In May, at the organically chic Rouge Tomate in Manhattan, I waded into a trade tasting of the Dalla Terra portfolio, an import stable that has been grown impressively by founder Brian Larky over the course of 20 years.

As tastings go, it was, bottle for bottle among the highest-quality Italian events I’ve attended. In short, Larky’s vision–fully manifested that afternoon–was to assemble an Alps-to-toe group of leading family-owned Italian wineries. The best of Italy, all in one suitcase, so to speak, from Alto Adige to Sicily. Personal favorites which I’ve poured in the past include: Inama Soave Classico; La Valentina Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, Aia Vecchia Lagone (Super Tuscan); Riff Pinot Grigio; Badia a Colitbuono Chiantis; Saracco Moscato d’Asti; and Vietti (just about everything they make from Piedmont). I’ve also long admired the wines of Alois Lageder and Avignonesi, two other Dalla Terra stars.

Credit for all the wines goes to the respective producers, of course. However, it’s worth highlighting Brian Larky’s role as the benevolent entrepreneurial ringleader. He does not make the wine, but it does make it happen for us. Besides enlisting the trust of these leading family-owned Italian wineries, he developed a business model by which American distributors are offered “direct import” pricing, which trickles down to consumers in the form of better value at every price point. 

This tasting was one heaping lovefest of great Italian wine. No surprise given the specific context: 15 vintners (out of the 19 estates) were finishing a seven-city 20th-aniversary swing; and the New York finale also represented their debut with a new NY metro distributor,  Martin Scott Wines. It was crowded, it was loud, it was joyous. It was a room chock full of tastemakers, from the Dalla Terra winery principals and Martin Scott sales reps on through to the sommeliers and retailers (even a coupla press/bloggers). This was the high end of the modern American wine business at work–celebrating a veritable rebirth of a well-chosen and managed portfolio.

Did I walk away with any must-buy wines to rave about? Not really; nor did I expect to. For me the tasting was more about confirmation than discovery. And the point worth passing along here is a simple one, inspired by but not exclusive to Dalla Terra. Today’s universe of available wine is both vast and getting bigger; one of the best ways to shrink that oeno-cosmos down–to make it both more manageable and enjoyable–is to find importers whose portfolios you can uncork with confidence. Dalla Terra is one of those portfolios that works for me in terms of delivering authentic, well-made Italian wines at fair pricing.

Are there other great Italian portfolios? Of course. Winebow, Frederick Wildman, Skurnik and Neil Empson jump to mind. Dalla Terra is hardly the only great, focused import folio within our grasp; there are dozens, but going in that direction would be to digress. The real revelation I want to share now is that part of the evolution of every wine lover, I believe, involves becoming aware of these simpatico portfolios, these pockets of trust.

And the fact that importers like Dalla Terra are thriving in today’s blossoming American wine scene is proof positive that we are living in the Golden Age of Wine. Just think: I was able to witness how the entirety (give or take a DOC here or there) of Italian wine in one room, in one glorioso afternoon. Granted, I am luckier than most, being able to attend trade events like this. Which is all the more reason I feel a responsibility to share these treasure-laden portfolios with wine lovers of all levels of experience.

Let’s start with a simple reality. Alcohol is as much a part of a wine’s identity as the vintage and grape composition. It is the lovechild of fermentation. The whoopee in your grape juice. Alcohol is a pillar of a wine’s structure; it is a driving force in a wine’s body; it is a factor with food. It is also a regulated piece of data with is included in the packaging of every bottle, box and magnum we can buy.

So why do many established wine media deliberately omit alcohol percentages in their official reviews? It’s a question I believe deserves to be pressed. With alcohol levels in wine today reaching levels higher than in previous generations, this omission amounts a veritable abandonment of duty by wine critics who position themselves as consumer advocates.

FINE PRINT

The alcohol in a given wine is represented as a numerical percentage of alcohol by volume (ABV). It is often tucked inconspicuously in a corner, maybe running up a border, or in the tiniest print possible. But it’s there, it’s legal, and it represents important information about the wine itself. Indeed, he differences between wines that are 8% alcohol, and 10%, and 12.5%, and 14.5% are profound.

Here are three common arguments against the usefulness of alcohol % when assessing a wine:
1. People’s thresholds of perception for alcohol—as well as their reactions to it—vary widely
2. Wines can have higher alcohol and still taste delicious and balanced
3. The percentages stated on labels are inaccurate

Each of statement is true. Even considered together, however, these arguments don’t form a compelling rationale for excluding alcohol percentages from editorial reviews.

• Yes, alcohol is experienced differently by everyone. Very well. However, for any given person, a 14.5% wine is going to deliver more alcohol than a 12.5% one. Knowing that in advance can be quite useful. 
• The idea that wines can be big and beautiful is perfectly fine. Yay for full-throttle, balanced wines! In cases such as these, however, there is all the more reason to include the alcohol percentage in a review; alcohol is a prime factor in a wine’s body, or weight, so the % would tangibly support the full-bodied description.
• As for the inaccuracy line of reasoning, the legal tolerance for imprecision on a label is plus/minus 1.5% for wines under 14% ABV, and plus/minus 1% over 14%. Granted, that’s real wiggle room. Keep in mind, however: 1) 14% is a firm dividing line for taxation purposes, meaning the precision above 12.5% is much more certain and tax penalties provide ample motivation not to underestimate; and 2) OK, so the alcohol percentage can vary… so can price—in fact, even more so—but you would never see a major wine magazine excluding retail prices from reviews. So why exclude the moderately slippery legal data for alcohol while including famously hard-to-pin-down pricing data?

It is my contention that wine media standing behind any or all of the above arguments as a reason not to list ABV % in reviews are simply being disingenuous. Aren’t wine reviews meant to helpful to readers? Statements of alcohol—while flawed—represent very useful information. Here are some examples of how knowing the alcohol level is key to certain wine situations:

Riesling. Alcohol is a clue to relative body and dryness, and this becomes more obvious and critical with Riesling because it covers a wide span. An 8% Riesling (like Loosen “Dr. L”) is at the sweeter, lighter end of the spectrum; an 11% Finger Lakes Riesling is likely off-dry; a 12.5% is apt to hit some palates as sweetish and some as dry, but either way it should be fuller-bodied. When I lead tastings and people absolutely adore a Riesling, I make sure they take note of the alcohol; it’s one key to finding other Rieslings they will like.

