It isn't quite like saying that it's best not to put all your hatchlings into a solitary container, but a statistic was just handed to me that makes it seem so.
Two decades ago, at a small cafe in Collio Orientali in northern Italy, I ordered a red wine that was reasonably priced, and I was pleasantly surprised. It tasted sort of like Zinfandel and was a charming accompaniment to my pasta.
Planning a tour of any wine country region can be easy or complicated, and a checklist can be as simple as: 1. Make hotel reservations. 2. Use the spit bucket. 3. Get winery tasting room hours.
With the economy still wobbly and restaurants that survived the horrendous 18-month siege that lasted from late 2008 to early 2010 still on deathwatch, you would think that they'd become more creative.
It has been roughly six years since we were witness to one of the wine world's most feared enemies. It is an enemy so fierce that it can play havoc with our beloved industry in ways that are so devastating and so horrifying that mere mortals are driven to cowering in corners.
A report some months ago in the Journal of Wine Economics strongly implied that the results of wine competitions were more likely to be random than replicate-able evaluations of professional palates.
We call them grape varieties for a reason. But let's put the horse back in front of the cart.
I write for a living, such as it is. In another line of work, I might now be long retired and living on an island so I can finish Ulysses or Long Day's Journey into Night, and I'd have time to open a Grange for fun now and then instead of having to slog through trade tastings and teach classes.
A friend got a bottle of the Maryhill Winery 2005 Malbec recently, and learned that the wine had earned a Platinum medal at the annual taste-off we do at Wine Press Northwest.
So the 75th anniversary of the end of Prohibition passed on Dec. 5 without a great deal of fanfare. No bells ringing, no parties with revelers toasting each other with Champagne, no page-one headline stories.
As dozens of wineries around the United States consider whether to leap into the Riesling derby, following the huge success of Chateau Ste. Michelle with that variety, one of the linchpins on which decisions are based is: Can I sell this wine?
My love for Riesling should know no bounds, but alas there is a drawback that has me gnashing my teeth. Is Riesling's image that of a sweet wine?
Those of us who consume wine on a daily basis are often more eclectic in our tastes. For us, itís a bummer when night after night we face the same old stuff.