1,800 word review is a easy ‘dismissal’ of your book, nor an ‘attack’ but an objectively critical review. I found much to compliment in your book. I have no issue with your taste in wine and your preference for more classically styled wines and the regions you cover in more depth than California. All excellent. I have read Nicholas Joly (more than once) and researched biodynamics. Soil scientist Tom Rice and I even performed crystallization experiments based on the work of Ehrenfried Pfeiffer. Certainly I am among the wine industry and wine press who don’t appreciate having an author recommend that our wines be poured down the drain, but I have tried to overcome my bias and approach the book as my blog readers might. Therefore, this is a review that addresses “the facts” as I see them, and I think I’ve laid them out pretty clearly.
Yes, Helen Turley made the 1993 Turley Hayne Vineyard. My point is . . . how many zinfandels has she crafted before and since?
As for no early wine store experience with Parker scores, you are right. It is NOT in the book and therefore it’s a little hard to understand how you made the leap from admiring lean, herbal, old world wines to disparaging Robert Parker and blaming him (and by extent all critics) for the recent fashion toward high extraction wines. You do relate conversations with vintners who claim that Parker influences these styles, but there are a lot of factors that have contributed to this style of wine, and you chose not to cover them—or even acknowledge them—in your book. So for me there was an autobiographical omission between setting out to find the wines you love, and interviewing vintners on the influence of Parker. I was left to guess why that developed, and yet it’s a key issue in your book.
You used Immer’s phrase “super-duper” to describe the scores. If you disapprove of the term, then why did you use it? I agree you could have added more tasting notes for many of the wines you admire and tasted. You make sweeping claims as to their quality, but the reader is left wondering how, exactly, you define quality for that wine, and what sensory components you value.
On “slash and burn” to Paso wineries (which is your phrase) you say, “it shows a limited reading on your part.” But you mention only one winery in Paso Robles, and you mention it more than once as a perfect example of commercialized, overmanipulated winemaking. I read each section more than once, and I also looked in the index to see if there were any other references to Paso Robles. I also understand that your intention is to portray two extreme examples of California winemaking, and you chose examples from two entirely different regions. Paso Robles drew the short straw this time, and I hope you will return to explore the region in more depth.
Posted by: Mary Baker | May 19, 2008 at 03:39 PM
Josh, thanks for your comments. I’m also thinking that a positive approach would go farther toward accomplishing her goal, if that goal is to get more people interested in the wines she likes. To be fair, she does relate visits to small producers and biodynamic vineyards . . . she travels through Europe with her friend “Skinny” and other characters, and in some cases she really brings the winery owners or marketing warlocks to life.
As Californians, we probably find it odd that she so readily condemns most California wine as “big” and “stupid.” But one of the economic ironies of living in the U.S. is that it costs more to get our wine to the East Coast than it does for the East Coast to get French wine. And since Feiring lives in New York and readily admits to being a “Europhile” it is in part understandable that she would have such a limited view of our state . . . . which as you know boasts very distinct winemaking regions. Plus Big Sur and Esalen, George Leonard and Michael Murphy, early proponents of Rudolph Steiner and Randolph Stone, and an Italian winemaking heritage that believes in racking wine by the phases of the moon.
Posted by: Mary Baker | May 19, 2008 at 04:34 PM
JF, thanks for the recommendations. ‘The Vineyard’ sounds like a fun book, and I plan to read it soon.
Posted by: Mary Baker | May 19, 2008 at 05:21 PM
Mary said...
"As Californians, we probably find it odd that she so readily condemns most California wine as “big” and “stupid.” But one of the economic ironies of living in the U.S. is that it costs more to get our wine to the East Coast than it does for the East Coast to get French wine. And since Feiring lives in New York and readily admits to being a “Europhile” it is in part understandable that she would have such a limited view of our state . . . ."
Out of curiosity, Mary, what percentage of the state's wines do you think are made in a way consistent with Ms. Feiring's preferences? By this, I'd refer you to the "definitions" she's laid out in her discussion with you on the Cellar Rats discussion board (nice site, BTW)... how many of California's wineries make wine in that way?