New World Syrah/Shiraz and Zinfandel. In my experience, I enjoy New World Syrahs and Zins less as alcohol and price go up. Think about it: more expensive (say over $20) bottlings tend to be more concentrated, inky, dense. Alas, my Mollydooker days are over. And I no longer reflexively believe that “old vine” means better. Sure, this is my palate; but I am not alone. And this is a simple example of how if you know your own preferences in alcohol, knowing the labeled percentages when reading about the wines is really useful.

With Food. Many wine pros believe that smaller-framed wines better display food-friendly acidity while bigger ones run the risk both of overpowering the dish and the diner. I do not consider high-alcohol wines by definition to be clunky at the dinner table. But considering alcohol can be critical in certain situations. For a picnic, you may plump for a mild Pinot Grigio over a fuller Pinot Gris. Picking a rosé for salmon, you’d probably want to go with a higher-alc one. For Osso Buco, if you go Super Tuscan, you probably want a heavyweight. And maybe even a Chardo-plainer might be swayed to sip on some barrel-buttressed 14.5% Chardonnay with some grilled corn and shrimp. Situationally, alcohol impacts a wine’s utility with food; knowing the % helps.

Dining Out. When you’re at a restaurant with a group, people are eating different foods, and some people may be driving. This is an ideal time to go for lower-alcohol wines. I’ll never forget what importer Bart Broadbent told me in 2008 when I was researching an article about rising alcohol levels in wine: “When I’m out for dinner I’ll ask the sommelier for three recommendations,” he said. “Then I’ll ask him to bring the one with the lowest alcohol.” If the alcohol is important enough to be a consideration when deciding on a wine in a restaurant, certainly it is important enough to be included in the reviews that people use to make decisions. We are not always going to be in situations with sommeliers; being able to ascertain alcohol along the way when reading about wines would enhance any wine lover’s ability to deal with wine inreal-world situations, such as at a restaurant.

Vintage. In some years and in some places, alcohol becomes a signpost of a particular harvest. In 2003, for example, heat waves rolled across Europe over the summer. With their extra sugar at harvest, most French wines that year yielded higher than normal alcohol levels as well as a riper style. Let’s say you like a riper style, and you discovered you like the wines of a certain region from that 2003 vintage; moving forward, you might be inclined to seek out the higher-alcohol French wines from other vintages. Or, let’s say you are an old-school Old-Worlder; when it comes to hot years like 2003, you might still enjoy wines from that year which clocked in at the 13% or under level. Again, knowledge is power for wine consumers.

REALITY CHECK

Having laid out my case for why alcohol percentage is useful to wine lovers, I do want to turn back to the questions of why major wine media have been so resistant to listing this data in their reviews. On our way there, though, let’s step back and realize that there is indeed an alcohol “issue” at play in wine today.

In short, yesteryear’s rocket fuel passes as today’s norm. The average alcohol by volume in Napa Valley wines back in 1971 was 12.5%; thirty years later it hit 14.8%. Similarly, the Australian Wine Institute tracked 15,000 wines between 1984 and 2004 and saw alcohol levels in reds overall bulge from 12.4% to 14%, and Grenache and Shiraz reach 15% on average. Go into any wine shop… you have to search for red wines under 13% alcohol. It was not all that long ago that 12.5% was the golden standard of dry table wine (or at least dry European table wine); in today’s globalized wine market, 13.5% is commonplace.

There are multiple factors involved in the rising tide of alcohol… brix, hang time, improved yeasts that optimize fermentation… heck, we can even start into global warming. Not to be overlooked is the fact that critics—perhaps not consciously but quite instrumentally—have helped create this situation. How? By favoring riper, fuller-bodied wines and rewarding them with higher ratings. This trend accelerated into what is quite a vicious little cycle thanks to the 100-point scale as marketers and winery principals since the 1990s, eager to clear the magical 90-point bar, have pressured winemakers to work with riper fruit that naturally yields more potent dry wines.

No, I do not have any regression analysis quantifying the degree to which American wine raters favor full-figured wines. But anecdotally we are swimming in the evidence. Since the mid-1990s, when the 100-point scale started to ramp up, higher high alcohol has become one of the pre-requisites of American critics’ top-rated wines, period. Look at any Wine Spectator Top Ten—it’s perennially dominated by powerful reds. Look at the wines that get 94s, 95s and up: they get called “fruit bombs,” “hedonistic,” “full-throttle,” “bold,” “massive,” “opulent” and so on. I am totally fine with the idea that these upper-echelon wines are as balanced as an circus bear on a unicycle. The point is that “monsters” are being held up as the benchmarks of greatness by the points-wielding critics of our time. Meanwhile, consider why some iconic wines that are incapable of mustering big alcohol levels (Chenin Blanc, rosé, Muscadet, Beaujolais…) are also incapable of achieving high ratings from America’s “Flavor Elites.”

Does alcohol alone give wines an edge in blind tastings? Does 15% add two points to a wine’s score? No, I am not prepared to get that clinical. But, returning to the original question of this piece, I am contending that one motivation for magazines like Wine Spectator and The Wine Advocate to NOT run alcohol levels with their reviews is to keep a cloak over the correlation between their highest critical acclaim and big, high-alcohol wines. In turn, the American wine-drinking populace has been led by these critics to embrace their standards of wine quality without the benefit of being made aware that, to a very real extent, those standards are built on a foundation of power over elegance.

CULPRITS OF THE CULT (& SOME ONLINE HEROES)

And let’s not think for a Bordeaux minute that the wine-raters are unaware of their propensity to give high scores to high-alcohol wines, reds in particular. I give Robert Parker credit for never denying his fondness for vinous fireworks; his “hedonistic” is one of the signature positive tags he applies to 14%+ reds. Others are not so eager to admit their complicity. Back in 2006, for instance, Wine Enthusiast {which I edited from 1988-’98} ran a cover story decrying “wine on steroids” without naming a single perpetrator of the supposedly dangerous trend; the WE buying guide, mere pages away, featured loads of high-proof 90+ pointers.

Wine Spectator toyed with the issue back in 2007 after Napa Valley Cabernet specialist Randy Dunn called them (and others) out in an open letter. Dunn, who had made but one wine over 14% alcohol in 28 vintages, wrote: “Most wine drinkers do not really appreciate wines that are 15 – 16+ percent alcohol. They are, in fact, hot and very difficult to enjoy with a meal.” He added: “These new wines are made to taste and spit—not to drink.” His letter implored consumers to ask for wines under 14% alcohol when they dine out, and directly challenged wine writers to include the labeled alcohol percentage when reviewing wines. Dunn was dismissed like a wayward child by Spectator critic James Laube in a blog post on the magazine’s website, however. Ignoring Dunn’s contention that wine critics have led “score chasing winemakers/owners up the alcohol curve,” Laube deflected the point with the errant reasoning {debunked above} that alcohol labeling is imprecise.

