Sunday, 8 December 2013

The Wine Critic's Critic part 1. Want to know who the world's best wine critics are? Then read on...


They are an eclectic mix of the clever, entertaining, interesting and boring. Read my 'Wine Critic's Critic' series of articles to find out more.

I love the idea of critiquing the wine critics and quantifying them at their own game. I have reviewed 10 of the world’s most formidable against a range of criteria and scored them using my ‘100 point’ scale. How will they take it? Will I be excommunicated from their world of wine, hoist by my own pétard?

Eloi Dürrbach of Domaine de Trevallon, one of France’s great pioneering wine makers, visionary and Picasso’s godson no less, inadvertently gave me the idea. “The problem is sometimes I don’t understand what wine critics say. They use obscure words and phrases when describing wine which most people can’t comprehend”. These are Eloi’s words when I visited him and his daughter, Ostiane, in July this year. The irony of course is that critics are meant to educate, inform and entertain consumers, not confuse them.

As I drove away from his beautiful Trevallon through the limestone hills and sun baked landscape of Les Alpilles in Provence, I thought about Eloi’s comments and how perverse it is that one of the great pioneers of French wine can’t, sometimes, understand what the critics write.

I wonder whether this is generally the case. Are all critics guilty or just some of them, some of the time? What is the problem? Incomprehensible words, over complication of language, illusory aromas and flavours or do they just write plain twaddle? Does this really make tasting notes ‘pernicious’, as Eric Asimov asserts? Or do they serve a useful purpose? These are just some of the questions I address in my postings over the next couple of weeks.

My questions come into even sharper focus as I travel down to see Alain Vaillé of the fabled La Grange des Peres in Aniane. If you have ever met Alain, or his son Laurent who is the real wine making genius down there, then you will appreciate the juxtaposition of the simple artisan wine maker, nurturing his vineyards and performing alchemy, and the urbane critic, dissecting, fault finding and describing his wines, often in a sterile city location. If Eloi struggles to understand the critics at times then Alain has no chance.

Like Eloi and Alain, all the growers I meet are of their type. The list reads like a role call for the Wine Oscars; these are truly some of the great growers of France -– Etienne Grivot, Thierry Brouin (Burgundy), Vincent Avril, Marc Perrin, (Chateauneuf du Pape), Jean-Louis Chave, Michel Chapoutier (Hermitage), Stephane Robert, Thierry Allemand (Cornas), Jean- Michel Gérin, Stephane Ogier (Cote Rotie), Marcel Richard, Jerome Bressy (Cote du Rhone Villages) …. Some may be better educated than others, but at heart they men of the soil, artisans practising their trade simply to give enjoyment to consumers; they are not looking to mystify wine and make it harder to appreciate. When I see them, I must ask them whether they feel the same about the critics’ language as Eloi.

There seems to be a gap in understanding between those who ‘do’ and those who ‘teach’. I acknowledge that the growers are on the producer side rather than consumer side, with the critics obviously targeting the latter, but don’t be fooled; the producers are just like the spectrum of people for whom the critics are writing. If notes are incomprehensible for one group, they will be for the other. Furthermore, all these consumer groups meld into one: the novice, the enthusiast, the expert and the trade. We all drink wine.

Eric Asimov in his recent book ‘How to love wine’, writes in passionate terms about the ‘tyranny of the tasting note’, which exaggerate aromas and flavours. He actually goes as far to say that tasting notes are, at best, a waste of time and, at worst, pernicious. Eric is perhaps exaggerating too but I do understand the basis for his sentiment.

My conclusions are not meant to be definitive but they will provide the consumer with a guide on the quality of each critic and which ones best suit their requirements.