In the same vein, what percentage make wines that you think Ms. Feiring might find "dumb" or "stupid"? [Harder to get a working definition of this, but I'd suggest wines that are "high alcohol, manipulation, too much fruit, too much wood", adding "a high degree of ripeness" to the mix.]
Posted by: Bruce G. | May 19, 2008 at 05:35 PM
Bruce G., thank you for your comments. I agree, natural is not the sole province of PSEM’s! I am just scratching my head as to how Feiring proposes that UC Davis should teach it. According to Feiring’s principles, wine should be made by picking naturally grown grapes and letting the must ferment natively. Sounds like a fairly short course in winemaking to me.
Natural winemaking is a philosophy. UC Davis teaches fermentation science. From there a young producer can make an informed choice to use cultivated or native yeast, and he/she will understand the challenges and advantages of each. UC Davis has courses and books on cover crops. From there, one can make an informed choice to go bare ground with weed control, annual tillage cover crops (like rye, barley, clover, vetch) or no-till perennial grasses (slippery when wet, good for erosion control but only recommended for terraces or slopes, not steep grades.) UC Davis teaches wildlife and fish conservation. UC Davis teaches courses in ‘World Viticulture’. From the course catalog: “The history of grape growing and its spread throughout the world . . . along with discussions of current viticultural practices in different parts of the world.” Courses in soil science help the young viticulturist understand where, how and why to plant particular varieties. I suppose UC Davis could teach a class in biodynamics, but there is no supported science and almost no current research. All the information needed can be gleaned from the Demeter organization. I suppose they could offer a course in "History of Winemaking Philosophies." (After all, biodynamie is just one school of agricultural thought.)
**********************
If Alice likes only 1% of the releases available in California, that would be . . . 2700 wineries times (say) 10 releases a year, so at least 27,000 wines to choose from . . . 270 wines per year from California alone. But if she’s looking for native yeast fermentations, biodynamic vineyards, etc. she will need to do some research and some traveling, just like the rest of us. One difficulty in tracking down these wines, and not just for Alice but for the rest of us, is that in America perhaps only part of a producer’s portfolio might be native yeast or from organic/BD vineyards. And frequently the producers that tout these qualities are the ones who are reaching for a promotional hook, so one needs to look past that. It’s the quiet rebels and the small producers who do not need to flash their lights to a national audience who are most likely to create the kinds of wines that she would like.
Even before Parker’s reign, I doubt that Alice would have liked more than 1% of California wines. Until the late 1970’s and the advent of combined crusher/destemmers, and phased presses, Californians generally pressed the &^%$ out of everything, creating hard, green, tannic wines. Then came the Montelana cab phase, and every variety grown in California was expected to thrive on the same spacing, soils, and trellising as cabernet. This resulted in sunburned sangiovese and nebbiolo, tannic and unripe zinfandel—not a good era for California’s heritage grapes. And I’m not surprised that she finds 90% of the world’s wines unpalatable. Frankly, for many producers, this business is as romantic as crafting tennis shoes. That’s not Parker’s fault.
Now the phase is high alcohol and extraction. Yes, part of the influence may indeed be Parker scores. But the Parker influence is actually stronger in FRANCE, where pricing fluctuates with market expectations. In the U.S., our 3-tier distribution system creates demand for consistent pricing from year to year, so a high score creates market “pull” but only consistently high scores year after year justify higher prices. And America is a nation where renegades and genius dropouts with authority problems thrive. There are plenty of producers who actually strive to make wines that are not bruisers, and yet . . . not French. Just uniquely Californian.
Posted by: Mary Baker | May 20, 2008 at 11:05 AM
Mary:
Thanks for the thoughtful responses.
Re: UCDavis... could they teach "natural winegrowing"? It has been a while since I was there, so I can't speak of the current curriculum. But back in those days the techniques presented and discussed were offered in a "value neutral" fashion. Filtration, for instance, was not presented as either advisable or ill-advised per se. Instead we heard about the types of filtrations available, how one would filter wine, what the various consequences of filtration might be, etc. Whether or not we should add filtration to a given winemaking protocol was not really a topic of discussion, as that would depend upon individual goals and stylistic preferences; UCD obviously didn't see it as within their responsibilities to push us in a certain direction. Heck, UCD didn't even offer up survey courses of the world's wines... we students had to put that together.