Longish story shorter, being a Spectator online subscriber at the time, I asked Laube, in comments to his blog post, why WS would not run alcohol percentages in their reviews. I also hypothesized—quite civilly, mind you—that the reason was to conceal the fact that his highest ratings were being applied to wines at the high end of the alcohol spectrum. I apparently never got the memo about WS blogs being habitable only for members of the choir to whom the Great Infallible Critics preach; the Spectator brass revealed some Gamay-thin skin and promptly evicted me from the comments sections entirely {a moment I now see as a true emancipation}.

Bottom line: I am not the first to raise the heady issue of heady alcohol in wine. {Quick shout-out here to Darrell Corti, the prominent wine merchant and grocer in Sacramento, who decided in 2007 to stop carrying any table wine with alcohol over 14.5%.} But I think the time has come to raise it again, specifically with respect to its glaring omission in wine reviews by the major American wine magazines. So Messrs. Parker, Laube, et al, I suggest that you follow the example set by your English peer, Jancis Robinson, MW, who includes ABV % in reviews at her Purple Pages site. Ditto some respected American bloggers: Enobytes, Drink Nectar; Wannabe Wino; and Wino sapien. And there may {I hope} be more.

Personally, I am not much of a wine reviewer, per se, but I am planning to be even more conscious of the stated alcohol for wines I write about, making sure to include the stated percentage when it exceeds 14.5%. And in classes I teach, I will continue to to announce the alcohol percentage of wines I pour, even if that means having to enlist the aid of someone under 35 who can find and read the fine-print % faster than I can.

Before dipping into what the wine tastes like (which I do understand is important), let’s step back for a look at the bigger picture here: this wine is about the package. It is a box, but not a box (the b-word never appears in any of the press materials, nor on packaging itself). Taller than most 3Ls, and figuratively sharp with its ocho-sided design, the Octavin stands above shorter, squarer examples of the genre. Other box wines look like boxes; Octavin does not. It’s statuesque. Sexy even.

But there is still more going on here. The “Home Wine Bar” is not just jargon. Notice I didn’t even say what kind of wine was inside the Octavin. That’s because there are ten different offerings in the line. Yes, ten. This is a whole international portfolio—launched by California-based Underdog Wine Merchants, a division of The Wine Group—a stylistic crescendo from clean and simple white to robust and structured red. The line contains crowdpleaser wines {Big House is in da house}, iconic wines {Pinot Grigio, NZ SB, Old Vine Zin}, even edgy wines {Hungarian Pinot Noir(!), Osborne’s seven-grape red “Seven”}. Toss in a couple Cali staples (Merlot, Chard, Cabernet) and you basically have a wine bar waiting to happen. {Just add duct tape?}

Yes, yes, I am still planning to get to the wine proper, but not before taking one more sidestep here to re-establish where bag-in-box technology fits, vis à vis bottles. In short, this bulk vessel has three significant advantages:

1. < $ {less dough} 3L b-in-b’s deliver four bottles worth of wine for way less than it would cost in 750mls (Octavins retail from $20 and $24)
2. + eco-friendly {more green} Bulk packaging and lighter materials mean a lower carbon footprint
3. !!! {freshness!} The interior bag gradually collapses without letting air in, thus preventing spoilage; wine stays fresh for six weeks after opening.

The biggest strike against bag-in-box wines has been image. Like screwtops before them, these Large Marges of the wine world are a turnoff for drinkers who like the comfort (for some the cachet) of classic 750ml cork-finished bottles. Until now. Octavin transcends the box category. This convergence of form and function takes a product people already like—wine—and delivers it with greater cost savings, enhanced convenience and extended use. It’s good taste meets common sense… a proverbial potable “better mousetrap.”

The Test Drive

I took the Monthaven 2008 Central Coast Chardonnay (one of the ten Octavin wines) to the “Trendiest Wines” class I taught at Institute of Culinary Education (ICE) on April 17th. After we had finished tasting through Prosecco, Torrontes, Finger Lakes Riesling, Gruner Veltliner and Provence rosé, I pulled out the Octavin, explained it was a Chardonnay, and invited anyone to try the wine during our mid-class break. As expected, the people who already liked California Chardonnay were very pleased. The Monthaven is solid, well-made, balanced—metaphorically, it’s a line-drive single up the middle: medium-bodied (13.5% alcohol), plenty fruity (apple, peach), just tangy enough to be juicy, and modestly oaked. In short, this is true Chardonnay—easily on par with bottles priced in the teens. People found the package itself pretty attractive as well; the price, even more so.

The ICE experience reminded me that most consumers have simply not paid much mind at all to the bag-in-box category. Despite booming (up 24% in 2009, according to Nielsen, vs. 2% for all table wine), box wines have been low-profile in terms of shelf visibility. This is perfectly understandable given how much other, flashier things are happening in the fast-evolving wine scene. And it amounts to a bit of an advantage for the 3L bulk-convenience category.

Which brings me to perhaps the most critical factor that promises to separate Octavin from its bulk-ish peers. Brand power. No, not the brand “Octavin” (which still sounds enough like a cartoon character to make the corners of my mouth curl upward). The line is anchored by none other than Big House Red and Big House White, a venerable Impact “Hot Brand” that started life in the 1990s as the brainchild of Randall Grahm (a pioneering anti-cork guy) and has been expanded dramatically (from 30,000 cases in 2006 to 150,000 now) by The Wine Group. This wine has sold (and still sells) iabout n bottle like hotcakes at the $10-$12 price point. Why has it been a winner? Simply put: the wine is tasty juice with a neat image and a good price. The Red is a full-flavored but smooth-textured fruity beauty, with a spicy Mediterranean spirit and fruity New World heart. Big House White is a crowd-pleasing, aromatic no-brainer of a blanc.

And now Big House comes in a hot new package that makes it both cheaper and longer-lasting? Wow, might as well stick a “HUG ME” sign on it. With $22 Big House as the lead dog, priced, I see the whole Octavin line becoming a huge hit.

Behind the Brand

I had the good fortune to meet Georgetta Dane, the winemaker of the Big House wines, in New York on a trade/press visit. After a short commiseration over the discontinuation of Big House Pink, here are some things I learned about Octavin and Big House….

