In front of me, staring down from the bookshelves that oh-so politely surround the desk in my study, is a copy of my go-to wine buyer’s guide. It is the size of two house bricks and twice as heavy. It contains pretty much everything you need to know about what wine to drink, what to buy, and when to do both of those things. It has everything you need to know about provenance, history, producers, and – always living up to its reputation – is a genuine consumer encyclopedia, one of the very best in the world. And my copy is covered in dust.
Actually, that is not strictly fair, as I still pull it down every now and then, when I want to prod my memory or investigate something about a particular vintage. Or indeed, when I’m writing something about wine and I need to check my facts (and it always has the facts). Usually, however, I do what I’ve been doing for several years now. I simply pull out my phone and open up one of my wine apps. I use half a dozen of them, principally when I’m about to buy something, with Vivino probably being the one I use the most (like a lot of apps, I find the one you tend to use most is the one you started using first – many of my friends use CellarTracker).
So fond have I become of this app that not only do I whip it out in wine stores, off-licences and supermarkets, I also – gasp! – use it in restaurants, and – sin of sins – occasionally at my friends’ houses. Of course, when I’m with my friends, I take a picture of the wine we’re drinking as a mark of respect, an aide-mémoire of the remarkable vintages in front of me. But my friends know what I’m doing; they know I’m trying to work out what cheapskates they are, seeing if they are trying to palm me off with an offering I suspect only costs £15 a bottle, when the last time I entertained them I pulled out a couple of bottles worth upwards of £120 each (and that was only before dinner, before the good stuff came out). Because we are all experts now, aren’t we? At least those of us with smart phones, which in actuality is everyone.
I find the use of apps to be of most help in restaurants, especially those newish places I’m still suspicious of. I spend a lot of time in restaurants, and indeed spend a lot of money in them, and so my relationships with them are, like most people’s, complex and yet particular. My choices are invariably based on a matrix of my very own creation; the breed and quality of the food is obviously important, but often not as important as many other things, notably location, friendliness, comfort, cost, and their interest in treating me as though I were the Prime Minister. Or Bono. Or indeed Kanye. Basically, I like places that treat all their customers like superstars, and if they also sell extraordinary food, then so be it. It’s a bonus, not a necessity. Of course, the other extremely important thing is their wine list; not so much at lunch time (I rarely drink at lunch time) but in the evening, always. If I don’t connect with the wine list, then I’m not going to enjoy myself. If the wines are too cheap, I feel cheated. If they’re too expensive and I’m forced to point, shamefaced, to something I don’t know on the first page, I feel irritated. And if the wine lists are too large, then I start to feel as though I’m in a supermarket (“Yes, the Pomerol I was looking for is on page 604, in the green section, I think, just between the inch of Super Tuscans and the 60 pages of dessert wines…”). No, I like a wine list I can navigate, a wine list that hopefully feels as comfortable and as intriguing as the people I’m dining with.
However, the most important aspect of my relationship with wine, and with wine lists, is my willingness to admit that I don’t know as much as I ought to. I know a bit (I’ve drunk enough wine in my life to have grasped the rudiments; I’m also over 30), but like anyone with any sense, I bow down at the font of expertise. I like experts. I trust experts. And I want to learn from experts. Generally speaking, I think we are entering a world where there is starting to be a reappreciation of expertise, as consumers get sick of recommendations driven by algorithms, and fake news which is little but public relations drivel. Experts, though, they rock. Because they know what they’re talking about. Our recent enforced solitude has also meant that we have been examining free content with more of a gimlet eye than usual, and if you’re convening with a world that is being decorated with news and information simply to encourage you to be transactional, the appeal and the veracity of that content soon wears off.
In terms of media, the only gatekeepers who people genuinely take seriously these days are tastemakers and curators. Otherwise, they are simply getting in the way. In terms of brand trust, it’s more important than ever. So, it’s perhaps not so surprising that we are experiencing a renewed faith in expertise, in people who know what they are talking about, who have studied it, practised it, and who have experienced it.
