There are some questions that inevitably keep us up at night; tossing and turning on our dingy little futons while the “friendly” little sewer rats scuttle around our tiny little “living rooms,” angrily looking for cheese.

Needless to say, of those questions, none are more poignant and disturbing than the following:

What makes lemur juice “worth the squeeze”?

And if we allow ourselves to be even further haunted by mystery – can lemur juice even be considered good if James Suckling hasn’t scored it at least 90 points?

Obviously not, that would be crazy.

But with the exception of accolades ascribed by the infallible tastebuds of generous James (and/or his entourage of anonymous experts), there are 3 key measures we can use to dial in the elusive definition of “good wine”:

1. Subjective Quality (How much you like it)

2. “Objective” Quality (How well it scores using a standardized system)

3. Context & Use Case (Value & quality relative to the category and situation)

To put into “simplish terms” what the distinctions between those “measures” are – you can dislike a wine (subjective quality), but using a standardized method of evaluation, still determine that it is well made and/or of high “objective” quality. You can also hate a wine on its own, but find it to be delightful in the context of one very specific pairing.

These three measures operate somewhat independently of one another, and the first two focus primarily on how good the liquid in your gullet is, without particular focus on the “metadata” (aka the history, geography, people, prestige, price, etc). The third measure takes into account context (e.g., how good the wine is relative to others in the category, price point, etc) and use case (e.g., tasted alongside a “chocolate cake” vs drank on its lonesome).

We try to address all of these measures whenever we write our reviews, and in acknowledgement of the fact that our own tastes were likely skewing our scores in favor of wines we just personally liked, we developed our “brilliant new version” of the 100 point system that aims to reduce bias and provide some transparency into the final scores, while prefacing the score breakdown with our subjective opinions on the wine. You may also “note” that we attempt to include contextual factors when we can, like whether the wines were better with food, or in a particular setting, or even how we place it within the category or price point (ie is it good value?).

We’ve taken it upon ourselves this week to find wines that we enjoy and which score highly using our system (something that doesn’t always happen, if you’ve been “with us” for a while). In our notes, you’ll find thoughts on why some of these picks may not score as subjectively high for you and/or your little family’s palates, and some “insights” into how context comes into play. Let’s dive into the juice…

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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2015 Steven’s Winery, Stevensmerlot, Yakima Valley, WA / $39

Profile: Dried cherry, raisin, chocolate, cinnamon, orange peel, potpourri, bay leaf, licorice, tobacco
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, medium+ tannin, full body, long finish

Incredibly powerful flavors and aromas, not at all tired in spite of the 10+ years in bottle. Rich, dried fruit character layered with well integrated oak spice – chocolate and cinnamon – and potpourri (combination of that cinnamon with orange peel, and dried flowers). It is leant even more depth by notes of bay leaf, licorice and tobacco. This is drinking beautifully right now (probably peak for my palate), but for those tempted by more tertiary dominant wines, you could easily cellar this for another 5 years and watch it develop. I’ve reviewed the 2014 Stevensmerlot in the past (even more long-lived and enticing imo) and I am a huge fan. This Yakima valley producer doesn’t miss, so if you find yourself at a Total Wine that carries either their Syrah or Merlot, don’t miss your chance to try it. A steal at under $40.

Is it good? Yes. Strong recommend from me.

As far as “goodness” goes, this one hits the mark on all three measures for me. I love it, it scores highly using our quasi-objective system, and it hits the mark on value – I would be hard pressed to find Washington Merlot of better quality at this price point (but would jump at recommendations if you disagree). I will say that as a standalone “beverage” this might not be ideal for a lot of people – it’s a strong choice with bolder flavored meals that need a bold wine with good acidity to stand up, but if you don’t like recreationally drinking red wines (particularly complex and structured reds), then you might find this to be contextually worse than even a simple but well made white wine that goes down easy. Me? I’ll gladly drink a glass on its own.

Score breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 9 = 93 points (I)

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2021 Oddero Barolo / $55

Profile: Red cherry, dried cranberry, dried strawberry, rose petal, wet stone, bay leaf, ginger, tar, orange peel
Palate: Dry, high acid, high tannin, fully body, long finish

From an objective perspective, the structure and balance of fruit, tannin, acid and developing complexity is outstanding. However, this is still unmistakably a youthful (UNLIKE ME!), tannic, high acid, “angry” Barolo, which will not be an enjoyable experience for all “palates” if those “palates” don’t have a special little proclivity for “fine grained” and mouth-dessiccating nebbiolo tannins and acidity.

For the category, this is pretty good value, though I’ve found examples just as good closer to $30. This will almost certainly improve with age.