The 10 critics and critics
I have selected who, in my mind, are the 10 most formidable critics in the world of wine. Not everyone will agree with this list (it is my list so influenced by who I read and rate, and where I live, namely the UK) and I will add others to it over time. Here are the 10 in alphabetical order:

1.     Tim Atkin
2.     Jamie Goode
3.     Andrew Jefford and Decanter
4.     John Livingstone-Learmonth
5.     Allen Meadows
6.     James Molesworth and Wine Spectator
7.     Robert Parker
8.     Jancis Robinson
9.     James Suckling
10.  Stephen Tanzer

You will see that for the 2 main print publications of Decanter and Wine Spectator, I have also selected one of their key writers who has a high profile in the market. Here are the key facts for the 10 critics:


Name

Web site
Twitter

Type of site
Commercial model of site
Annual subscription cost, if applicable (as of Nov 2013)
No of subscribers/Twitter followers (as of Nov 2013)
Target
audience
Andrew Jefford/Decanter

Decanter.com
andrewjefford.com
@Decanter
@andrewcjefford

Decanter is a comprehensive subscriber based web site, not focused on any particular country or region. Andrew is a key contributor

Subscriber and advertising
Normally £121 pa for print and digital. Currently offer price of c£75 pa
>17,500 subscribers for Decanter. 57000 twitter followers. Andrew has 3000 Twitter followers.
Expert and enthusiastic amateurs
Burghound (Allen Meadows)

burghound.com
@burghound

Comprehensive subscriber based web site specialising in burgundy but now widening out to cover other Pinot Noir growing areas such as Californi and Oregon

Subscriber only
$145 pa for full access to database and 4 electronic quarterly issues
7500+ subscribers to burghound.com in 2010 (according to slate.com). 11,000 Twitter followers
Trade and expert amateur
James Molesworth/Wine Spectator

winespectator.com
@jmolesworth1
@WineSpectator


Comprehensive subscriber based web site, not focused on any particular country or region. James is a senior editor

Subscriber and advertising
$75 pa for magazine and web site. c$50 for web site only.
350,000+ subscribers to WS (according to goodgrape.com), WS has 110,000 twitter followers. James has 13,500 Twitter followers
Trade, expert and enthusiastic amateur
James Suckling

jamessuckling.com
@JamesSuckling

Video based web site specialising in cigars and wines from Italy and  Bordeaux although he is widening this out
Subscriber and advertising
$144 pa. Web site only - no print available
Unknown no of subscribers to James.suckling.com. 23,000 Twitter followers
Expert and enthusiastic amateurs
Jamie Goode

wineanorak.com
@jamiegoode

Comprehensive free web site with features, wine controversies, wine travel advice and a special section for those new to wine

Advertising
Free
Unknown no of regular viewers to jamiegoode.com. But it gets a lot of hits - as many as Decanter.com. 20,500 Twitter followers
Trade, expert and enthusiastic amateur
Jancis Robinson

jancisrobinson.com
@JancisRobinson

Comprehensive subscriber based web site, not focused on any particular country or region. Jancis is the leader but has a strong team supporting her

Subscriber only
£69 pa. Web site only - no print available
Unknown no of subscribers to jancisrobinson.com. 198,000 Twitter followers
Trade, expert and enthusiastic amateur
John Livingstone Learmonth

drinkrhone.com
@DrinkRhone


Comprehensive subscriber based web site specialising in northern and southern Rhone

Subscriber only
£40 pa. Web site only - no print available
Unknown no of subscribers to drinkrhone.com. JLL doesn't use twitter much - 40 Twitter followers
Trade and expert amateur
Stephen Tanzer

http://www.wineaccess.com/expert/tanzer/index.html
@StephenTanzer1


Comprehensive subscriber based web site, not focused on any particular country or region. Stephen is the leader but has a  team supporting him
Subscriber only
$90 pa. 6 bi monthly issues by the web plus 12 months on line access to IWC archives and forum
Unknown no of subscribers to his site. 1600 Twitter followers
Trade and expert amateur
Robert Parker

erobertparker.com
@RobertMParkerJr

Comprehensive subscriber based web site, not focused on any particular country or region. Stephen is the leader but has a  team supporting him

Subscriber only
$99 pa. Web site only - no print available
65,000+ subscribers to erobertparker.com. 54,000 Twitter followers
Trade, expert and enthusiastic amateur
Tim Atkin

timatkin.com
@timatkin

Comprehensive free (generally) web site with features, reports and tastings. Tim charges for specific tasting reports

Advertising and individual payment for reports
Free. Certain reports can be purchased for £10-20
Unknown no of subscribers to timatkin.com. 28,000 Twitter followers
Expert and enthusiastic amateurs

This is just a small sample of the world’s critics. There are plenty of other critics and writers who could have been included.

