My love of wine runs very deep and if you’re reading this, yours probably is too. Great wine in and of itself, however, is not the end of it. Because wine is so multidimensional there is seemingly endless amounts of information available and I enjoy the cerebral, academic, and intellectual aspects of wine almost as much as having it in my mouth. Almost.  

From an academic point of view, a recurring theme that can provoke various reactions from me has to do with how accurately a wine’s name is pronounced, or the name of a region, vineyard, or a wine term but my reaction depends on the person speaking. If it is someone that’s intentionally not knowledgeable about wine or is just starting out with wine that mispronounces a wine name, it is completely forgivable. If someone is selling wine at retail, not so much. If the person speaking is even deeper in the trade such as a sommelier, the affront becomes more serious yet. I don’t want to come across inimical in any way but professionals absolutely cannot afford to mispronounce these words although I hear it very frequently in every single corner of America.

A few months ago I was looking for anything on the Internet that would help me learn how to properly pronounce the Champagne brand, Mumm (not Mumm Napa). Because I speak a bit of French I seriously doubted it would be pronounced, as it would seem, few French words are. From a Google search, I came upon this site that had a list of Champagne producers and I was suddenly in pronunciation heaven. From a list of eleven Champagne producers, I was horrified to discover I was pronouncing only four of them correctly; Mumm was not one of them. Granted, Champagne is not my wheelhouse but still!

And so began a collaborative project that I have been dreaming about for years: a central repository of pronunciations for the world of fine wines. This is a HUGE and remarkable resource for anyone that loves wine, teaches wine, sells it, writes or talks about it, or is a professional in the trade. No one has set out to do what Marie-Ora de Villiers is doing with her website, www.howdoyousaythatword.com. It is a formidable commitment to make and she has not only stepped up to get it done but has also in the process done everything with great integrity and painstaking attention to detail to ensure that this is the definitive, most reliable source for the correct pronunciation of French wine names. 

Initially, we started with, of course, Classified Bordeaux and will eventually get into the Grand Cru vineyards of Burgundy along with other important wine regions in France. Perhaps Madame de Villiers will even venture into other regions of the world but for Americans, French is certainly the most difficult to master in terms of pronunciation. In addition to wine related pronunciations there are great resources for food and travel as well so I’m positive you’ll want to bookmark this growing treasure-of-a-site and refer to it often.

Marie-Ora is a person for whom I have great respect for many reasons, but not the least of which is due to her substantial accomplishments. She is extremely erudite in the fields of languages, law, writing, food, wine, and travel, to name a few. And she is so great to work with that my part of the collaboration has seemed like a walk in the park (with a ’61 Latour). For more fascinating insight about Marie-Ora’s world, please read on:

When did you start your website?

I started toying with the website way back in 2007. I didn't know anything about the net, and it stalled a couple of times. My salvation was learning more about the technical aspects of website design, and discovering Wordpress, as well as finding a really great designer who could implement all my ideas. The site was only properly released around February 2012. I have a stubborn streak, and I don't give up easily.

Was there any particular event that happened when you recognized there was a need for people to have a resource for pronunciation?

Yes, I'd been laid up after an accident and I started watching a lot of the UK cooking programs. I'd studied languages, and I couldn't believe that someone at the BBC couldn't find out the correct pronunciation of so many of the words they were broadcasting. France is just over the Channel, there are loads of people who speak French in the UK, and the presenters were making mistakes - lots of them. With other languages, like Spanish, I could see exactly where they were going wrong. You often hear people saying Spanish words with Italian pronunciation, and so on. They know some rules in some languages, but they misapply them. Because I've studied 8 languages at university level, I can easily pick up that type of error, and predict where English speakers are likely to go wrong.

When did you get into wine?

I spent a lot of time in Europe growing up. Part of my family is Italian, so wine was a part of any special meal and weekend lunches and dinners. As kids, we always had a splash of Chianti in our glasses - it sounds outrageous to some now, but it was normal, and you learned to enjoy wine for itself and not as a vehicle for inebriation. The first time I tried Château d'Yquem was a revelation  - it was in Zurich, years ago. I thought I had discovered the Nectar of the Gods. 

You did! And Champagne also seems like a favorite region of yours. Are there any other types of wine you are particularly fond of?

I do like Champagne, I must say, although all are not created equal. I'm a great fan of Veuve Clicquot. I also particularly enjoy Merlot varietals. Chablis is another favorite.  There are some fabulous South African wines that are my staples, especially our excellent Pinotage blends and Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon varietals.

What is your background?

I was born in the north of Namibia - it's a very remote region. The only point of international interest is the Hoba meteorite, which is the largest metal meteorite in the world, and which was on the family farm. There was no television and radio, so I grew up with a great love of reading, nature, and classical music, which was the only kind of music we had at home. I come from a long line of truly excellent cooks - my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother were all legendary. We had a full set of the Time Life 'Foods of the World' series - I still have them, and I loved going through them as a child. So there is a strong attachment to food and wine that formed very early in my life. Academically, my undergraduate degree was in languages. I majored in French and Spanish, and my minor was German. I also have a postgraduate degree in law, but I have no interest in practicing. I had the opportunity of pursuing a Masters in French or Spanish, and I regret not taking that route.