While there is a group identity in the packaging, the wines represent distinct projects, each carefully planned from vineyard on up (as opposed to purchased bulk wine), and each designed to be representative of a focused wine type. Silver Birch Sauvignon Blanc is from Marlborough, aka HQ for NZ SB; it is remarkably un-aggressive by NZ grapefruit-squeezed standards (which I find very refreshing). The Monthaven Cabernet, Merlot and Chardonnay represent straightforward Central Coast quality. The Boho Vineyards Old Vine Zin hails appropriately from Lodi, delivering intense, brambly flavor (with merciful 13.7% alcohol). Seven, by Bodegas Osborne, was spawned in a high-tech vineyard in Spain’s heartland, with native grapes given a chance to party with Cab, Merlot and Shiraz, resulting in wine that walks an earthy-yet-fruity line. (I can’t vouch for the two Hungarian entries in the Octavin line—Pinot Evil Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio; interestingly, these are produced at the source, then transported in HUGE bladders to get packaged in the States.)

The positioning of the Octavin wines as artisanal is not hyperbole; forget the packaging–this wine is the result of thoroughly modern and extensive network of grape sources in California’s best regions. Working in what they call California’s “largest small-lot winery” allows Monthaven’s Jeff Yamamato and Georgetta Dane keep dozens of lots separate. In Georgetta’s case, the diversity of lots is almost mind-boggling. Working with vineyards that represent dozens of red and white varieties, she calls herself “a kid in a candy store.” She says that she is given no limits or directives on how much of anything to use, but her aim undoubtedly is to maintain the style that has made Big House a perennial favorite.

Twenty varieties in all make it into Big House Red. Georgetta likens her approach to building the Red to how a perfume is structured. Petite Sirah and Petit Verdot form the base; Italian varieties (which she calls “insanely fruity”) and a little Zin take up the middle; judicious use of generous Grenache, Viognier and Malvasia provide top notes. Big House White is her idea of a “fun summer wine.” It’s comprised of almost half Malvasia (“like a bowl of flowers”), plus Muscat (for orange blossom and spice) and Viognier; Gruner Veltliner and Pinot Grigio are added “to temper the florals.” The result is juicy yet refreshing, hardly overpowering and gently aromatic. Both Big Houses check in at 13.5% alcohol.

Big House is not the first brand to be dually packaged in both “bag” and bottle, but it is without doubt the most high-profile. If nothing else, the popular brand’s vault into 3L terroir-tory is proof that the barrier between bag and glass is one step closer to moot. Meeting Georgetta (who speaks in a velvety Romanian accent) reminded me of an under-repeated truism about winemaking: it’s easy to make a couple hundred cases of great wine from one vineyard; but making 100,000 cases of really good wine from a lot of vineyards and for not much money… now that’s hard. No wonder she is giving a talk about large-scale artisanal winemaking at the Society of Wine Educators conference this summer.

Second Thoughts?

It’s been more than a week now since I got my first taste of the Octavin series. There’s still plenty of Chard in my Octavin tank, and I remain convinced that the entire line is going to score big with wine lovers. In particular, I see the Octavin appealing to:

• restaurants {duh, premium wine by the glass at <$1 per serving, with no spoilage}
• caterers {no messing with corkscrews plus repeat use = priceless!}
• performing arts venues {what better wine to pour into plastic cups?}
• party hosts {whether it’s a picnic, a reception, tailgating, office party…}
• smart folk {for frugal people who view wine as a part of everyday life, this thoroughly modern way of delivering joy by the glass will be a welcome addition to countertop and/or fridge}

Remember: as with all wines—boxed, bottled and beyond—the wine doesn’t know what package it’s in. But in the case of the Octavin, if it did, I think the wine would be downright psyched to know it’s hanging out inside the coolest package around. For more about the wine and the line, visit Octavin Home Wine Bar.

NOTE: In in the interest of keeping both readers and the FTC fully informed, wines sampled for this post were provided free of charge. Additionally, I was treated to a very tasty lamb burger over lunch with the winemaker and a PR representative at The Breslin. We did not have wine at lunch, but I’d bet my corkscrew that it would have gone swimmingly with the Big House Red, the Boho Zin or the Osborne Seven.

And now, an updated, wined-up version: Where’s Hardy?

Yes, Hardy Wallace. He of that Very Goode Job. He now of Healdsburg. He who rose American-Idol-like from a mass of vinous videos to emerge as the Social Media One. He of the smiling mug emblazoned above Times Square.

Alas, where is Hardy now? Has the enormity of the Internet reduced him to virtual Waldo status—just one smiling, skinny-specs avatar among googols of cyberpeeps He started when, August 15? Sure, he had to relocate from Atlanta, but come on—that’s a month ago. Where is the resounding social-media quake from Hardy clanging together his cymbal-ic followings on Twitter and Facebook?

Let’s start with some definite places Hardy is NOT. He is not playing tennis with Serena Williams, sharing a microphone with Kanye West or lying with Joe Wilson. Nor, as far a we know, has he changed last name to Wallacé, to rhyme with Beyoncé (though we would not be surprised to learn that Rick Bakas, one of Hardy’s former co-candidates for the Murphy-Goode gig, is now answering to “Bacchus” in his parallel role at St. Supéry).

On the other hand, Las Vegas is a possibility. Perhaps Hardy is still in the research phase of the “jobbe,” trawling casinos in a mission to understand the roots of Murphy-Goode’s gambling-themed labels—Snake Eyes, All In, Liar’s Dice, Wild Card—and he never stopped playing. Or, when visiting every cranny of the Murphy-Goode operation—from vineyards to winery to offices—maybe Hardy got dragged into an endless debate over whether the hyphen in Murphy-Goode gets pronounced.

Is he plotting something ginormous…the Murphy-Even-Gooder Energy Drink? Or has he been tied to a chair for weeks while lawyers go over every-little-thing he can’t do as a “spokesperson” for a product that contains alcohol.

Speaking of sitting, maybe Hardy sitting cross-legged and yogi-like atop a peak in Alexander Valley, waiting for a bolt of inspiration before firing up his laptop with its two-hour battery. Or he is down valley, whispering inspiration in the ears of Rachel Alexandra, Jess Jackson’s racehorse….

Aha—that’s it: Hardy was going deep undercover for a few weeks to make sure he did not earn a “nomination” for the Wine Enthusiast “Wine Star” Awards and have to commit to purchasing multiple pricey seats at the NYC gala on Monday night in January. Mission accomplished. Hardy was passed over for “Lifestyle Correspondent of the Year.” However, he (and Rachel Alexandra) may still be in the running for the “To be announced!” Lifetime Achievement Award, considering the number of times Jackson Family Estates brands have brought home “Starfish” hardware.

Here at the Skewer, we were starting to get concerned about Hardy’s whereabouts, not in the least because weeks ago {before he become “Oh, That Hardy”}, the young man from Atlanta pledged to serve in some capacity on Palate Press. Next thing we knew, the gig was Hardy’s, but he grew quieter than the major league baseball pennant races!