Score breakdown: Balance 38/ Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 93 points (Z)

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1999 Castello di Monsanto Nemo Toscana (100% Cabernet Sauvignon) / $90

Profile: Blackberry, dried cherry, fig, dried violets, green bell pepper, mushroom, chocolate, black olive, tobacco, black tea, graphite, forest floor, cedar, leather
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, medium+ tannin, full body, long finish

Lucky for me, I was able to successfully “find Nemo” — but many of you may not have as much “luck.” Why? For one, this isn’t a Nemo that’s easily “found.” For two, personal preference. I’m a sucker for prominent tertiary notes from bottle aging (dried fruits, forest floor, dried flowers, leather, tobacco). For my palate, there is a perfect harmony of savory tertiary notes from extensive bottle aging along with sufficient “mature” (aka mostly dried) black fruit notes along with prominent “green pepper” pyrazines. The complexity is ridiculous. The wine is unquestionably of exceptional quality and epitomizes how “great aged red wine” can “behave,” but if your goal is to find rich fruit flavors as the primary “experience” in your zeus juice, then this will not be your “jam” (pun intended), no matter how great the “objective” quality level.

I got it for $55, but given the average price of $90, this may not be “good” for a lot of people, purely from a value perspective. That said, it delivers a “transcendent” experience that in my opinion justifies the price, particularly for tertiary “nutcases” (LIKE ME!)

Score breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 18 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 10 = 96 points (Z)

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If there’s one takeaway from today’s ramblings it’s this: lemur juice is not for the faint of heart.

Now tell us — are there any examples of wines that you love but which you know to be objectively of relatively low quality? How about high quality wines you just personally hate? Or do you find that your subjective tastes tend to align with objective “reality” across the board? (We don’t).

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

There comes a time in everyone’s life when they must confront one simple truth: beans are everywhere, and they’re not going away.

And yet, for all their ubiquity, “beans” remain severely underpaired. Entire books have been dedicated to “meats” and “cheeses” – but beans???? Beans are left wandering the culinary desert, clutching tiny little beans of their own and hoping someone, ANYONE, will tell them what to “wash themselves down” with.

That ends today.

This is your definitive guide to pairing wine with beans.

It is “rigorous,” “exhaustive,” and “useful” for every occasion.

The Fava Bean

Green, slightly bitter, bean

Pairing: André Brut

The Pinto Bean

Earthy, soft, tan (UNLIKE ME), bean

The pinto bean.

Pairing: André Brut

The Soy Bean

Protean, global, capable of great cruelty, bean

Pairing: André Brut

The Kidney Bean

Bold, dense (LIKE MY FACULTIES), “renal,” bean

Kidney bean.

Pairing: André Brut

The Great Northern Bean

Mild, creamy, northern, bean

Pairing: André Brut

The Mediocre Northern Bean

Mild, creamy, northern, bean

Pairing: André Brut

The Black Bean

Earthy, rich, black, bean

Pairing: André Brut

The “Butter” Bean

Creamy, lush, pale, buttery, bean

Pairing: André Brut

The “Lentil” Bean

Flat, little, lenticular, bean.

Pairing: André Brut

The Cannellini Bean

Italian bean

Pairing: André Brut

The Navy Bean

[SAME AS CANNELLINI BEAN]

Small, durable, blue, bean.

Pairing: André Brut

The Coffee Bean

Bean, brown, “roasted” (LIKE ME), bean.

Pairing: 2005 Chateau Mouton Rothschild

In Beano Veritas

In beans we trust.

HAPPY “APRIL 1st” YOU ABSOLUTE MANIACS.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

Here’s “the thing” about Chianti…

It’s rare that red wine offers both structural and flavorical honesty (the unmanipulated kind) while remaining economically “sensitive” (LIKE TODAY’S YOUTH) – but Chianti fits the bill.

We would be hard pressed to find a more serviceable category of red wine that spans the extreme-value to mid-range-value spectrum. Heck, you can spend $10 on a generic bottle in a wicker basket (known lovingly among locals as the humble “fiasco”) and still get something that tastes recognizably like a dry red wine. If you have the strength, stretch your flimsy little wallet toward the $30 mark and find bottles that punch WAY above their measly f**king weight class.

In fact, at almost any price point you can find it, Chianti tends to outperform its equally priced friends.

So what’s this week’s post about? Wine reviews, baby! We went to some local grocers, Zeus juiceries, and/or major wine retailers (e.g., Total Wine) to procure an array of the Chianti wines currently available ranging in price from under $10 to under $30.