Read on: The Wine Critic's Critic part 2

The Wine Critic's Critic part 2. How I rate the world's best critics using my 100 point scale

So where is the science behind my 100 point scale?

I have reviewed my top 10’s web sites and blogs (which contain most of their tasting notes, commentaries and reviews) and scored them using the following criteria and scores:

1.     Quality of web site (look, functionality and ease of use): up to 15 points
2.     Ability to inform the consumer (regular updates on news and events): up to 15 points
3.     Ability to educate the consumer (depth and breadth of content): up to 15 points
4.     Ability to entertain the consumer (so the information and education is easy to assimilate and enjoy): up to 15 points
5.     Quality of tasting notes (content, style, intelligibility): up to 15 points
6.     Overall impression: ability to communicate with their target audience: up to 25 points.

Therefore, I am scoring more than just their tasting notes. I am critiquing their overall ability to communicate effectively with their audiences. My scores also reflect how they compare to each other so out of this will emanate a ranking. I recognize that they are often covering different areas and different consumers and with different resources but consumers like rankings so they will be useful.

The overall scores will be allocated as follows:

Classic (grade A*)
91-100
Outstanding (A)
81-90
Very good (B)
71-80
Average (C)
61-70
Belly wash (D, E,…)
Below 60

In the results, while I add up the scores for each criterion and given a grand total, I think the individual scores against each of the six criteria are more meaningful because each site has different strengths and weaknesses, and may be targeting different consumers. My results will show, for example, which sites are best for information vs education vs entertainment.


Consumer groups / target audiences
Having reviewed the 10 sites at length, the critics seem to be targeting four types of consumer groups: 1) the trade; 2) expert amateurs; 3) enthusiasts; 4) novices.

I know I am generalizing with these groups but I do think they are useful. The target audiences, to differing degrees, want to be informed, educated and entertained. They should determine what and how the critic communicates. I refer to these groups throughout my review.

The Trade: The trade represents the body of professionals in the wine business those who typically import and/or supply wines to the restaurants and consumers. They will subscribe to many of the 10 critics identified above.

The Expert Amateur: The expert amateur - I presumptuously put myself in this category - is the marketing man’s dream. We probably read or subscribe to all 10 of the critics. We will not only buy Decanter, La RVF (Revue de Vin Francais) and WS but will trawl the bookshelves looking for yet another tome (think Clive Coates’, Allen Meadows’ and Jasper Morris’ books on burgundy or JLL’s on the Rhone Valley) which explain not just the wines but every contour and nuance of hills, growers and vineyards. Our idea of a holiday is to go on a wine tasting and gastronomic trip to rural France (in my case places like Gigondas, Cote d’Or, Chateauneuf-du-Pape or Hermitage). We have voracious appetites and want to be constantly informed and educated. We are big tasters and drinkers of wines (to justify another important purchase, I cheekily remind my wife that I don’t indulge in cars, drugs or hookers, I do wine). We want to know it all now and they want more tomorrow. Maybe we are wannabe wine professionals who just don’t have the bottle to take the plunge.

The Enthusiast: The enthusiastic amateur takes an interest in wine and could take out paying subscriptions. He/she would prefer to buy their wine in a specialist boutique where they get specialist advice and more focused customer service.

The Novice: The novice is the person who watch Saturday kitchen and buy their wine at one of the major general or wine supermarkets (Tesco’s, Sainsbury’s, Majestic).


Results
I will release the reviews over the next few weeks starting. I will post them on:
·       Twitter: @dberesford12

Disclosure: my preferences
As I often reproach the critics for not offering up their personal preferences when tasting and scoring wine, I want to declare my preference for critics.

I like irreverent and contrarian critics, commentators and mavericks who challenge the status quo and refuse to subjugate themselves to conventional wisdom. I like writers who can embrace a wide range of tastes and styles and recognize and appreciate wines with a sense of place, not just those who espouse international formula.