How did your attraction to languages come about?

As I said, I was born in Namibia, but I went to school in South Africa, and as a family we spent a fair amount of time in Europe. I have recent German, Italian and Austrian blood, and going back, French and Dutch, among a few others. In Namibia, I only spoke English with my family and a few close friends. I went to a German Kindergarten, and everyone else in Namibia only spoke Afrikaans. My grandfather was Italian. So I've always been around different languages and cultures. When I started school, I had a German accent. My mother sent me for years of elocution to eliminate that. But that accent made me hyperconscious of my pronunciation, which created a life-long interest in the subject.

In what part of the world are you currently living? Is there anything special about it or anything that helps you with your website?

I live in South Africa, but many of my close friends are first language French and Italian speakers. The thing about South Africa is that we are exposed to a lot of the USA and the UK here, so I have a familiarity with those countries that someone living in for example, California, would not have about South Africa, or even the UK. I think my family background is the most helpful aspect - if I had grown up speaking only English, I doubt I would have had the same insight and awareness of the problems English speakers face when trying to speak foreign words.

There is an enormous amount of misinformation on the Internet. How do you ensure that you don’t become part of that?

I never take anything on the Internet as gospel. I have a lot of books - my office is piled high with dictionaries, books on wine, Larousse Gastronomique (I have uncovered errors in my edition), Escoffier, and so on. I never use a single source of information. I spend a ridiculous amount of time on some entries - I can't help myself there - if I can't get it clear in my own head, I feel uncomfortable putting it on my site. I often just have to compromise though, but I will frequently go back and rework entries as I find more information. And I'm very grateful to my readers who sometimes have personal insight and share it. 

If a word or a winery name is not completely clear to you, how do you go about obtaining the proper pronunciation?

Skype! I phone around, if not the company, I get hold of friends in Europe and make them ask around if they aren't sure. For wine pronunciations, I phone the actual châteaux and ask. I also check all their websites, and there are some truly awful wine websites. The French really do love Flash, and you can lose the will to live while waiting for everything to load up. 

Because America is a ‘melting pot’ with so many different cultures, there are definite differences in how people speak between regions. Someone from Boston will have a different accent than someone from Austin. Or someone growing up in society’s upper class of London will sound different than someone growing up with a Cockney accent. How does this work in French? Do the French people also have different accents based on region?

Most definitely! European accents vary dramatically. This is what makes it so hard for students of foreign languages. You get your degree, and when you arrive in Europe, you don't understand a word anyone is saying. Of course this happens to English students as well. They have learned 'hello, how are you' and then they are confronted with 'what's up'. This is exactly what happens with French and so on. They will understand you if your grammar and pronunciation are adequate, but you will struggle to follow them. Also, you must remember dialects. There are numerous dialects, which have very different vocabulary and grammar. There is no way you will understand most of them without living in the actual regions where they are spoken.

If there are regional differences, how do you deal with this for pronunciations on your website?

All European languages have an academy or institute that teaches the formal, standardized accent and grammar of a language. This is what you learn at university, and what every school child in Europe learns at school, regardless of what dialect or accent they have at home. I stick to the formal language, unless there is a definite reason not to. You can't just blindly follow rules, you have to look at convention too. For instance, the final 's' in 'pastis' should be silent according to traditional French pronunciation rules, but this is a well-established exception, so I follow that. Saying 'pastee' is wrong and indefensible.

I always tell users of my site to remember that there is a difference between pronunciation and accent, and this is critical to my approach. Pronunciation is how that word is correctly said, and this can vary wildly from the orthography of a word. For instance, look at the English words 'bough' and 'cough'. Whether you speak with the Queen's English, or with a Texan accent, you are never going to pronounce 'cough' like 'cow'. That mispronunciation makes the word incomprehensible - it sounds like you are talking about something entirely different. 

When people sneer at pronunciation as being 'pretentious' they don't realize that if you don't pronounce words in a language correctly, you can easily be talking gibberish or worse. There are a lot of words, particularly in Italian that have obscene meanings when you mispronounce them. You want to get the pronunciation right. However, I don't believe in altering your accent at all. Unless you have really studied a language you sound pretentious when affecting a French accent in an English setting. And it's hard to pull off without a lot of practice. 

For this reason, I give phonetic pronunciation as well as audio of the word with an authentic accent. Each user has to find a happy medium between the two, so that they are correct in their pronunciation, but still speaking with their own accent - exactly as you would when saying 'cough' and 'bough'. You are looking for substantial correctness, not perfection.

What are your goals or what ideally would you like to accomplish with your site?

I really hope that I demystify the pronunciation of foreign (and many English) words. There is a veneer of 'class' and 'worldliness' attached to knowing the correct pronunciation of a wine, for example. And people who don't know it, and I have spoken to many people about it, can feel quite embarrassed and even defensive about that. There is a perception that you have to learn a language or have traveled to be able to pronounce words from it. It's not true. 

I wanted to create a reference where people could reliably learn how to pronounce a word on their own, as well as get a snap-shot of what it's about and where it comes from. Moët et Chandon, for instance, is one of those words that people always argue about the pronunciation of: do you pronounce the 't' or not? Just throwing in audio and phonetic spelling of the correct pronunciation doesn't address that. For that reason, I mention the history of the name, and give a reason why Moët is an exception to French pronunciation.