For the last year or so, wine critics have not been operating as they normally do, unable to travel around the world to taste barrel samples in cellars, walk through vineyards, discuss particular details and minutiae of climatic conditions, viticultural approaches, vinification methodologies (and more) with winemakers. This in itself has allowed the online wine world to blossom, with a focus on wine influencers and citizen journalists. But while all this activity – along with the popularity of wine apps – might have made traditional wine experts slightly defensive or concerned about their livelihoods, having spoken to half a dozen of the very best for this piece, I’m surprised how sanguine they are about these developments, and how willing they are to accept change.
Jancis Robinson MW is one of the most famous wine critics in the world, as well as one of the most respected (these two things can sometimes be mutually exclusive). She currently writes a weekly column for the Financial Times, writes for her website JancisRobinson.com, updated daily, and also helps choose wines for the Queen’s cellar.
She is optimistic about the last year, and like most people who spend their professional life convening with others – is looking forward to some kind of hybrid model going forward as far as her profession is concerned.
“Lockdown changed the way we test and taste wine enormously,” she says. “Instead of me going to the wine, the wine comes to me nowadays, not always easy considering we live on the 14th floor. We are very lift (and trolley) dependent, especially when the Bordelais delivers a pallet-load of wine. And lockdown has been extremely good for our website. Online life and keen wine drinking have resulted in our best months ever for new members.”
Surely the physical experience of being in a vineyard and tasting wine in proper surroundings is part of the whole experience?
“I wouldn’t say that surroundings influence how one tastes. In fact, it would be dangerous if it did. We all know that holiday syndrome, when a wine enjoyed on a vine-shaded terrace tasted sensational but is oddly unimpressive back home. But, of course, seeing where a wine comes from, smelling the air, enjoying the scenery, walking the vines, inspecting (and smelling) the cellar and – most importantly – meeting the people involved, are hugely important to assembling an impression of a wine. I think it’s much more informative to spend time with people than to sit in a Zoom session with them. It’s always interesting to see how people treat their colleagues and staff, for instance, which is not something that’s possible online. My first journalistic stint was on Harry Evans’ Sunday Times which has left me with a pretty hefty dose of scepticism.
I reckon I am quite good at detecting insincerity, but you need a bit of time and exposure for that.”
Does she think her judgement is impaired by drinking wine in isolation, so to speak?
“I’m certainly not aware of it. In fact, I think in this single respect isolation may be a rather good thing. I’m enjoying being able to taste wine by myself, at my own pace, being able to revisit an opened bottle and taste the wine with food. In many ways, it’s more rewarding and revealing to take my time to consider wines rather than in the past, when I have either been fighting to cover the ground at a professional tasting in London or am tasting in the full glare of the producer during a visit.”
While lockdown obviously produced huge logistical problems for wine critics last year, every expert I spoke with learned to cope quite quickly, and actually enjoyed the break. US-based Antonio Galloni, Vinous founder and one of the world’s most foremost critics, says that being isolated actually helped him in his work. “When all of the trappings are removed, the only thing left is the wine in is purest state. This stark, minimalist setting really lets the best wines shine.
“While it is true that we are living in a time of physical distancing, technology has allowed us to bridge the gap,” he continues. “It’s not the same, of course, but we are fortunate that we have so much technology available. If this pandemic had occurred even a decade ago, things would have been much different.”
He, too, is positive about the future. “In wine, the hardest hit sector is hospitality, with restaurants, bars and hotels still closed in many parts of the world. This has shifted wine sales heavily to retail. The retail sector has long utilised ratings and reviews to sell wines. Those scores have never been more important than they are today, especially as the number of good wines from all over the world continues to grow. Events that were once held in person have shifted into the virtual realm. I expect some of that to continue, in the same way companies like Netflix and Amazon have completely changed the way consumers watch movies and television shows.”