If you want to learn more about different categories of Chianti or the region in general, we’ve linked some past articles that go deeper into the edumacational stuff.

This list is the first of what will inevitably become our annual Chianti audit, assuming we remember to do it again next year (or ever). For ease of use, we’ve put little green ✅ checkmarks next to the ones we think are great deals and a red ❌ if we think you should skip it.

“Enjoy.”

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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❌ 2024 Ponte Vecchio Chianti / $8

Profile: Cherry hard candy, red vines, strawberry, copper penny, touch of rubber
Palate: Dry, high acid, medium tannin, light body, medium finish

Super red fruit dominant with a slight “hard candy” sort of note, like a cherry cough drop. While the nose is very simple and not too attractive (though not offensive either), the balance is surprisingly decent. This is a very simple, low alcohol (12%) wine with a lighter body and weaker concentration than is typical of Chianti, but frankly for an $8 red wine, this isn’t bad. And to make matters more “fun” it comes in a fiasco!

Would I recommend saving a few dollars to grab this over the quality boost an extra $5-10 can get you in the category? Not in a million bazillion years. But if you don’t care about whether or not the wine is good and just want something cheap and edible, this isn’t the worst route, given that it’s dry and doesn’t taste manipulated at all. Better if eaten with food, and even better if used as an ingredient in food – it will do nicely as a cooking wine for me.

Score breakdown: Balance 33 / Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 11 / Complexity 4 / Length 11 = 74 Points (I)

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✅ 2023 Dante di Fiorenza Chianti DOCG / $12

Profile: Red cherry, tart strawberry, orange peel, fennel, dried herbs, copper penny
Palate: Dry, high acid, medium body, medium tannin, medium finish

Bright, tart red fruit with a slightly rustic, “copper penny” metallic edge (typical of budget Chianti) that keeps things in “simple but honest” territory. Unlike many other red wines at this price, this tastes like real “dry red wine” rather than lab-made plonk. The high acid does most of the heavy lifting here in terms of “structure”, with limited concentration and complexity. Perfectly “decent wine” at the price, especially with food, but not something you’ll think about later.

Score breakdown: Balance 35/ Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 13 / Length 11 / Complexity 6 = 80 points (Z)

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✅ 2021 Chianti Classico Basilica Caffagio Single Estate / $18

Profile: Black cherry, dried strawberry, blackberry, peanut shell, dried herbs, wet stone, copper penny, violets, cocoa powder
Palate: Dry, high acid, medium body, high tannin, long finish

There’s a good mix of dark fruit, dried red fruit, earth, “nuttiness” (LIKE ME!) and flowers (THE GOOD KIND), with enough structure to inform your palate that it’s “here.” The tannins are on the angrier side, but the wine has the concentration and length to support it, keeping things relatively balanced overall. For $18, this delivers more depth and structure than you’d typically expect in the category and will likely develop into something more “special” with additional years of age (UNLIKE ME!). This wine supports our little thesis about Chianti’s “value play.”

Score breakdown: Balance 37/ Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 14 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 90 points (Z)

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❌ 2023 Ormanni Chianti Classico / $19

Profile: Cherry, raspberry, sea brine, rubber eraser, spice, hint of thyme
Palate: Dry, high acid, high tannin, full body, medium+ finish

I’d say overall this is more aromatically pleasing than it is delightful to guzzle – it’s got good structure, but the aftertaste is a little bitter, throwing off our little buddy’s balance. Overall it’s solid in the under $20 category for red wine and does very well with food, but given that it was priced identically to the Banfi Chianti Classico Riserva, it’s a no brainer to pass this one up next time I’m shopping.

Score breakdown: Balance 34 / Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 15 / Complexity 5 / Length 14 = 83 Points (I)

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✅ 2022 Banfi Chianti Classico Riserva / $19

Profile: Black cherry, plum, vanilla, cherry yogurt, thyme, mocha, peanut shell
Palate: Dry, high acid, high tannin, full body, long finish

Great value in the under $20 tier. Very widely available and reliably good stuff coming from this producer. Dark fruits with some vanilla and yogurty notes, a touch of thyme and of course our good buddy “peanut shell” makes an appearance. The balance is incredible and the texture is chewy and smooth. I could live in here. Drinks well alone (LIKE ME!) and goes with food almost like it was meant to be consumed with food. Excellent stuff, will definitely be picking up more next time I hit the proverbial store.