I want the user to get a complete picture. I like to give some detail and background on entries, as far as is possible, so that if a user needs to sound like he/she knows what they are talking about, they have just enough. I had some MBA students who had never traveled to Europe that I helped out a short while. They felt awkward when they had to do corporate entertaining. It was so gratifying to be able to help them feel more confident and at home with food and wine. This is a part of life that is meant to be enjoyed. It shouldn't be intimidating.

I get a lot of queries - I've even been asked to check the pronunciation of a dog's name - the owner had rescued him from a shelter. I love getting queries from readers: I'll answer anything from the most expensive champagne, to a question from someone learning English and wanting a basic word explained. I have contacts in most places, and I have access to a lot of native speakers across Europe who are immensely helpful – I’ve dug up Icelandic and Croatian, so anything goes.

I’m completely impressed! I cannot thank you enough for providing such a great service to the world of fine wine and beyond. You have been fantastic throughout and I wish you great and continued success with your site!

What I mean by the title is that when it comes to wine, for the most part there is no such thing as a silly question. Many years ago before I even considered studying wine, I used to think, ‘How tough can it be to understand this? It’s just a bunch of fermented grape juice. Simple’. Later when I began to get serious about wine I understood just how wrong my sophomoric attitude was.

Wine is indeed a very technically complicated subject and the deeper I ventured into the field the more I realized how little we actually know about wine. Scientifically, the collective knowledge has increased exponentially only in the past two or three decades. Except for the wineries of the world that have been in existence for centuries, in times past, winemakers were really just farmers who happened to also make wine. They may have had some experience with soil and plants but if a farmer’s wine turned out good in any particular vintage, it was mostly due to blind luck, not depth of knowledge or science. We’re just now getting caught up on a basic understanding of how it all works and many mysteries remain. From the weather, to the inner workings of vines, to the chemical reactions of virtually everything that happens in the winemaking and aging process, from bud break to glass is plethora of events waiting to go wrong.

When someone begins with the phrase, ‘this is a silly question’, most of the time it really isn’t at all silly. Nearly anyone that fields questions in public forums such as Wine Spectator or Local Wine Events.com will tell you that the most asked question goes something like this: I found an old bottle of 1973 Château Dos Equis Reserva in my late great grandfather’s coat closet. Is it worth a lot of money? Those questions often do seem silly to me because they are not about wine at all, they are questions about, did I strike it rich? The odds of an average person stumbling across a bottle of Château Lafite Rothschild 1875 or a Château d’Yquem 1811 that has been stored in complete darkness at 55 degrees Fahrenheit in 70% humidity are infinitesimally small. I would dare to guess that the odds of winning the lotto once a year for twenty years in a row is more likely. But real questions about wine are not silly and I encourage everyone to ask them, no matter how simple they may seem. All of us start somewhere in our pursuit of wine knowledge and should never be embarrassed in our quest for more information or understanding. I am inquisitive myself and I never intend to stop asking questions.

I was recently asked a very non-silly question and wanted to elaborate with this post because, although I could provide a simple one-sentence answer, like most things concerning wine, we have to dig deeper to arrive at a true understanding. The question from someone I respect and has a good amount of wine experience is: Why do Bordeaux reds seem to drink well long after they are opened? Some Bordeaux red wines, even a week after I've opened them will taste just fine, certainly not as good as the first or second day, but often I find New World wines undrinkable after two or three days at the most. The simple answer is that Bordeaux ages so well, whether in an opened bottle for four or five days, or in an unopened bottle for twenty or thirty years, because of it’s structure.

If we break down the major components of red wine, today’s wine is roughly 80% water, 15% alcohol, and 5% ‘other’ elements. Those other elements are a very important part of a wine’s structure and include acidity, glycerol, and phenolic compounds, (there are small amounts of other elements in this 5% like sulfites, that are not considered part of the structure of wine). Wine phenols consist of, in part, tannins from grape skins, grape seeds, sometimes grape stalks, and oak barrels if used, along with color pigments also derived from the grapes’ skins. Structure is due mostly to that 5% of other elements and within the context of modern winemaking structure is, by design, added or diminished depending on the wine company, their market goals, and even philosophy about wine. And as with almost any discussion about wine, it all starts in the vineyard.

The value of vineyard management and also low yielding old vines becomes obvious when considering the resulting concentration of phenols due to a higher skin to pulp ratio of small berries, thereby increasing not only depth of color but increasing tannins. Although the ‘type’ of wine determined by each winery is based on many factors that are outside the scope of this post, goals are set for vineyard management technics that are most likely to meet the needs of the winery, which includes how each finished wine will be structured. After vineyard considerations, it's up to the winemaker to determine the wine's course and its outcome. 