“Wine retailers and even a lot of wine importers and restaurateurs have developed their e-commerce skills and capability,” says Robinson. “Most wine retailers have done extremely well – perhaps partly because people have been readier to open a bottle since they know they won’t be driving and are at home all the time, so there is no worry about when they will finish it. And since there has been little to spend money on, many wine drinkers have tended to trade up – not least because they are not paying restaurant mark-ups for their wine. But the lockdown effect, we sincerely hope, will change. One specific effect has been on the last two important en primeur campaigns: Bordeaux 2019 last June, and Burgundy 2019 in January. Both hugely successful, probably for some of the ‘ready cash’ reasons above. And because life has gone online so definitively, so this is a bit like the share-trading-at-home phenomenon.
“However, I do wonder whether the wine producers will learn from this that it may not be as important as they thought to have critics’ scores on these embryonic wines – I’m thinking particularly of the usual en primeur tastings of six-month-old wine [out of barrel] in Bordeaux. I much prefer to taste wine when it is definitively in-bottle rather than be a performing monkey, churning out scores.”
Our experts were also extremely accommodating about influencers, understanding that while there are hundreds of attractive Instagram stars who market wine in the same way others endorse handbags or lipstick (for a fee), the genuine wine lovers are helping grow the market for a new generation. After all, millennials actually spend more money on wine online than baby boomers.
“I am delighted by the emergence of what you might call ‘soft influencers’, wine commentators who have managed to carve out a reputation and persona for themselves via social media which is proving so much more powerful and welcoming to new voices than the traditional media,” says Robinson. “These soft influencers bring a host of new perspectives and language to the world of wine which is great. They are doing their bit to make wine appeal to younger consumers especially and I salute them.”
James Suckling is the American wine and cigar critic, and former senior editor and European bureau chief of Wine Spectator as well as European editor of Cigar Aficionado. He is also something of an influencer himself, with over 270,000 Instagram followers. Like Robinson, he has temporarily enjoyed not travelling so much (in an average year he would be travelling for over 200 days) and has got used to tasting via Zoom. But he agrees that to reinforce your IP you need to be visible, and physical.
“I’m really looking forward to getting back and seeing people in person,” he says. “This is my 40th year as a wine critic and journalist, and I was a daily journalist when I started out, so I appreciate seeing people and really kicking the dirt and seeing the regions and the wineries. When we can start to travel like we used to, producers will want us to – they want to present their wines to people, they want to have that person-to-person contact that we all know is so important for communicating, and selling, and buying and drinking wine. I think that physical presence and communication is just part of wine and sort of goes hand in hand. So, I don’t think we’ll completely be doing everything online. But I think we’ll be doing a lot more online than we used to do.”
One thing he firmly believes is that there is going to be a lot of pressure on fine wine prices, globally. “As inflation goes up, it’s going to be really interesting to see how expensive rare Burgundies can actually become, as even young vintages are now trading at $5,000 a bottle. So many young people have made money also in all sorts of start-ups, tech businesses and IPOs, and there’s a lot of money out there.”
And what about Vivino, and all the other apps that are giving more power to the consumer?
“Vivino is very popular with wine consumers because it is so easy to use,” says Jeannie Cho Lee MW, who runs Asian Palate out of Hong Kong. “It is very useful and definitely a good thing. Wine Lister is becoming more relevant in the fine wine world, but I am biased since I am one of their wine critics, so I only have good things to say.”
William Kelley is a Burgundy specialist who has been writing about wine for six years. Thanks to the right passports and papers, he was able to travel to review wines more or less as normal in 2020. France’s first lockdown was the only challenge, but producers dropped off samples at his office in Beaune, Burgundy. He and his wife opened a 1941 Savigny-lès-Beaune the day restrictions were imposed as a reminder that, challenging as 2020 was, things have been much, much worse in living memory. Kelley says that on the one hand, it’s important that critics maintain a genuine consumer’s perspective (that’s to say, that they buy wine and drink it, not in a highly curated setting at the winery, but at home). On the other, however, it’s also important to be maximally informed, and that means visiting the wineries and vineyards and learning about production practices, farming, vineyard sites and so on.