Score breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 15 / Complexity 7 / Length 15 = 91 Points (I)

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✅ 2019 La Castellina Chianti Classico Riserva / $28

Profile: Black cherry, black plum, leather, christmas spice, orange peel, dried herbs, chocolate, peanut shell
Palate: Dry, high acid, high tannin, full body, long finish

Ridiculous value in my opinion, beautifully balanced with a very attractive profile and a rich mouthfeel that makes it taste like a higher end Sangio. It reminds me a bit of the 2021 Antinori Chianti Classico I tasted a while back, and at somewhere in the ballpark of half the price, that makes this a steal. Lush black fruits, chocolate, spice, orange and dried herb notes with one of our favorite little Chianti buzzwords, the humble “peanut shell.” I could guzzle this for breakfast – in fact, if I keep reading the “news” every morning, I just might have to.

Score breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Complexity 8 / Length 15 = 93 Points (I)

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✅ 2020 Castello di Bossi Berardo Chianti Classico Riserva / $29

Profile: Black cherry, plum, strawberry, dried cranberry, mixed spice, wet stone, sea shells, violets, dark chocolate, tobacco, licorice
Palate: Dry, high acid, full body, high tannin, long finish

This humble Riserva shows riper, more dried-fruit tones than its “proverbial peers,” layered with spice, florals, ample minerality, and emerging tertiary notes from its early bottle age—attributes the “non‑Riserva” bottlings we “tasted” don’t yet have on their little resume. Even at a borderline ‘not cheap’ $29, our “little buddy” di Bossi is still worth every penny compared with most other “beverage options” at a similar price.

Score breakdown: Balance 38/ Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 92 points (Z)

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❌ 2021 Castello di Monsanto Chianti Classico Riserva / $29

Profile: Tart red cherry, red plum, cranberry, dried herbs, copper penny, orange peel, earth
Palate: Dry, high acid, high tannin, medium body, long finish

This has a textbook profile — tart red fruits, dried herbs, orange peel, “etc.” The acidity is a bit too harsh for the “medium body” and depth of fruit. Despite its pedigree and strong critical acclaim, this bottling “underwhelms” at the ~$30 price point (at least for “our palates”). It checks all the expected varietal and regional “boxes,” but lacks the concentration and depth to elevate it beyond a standard “pretty good” Chianti and falls short of what “we” hope for in a Riserva (THE “NON-GMO” KIND!).

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 14 / Complexity 7 / Length 15 = 87 points (Z)

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If you want to learn more about Chianti and/or Tuscan wine in general, check out some of these neat posts we wrote during the great “before.” Included in these are some wines in the lower price tiers ($10-15) that we actually do recommend, since the smattering we chose this week were a bit of a bust. Take a look…

Issue #11: Tuscan Value Fiasco

Issue #41: Tuscan Gold

Issue #90: 6 Cheap Wines Actually Worth Buying

And as a little teaser of what’s in store for next week, we end with the age old question: How do you like your “beans” – al dente or “well done?”

As usual, feel free to call us names and/or generally be mean to us in the comments — that’s what makes it all worth it.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

In the proverbial “wine world,” New Zealand has made a name for itself with two major household “stars” that everybody knows and loves:

Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc and Central Otago Pinot Noir.

To the so-called “wine nerds” out there, regions like Martinborough (also well known for Sauvy B and pinot) and Hawke’s Bay (best known for Bordeaux varietals and the occasional “peppercorn riddled” Syrah) may also “enter the conversation.” But there’s a noble grape lurking, smirking and braying like a f***king donkey on the “outskirts” of the New Zealand wine scene that deserves a metric jortsload of attention it isn’t currently getting.

“Chardonnay.”

We say “outskirts” because “here” in the “United” States, New Zealand Chardonnay rarely appears on shelves. The good and/or extremely wholesome news is that it is becoming a little more widely available, and as such, we thought we’d “explore” some of the options that we were able to “dig up” at the Zeus juiceries near us.

If you want to learn a little more about some of the North Island regions discussed in today’s post, feel free to “visit” vicariously through us here and here (posts tailored more to the travel experience in the context of NZ wine tourism - a resource for any of you mangy winos contemplating a trip).

But enough rambling — let’s dive into the juice.

Regions of the Week

This week, we’ve “explored” bottles made from grapes grown up and down the North Island, and stretching into the infamous Marlborough region at the northern tip of the South island. Working our way down…

Kumeū

Kumeū is a small, coastal-influenced “fellow” (aka wine sub‑region) of Auckland on New Zealand’s North Island. It’s known among those who are aware it exists as a source of exceptional quality, cool‑climate Chardonnay. “Some” would argue that these Chards are “on par” or better than those of the esteemed “Burgundy” (Grand Crus) winning some serious blind tastings in numerous vintages. Vineyards in Kumeū live the absolute dream (UNLIKE ME) between the Tasman Sea and the Pacific (mild maritime climate, warm and humid summers), where soils are mainly silt, clay, and loam with good water‑holding capacity – a micro-climate that is especially “friendly” to Chardonnay and other early ripening varieties (LIKE ME).