Tannins are a crucial component of red wine because of its superior properties as an antioxidant. Really this post would not be complete without at least mentioning oxygen, which is an element that is ironic because it is both necessary for wine’s production and aging, yet oxygen can also completely irreversibly damage wine. In other words, there’s a fine line between clever and stupid. During the initial barrel aging process that takes place after fermentation, cellar masters will top off each barrel with wine to eliminate air that finds its way into the container mostly due to very slow evaporation (the missing wine is often referred to as the angels share). The wine is exposed to minute amounts of oxygen during barrel aging through microscopic gaps in the barrels’ staves and even the cells of the wood. This small amount of oxygen facilitates the wine’s development until the winemaker deems the wine ready to be bottled. To leave air in the barrel will eventually cause the wine to oxidize, of course producing a flawed wine. Most wines are racked to separate the clear juice from sediment, which exposes it to even more oxygen. In many châteaux in Bordeaux, these topping up and racking processes are a daily task that takes several burly men about three months from start to finish to get through all of the barrels. By the time the last barrel is topped up, it’s time to start at the beginning again.

Aging wine in bottles only differs in that topping up does not occur again (unless a special old bottle is taken to the winery for the sake of preservation, a very rare occasion). In the bottle molecules of oxygen reach the wine by moving up in molecular sized spaces between the cork and the neck of the glass bottle. Again, this is a good thing and it is how wine evolves with age. Eventually, an age worthy wine that is tannic when bottled will have those tannins attach to the color compounds in red wine until they are so heavy, they drop out of solution, which is how aged wine softens and becomes rounder over time. Be warned, however, that not every tannic young wine will improve with age, simply because it has a lot of tannins present. In fact most will not improve with age unless it was made for aging. Having an out of balance overly tannic wine and having a wine with good structure are two different things.

But here’s the answer to the question: not every winery wants to make age worthy wines and in fact, most so-called ‘new world’ wineries intentionally create the opposite of age worthy wines. Most new world wines, which include California, take extreme measures to ensure their wines are drinkable upon release or close to it. Technologies employed such as micro-oxygenation equipment, reverse osmosis, and spinning cone columns all manipulate wines in many ways in which the public generally is unaware. Yes, there are these technologies used in Europe as well but probably to a much lesser degree than new world wine regions (most wineries don't like to talk about this openly). The desired effect is to soften tannins, reduce acidity from the effects of a cold vintage, manage alcohol levels from very ripe or overripe grapes, remove water to concentrate the wine, add acidity in hot vintages (doesn’t require machinery, per se), and take away all of the potential harshness of wine so it is nearly palatable to baby kittens. In this age of instant gratification who wants to spend a small fortune on wine, only to have to wait for fifteen years or more to drink it? The net result of all of this is that many of the elements that protect wine over time, are now extracted from the wine to meet market and commercial expectations – a very sad state of affairs to me.

Good quality Bordeaux will age well and with that age will often develop wonderful secondary and tertiary flavor and aroma profiles with nuances that cannot be found in younger wines, all the while softening and becoming rounder and fuller with time, at least for a while. The aging process is only possible due to the wine’s structure. Remove that structure and there is no protection available for a wine to fend off the inevitable effects of oxygen. I have experienced inexpensive new world wines that were completely flat and beginning to oxidize in twenty or thirty minutes after being opened. The first couple of sips had some life but after that, the air just deconstructed the wine as it sat in my glass. One of the most important issues of removing a wine’s structure is that it creates a sort of homogenization that ends up tasting just like every other new world wine out there, all lacking individuality and character, indistinguishable from all the others including its grape variety, vintage, and region/country of origin; just another cola!

I have read with horror on numerous occasions, usually on Cellartracker, where someone will open a bottle of twenty five year old Bordeaux and decant it for 8 hours, or 24 hours, or three days and then complain about what a disappointment the wine was. Of course at that age there is usually not much structure left so the wine becomes easily oxidized and is unpleasant to drink. Conversely, there are those that open very young Bordeaux upon release and experience its harshness of tannins and acidity and then fail to understand how anyone could enjoy Bordeaux. In vintages like 2009 and 2010, many wines from the Bordeaux region can be drunk young and thoroughly enjoyed, or they can be aged as well, but it is a rare vintage that allows this to happen; it is only coincidental that two years in a row produced such amazing wines. But as a general rule, most good quality Bordeaux (Classified Bordeaux) should be aged for 6 – 8 years upon release and the best of them such as First Growth Bordeaux should not be touched for at least 15 years.

The short answer to the question is that Bordeaux lasts longer in an open bottle than a new world wine because it has structure providing antioxidant properties that new world wines have removed. I know. Way too much information, but I didn’t want to be a slacker and just dole the short version. Thanks Dennis - and every reader should feel free to send me wine questions anytime.

David Boyer

Regardless of what types of wine you enjoy most, you can’t help but have heard the loud and continuous pounding of the drum regarding the 2009 and 2010 Bordeaux vintages. To some, this pounding is analogous to having a major headache. To Bordeaux aficionados, it is like resplendent music to the ear. Why? Because it means there is some truly spectacular wine coming on deck and as with all great vintages, many of these wines can be drunk young or cellared for thirty years, plus. 

In the spring of 2011, I received an invitation from the Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux to taste the 2010 vintage in Bordeaux. The raison d'être of UGCB is to function as a public relations agency for its members, which consists of a nearly complete who’s who of Classified châteaux. The few auspicious châteaux not on the list presumably need no PR. Nonetheless, I went to barrel taste the 2010 vintage and many 2009s while I was there, both Left Bank and Right Bank. These vintages are not hyperbole. 

