I have spent hours and hours at wine tastings—in friends’ homes, at vineyards, in wine shops and at the occasional tasting course—and I am always struck by how people make drinking wine into an intellectual exercise. The same for enjoying a bottle over a good meal—it’s “redolent of blackberries in a field of high grass in the Luberon in July”. Sorry, I just don’t get it. To me, wine is a sensual experience, to be savored to the fullest with friends, loved ones, alone, in the sunshine, in the rain, by candlelight, whatever, but not turned into a science class (acknowledging of course that there is a lot of science, not to mention agriculture, at work here). Our friend Jean, one of the most knowledgeable wine guys I have ever met, has a much similar view. One evening, my wife and I were his guest at a benefit dinner; when the head of the organization for whom the dinner was given came over to ask Jean what he thought of the wine, he said (I paraphrase) “the white is ok, the red is shit” or, to try to capture that being said with Jean’s beautiful Parisian accent, “ze white is ok, ze red is sheet”. I thought that pretty much said everything there was to say. He will pull out an amazing grand cru burgundy from the ‘70s or an ‘82 first growth bordeaux and have the same thing to say—either it is good, ok or sheet. So, a number of years ago, being the contrarian I am, I decided to develop a rating system to match those of Robert Parker, Steve Tanzer and others (all of whom I respect greatly), using technical terminology developed by my wife and I when tasting a wine we love—“yum”. So, this is it—one, two or three “yummies” (of course, a wine can be awarded no yummies as well). Pretty simple, right? Without getting carried away, since the boundaries between these categories are rather fluid, here is how I would describe each:
No yummies—self-explanatory, “sheet” or at least to be sipped only when absolutely necessary, sort of like going to the dentist.
One yummy—a lovely wine for the time, place and food but otherwise not necessarily distinguished or be rolled around on your tongue repeatedly. Examples might be a delicious rose from Provence or the Loire, or a crisp Italian or Spanish white, sitting outside at the beach or in the mountains, over a lunch of fritto misto, salade nicoise, grilled fish or spaghetti with fresh herbs from the garden. Perfect!
Two yummies—an excellent, well made, wine, served just at the right time, preferably with the right food. A good Brunello (my personal favorite) or Barolo, well-made and not over-oaked chardonnay, a lovely, mid-age Burgundy like a Gevrey Chambertin, Nuits St. Georges or Morey St. Denis, a not-to-dense California cabernet or a really good red from Spain are just a few which may fall into this category.
Three yummies—rarely awarded, a transcendent wine, the proverbial “nectar of the gods”, to be savored. An old and well-stored Bonnes Mares, Chambertin, first growth Bordeaux, great Italian red like Sassicaia or Ornellaia, Chateau d’Yquem, or the perfect white burgundy, or perhaps a great Marcassin chardonnay. If you are anything like me, drinking a three yummy wine may bring tears to your eyes, thinking of how incredibly lucky you are to be experiencing this wine.
Of course, champagne is in a category by itself!
Long after we came up with this system, I read Cork Dork by Bianca Bosker, an entertaining and informative book about training to be a sommelier, and learned that Paul Grieco, of Terroir wine bar in downtown New York, has a similar approach. Which both validates the approach and calls into question the originality of this system. But since I am not charging anyone for the rating, nor am I expecting anyone to purchase anything based on it, much less make wines around it, I guess we will just go with it.
A highly entertaining and informative read ! Keep it going