Today, however, we are proud to announce that we have a bead on the Hardster. A veritable sighting, or at least a delightful “hearing.” Hardy, fellow Palate Presser David Honig and I taped a spot last evening with Randy and Kaz for http://winebizradio.com, set to air Friday (Sept. 18)  from 4:00-5:00 Pacific time on KSYV 91.3 Sonoma. You can also catch it at the KSYV site or at winebizradio, where I believe it can be downloaded as a podcast/iTune or simply taken intravenously.

Hardy was/is/will be in fine fettle during the spot, having just finished “settling in” to his M-G stint and cranking up his own dedicated blog. The guy has infectious optimism, plus he really does know his wine. I am not giving away anything by telling you Hardy has big things in store, starting with a mustache with meaning far beyond its motley gestalt of whiskers. (Apparently the mustache has even been noticed by Healdsburg locals, when they get up real close.)

So check out  winebizradio Friday night (or later, if it conflicts with your brisket). You’ll also hear some more of our thoughts on Palate Press, plus a surreal firsthand traffic report from the inimitable Kaz (two days old by airtime) and Randy’s unorthodox but very natural idea for wine storage.

* * * * *

In other pluggish news, I got some ink in the Chicago Tribune this week, serving as one of three wine-food pros asked to tame so-called “winekillers” like artichokes, asparagus and vinegar. Check it out, slideshow-style!

The highly respected trade magazine Wines & Vines ran a nice article on Palate Press.

And in coming months, I will be teaching a few very fun recreational wine classes at Institute of Culinary Education in Manhattan:
Wines by Style, Saturday 10/9/2009, 7:00-9:00 pm
Austrian & German Wines, Saturday 11/7/2009, 7:00-9:00 pm
Catch the TrendiestWines, Saturday 12/5/2009, 7:00-9:00 pm

Looking back, best white wine I had this summer was the Matthiasson 2008 Napa Valley White Blend. Have had two vintages previous and this one, decanted and poured during the Wine Bloggers Conference, was just as complex, deep and sublime. What I loved most about it was how it was…different. Fruity and earthy. Powerful and elegant. A real whodathunkit, combining Sauvignon Blanc, Ribolla Gialla and Semillon. [Full disclosure: I went to high school with Jill Klein, co-proprietor; back then she was just one of my sister’s friends. Did not even know she was in Napa 'til a couple years ago. Hubby Steve makes the vino.]

Surprise twist of the summer? I took a re-liking with Chardonnay, inspired by excellent bottlings from Stonestreet and Dutton-Goldfield. Yeah, they’re big and lusty, but secretly satisfying in a fling-with-an-old-girlfriend kind of way. Even better: the rim-rocking slam-dunk Tandem 2006 Manchester Ridge Vyd bottling from Mendocino Ridge.

I started recommending Russian River Pinots a lot this summer, mainly because I can’t remember having a bad one. Ever. And they seem to all deliver both fruit and spice but ne’er too much oak. Really like the J Vineyards regular RRV bottling for about $20. For a splurge: Eric Kent. One California Pinot that keeps haunting me: the Paraiso 2007 Santa Lucia Highlands Pinot Noir; lipsmacking.

Maybe the most surprising wine-based beverage I tried all summer was a cocktail. At the Coffee Shop in Union Square in Manhattan, on a lazy, hot afternoon. I forget the name and have not dared try to replicate, but the dreamy combo included: Champagne, New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, simple syrup and a muddled red grape that was like a prize at the bottom of the cereal box. The elixir seemed to seep straight into my veins with every sip.

OK, now that I have those wines off my cerebellum, on to a more cerebral topic: I am back in the Wine Media Game. For the past month or so, this blog has been very…quiet…as I have been working on the launch of a new website: www.palatepress.com. If you are reading this on Wednesday, 09/09/09, do not click through just yet. The official launch is tomorrow, September 10, 2009.

In short, Palate Press is a natural next step in online wine media: an aggregation of very talented bloggers (and a few traditional scribes) creating original content for a centralized site. My title is Editor in Chief, but I see mysef as part cat-herder, part cheerleader, and part mentor as I help turn some very neat ideas into nice bitesize stories.

Palate Press is an idea whose time is NOW. Print wine magazines continue to NOT GET IT as they churn out bloated buying guides and act as if there are no perspectives worth considering other than their own. And yet wine, in the midst of economic rough seas, is more deserving than ever of an even-handed, open-minded source of fresh thinking. I am very proud to be a part of this new-age paperless venture. It’s going to have fantastic editorial with the thoroughly modern bonus of reader participation. Yes, every article will be a literal blog post, meaning that we want YOU to read, think and add your two sheckels. It is going to be a fun and interesting ride, with six stories launching on 9/10, and then stories added daily beginning the following week. So please, stop by and check it out at www.palatepress.com.

Shameless self-promotion department. I want to share news of a few events I’ll be doing in coming weeks:

I am teaching three classes at Institute of Culinary Education in NYC this Fall: Wine By Style, Oct. 17; Wines of Germany & Austria, Nov. 7; Catch the Trendiest Wines, Dec. 5. Each class features the same jokes but different wines. Seriously now, I approach each class the same way, using the wines in the glass as a route to the Big Picture of what’s going on in wine today. Great wines and good times, for $80. Details at http://iceculinary.com .

Shameless cross-promotion department. My experience at the Wine Bloggers Conference is still reverberating. In case anyone missed it, here is the article I wrote about it for winebusiness.com: http://tinyurl.com/q7pmvk.

Planning a follow-up of odds and ends from WBC09 still, but meanwhile, check out this experiment of “reverse social media” as the inimitable “Wine Bard” attempts to wed in wine country: http://www.winebardweds.com/ . And watch for another WBC-spawned adventure, http://projectyine.com/ , as @sharayray and @thebeerwench (as they are known on Twitter) make like Thelma and Louise and go cross-country in search of what makes wine click with Generation Y.

Last but most important, a humble little note to say that I am very excited about helping launch a new wine content site in September. Palate Press (http://palatepress.com) represents the next giant leap in the movement of wine dialogue from print to cyberspace. Most exciting for me has been the unprecedented aggregation of brain-power and palate-power from a roster of contributors that represents some of the sharpest wine writing on the planet. Details to come….

The Wine Skewer has learned that thanks to secret negotiations hammered out this weekend over copious quantities of nondescript Merlot at an undisclosed wine bar in San Francisco, aides to Governor Schwarzenegger and President Obama are expected to announce that relief is at hand for millions of American enthusiasts whose wine cellars once seemed cool and wonderful but are now hallmarks of inefficiency and/or bad taste.