In great vintages, virtually everything gets amplified to an appreciable degree; indeed wines that have remained below the radar are suddenly on the screen because they became good enough to be noticed. Consistently Bordeaux (and perhaps all) winemakers are not surprisingly reticent about comparing their wines by vintage, and tend to think of each of them as their little darlings no matter what. When pushed, however, they will shower accolades upon certain vintages. Conversely, critics and writers like to compare vintages, as do collectors, connoisseurs, and fine wine merchants. So to pin winemakers down a bit with these latest vintages, all of them say pretty much say the same thing, which goes something like this: ‘the weather conditions created perfection in the vineyards to the extent that you’d have to be extraordinarily mentally challenged to make a bad or even mediocre wine in vintages like ’09 and ’10’.

Further, the ’09 and ’10 vintages have many of the attributes similar to ’45, ’59, ‘ 61 and to some extent ’82, whereas they can be drunk upon release with great pleasure, and continue to be great all the way through decades of cellaring. Bordeaux from lesser vintages often requires long cellaring times before they are even approachable due to the wine’s structure typically being so big and, in poor vintages, they need to be consumed early because they lack structure and therefore will not likely age well. With structured wine it simply takes time for tannins to attach to phenolic compounds and finally drop out of solution (this is the sediment found in older bottles that you don’t want to end up in your glass), which softens the wine. Acidity is a whole other issue but we definitely don’t want it to diminish with age because acidity is what provides freshness and the sense of youthfulness in wine. A wine without acidity is just ‘flabby’ and tastes flat and lifeless, often due to grapes that become too ripe causing acidity to be markedly less than desirable. 

The point is that we have two spectacular vintages back-to-back that raise generally lower rated wines to goodness and sometimes even greatness. The controversy will wage on for decades about which vintage is better, similar to what’s happening today between the ’89 and ’90 and the ’95 and ’96 vintages. It certainly makes for great conversation and really nobody wins or looses the argument, especially when these wines are opened and compared side by side. Still it is generally agreed by most everyone that both of the vintages subject to this post are considered to eclipse the aforementioned vintages and maybe even the mythical ‘61. Only time will tell.

Currently many ‘09s are coming in to retail and most of the ‘10s will be available in less than a year from now, although a few of the lesser known ‘10s are presently trickling in. This is a windfall for Bordeaux lovers because many Second Growth Bordeaux and even some of the other Classified Bordeaux will rival that of many vintages of First Growth Bordeaux. Yes, a Second that costs $350 seems expensive but it is much closer to stealing compared to paying $1200 - $1500 for a bottle of First Growth. Not that that $1500 isn’t worth it. As an example of the greatness of these vintages, the 2010 vintage of Château Lynch Bages was completely mind-blowing in its complexity, approachability, nuance, pureness, aromas and flavors. This is of course a Fifth Growth that in this vintage tastes like a very good vintage First Growth. I think I wrote this about the 2010 Lynch Bages months ago and respected wine critic James Suckling recently concurred by giving this wine a score of 99 points. And there are many others like this.

The most difficult part of owning these truly great wines will be keeping the cork in the bottle. I found both of these vintages to be absolutely seductive and extremely compelling, even extremely young so be warned: these will be easy to drink and therefore, easy to own none of them in fifteen or twenty years. To me the ’09s are perhaps a little more flamboyant but the ‘10s displayed this remarkable purity of fruit and definition that I have never before tasted, yet alone from barrel samples. Also there will be a number of bottles in the $20 - $50 range that are certainly worth buying by the case as everyday wines. Of course you need to buy a bottle first and taste it before committing to case purchases but if you like Bordeaux even a little, don’t miss this once-or-twice-in-a-lifetime opportunity to buy up these amazing wines - you’ll thank yourself many times over.

Here’s a smattering of prices and scores to consider:

WA = Wine Advocate, JS = James Suckling, WS = Wine Spectator

Please note: the 2010s listed here at this time are en premeur (sold as futures) and priced as such.  All prices displayed are per .750 ml bottle and were obtained from reputable and various merchants. Also most 2010s are expressed as ranges of scores because they are for the most part not yet finished (bottled) wines.

I’d love to hear your impressions about these undeniably great vintages as they unfold over the years and as always, I wish you great and rewarding wine experiences!

David Boyer 

Shameless, as in Showtime’s white trash ghetto family that gets by in life by conning other people; America’s marketers apparently have absolutely no idea how egregious their most recent initiative is to wine lovers of the world. This group is attempting to surreptitiously sell US wine in European Union markets labeled with the words Château and Clos, effectively hoodwinking unsuspecting consumers into buying their US wares. How could anyone think this is okay? The fine print of course must disclose that it is a product of the US but most people don’t read the fine print when making a wine purchasing decision. This issue is not about trade between countries, it is about greed and duplicity.

First, a very petit French lesson is needed for context. The literal translation of the French word château means ‘castle’ and the word clos (of course pronounced without the s on the end) means ‘closed’ in English. But forget about those meanings for now and step into the wine world. Here château means that the grapes were grown and bottled by the estate with a very strong reference to Bordeaux, and clos means the grapes came from a vineyard that has a wall built around it, typically associated with the Burgundy region. These words, although they have generic dictionary definitions, represent brands insofar as wine consumers are concerned. They are very celebrated places from which many of the world’s greatest wines are grown and vinified. 