So, while UCD didn't teach natural winegrowing, it didn't NOT teach it either. Rather, it simply presented the students with a box of tools and said "here they are, this is what they do... you decide which (if any) you will use to achieve your goals".
Having said that, I understand Ms. Feiring's point... UCD, having taught its relatively green students a lot of manipulative techniques, might have stressed aesthetics and traditional winemaking values a bit more.
I laughed when I read Ms. Feiring pondering how UCD VitEnol could possibly benefit from having a couple of Philosophy profs on staff. Long ago I made the mistake of recommending to a group of V&E profs that the department would do well to encourage its students to find their own personal Muses to help them lay an aesthetic foundation upon which to build. I suggested a beginning level course that I called "Poetry for Winos". The professors were unmoved by my suggestion... one of em even called me a troglodyte.
:)
Re: my question about California wine production, a la mode Feiring vs. otherwise... thanks for the response. I am curious as to what percentage of wines are being made in the style that Ms. Feiring professes to like. I honestly don't know, since I haven't been "inside" the California wine industry for a couple of decades now.
If it really is as high as you intimate, and the "lack" of these wines in current distribution is more scarcity and a desire of these producers to stay away from the spotlight, then I can only hope that these folks increase production a bit. Either that, or here's hoping that the "success" of these quiet rebels serves as incentive for others to follow suit.
I must confess that I don't drink too much California wine these days. Maybe it's just me (of course, from a certain perspective it IS just me), but "big" and "thick" and "rich" and "ripe" and "more" are sounding less and less like positive attributes. Of course, there is still a solid list of a few Cal producers who I can turn to give me what I want. And I've also curtailed my buying of things like Chateauneuf and Bordeaux and Priorat for the same reasons. So it's hardly a "California only" problem.
But I'd like to support the industry more. Which is why, almost counter-intuitively, I find myself looking favorably on what Feiring writes.... I think there are, within her message, some kernels of info that might be of use to the California wine industry.
Anyway, applause to you all around. For tolerating alternative ideas on your own site. For attempting dialogue with someone with which you obviously disagree to a large extent. For your website and blog... very nicely done. For your commitment to sustainable farming (which I find important in a way completely divorced from issues of wine style), and for your work in establishing wildlife habitats.
Applause all around.
Last, a completely self-serving question: Do you export to Japan?
I've never had a Dover Canyon wine, and feel the need to redress this serious lapse in judgement on my part ASAP.
Posted by: Bruce G. | May 20, 2008 at 07:24 PM
Bruce, I agree, the message is important. I feel it’s also important to convey the message positively, with respect for all styles of wine and for individual taste. The more delicate wines should not be elbowed aside by anyone. They can be amazing.
On our wines—sorry, we barely export to other states. We used to be distributed in NY, CO, GA, FL, SC and NC, but at this point our CA distribution and our private wine list account for all of our sales. And we’re happy to enjoy the simplicity of that. But if we can, we’ll get a few bottles to you somehow, so we can toast each other online!
Posted by: Mary Baker | May 21, 2008 at 06:04 PM
UPDATE: I got an email from Alice today about my 'review' of her book. Something about killing babies and stakes through the heart.
_________________________
And on Wine Therapy . . . "Might Mary have been a little touchy after reading my piece on disliking California wines? Like a few others, I think she based her reviews on reading the index and selected page. I certainly ticked her off."
_________________________
(Well, that's like saying one could open her book just anywhere and find inaccuracies, so that's sort of like aiming at your own foot.)
I'm sure this book is going to be very popular. It's quirky and fun and it will be a good read for many people. Her book has received fawning reviews from the New York Sun and Toronto Globe and Mail. Both the LA Times and SF Chronicle have published articles by Alice, and promoted her book in the byline. She's been mentioned in Fortune's 'Small Business' and in the wine column/blog of the NY Times.
Yes, my review is critical, but I would hardly liken it to killing babies. Come on. Grow a skin, Alice. As winery owners, we submit all our 'children' for review every year. We take our lumps. And we listen to our critics and our customers.
