Do Not Homogenize

Anyone that has been to a wine tasting I've hosted has heard me say that I'm opinionated and I revere different opinions because they keep things interesting. There needs to be lots of different wines with lots of different flavors, aromas, and styles. At least that's what keeps me interested, and what I find lacking in so many portfolios that seem to have the indelible thumbprint of an owner, winemaker, or importer. Each wine seems to be a snapshot in a sequence up and down a small range of flavors that really only varies between price, intensity, and color. That's right, you didn't miss anything there, I don't even find a lot of difference between the varietals, sad, sad , sad. Luckily for me, there are some importers with the courage to let the vineyards and vintners they been fortunate to work with be their own unique wines. Two that I have some intimate knowledge of are Kermit Lynch and Robert Haas. Bravo, Monsieurs!

This diversity is what we all need to keep our winelists and shelves interesting and most importantly, customers shopping. The curiosity of the palate demands that flavors be new and interesting. When are the producers, losing business in droves, going to learn this? This isn't usually an angry consumer, it's a bored consumer. Shame on anyone for resting on their laurels.

I visited 2 veterans of Cornas in the Northern Rhone, one of the world's treasured, but most demanding appellations for Syrah. August Clape and his sons do nothing more than pour themselves into each bottle of Cornas. No tricks here, just great fruit and a few lined cement tanks and huge old barrels. And year after year, with vintage variation that justifiably expresses that year's weather, you can pour a glass of their passion and taste their tiny parcels soil and Syrah. Thierry Allemand's reputation as superstar would lead many to believe they'd walk in his winery and see rows of new barriques. Nope, his barrels are 600 liter giants and the youngest one is 12 years old! These wines are rare and the vintages I tried back to '89 showed me they deserve a place in every serious cellar, lack of new oak and all.

It has been a while since I met a young agent of change, but Friday afternoon I think I met a future rock star, David Alexander Gallety of Domaine Gallety. Located in the Cotes du Vivirais, which many consider the dividing line between north and south in the Rhone, father and son toil this wild patch of vines to make a precocious and vibrant Grenache/Syrah blend. This winery screams "Look at me!" like a fun-loving child. I haven't felt as strongly about a Rhone find since I tasted D'Andezon in 1996. Just rereading my notes and thinking about that wine puts a smile on my face. I'll sign off on that note.