I don’t look for perfection and definitive conclusions in tasting notes. But I do look for colour and passion in the writing, not just knowledge and experience. I want to be stimulated too. I want the writer to reveal the life and soul of the wines. I am as interested in the context (stories, history, food, people, sport – their whole culture) of wine as much as what is in the glass because this conveys so much more to me than the simple recital of intricate flavours and aromas.  Drinking wine is about the whole experience not just smelling, tasting and dissecting it. Great wines should pose as many questions as answers as they are constantly evolving.

Therefore, before I pass go and offer you my monologue, please remember that these are my personal, subjective views. Feel free to take them with a pinch of salt, in the same way that I treat the critics’ tasting notes and scores. This posting is meant to be a mix of the humorous and serious. I greatly admire the work of all of them, which is why they made my top 10.


Saturday, 7 December 2013

My date with Domaine de la Grange des Pères, Aniane, France


This is real, authentic, love-infused wine-making.

My heart was racing as I turned off the dusty road near the town of Aniane in the south of France. A weathered sign pointed reluctantly in its direction suggesting that visitors were either unexpected, unwelcome or both. I was on a blind date, but my target wasn’t aware of my imminent arrival.

Ostensibly, I was en route to watch a game of rugby in Montauban, but I couldn’t resist the lure of dropping in on one of my favourite growers, the fabled Domaine de la Grange des Pères. I remember using the term ‘dropping in’ then as it made me feel more comfortable, like one ‘drops in’ on an old family friend, but deep down I felt uneasy although the feeling wasn’t strong enough to stop me. I admit it openly – I’m in love with this domaine and its region, and I convinced myself that all is fair in love and war.

Just say it out loud: Domaine de la Grange des Pères. It rolls off the tongue mellifluously like honey trickling from a spoon. Overlay the regional accent du midi and the sound becomes even easier on the ear. For me, these sounds personify the south of France and evoke powerful memories of a time when I lived in the Vaucluse, a neighbouring départment.

In a little over 20 years, la Grange des Pères has entered the pantheon of great French wine domaines, its small stock exhausted swiftly by thirsty and lucky buyers. I had enjoyed their wines over the years (if I could find them), read about Alain, Bernard and Laurent Vaillé, and knew they had a reputation for being reserved and unreceptive to impromptu visits, but this just raised the stakes and piqued my excitement. I knew this would be a test of my character, French language and people skills, but I thrived on situations like this. My elevator pitch was ready.

I eventually found the domaine. The grange or barn itself was on the left, signaled by a garnet-coloured sign on an impressive limestone rock. I drove past it and turned left along a narrow track to their house which was a large but unassuming villa fronted by an imposing set of iron gates. The rusty doorbell was next to a small, hand-made, yellow sign confirming that the house was indeed part of la Grange des Pères. I felt nervous, as if I were gauchely intruding and would be rebuffed with a volley of French patois.

I didn’t even have time to ring their doorbell before Alain, the father, appeared. He was small with pointed features and was dressed in cool denim under the searing heat of the midday sun. He was chewing food. It suddenly dawned on me that I had committed one of France’s gravest sins and interrupted his lunch. Life, I thought, was about to get even harder.

“Bonjour monsieur, excusez-moi de vous déranger”, I stuttered. “Est-ce que vous faites des dégustations?” “Non”, he deadpanned, “nous ne les faisons pas”.

I had blown it. In a moment of excitement and nerves, I had forgotten to show empathy or willingness to engage him first. I had reduced the occasion to the merely functional and rather bluntly requested ‘a tasting’. As though my very existence depended on it, the adrenaline kicked in. I suddenly remembered my elevator pitch which consisted of telling him, in my best midi-accented French, how I used to live in Avignon, play rugby for Chateauneuf-du-Pape, date a French girl from Marseille and drink copious amounts of French wine. Now, I knew his wine, bought it, evangelised about it, drank it and loved it. I spoke passionately about la Grange des Pères - to its maker for goodness’ sake! My eyes implored him to let me in. It worked.

