Dear Wine Club Readers,
This week, I read that the comedian Jerry Seinfeld likes boiled eggs with peanut butter. I can’t see that working on my plate, or in my brain, or as the next Waffle House special menu, but who am I to say he’s wrong if he likes it?
Much like our individual taste in food, our choices in wine are deeply personal. Yet, in our relentless pursuit of the finest things in life, we often find ourselves navigating through a labyrinth of wine ratings — a modern shortcut that might lead us away from genuinely exceptional experiences.
In the world of wine, we’ve seen an inflation not just in prices but in the points and ratings lavished upon bottles. These scores, influenced perhaps by generous checks or lavish trips, often sway consumer’s opinions, but are they a true reflection of quality? And can they possibly represent all the best wines available?
Living in Argentina, where the economy has ballooned by a staggering 200% inflation rate over the past few years, has taught me the art of resilience and resourcefulness. Watching the value of hard-earned pesos diminish has reinforced the importance of investing in things with true worth — whether a can of tuna or a quality bottle of wine.
As a frequent traveler, I have witnessed the erosion of value in various forms, from airline miles that once promised future adventures to restaurant reviews that have lost their bite. Critics, once feared and respected, now seem hesitant to voice their honest opinions, leaving us to wonder: where have the savage restaurant critiques gone? What happened to the deal-breakers that could make or break a chef’s success in culinary capitals like New York, London, or Paris?
It’s a bit like the wine world, isn’t it? We’re often served scores and recommendations that might not sit well with our own tastes. Yet, we navigate through, guided by scores that, while have become the shorthand for quality in an ever-busy world, may have very little to do with our actual taste. But let’s delve deeper.
In the days of yore, wine ratings were the sacred scripts found in glossy magazines, at a time when there weren’t many other options for learning about what wines are out there. Figures like Robert Parker, Jancis Robinson, and James Suckling pioneered this trend, offering guidance and insights when publishing magazines was still a profitable venture.While I cast no aspersions on the knowledge of those who wield the scoring pens, the landscape has indeed transformed. Media has morphed; those same magazines now fight for attention in a digital arena where speed often outpaces depth. This shift challenges us to question whether the old guard of wine criticism can maintain their influence in a world that values immediacy over thoroughness.
Scores do serve a purpose, helping to guide you through the labyrinthine aisles of massive stores like Total Wine or the expansive wine sections of Costco. They provide a shorthand, helping harried shoppers make quick decisions. But reviewers, tasked with satisfying an insatiable audience hungry for the next best thing, find themselves under immense pressure to deliver perfect scores. Amidst this race for 100 points, we must pause and reflect: is there a soul behind these highly rated wines, or are they merely manufactured to appease the masses? Is there a genuine connection between the wine and You?
When sourcing wines for our club, we prioritize those that are well-crafted and imbued with the spirit of the winemaker’s interpretation of the vineyard, its terroir, and its unique story. We seek out wines with authentic character, akin to a firm and genuine handshake, rather than those designed solely to please the crowd.
We can navigate the turbulent waters of this era of inflation and devaluation by recognizing the value of well-made products from people who work with passion .
I’ll leave you with this thought — have you encountered a wine or perhaps another cherished item recently that stood out more for its quality than its score? For me, it has been my cast iron pans and the Swiss Army knife I’ve been carrying now for about 20 years, and it still holds its sharpness.
Cheers to finding true value and enjoyment in every sip, not because it’s been rated but because it resonates with us.
A su salud,
Diego Samper