For American wineries hoping to enter into Europe using those words on their labels and to eradicate the definitions of them as understood by Europeans for centuries, is only a fraction away from being criminal. I am often confounded by the remarkable lack of scruples found in American business but this really goes over the edge. Not only does this move have no ethical fabric attached, but also it’s down right dishonest and deceitful to represent products improperly to consumers. Does anyone think for a second that if France wanted to use the words ‘Nappa’ or ‘Sonohma’, on their labels that it would be allowed? Some people would realize the words are misspelled but many wouldn’t necessarily catch it and this is essentially what these marketers want to do. Is that fair competition? It is utterly without merit and has no place in the wine industry.

Who are these people wishing to perpetrate such fraud on the public? The trade group (read: lobbyist) WineAmerica is behind this push, which is surprising because this group has in the past actually spearheaded and influenced some very positive changes for the US wine industry. With some 800 members nationwide their mission is ‘to encourage the dynamic growth and development of American wineries and winegrowing through the advancement and advocacy of sound public policy’. Is this a joke? Ripping off consumers and expropriating centuries old and established branding are considered sound public policy? I’m incensed at this group’s arrant lack of respect for consumers, cultures, and even wine itself. Further, do we really need solicit more inimical sentiment from the rest of the world?

Despite my last name being French on both sides of the family, I am an American, born and raised and so were both of my parents, although some of my grandparents were from the old country. This is not about my French heritage but rather it is about what is right and even more, about what is wrong. The very reason we are in such difficult economic times today has everything to do with American businesses severely lacking probity and principled, honorable dealings. Although I can’t imagine the European Union allowing this action, we live in tumultuous, unpredictable times and anything is possible these days. Such avarice as proposed by WineAmerica is untenable and wholly unacceptable.

David Boyer

Parsing through the numbers on the chart above is revealing and even amazing but it certainly doesn’t tell the whole story about being the owner of a classed growth Bordeaux. Because the Bordelais understandably tend to be hushed about their business affairs, my best guess is that the château itself retains at least a third of the retail release price. After all, there are brokers, négociants, and shippers to pay on the French side of the pond, and importers, distributors, and retailers to pay on this side, all of whom get a piece of the action, carving deeply into the margins of the winemaker.

Still a 33% take on $280 million a year sounds pretty good but operational costs also must be considered and they don’t come cheap. Certainly one of the things that contribute to the greatness of these estates is their vineyards and the meticulous care given to the vines and soil. The cost of manual labor involved in tending the vineyards all year around is substantial, with one or more workers assigned to small parcels. Harvest can be a big expense too, especially for estates like Château d’Yquem, when some sections of the vineyard are ripe but others are not yet, so workers have to stay for up to eight weeks going through the vineyards a dozen or more times to get the grapes at their peak. These are skilled workers too because they have to be able to recognize noble rot, from gray rot, from acid rot and bring in only the appropriate bunches that are ready to be harvested. Or if the château has many acres under vine like at Lafite (264 acres), this labor cost becomes very expensive. Even buying new oak barrels every year can add up a million dollars or more. The winemaking crew, the cellar crew, storage, and so on all deplete capital. Operational costs would be quite high for many of these châteaux but still they are able net significant amounts of money. I would think in a year like 2009, Lafite could manage to stash away close to $100 million, not bad for a year’s work.

Back to Château Calon-Ségur, $215 million sounds like a lot for a château that even in its better vintages only brings in maybe $7 to 10 million. It was originally reported that the château was being purchased by Jean-Francois Moueix, the owner of Château Pétrus - here’s a guy that could have definitely done something with the estate to bring it up to its Third Growth status, or beyond. But sadly, in the end, an insurance company, Suravenir Assurances, purchased it for 170 million Euros ($213,775,00 US). I say ‘sadly’ due to the fact that many fine wine estates are bought up by insurance companies because they have the resources to buy them, but not the wisdom to maintain or operate them properly. In fact many such estates go downhill quickly because big corporate boards don’t want to put any further money into the château. Lack of knowledge, passion, and commitment drives such once-great châteaux into the dirt, so to speak, with a few notable exceptions such as Château Latour, owned by French in industrialist François Pinault.

The numbers in the chart are just a glimpse but there can be no denying that owning a classified château in Bordeaux can be very profitable. Of course one wonders about the wisdom of the Marquis de Ségur, Nicolas Alexandre, who in the 1700s owned First Growth Châteaux Lafite Rothschild, Latour, and Mouton Rothschild, Second Growth Montrose, and other classified estates. He sold all of them except Calon-Ségur but at least not to an insurance company. 

David Boyer

Photo: Château La Mission Haut-Brion, a truly beautiful estate, rendered from a photo I took in May 2012

In recent months there has been a concerted and even somewhat organized effort to petition critics, retailers, and wine buyers to stop using wine scores. The argument essentially is that scores demean good wine because people that use them don’t read the actual tasting notes, which is allegedly where the ‘real’ information lies. In other words you should rely on tasting notes and not scores. Of course I have a number of issues with this position.

