Such was the conversation with a colleague last night over a plate of grilled swordfish and a very boring and mundane Chianti Classico we paired it with. We were talking about a young buyer that I had tipped my colleague off to. I said, “She’s young, she’s energetic. She wants to try all these new wines. She’s the future.” Or so I thought.
My colleague thought otherwise. "She may be the future but not as a wine buyer. Maybe as a poster child for what not to do. And she isn’t alone. There are plenty of 'gamers' out there, getting the trips and the gift cards and the long lunches, pretending to be the future."
Joyce Goldstein’s quote above, “We have become accustomed to constant change and instant boredom,” referring to the food movement in America (and noted by Steve Heimoff in a recent post) applies not only to food, as Steve mentioned. A small winery has to encounter many kinds of wine buyers in these days. But the newly empowered wine buyer who has yet to visit a winery or have a repertoire of flavors and tastes, they are calling the shots. They are the new gatekeepers. But they haven’t spent much time outside their gates. And the problem is their lack of experience (and narcissism) might shoot them in the foot.
I recall a wine buyer in an Italian spot, trendy, full of buzz. Courted by wine salespeople, invited to this and that event, made to feel important. When I bought wines off the list that this wine buyer was enamored with, twice, the wines were undrinkable. I cringed as I sent a bottle of Barbaresco back, knowing my chances of showing wine in the future would be impinged because it appeared I was being mean or cranky. A teaching moment it was, but the student out of sight, playing with their Coravin.
This whole thing about constant change has hijacked the wine industry and often the floors of restaurants. Bordeaux wines are no longer important. Forget the fact the Bordeaux is still the epicenter of the wine business from a financial perspective. The wines? Boring. Next.
The Italian vineyard isn’t a landing strip. It’s a labyrinth. And it’s not for the attention deprived. It’s a long walk, not a cat walk.
Yeah, I’m concerned. I see all these great wines being passed over by channel-surfing wine buyers. And that is making the diners nuts. They come to a restaurant (at least the ones with disposable income) for comfort and pleasure, not to be schooled by a tadpole about disgorging wine tableside.
I heard a young wine buyer (I’m sorry, I cannot call them a sommelier, I have too much respect for that position) tell me, unabashedly, that they would rather sell a Movia than a Salon. I wonder how the restaurant owner would feel about that. We have lost sight of basic building blocks. This is unsustainable.
“Yes,” I answer, “it’s very cool. Just like it was when I first brought it into this market in 1982.”
This happens all the freekin' time.
I remember a real knucklehead. He’d been to Italy on a student tour and got the bug. His deal was the “gotcha” wine. Problem was every time he brought one out it was an old friend. It was like he was trying to reinvent history to show him as the “discoverer” of the wine in America. Who cares?
The crazy odd thing about the wine business is how inclusive it is, not exclusive. You want camaraderie? We’ll bring a winemaker over and have lunch, become friends, come stay at their guest house in the Langhe or lux hotel in the Maremma. It’s that easy. But buy a bottle (or a case) of their wine if you like it and become a friend back to them. Maybe that’s the problem, we’re too inclusive, we let anyone in. And some of those folks think it was because they’ve actually done something, earned it. You earn it, everyday. It’s a pay-it-forward kind of thing.
The wine buyer who “left” the trendy Italian spot to pursue freelance “opportunities” might have blown the opportunity of a lifetime. People are nice to buyers. Sometimes buyers mistake that in place of their own personal social network. It’s still a business. I bring an owner of a winery to see you, we taste through eight wines, you seem to like them. The winery owner invites you to come and visit the winery when in Italy, stay at their apartment, dine in their restaurant. What do you do?
Buy a case of the goddam wine…quit looking for the next cool thing. It’s right in front of you. Pay attention. And while you're at it, take notes on the wines you are tasting. No one is that cool.
written by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy
wine blog + Italian wine blog + Italy W