Vino 100
If Vino 100 stores were based on wine scores they would have to, in my opinion, rename the franchise to Vino 75 (I’m ready to have some fun – when will the lawyers show up with a cease and desist letter?). Today is the first time I have visited one of these stores in probably three or more years and I forced myself to go there because I already knew why to stay away.
This function was listed on the local wine events website as ‘The Grand Tasting’ with over 30 wines available, which it turns out, were poured fastidiously and precisely in ½ ounce portions. The place was wall-to-wall with very nice people of all ages and a very festive mood prevailed. The wine served ranged from repugnant to potable with a couple of gentlemen behind the bar that seemed to have some modicum of wine knowledge; the other servers, maybe not so much.
One of wines on the list was a 2000 San Silvestro (don’t ask me, I don’t know) Barolo. This definitely piqued my interest and in my own jovial way, I ordered up a glass. The gentleman pouring explained to me that this was from the Piedmont region of Italy so he gets points for knowing that much at least. But I was horrified to see this wine being poured into my glass! It looked more like root beer than a big, nice Barolo from Piedmont. “Is every bottle you’ve poured of this wine been this amber color?” I asked kindly. “Yes this is a 2000,” he replied, as if it was 2000 years old. I thought to myself, something is really wrong here.
Barolo is not always huge in extract but this was something different altogether and actually drinking a 2000 Barolo at the end of 2008 would be considered drinking a wine that is very young. Generally, ten years would be the prescribed minimum bottle age duration before attempting to tame the bracing acidity and tannins of a Barolo. This wine however looked cooked, it smelled cooked and then with a taste, the truth came out: it was cooked. It had every classic sign of being abused somewhere along the line, either in shipping or storage. It had that burnt caramel flavor, with really odd esters, very amber in color and flavors like an old maderized wine, that hours later is still on my palate – not the kind of finish one would hope for.
The server guy from the bar asked me a few minutes later how it was. I told him it was cooked. His reply was something like, “however you see it.” He was actually trying to accommodate me, the customer, and he replied with sincerity so he gets more points for that. He then grabbed a glass and poured himself precisely ½ ounce (these guys are good on that ½ ounce thing, I’m tellin’ you), and proceeded to taste it. I asked him with the utmost respect what he thought and he said, “Yeah, it might be partially cooked”. What does that even mean, ‘partially cooked’? Shortly thereafter I overheard someone ordering the San Silvestro and the same gentleman said they were not serving it any longer, intimating without actually saying it, that they were out (which of course they were not). Well done.
In fairness to the store, these fine folks are making a lot more money than I in the wine business, perhaps because I don’t sell anything in the wine business, but more importantly they have hit the wine buyer’s “sweet-spot”. There is a place for every bottle, although I don’t know where that place is exactly. One of my biggest issues With Vino 100 is that they intentionally dumb down wine. Their consumer purchasing factors have to do with little horizontal sliders pegged to each offering that indicates a wine’s more or less fruitiness and body (is it possible to have both?). There are many, many more factors that account for good and great wines, so why dumb down? Wouldn’t it be better to help educate people about wine rather than try to reduce it to near stupidity? Would it be rude to make comments about Vino 100 in reference to IQ? Yes it would.
Still I am humbled by how great people are and even though many may think of me as an utter wine snob which I do not deny, I could never think of myself as a being a better person than anyone else in that crowded room tonight, enjoying wine. Still . . I am humbled by how great people are.
This function was listed on the local wine events website as ‘The Grand Tasting’ with over 30 wines available, which it turns out, were poured fastidiously and precisely in ½ ounce portions. The place was wall-to-wall with very nice people of all ages and a very festive mood prevailed. The wine served ranged from repugnant to potable with a couple of gentlemen behind the bar that seemed to have some modicum of wine knowledge; the other servers, maybe not so much.
One of wines on the list was a 2000 San Silvestro (don’t ask me, I don’t know) Barolo. This definitely piqued my interest and in my own jovial way, I ordered up a glass. The gentleman pouring explained to me that this was from the Piedmont region of Italy so he gets points for knowing that much at least. But I was horrified to see this wine being poured into my glass! It looked more like root beer than a big, nice Barolo from Piedmont. “Is every bottle you’ve poured of this wine been this amber color?” I asked kindly. “Yes this is a 2000,” he replied, as if it was 2000 years old. I thought to myself, something is really wrong here.
Barolo is not always huge in extract but this was something different altogether and actually drinking a 2000 Barolo at the end of 2008 would be considered drinking a wine that is very young. Generally, ten years would be the prescribed minimum bottle age duration before attempting to tame the bracing acidity and tannins of a Barolo. This wine however looked cooked, it smelled cooked and then with a taste, the truth came out: it was cooked. It had every classic sign of being abused somewhere along the line, either in shipping or storage. It had that burnt caramel flavor, with really odd esters, very amber in color and flavors like an old maderized wine, that hours later is still on my palate – not the kind of finish one would hope for.
The server guy from the bar asked me a few minutes later how it was. I told him it was cooked. His reply was something like, “however you see it.” He was actually trying to accommodate me, the customer, and he replied with sincerity so he gets more points for that. He then grabbed a glass and poured himself precisely ½ ounce (these guys are good on that ½ ounce thing, I’m tellin’ you), and proceeded to taste it. I asked him with the utmost respect what he thought and he said, “Yeah, it might be partially cooked”. What does that even mean, ‘partially cooked’? Shortly thereafter I overheard someone ordering the San Silvestro and the same gentleman said they were not serving it any longer, intimating without actually saying it, that they were out (which of course they were not). Well done.
In fairness to the store, these fine folks are making a lot more money than I in the wine business, perhaps because I don’t sell anything in the wine business, but more importantly they have hit the wine buyer’s “sweet-spot”. There is a place for every bottle, although I don’t know where that place is exactly. One of my biggest issues With Vino 100 is that they intentionally dumb down wine. Their consumer purchasing factors have to do with little horizontal sliders pegged to each offering that indicates a wine’s more or less fruitiness and body (is it possible to have both?). There are many, many more factors that account for good and great wines, so why dumb down? Wouldn’t it be better to help educate people about wine rather than try to reduce it to near stupidity? Would it be rude to make comments about Vino 100 in reference to IQ? Yes it would.
Still I am humbled by how great people are and even though many may think of me as an utter wine snob which I do not deny, I could never think of myself as a being a better person than anyone else in that crowded room tonight, enjoying wine. Still . . I am humbled by how great people are.
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