Like for every season, I recently received my spring 2012 catalog from Sherry-Lehmann in New York and this retailer, by the way, is truly one of the several best and trusted wine merchants in the country. In the catalog are printed comments from major critics (Parker, Wine Spectator, Tanzer, Suckling, Meadows) but presumably in an effort to not ruffle feathers of the opponents of wine scores, they do not publish scores but only excerpts from critic’s tasting notes. I can respect their position and find my own scores. Here are two examples of their excerpts from this catalog, both from the ubiquitous Wine Advocate (Robert Parker and friends):

“Plenty of sweet fruitcake, blackcurrant, kirsch, forest floor and earthy characteristics" 

Pretty specific tasting note, yes? But honestly, how many times have you actually tasted more than one or two of those elements described above in the one wine, any wine?

Next:

“a Mediterranean sea-breeze-like character that is difficult to articulate”

Wow, a third grader could have written that, assuming she knew what the word ‘articulate’ means. Anyone could write that a wine is difficult to articulate, and mean it. But is this really helpful? Does a reader really get a sense of what this wine is or what its quality is? Or only what the tasting profile is according to Mr. Parker et al? Such tasting notes go on, and on and on, not just here but everywhere with prose so mind-bendingly whacky that it simply seems like a game of thrones anymore.

One of the biggest problems with tasting notes today is that rather than use mundane, repetitive notes (let’s face it, wine can only vary so much) critics are running out of adjectives so often it just seems that they’re making stuff up on the fly with as many obscure descriptors as they can pull out of their, um . . . hats. There are a huge number of seriously convoluted, completely risible tasting notes that have not a thing to do with the wine or wine borne flavors but rather, a competitive attempt to sound more intelligent and cultured than other critics writing about the same wine. It’s a contest of sorts but the looser is always you and I, the reader.

Are tasting notes helpful to us? Does it really matter if my nose takes in aromas of pain grillé (toasted bread) if the quality of the wine doesn’t meet my expectation? Except for sharing descriptions with other people that are sitting at a table with me drinking the same wine at that moment, I generally could care less about what someone else tastes or what aromas are observed because I’m probably not going to taste or describe it the same way anyone else would.

It’s not that I lack descriptors or imagination but I guess I have never tasted stewed black cherry and only blue Fruit Loops with a hint of East Hoboken mint and brown shoe polish, all finishing with layers of charred and boiled mystery meat poured over lava rocks crushed in a blender. It seems to me like tasting notes have become this extreme and obtuse. There are far too many variables for published tasting notes to be considered trustworthy information, not the least of which, most fine wine continually evolves and can be at a different stage of development by the time you or I drink it. In other words there is a complete disconnect between a critic that is trying to out-write his colleagues and what you and I actually taste or observe. More than anything tasting notes to me are personal (but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t share them) because no one else will experience the same wine (or food, or music, or fill in the blank) exactly the way you do. It’s how we’re wired.

What matters to me: does this wine exact the quality that I expected? Does it measure up to my standards compared to the critic that assessed its quality? I can determine what it tastes like for myself, which may be similar or may be very different from a critic’s taste. But the number is where the value is for me. In fact it’s certainly possible to have similar taste and aroma profiles (read: tasting notes) for a wine that’s 82 points and another wine that’s 94 points, obviously because there are so many common elements found in wine. However, any number gives me instant qualitative data and granted, it still comes back to the person that issued the score, but professional critics are truly in a great position to compare quality. It doesn’t matter if it’s a cool guy in New Hampshire critiquing wine or an internationally recognized critic. To me, there is value in the score as long as I understand how a particular critic scores wine and I can assimilate that critic’s scores with my own experience. I don’t deny that there’s room for improvement in the 100 point scoring system but it’s still the best we have.

It’s easy, popular, and possibly even fun to play ‘punch-the-critic’ but ask yourself how many wines you taste in a year? 50? 100? 365? These men and women with renown (along with the uncelebrated) taste thousands of wines each year and have for decades, and you and I can’t even get close to those numbers. I can tell you from experience that when you have a wall of wine to taste through for days, weeks, or months at a time, even the least experienced palate will eventually be able to pick out the best wines. Critics have a very difficult job and then get bashed for it.

But like it or not, I don’t see them going by the wayside, regardless of attempts to overthrow the kingdoms that move markets. They may change and become much more electronic-media savvy but there will always be a place for someone to educate and provide a source of reliable information. Sites like CellarTracker certainly have their place and can sometimes provide useable information but that’s assuming you can find people whose palates and experience you trust, out of 200,000 + bona fide wine critic wannabes. Although the internet gives some modicum of power to the people, and I’m all for it, often such socially-driven websites have extremes of love/hate that when averaged, it all ultimately falls or ascends to the middle. To me this is not useful information, whether it’s about hotels, restaurants, wine, music, or whatever.

Wine collectors use scores, investors use them, retailers love them because scores sell wine, wineries that receive good scores love them, and it seems the faction that whines the most about scores are estates that don’t produce very good wine, as estimated by people that tastes thousands of wines critically each year. I don’t see this scoring system ending anytime soon and in terms of reliable and useful information, scores really have measured up to its potential.