According to a reliable inside source (the bartender), the plan—dubbed “Greeno for Vino” until someone comes up with something catchier—will cover the following categories.

Trophy Bottles. Sure they used to looked great on a table in a chic restaurant back when you still had an expense account, but today any extra-tall, extra-wide, extra-heavy bottle is looking and feeling like the wine-world equivalent of a Brontosaurus. With the carbon footprints moving into American consciences, it’s hard to justify keeping such once-prized trophy bottles around, let alone opening them. Greeno-for-Vino officials are requesting that all such bottles be carefully lifted (preferably using cranes and pullies to prevent hernias) and transported to a drop-off center, where the owners will be given triple the volume of varietal bag-in-box wine, representing just about the same weight as the deep-punted, rack-straining behemoths.

Ooooold Bordeaux. To most American citizens raised on soda and juice, aged Bordeaux has about as much fruit as Anthony Dias Blue has credibility. Who wants room-filling aromas of pencil lead, cigar box and forest floor nuances? (Smelling salts work much better.) And who needs flavors that border on socks soaked in vinegar, not to mention yucky sediment? Under the Greeno-for-Vino plan, only sub-First Growth Bordeaux would be eligible (reason being there are plenty of suckers still chasing Lafite, Mouton et al in the secondary market). Unlucky holders of unauctionable clarets more than 15 years old will be able to exchange them for an equivalent volume of young Meritage or the exact sum of $9.99 per bottle (which should enable them to purchase something drinkable from California).

Oaky Chards. They’re big, they’re buttery and they get high scores from critics whose tongues have callouses from years of swishing and spitting 25 wines a day. But they smell like the Home Depot lumber aisle and tend to stab the palate with the sharpness and acrid woodiness of boxful of toothpicks. Yes, Uncle Sam can read the writing on the tasting-room wall: oak is out, steely freshness is in. Chardophiles stuck with these butterscotched brutes will be able to turn them in for equal volumes of Chardonnays labeled “unoaked,” “naked,” et al; or for seven euros, which should by them a nice fresh Mâcon-Villages next time they are in France.

Wine Books. Okay, it’s true: Jancis Robinson’s Oxford Companion to Wine makes a dandy doorstop. But now that we live in the Age of Ratings, who really needs paper-based wine prose by the likes of 20^th-century icons Johnson, Asher, Bespaloff and Lynch (let alone modern scribes like Colman, Oldman and Feiring). Indeed, ever since Frank Prial retired and stopped mentioning Alexis Lichine every other Wednesday, wine “authors” are rarely even heard in polite conversation anymore. All dusty old wine tomes will be accepted; those who turn them in will be handed a two-dollar bill and told instead to visit yawn.com—er, make that wine.com—where they can see only the highest ratings for any given wine on the market, from more sources than one can count on one hand, without potential distraction caused by words that put the wine in any context whatsoever.

Charity Auction Leftovers. It has long been suspected that a majority of large-format bottles sold for illogical sums of money at sundry charity events are actually recycled over and over and over again. Here is your chance to break the vicious cycle. Bring your tired magnums, your weary jeroboams, your who-knows-when-you-could-ever-uncork-’em methuselahs to a Greeno-for-Vino drop-off station and you will be sent home with a tax-deductible $99 voucher which can be used as U.S. currency in future charity auctions; or go home with a mixed case of screwtop, Tetra-Pak and plastic-bottled wine that you can open tonight without fear or remorse.

Wines Rated 83 Points or Less by Wine Enthusiast. In their tireless efforts to remain relevant in a wine-ratings scene dominated by “RP” and “WS,” editors at Wine Enthusiast magazine several years ago stopped printing reviews of wines scoring under 85 points (except, of course, if the producer/marketer bought a label-reproduction ad). They also never disclose any scores under 80, online or in print, ostensibly to spare wineries the ignominy. In fact, according to a simple bell-curve analysis conducted by the National Bureau of Lies & Statistics, in the 2009 calendar year to date, of 6,488 wines reviewed by the Enthusiastics, less than 10% fell into the 80-83 point range, while a full 8% earned precisely 84 points and only 58 (or less than 1%) received an 80-point score. The conclusion: wines meriting under 80 points from the magazine’s critics are statistically rarer than confirmed sightings of Bigfoot. In turn, this means that all wines rated under 84 points by this magazine should be considered borderline undrinkable—despite the mag’s buying guide key that translates 83 points to “good” and 80-82 points as “acceptable…in casual, less-critical circumstances.” Greeno-for-Vino officials are urging wine drinkers not to waste time pondering just what sort of “circumstances” these wines could suit. Instead, those who may have somehow encountered such low-rated wines are urged to place them in Ziploc bags and exchange them for $1.99 each, or for an equal number of bottles rated 70 points by Wine Spectator.

In related news, a spokesperson in Governor Schwarzeneggar’s office confirmed that while his negotiators were lobbying hard for Greeno-forVino legislation to include California red wines featuring 14+% alcohol, these high-octane Zins, Cabs, etc. were dropped from the program when someone suggested that the public would be better served by requiring said bottles to display stickers instructing drinkers to “add 1 oz. water for every 5 oz. wine before consuming.”

A fairly large, fine-wine-oriented distributor was looking for volunteers to pour at their portfolio tasting on a Monday, in Manhattan, in September. Said the email:

“The work is pretty straightforward: They’ll need you from noon to 6:00 to pour wines; you’ll receive a fact sheet beforehand that will cover information about the region whose wines you’ll be working with. For your efforts, you will be compensated with a mixed case of their wines.”

Note that this email came to me under the auspices of a dues-driven association of New York wine media professionals, so my response needed to account for the fact that I am a member wine writer/blogger/communicator. That said, what do you think my reaction was? Here’s what ran through my head, roughly in order…

• Hey, I’ve been to that tasting—it’s great. Mark down the date…. Would I really want to miss it by working it?…
• Mixed case? What’s that…about $120 worth of wine? Guess it depends on whose table you’re at…
• Is a box of wine worth driving in for and shlepping back?…
• Six hours work? For the equiv of about $20 an hour. Ehhhhh….
• Wonder if a bunch of people could split the shift, and split the wine….

