Great import
Buying wine by the back label
Uncorked by Thor Iverson
If you ever run into me in a wine shop, you'll see something a little odd:
every once in a while, I'll pick up a bottle, turn it around, and study
the back label in detail. No, it's not some sort of obsessive-compulsive
behavior, or a keen interest in those ridiculous government warnings; I'm looking
for the name of the importer, which is third only to the
raw materials
and the producer in determining the quality of a wine.
You might assume an importer's job is simply to get things from there to here.
And while importers do fulfill that function, their influence (and
responsibility) goes far beyond it. Importers have a lot of power in the wine
trade, and they use that power to influence (or sometimes, dictate) producers'
winemaking techniques from vineyard to bottle. For wines that meet their
requirements, importers are often willing to pay a premium to the producer;
wines tailored for an importer are often very different from wines destined for
markets that importer does not serve.
"Hey, wait a minute," you're protesting. "If that's true, isn't the importer
practically making the wine?" Well, yes. And that's why the importer is
so, ahem, important.
Some importers exert this pressure because they're enamored of a particular
style, perhaps one
high in oak
with low acidity.
If that style is to your
liking, then you've found a new friend in that importer. But the majority of
importers make demands on their producers for a different reason: quality
control. Winemakers, especially in Europe, used to be painfully unaware that
there was a competitive market outside their own front door. Entire winemaking
regions often let quality slip to levels that were simply unacceptable in a
world where there's a lot of fantastic wine from many different regions,
believing that because they drank nothing but their own wine, no one
else could either. Importers are at least partially responsible for changing
that.
Another consumer-friendly change goes back to the first duty of an importer:
shipment. Wine is a delicate thing and doesn't respond well to
heat or frequent
changes in temperature. But when a bottle of wine leaves a winemaker's cellar,
what happens to it? It sits in a big metal truck, baking for hours or days (or
weeks, during one of those too-frequent French trucker strikes) as it's taken
to the nearest port. Then it's loaded onto a ship, where it sits in another hot
container during the transoceanic journey. Finally it arrives here, where it's
loaded onto yet another hot truck and carted to a warehouse without air
conditioning, then via another truck to the retailer.
That is, this all happens unless the importer is willing to shell out the
bucks for refrigeration every step of the way; refrigerated trucks in the
country of origin and the US, "reefers" (temperature-controlled containers) on
the ship, and air-conditioned warehouses here in the States. Importers who care
do this. Others lie about it. There are, unfortunately, probably more of the
latter.
There's also a new breed of importer that seeks out small, artisanal
producers making wine in authentically traditional ways rather than the
assembly-line "international" style (one often mandated by importers). Kermit
Lynch, a California importer responsible for many of the positive changes
listed above, is the leading proponent of this method, but there are many
others.
There are quite a few importers I like -- and a few I don't -- but there are
five that, for me, stand above the crowd. If I see one of their names on the
back (or front) of a bottle, I'll break my usual rule and buy without tasting.
I'm rarely disappointed. Those five are Kermit Lynch, Neal
Rosenthal, Leonardo LoCascio (specializing in Italian wine, imported
by Winebow), Terry Theise (specializing in German and Austrian wine, and
artisanal Champagne,
usually imported by Milton S. Kronheim), and Jorge
Ordonez (a/k/a Fine Estates from Spain, specializing in Spanish wine,
represented in Massachusetts by MRR Traders).
A few wines from these importers:
1995 Bodegas Nekeas Vega Sindoa Cabernet Sauvignon/Tempranillo ($8.99).
One of the best values on the market. A hulking monster of a wine, yet still
fun, delivering waves of cassis, chocolate, licorice, peppers, leather, and
smoky herbs. Very well balanced
for such a massive wine. The '96, available
now, is just as good. Imported by Jorge Ordonez/MRR Traders.
1995 Domaine Forey Bourgogne ($17.99). As affordable as Burgundy gets,
a tightly wound bundle of fresh berries that needs an hour or so of air to open
up. Has the delicate balance
that only Burgundy achieves with pinot noir.
Imported by Neal Rosenthal.
1995 Domaine le Sang des Cailloux Vacqueyras ($11.79). Plum, raw herb,
and black cherries dominate this rustic yet seductive Rhone, with a strong
leathery tannin
structure, some nice earthy notes, and an incredible finish
that indicates a long future. Needs at least two hours of air. Imported by
Kermit Lynch.
1996 Glatzer Zweigelt Riedencuvée Carnuntum Trocken ($8.99). An
Austrian red? Yes! Violets, roses, and black pepper on the nose, with a dusty
mango-papaya-blackberry flavor supported by a more serious leather and tobacco
character. A year or so might balance
it out. Imported by Terry Theise/Milton S. Kronheim.
1994 Arigolas Perdera Monica di Sardegna ($8.99). Smoke, earth,
decaying game (all good things, trust me), with a truffled palate that doesn't
show its fruit without some air. Fully mature. The '96 is available in stores
now. Imported by Leonardo LoCascio/Winebow.
Thor Iverson can be reached at wine[a]phx.com.
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