David Boyer

Photo: cover of the Sherry-Lehmann Spring Catalog, which is copyrighted, which means maybe I'll get a ‘take-down’ order.

With the sharpness of a French sabre, in one swift groundbreaking move, Bordeaux First Growth Château Latour obliterates decades of tradition. And I for one am extremely pleased, while others are clearly not. What’s the big deal?

First of all I should let you in on the issue if you haven’t already heard. A few weeks ago before the 2011 vintage futures prices were to be released, Château Latour announced that 2011 will be the last vintage they will sell en primeur (as a future). Wine futures is wine that is purchased by, and allocated to, buyers before the wine is even bottled and for red wine it can be generally three years or more into the future before this wine begins to appear on store shelves. When conditions are favorable, buying futures in wine is like buying futures in oil, pork bellies, or any other commodity and there is money to be made. If the demand goes up, so will prices, and with wine we know there is a finite amount of it produced each year so supply is a known factor. Conversely, if wine is bought en primeur and market demand is not there later to support it, the buyer of course looses money on the deal. Contrary to what many believe, this practice of selling wine futures has only been going on in Bordeaux since the early ‘70s but is definitely considered a tradition nonetheless.

One of the most valuable wine estates in the world, Latour, expanded its intent even further. Not only would it discontinue the practice of selling wine futures but it also will not sell or release any of its wine until the château deems it to be ready to drink. This is a radical and bold move for any château to make and a number of parties are not at all buoyant about the announcement, most of which consist of those who will lose the most, to wit, Bordeaux négociants and merchants.

At the center of the issue for Château Latour is this single fact: their wines are sold and consumed too young, which makes for a less than pleasant wine experience for the consumer and that in turn, tarnishes Latour’s image. I can’t argue with that. All too often I see wine appear on upscale restaurant wine lists offering newly released First Growth Bordeaux. Not only are the prices jacked through the roof but also the wines are very far away from entering their window of drinkability. It’s actually offensive and appalling to me to see any restaurant offer and serve these wines that they know full well shouldn’t generally be touched for at least fifteen years from its vintage date. Not everyone knows better or knows wine, and when someone has a bad experience with it, it's easy to imagine that person telling many others about the disappointment they experienced, especially with a $1000+ bottle that is supposed to be fantastic.

The château has every right, and even a responsibility, to protect its image and its own future. The entities that may feel some pain financially are not just the négociants that sell these wines but those that engage in the practice of buying up large allocations of these coveted wines en primeur, and then warehousing them for years to release them to the secondary market years later. The wines are properly stored over the years and cost significant amounts to support such an operation (most of these merchants are UK based) but when you look at the most extreme examples, profits can be stratospheric. With Latour pulling the plug on this possibility, well, that’s just how it goes. How can anyone not support a business that wants to control its own future?

Detractors are saying that it is the château that will make handsome profits by releasing wines when they want, effectively controlling supply based on market demand. So what? They made the wine and they are entitled to the profits generated. Is this not the goal of any business? Why should Latour have to share the huge gains in the secondary markets when it adds to the bottom line and they can control the wines themselves? Plus the fact that secondary gains for the producer in this case, do not ring true anyhow – look at this example:

1982 $1500 99 points WS*

1990 $750 100 points WS

2009 $1600 99 points WS

* scores from Wine Spectator

These are current prices for two great vintages of Château Latour and the en primeur price for the great ’09 vintage. I can buy a great wine today that doesn’t require any wait time, for less than I can buy a current release that needs at least fifteen years of bottle age before I can drink it. In 1982 this wine probably was released at around $35 per bottle but if the château had stored the wine in perfect condition for thirty years without ever getting paid for it, they should receive whatever the market is willing to pay for it; it’s just how free enterprise works.

Yes, the château could create a shortage in supply by releasing only small quantities into the market, thereby increasing demand and cost for their wine but what would be the point? To delay getting paid for their product just to earn a few more dollars? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t think the intent is for Château Latour to alienate their base of loyal customers whatsoever but rather to ensure they will have a better wine experience. I acknowledge that this issue could certainly be explored and discussed on a much deeper level but it’s outside the purview of this post. Ultimately though, it is my position that Latour is certainly entitled to control their products just like any company, in any other industry. 

It would be great if every wine producer did the same but few have the pockets deep enough to pull this off. Latour says depending on the vintage, it expects to release its First Growth within ten to twelve years, its second label, Les Forts de Latour, around seven years, and third label Pauillac de Château Latour, will be released several years after the vintage. When they are released, it is expected that négociants will be selling these wines, just as they have been. In the meantime it is contemplated that the estate will release more of their older vintages into the market that they have been storing for some years.

I don’t see how the remaining four First Growths cannot do the same. After all, in 2027 would you rather pay $3000 for a bottle of Lafite that you have to wait fifteen years to drink, or for about the same price, a bottle of Château Latour that comes with guaranteed perfect provenance and is ready to drink the same day you buy it? Not since Château Haut Brion opened its own tavern in mid-seventeenth century London has a First Growth château seized such an innovative and game-changing opportunity. Huge admiration and esteem must be awarded to Château Latour, whose wines will always be sought out and loved the world over.

David Boyer