Not for a fleeting moment did I consider the potential dark, Faustian side of this bargain… namely that of {potentially} appearing to be an official representative of the distributor or a specific producer. And yet, as this email seeped through the INBOXes of our several-dozen members of this group, the prevailing sentiment among REPLY ALL responses ranged from simple disapproval to outrage {replete with big words like “completely inappropriate,” “offensive” and “demeaning.”}

Holy Cuvée! And here I was about to ask if any of my wine-scribblin’ buds wanted to go Dutch. Am I that out of touch with what it means to be a wine writer? How is it that an upstanding and outstanding distributor came up with a seemingly bright idea to enlist the wine-knowledgeable assistance of local wine professionals… and it basically backfired?

In the aftermath, it is now understood that such propositions will no longer be passed along to the general membership of our group; so all is well. But the incident stuck in my mind’s craw. I wondered: what would bloggers say? Would this situation provoke agita or salivation?

It’s not worth speculating; if the past few months have taught wine bloggers and blog-followers anything, it is that there are as many legitimate perspectives as there are legitimate bloggers. I can not fault any of my media colleagues, who drew their line in the sand quite adamantly. 

On the other hand, it seems that such lines are being drawn with greater and greater infrequency…and for good reason. The exploding world of wine and the burgeoning desire to share and communicate about it has pushed the basic concept of wine-professional ethics way past the area of black and white.

The 21^st century reality is such that there is no consistent code for what is proper, right, appropriate. It’s all up to us, individually as professionals, to set our own thresholds of industry involvement and ethics therein.

Personally, would have no problem appearing at any function on the pouring side of a table where fine wine is being enjoyed. I see that as a valuable experience. Fun, educational, interactive. And would I worry about being perceived as some sort of day-labor shill? Not in the least.

Interestingly, my mind-juggling over the ethics of this “opportunity” was also fueled by two other developments that arrived via email…

• Via a comment left by at drvino.com (link here), the news director of KFWB radio in Hollywood  confirmed that Anthony Dias Blue’s “Happy Hour” broadcasts are 100% advertorial. Set up, signed and paid for. Which now gives ADB credibility that rivals World Wrestling Federation bouts, and makes his grandstanding about bloggers and ethics about as compelling as David Ortiz on steroids. {This news comes on top of Dr. Vino’s previous exposure of the “exposure package” that can be purchased from ADB’s The Tasting Panel magazine.}
• I also recceived an extensive, rah-rah email from Wines of Chile USA, dishing out the names of 20+ restaurants and retail shops participating in the fourth annual Salud! Chilean Wine Fest in NYC and DC, set for Sept.18-30. The e-letter also announced an October “sommelier summit” to take place in Chile as well as a November media trip; names and affiliations were included for both {sorry, no Jay Miller this time…the Parker leash law is apparently working}. Do you think that the wine pros going on said trips are paying their own way? I don’t. And I don’t think there’s anything wong with that, presuming transparency about the trip down the  line.

In fact,  applaud the marketing efforts of www.winesofchile.org; no reason why Chilean wines shouldn’t be put right under the noses of important gatekeepers. As for Anthony Dias Who, I shake my head; he is shaping up to be on of the wine industry’s Great Imposters.

This is, fortunately, the Age of Transparency. Questions regarding ethics of writers can and will continue to ooze through the wine world, accelerated by the Internet and bloggers. The only certainty I see, moving forward, is that every wine-media professional—be they writer, blogger or jack-of-sundry-trades—is going to be compelled to develop and maintain his/her own standards regarding the perpetually gray area of relationships with wine’s commercial side.

The Wine Skewer was treated to a sneak peek at the complete Porneauxxx line, at a 25-cent movie theater just off Times Square in Manhattan.

Chateau Porneauxxx 2006 “Triple X Cuvée” Bordeaux. The flagship blend of the line, this classic French beauty makes you want to uncork it with your favorite mate on a shaggy rug in front of a fire. Like a vintage, cepia-tone burlesque photo, Porneauxxx teases, offering layers of titillating pleasure—cedary earthiness with a touch of plum on the nose, currants popping on the palate, palpable tannins stroking the tongue before slinking away in a way that just makes you want more. But Chateau Porneauxxx is not just a tease: behind every label is passport-size photo of, well, real porn, for your eyes only. We don’t want to tell you what the picture is…think of it as a sort of blind date with Bordeaux.

Righteous Shugga 08. Straight from the streets, this tricked-out blend of mm-mmm-mystery grapes is blingin’ inside and out. Sure, baby, there’s some Shiraz. Some sin Zin too. Maybe Malbec, and a touch-o’-sugar tickling your tongue like nobody’s bizness. And mos definitely it’s been around the block, in a goooood way. It’s got the beat, that’s all you got to know. Just open wide and say ahhhhh. Wine out.

69 Vineyards 2002 “Both Ways” Pinot Gris/gio, Willamette Valley Oregon & Alto Adige, Italy. Who needs a 96 when you’re offered a 69? There’s a lot of Pinot going on in this wine, which is half classic old-world Grigio charm, half new-world Gris braggadacio. Subtle meets sass. Mild meets muscle. Why Alto Adige and Willamette? Well, they sound sexy. The 500ml bottle is a perfect fit for two. Just add finger food.

Stripped 2008 Chardonnay, Sonoma Coast. Unfettered by a cloak of oak, this pure, vivavcious, all-fruit vixen is lookin’ for love in all the right places—maybe even your kitchen table. Imagine this wine as the Chard next door, who shows up one day butt nekked and just wants to play. Fresh peach on the nose, pineappley zing in the mouth, bootylicious tail. It’s the whole package, but you don’t get wood. Why Sonoma Coast? Because sipping Stripped goes well with skinnydipping.

Bodegas Culo Grande 2007 “Big Butt” Chardonnay, Spain. This buxom, buttery Chard is all about the butt, as in the 130-gallon casks normally used in Sherry production, here applied to that wood-sucking grape Chardonnay. Actually, the barrel itself has very little effect on the wine; but the oak chips, powder and staves we stick in there add up to one bottom-heavy wine with the toasty oak in high-def. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but for big-butt lovers, once you go here, there is nothing else quite like it.

Spike Heel 2006 Pinot Noir, New Zealand. From the brave new frontier of Pinot pleasure, this Kiwi demands not just your attention, but also your obedience. Unscrew. Sniff. Sip. Swallow. Take a bite of food. Repeat. Your flesh will tingle with cherry-savory delight. Meee-ooow.

Booty Box 2008 Riesling, Mosel Valley. Talk about shedding an old image, this off-dry wonder from the Land of Impenetrable Gothic-Script Labels is a study in simplicity. It’s 100% Mosel Valley Riesling, left a tad sweet, and packaged in foodsafe plastic sack inside a recycled cardboard box. Talk about flexible: Booty Box is perfect for a quick “nooner” quaff, but it stays fresh longer than Dirk Diggler in Boogie Nights.