“Revenez après le déjeuner et je vous ferai une dégustation”, he said smiling.

I was ecstatic. I remember that feeling as I made the short drive to Aniane for lunch. The lunch wasn’t memorable for its quality or quantity, but the anticipation had suppressed my appetite. Afterwards, Alain met me at the grange and we spent over two hours tasting his 2006 red in barrique, the cabernet sauvignon, syrah and mourvèdre wines all separated.

I drooled over their quality and the setting. They were all rich, powerful and magnificent even if they were unfinished. His wines, like those of le Domaine de Trevallon (where Laurent, Alain’s youngest son, had trained under the tutelage of the great Eloi Dürrbach), have a distinct flavour and perfume which I rarely taste anywhere else.

La Grange des Pères is a combination of wild garrigue herbs, black fruits, freshness and meatiness. That day, each cépage brought something to the wine: the cabernet brought tautness and freshness; the syrah black fruits, meatiness and garrigue herbs; the mourvèdre some cherry, spice, earth and gaminess. Typically, the final blend also contains small quantities of counoise and petit verdot which enhance the freshness, fragrance and complexity.

We must have been tasting for an hour when Laurent came by, shook my hand and exchanged a few pleasantries, but he wasn’t one for making small talk. He was a shy man in a hurry as he sped past the grange and into the house. Alain, on the other hand, was very talkative and I had to drag myself away, very reluctantly, to get to that rugby match.

All this had happened in 2008 so in early July this year, I dropped in again. There was no point in calling or emailing or tweeting ahead because I knew that wasn’t the way they worked.

This time I tracked Alain down at the grange and he gave me the same generous welcome he had done five years before. He was again denim-clad, obviously older, but looking slim and very fit for a septuagenarian. Under the high sun, I could feel the sun prickling my head as we walked into the cool grange where we chatted for another two hours.

Rather than walk me through the wines this time, he told me all about his family. Bernard, his eldest son, had struggled at school due to poor teaching and become the family’s mechanical genius, able to resurrect old second hand farm machinery. Alain’s father was a marksman able to kill a wild boar at a hundred metres without sights. Laurent is the winemaking genius, constantly searching for improvement. They would like to buy more land to grow more roussanne and marsanne so they can increase production of their legendary white wine, but another local family owns the ideal site. They have stopped adding chardonnay to their whites because the wild boars eat the grapes before they can harvest them.

I bought one of the last cases of their 2010 red for cash which is now maturing in a generous friend’s cellar in the Pyrenees, but they had already exhausted their whites. Inside each case, they place a bay leaf and sprig of thyme, redolent of the warm, garrigue perfume. Laurent thinks his reds are best after a decade of cellaring, but says people who like them young should drink them earlier as there are no set rules for personal taste. Whatever the critics say, taste is in the mouth of the beholder and essentially subjective. It will be some time before I drink mine, assuming my friend doesn’t beat me to it which is entirely possible.

After a couple of very pleasant and memorable hours, I thanked Alain for his time, promised to return in the near future and drove to a restaurant he had recommended near Pic Saint Loup. Surrounded by the chattering cigales and seated under a glorious micocoulier tree which protected me from the high afternoon sun, I enjoyed a slow, late lunch of prawns à la japonaise (yes, even in the deep south of France), beef from the Aubrac region and local cheeses, washed down with a bottle of Mas Julien white (only because the restaurant didn’t have the very rare la Grange des Pères). Life doesn’t get much better than this, I thought.

Like Thierry Allemand of Cornas or Eloi Dürrbach of Trevallon, la Grange des Pères encapsulates everything I love about this type of wine making – artistry, passion, longevity, simplicity, humility, hard work and determination. The Vaillés represent the very antithesis of the quick-fix, blingy and ‘look-at-me’ culture. They cultivate wines not publicity. They just want to make great wines with an enduring sense of terroir.


If you are passionate about this wine and your French is up to it (complete fluency essential) and you don’t mind knocking on strangers’ doors, you could drop in to see them. On the off chance you track them down, you will have an unforgettable experience.