Like the other critics I spoke to, he says that being in isolation actually gave him more time to convene with his wine, making his judgements perhaps a little more considered. As for the future, he thinks it has accelerated innovation in a variety of respects. He has already done some virtual masterclasses, with wines re-bottled into small sample tubes under inert gas, and then shipped all over the world. Much to his delight, the wines have tasted just the way they do at the winery. “I don’t think anyone would have bothered to figure out the logistics for all that were it not for Covid-19, but it has actually made for some very convivial and engaging masterclasses, where participants can sign in from the comfort of their home, making it rather more relaxed. It also prompted me – and I wasn’t the only one – to do more videos on IGTV; and the enthusiastic response took me aback.”
Kelley is also rather positive about the way in which social media has affected the way in which he does business. “I only started writing about wine professionally in 2015, so social media has been part of the equation from the beginning for me. I see it as a great positive—especially Instagram, which seems to lend itself to talking about wine and which is also a much more amicable medium than Twitter, which seems to bring out the worst in everyone. Reviewing thousands of wines and publishing tasting notes, as I do, is much more interesting for me if readers can readily contact me with questions or perspectives, affirmation or disagreement. It helps me to know my audience, and I’m sure people who like what I post on social media are in turn more likely to explore my work. It’s a great way to build a community of the like-minded, and via social media I’ve met wine lovers from all over the world, and all walks of life, which has been immensely enriching. I have a good friend in Shanghai, for example, with whom I can spend hours talking about press cycles for white Burgundy or oak barrels or whatever, and we met thanks to nothing more than a serendipitous Instagram encounter.”
Personally, I could sit and listen to wine critics for hours. While my Vivino app is certainly helpful in restaurants – I think I’m going to start losing friends if I continue to use it in their homes – nothing beats the voice of authority. Ever. Listening to experts is like reading deep dives – it simply can’t be replaced. As James Suckling says, while the citizen journalist is here to stay – and why not? – nothing will replace the thousands of hours that genuine wine experts spend in the field, so to speak. Everyone has an opinion – but as has been so adroitly proved by social media, not many are worth listening to.
“Anyone can have an opinion,” says Galloni. “That is not the same thing as being an expert. A wine critic’s expertise is formed by spending a considerable amount of time in wine regions and tasting many thousands of wines each and every year over a long period of time. There are only a few people in the world who can offer that kind of perspective. That’s not to say everyone should like the same wines I like. Our goal is to help readers find wines they will like by distilling everything we have learned over years and decades into our articles and reviews. Being a professional wine critic requires extraordinary stamina to taste thousands of wines every year and deal with considerable travel, along with the mental acuity to follow the progress of many hundreds of estates around the world. I might get lucky every now and then and hit a screaming forehand down the line, but I don’t think Roger Federer has anything to worry about.”
This idea of valued expertise is obviously more of an existential one these days, and it’s a concern shared by Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW, editor-in-chief of Wine Advocate. “I don’t think that the pandemic is journalism’s greatest risk right now,” she says. “The bigger problem is that too many people do not want to pay for news anymore. Traditionally, news outlets have relied on a lot of people paying a little money for a newspaper or a magazine. And all those eyeballs garnered lucrative sponsorship deals. But the market for well-researched, well-written, fact-checked news is shrinking every day, largely because people either don’t know any better or just don’t care. And, of course, wine writing is not immune. Our saving grace when it comes to wine criticism is that wines, by nature, are limited editions. In some cases, if collectors don’t take advantage of buying opportunities as soon as they arise, the opportunity to buy is gone. The advice we give is therefore very time-sensitive. Our expertise and lack of bias are also extremely important for producing the kind of comprehensive database of intellectual property that consumers are still willing to pay for.”
Which is why my wine buyer’s house brick will always sit just behind me in my study. I may not use it all the time, but for whenever I do, I need it close by. Expertise, thankfully, will never go out of fashion. Or style.
This article was originally published in FONDATA, Issue One.