B-S-D 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley. Hey, you know who you are. We know who you are. One Big Swinging Deal. You’ve got to have the best, the biggest, the ballsiest. So here ya go: 100% Napa Cab, aged 12 months in 100% new French oak, then racked into 100% new American oak for 12 months more. Gives you a stiffy just thinking about it, don’t it?

Cougar Trail 2008 “Young Stud” Red Blend, Paso Robles. Ah, the joys of youth. Just a pup by most red-wine standards, this strapping red is a real favorite of frisky, mature ladies just lookin’ for a some youthful fun. Big and muscular, if not so bright, this kitchen-sink blend is just right for laying out on the kitchen table.

Vigna V’gina 2007 Barolo, Piedmont, Italy. Hey, get your mind out of the gutter! Vigna V’gina is not an inside joke of a wine from some horny winemaker in the hills of Abruzzo. It is a real man’s Barolo. Its seriously musky aromas of tar, truffle and roses give way to earthy, funky, brambly fruit and tannins that imbue the wine with a practically hirsute texture. Not for the faint of heart, this rustically delizioso red is a bit of an acquired taste, but some guys can’t get enough of the stuff.

Spanky Tushwhack 2006 “Red Cheeks” Red Wine, Barossa Valley, Australia. The Aussies have never been the type to shy away from cheeky wine names, but this one takes a special “seat” in the canon. It started with a mix of naughty overripe Merlot and Grenache grapes which we paddled into submission by laying on the lumber hard and fast, all the while exclaiming, “Bad wine! Bad wine!” Ah, now that’s better, yes?

 Stimulus 2008 Malbec, Mendoza, Argentina. Fresh from a country whose economy tanked long before financial failure became fashionable, Stimulus Malbec is all about the package. Sure, this wine represents all that is great about Argentina’s inky, affordable signature red. But, really, check out that unit! Standing 12 inches when fully erect, this tubular sensation takes bag-in-box technology to new heights. And unlike some dude you meet in a wine bar, who’s gone the next morning, this three-liter red can stick around for weeks if you’d like.

Qinky Qognac. This exotic distillate puts some real kink in your after-dinner denouement. Qinky hails from the Charente district of France, where an amalgam of native herbs and spices are used to infuse the 80-proof spirit with an exotic power that exceeds even absinthe. Think leather, chains, whips, latex…. Why do you think it comes in a plain brown box?

{Thanks to Katie P. of http://gonzogastro.wordpress.com for graphics.}

– XXXOOO –

[tignanello tail]. This mash-up of high-end and low-end wine was bound to happen. On one hand we have the 16 {or is it 60… who’s counting?} generations of winemaking Antinoris, whose Super Tuscan pre-eminence has been reduced to worthless press clippings as their $100 blends draw more dust than glances on U.S. retail shelves. On the other hand, we have Yellow Tail, the Jammy Juggernaut of Oz, King of Critters, the wine that every 30-years-and-under American can remember, pronounce and afford. Look for bottlings of this new joint venture to appear for $19.99 {hey, it’s the new $99.99}.

Vineyard Cemeteries. Do you believe in heavenly terroir? Or perhaps an afterlife longer than the finish on Montrachet? If so, consider having your remains laid to rest on a steep, rugged Napa Valley hillside. Plots are now available at several Formerly-Known-As-Cult Wineries that are now desperately seeking revenue since their mailing-list orders have tanked. The Wine Skewer can’t name the properties, as to do so would result in debilitating embarassment on the part of the once-culty brands, not to mention critic backlash if word gets out that mere mortals are going subterranean in hallowed soils.

Swiss Chard-onnay. It’s a vegetable. It’s a wine. It’s both! Coming soon to a farmer’s market near you, this hybrid—forged by irrigating Swiss Chard plots with bulk Chardonnay—offers generous aromas, full body {for a vegetable} and just a hint of oak on the finish. Great steamed, sauteed or raw, straight from a Riedel glass.

Pro-Jell-O. Prosecco’s relatively modest price tags has kept exports afloat, but that’s no reason for Veneto vintners not to seek new market tie-ins. Back in the late 1990s, Jell-O brand gelatin came out with a “Champagne Jell-O” that you simply mixed with seltzer. Joining forces with Prosecco, Jell-O has gone bubbly again, though this time you mix it with the light Italian bubbly. Soon to be released in one flavor: peach. Think of it as a firm, wiggly Bellini.

Riesling Body Wash. Soap is not enough for the average American teenage male. Today’s social climate calls for pungent “body wash,” which young men are wont to apply in abundance from head-to-toe. Now they can smell less like cologne, and more like a dashing connoisseur from Cologne, Germany, thanks to this new formula. It’s a little floral, a little peachy, a little sweet…with a clean finish that screams “chick magnet.”

The Running of the Bulls…in Rioja! The famous macho-macho-man festival of Pamplona turned uglier than usual this summer with several notable gorings. The Wine Skewer has learned that the bodegas of La Rioja, producers of arguably Spain’s finest red table wines, have invited a dozen bulls to run through their vineyards this coming harvest season. The idea is to tempt and taunt them with ripe red grapes, not lunatics racing through narrow streets. Experts suspect the lack of violence will not draw much media attention, but the Riojanos are trusting that their more humane version will nonetheless please wine critics, who typically favor red wines that are “strong like bull.”

The Pinot Grigio Cooler. Move over, Poland Springs: there’s a new hotspot over by the Xerox machine. It’s the brand new Pinot Grigio Cooler. Spawned by Italy’s largest cooperative, the nifty twist-tap dispenser holds five full gallons of pale, light-bodied, mild but crisp vino and is guaranteed to please the workers in any midsize corporate office who have not yet been fired. That is, except the snobs who crack jokes about preferring Pinot Noir; those guys deserve a “rosé slip.”

The National Rifle Appellation. Who says Midwesterners are sloooooow? Wineries in the recently minted American Viticultural Area known as the Upper Mississippi River Valley are moving quickly to promote their huge swatch of prime vine land. Hoping to build momentum since the TTB-approved 29,914-square-mile AVA was announced derisively in several online wine outlets earlier this month, a group of producers has just struck a deal with the National Rifle Association to make Upper Mississippi River Valley wines the official tipple of the NRA. “We wanted to start off our new PR campaign with a bang,” said vintner Jed Lowbarrel, who grows grapes in all four of the states covered by the AVA. No word yet on whether packing heat will help the wines get 90-point ratings, but considering that UMRV reds are typically made from French hybrids such as Marechal Foch, Frontenac and Saint Croix, don’t expect them to score much better than wines from east of the Mississippi.