Posted by: Mary Baker | May 21, 2008 at 06:50 PM
Over at 'Bigger Than Your Head' the discussion continues, with thoughtful commentary from Fred Koeppel, Thomas Pellechia and author Alice Feiring. And Matthew DeBord, a former editor of Wine Spectator, responds to Feiring's piece 'California Wine: Down the Drain" with a heated essay to the LA Times.
http://biggerthanyourhead.net/2008/05/24/how-good-does-wine-have-to-be/#comments
http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/la-oew-debord12-2008may12,0,6289192.story
Posted by: Mary B. | May 29, 2008 at 07:07 AM
I just interviewed Alice for our show Women & Wine radio on www.voiceamerica.com airing this coming Thursday at 2 p.m. PST and then available for download on www.womenandwineradio.com. There's lots of good conversation coming out of this book - my comments were in the direction of the tendency towards higher alcohol (is that manipulation?) as well as similar mouth feel of some of these wines. Having just returned from Spain, I must say that I slept better after an evening of 13% vintages....
Posted by: Julie Brosterman | June 01, 2008 at 09:58 AM
Mary,
Kudos for a thoughtful and passionate review.
The challenge facing any generalist like Feiring who has an agenda -- my guess is, her pitch to the publisher was along the lines of "Let's take Robert Parker down a couple of pegs" -- is that your manifesto can look pretty foolish if you don't do your research well.
Sounds like the fundamental errors in her reporting are so glaring that you can't ignore them, even if her style is breezy (or snarky, for that matter).
I was also delighted to see you mentioned two of my other favorite Paso wineries, Fratelli Perata and Caparone. I love their wines and yours for completely different reasons. And had I not obtained a map of Paso's wine country a decade ago with the intent of eventually visiting every winery I could on my (now) annual visits, I would have never found these places and my life would have been a lot poorer.
I'm also really happy that Dover Canyon was one of the first stops.
Look forward to seeing you in October!
Rick
Posted by: Rick Henderson | July 16, 2008 at 12:50 PM
Thanks, Rick! It will be good to see you soon.
Posted by: Mary B. | July 20, 2008 at 06:38 PM
Mary, interesting book review and I'm sorry I missed Dover Canyon when I was up in wine country with my girlfriend recently. Id be curious of your thoughts on a movie I recently saw that is all about California wine. It's called "Bottle Shock" and stars Alan Rickman and Bill Pullman. Perhaps, you've heard of it? I saw it at a sneak screening and really loved it. It's an independent movie, opening Aug 6th. It's Sideways-esque although very different story. Btw, is "bottle shock" a real phenomena -- where the wine's taste can get tampered if rattled about during transit? In any case, keep up the good work!
Posted by: Michael | July 28, 2008 at 11:44 AM
Hi, Mary, thanks for the comment and the link. Your very thoughtful review of Alice's book is the most detailed and cogent I have seen.
Posted by: Fredric Koeppel | August 04, 2008 at 02:18 PM
Michael, thank you. I have not seen "Bottle Shock" yet, but I am definitely looking forward to it! And yes, bottle shock can happen to wines from the transit and temperature changes of shipping. It is also a common phenomenon after the wines have been bottled.
Fredric, thank you for the compliment. Good to hear from you as always!
Posted by: Mary B. | August 04, 2008 at 07:04 PM
Mary,
As always, your comments seem apt and often funny. Thanks ! Though I only learned the following in the past year (Can. J. Microbiol. 44(11): 1045–1050 (1998) Saccharomyces paradoxus and Saccharomyces cerevisiae are associated with exudates of North American oaks), I chuckle up when the anti-oak brigade fire!-ready-aim at their own feet. See esp. Wine Report 2008 pp 391-2 "Where did wine yeast come from": "Surprisingly, the indigenous home of the 'wine' yeast appears to be oak exudate and the soil underneath oak trees." Best, M.
Posted by: M. | October 18, 2008 at 11:38 AM
Nobody likes negativity. It's too bad she doesn't start the book on a more positive note.
Posted by: Skull Shirt | May 29, 2009 at 02:07 PM