Hawke’s Bay

Located further south, between Auckland and Wellington on the east coast of the North Island, this sneaky little bay is known for so much more than its “hawks.” Beyond the friendly presence of these noble birds, the ocean fruits that reside there are also worthy of a goodly mention – AND MENTION THEM, WE WILL. The terroir is highly diverse, but the climate is Mediterranean-esque with mild winters, warm summers, and a wonderful cooling maritime influence.

Martinborough

Hi, I’m Martin. Welcome to my burrow. The Martinborough region, just an hour or so drive outside of Wellington, is best known for its cool climate pinot noir, and probably also better known to sauvignon blanc than chard, but it is nonetheless a source of some of the most exceptional Chardonnay ever to touch the human gullet. The region is dry and sunny, with a cool maritime climate, sporting large diurnal shifts which, AS WE KNOW, leads to wines with bright acidity and ripe fruit.

Marlborough

Everybody and their geezers know about this region as a powerhouse producer of good old Sauvy B. But it also makes Chardonnay, and perhaps the most widely accessible bottle we’ve reviewed today (Oyster Bay) comes from the region. It is extremely sunny with long, warm days that promote ripening but the high diurnal shifts once again allow grapes to retain super sharp acidity which makes the wines all the goodlier.

Good stuff, let’s taste some wines.

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

1. 2023 Oyster Bay Chardonnay, Marlborough, NZ / $15

Profile: Lime, golden apple, nectarine, chalk, seashells, flint, sea brine, pineapple, chamomile, subtle toasted oak
Palate: Dry, high acid, medium body, long finish

Extremely lean and fresh with vibrant lime and golden apple aromatics, while still having good concentration of riper fruits (pineapple), complemented by prominent chalky/briny “minerality” to complement the vibrant acidity. The oak influence was kept to a minimum, making this a much more “refreshing style” than many other New World Chardonnay expressions. Great value.

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 14 / Length 15 / Complexity 7 = 89 Points (Z)

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2. 2024 Oyster Bay Chardonnay, Marlborough, NZ / $15

Profile: Green apple, underripe mango, lime, crushed chalk, white flowers
Palate: Dry, high acid, medium body, long finish

Zach nabbed the ‘23 and I found a ‘24 at Whole Foods, so I figured it would be unethical not to taste this too. Really beautiful aromatically, like a bottle of fresh green apples with some floral and chalky notes, but on the palate this is very much a citrus dominated wine that doesn’t deliver on a lot of the aromatics. It has decent concentration, but lacks complexity. Still, an absolute joy to drink, and for the price this is a really nice wine that does the category justice. If you can find the 2023 vintage, even better (if you trust my deranged brother’s palate).

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 14 / Length 15 / Complexity 5 = 85 Points (I)

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3. 2020 Kumeu Valley Chardonnay, Kumeu & Hawke’s Bay, NZ / $20

Profile: Golden apple, honeydew melon, lemon, rubber eraser blossom, toasted oak, brioche
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, medium body, long finish

Really enjoyed this wine, which is a regional blend of grapes from both Kumeu and Hawke’s Bay. 6 years of age but holding strong – not showing much tertiary (possibly because of the goodly screw cap), though the acidity is a touch lower than the others we tasted. Much more apple and melon driven with far subtler oak and lees notes. Reasonably complex with great concentration of flavor and a nice spread of different “clusters” to “explore.” One of the aromatics I’m getting, I would equate to the smell of one of those little novelty rubber erasers you can buy from a store like Daiso. It has such a distinctive smell, with golden apple, melon, a little toast and some brioche. Picked up at Total Wine for $20, definitely worth a try if you can find it.

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 7 = 89 Points (I)

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4. 2024 Palliser Estate Chardonnay, Martinborough, NZ / $41

Profile: Lemon, lemon peel, tarragon, subtle toasted oak, ripe pear, peach, white flowers, kettle corn, caramel apple pop, toasted almond
Profile: Dry, high acid, medium+ body, long finish

This is one of the best chardonnays out there for my money. It comes from Martinborough – a wildly underappreciated region in New Zealand that produces incredibly good wines, and as I’ve beaten into the ground time and time again, some of the best Chardonnay that’s ever graced the earth. It was $41 (inclusive of taxes/tariffs/shipping) from Wine Collective Direct (an awesome site if you want to shop NZ wines by the case from producers otherwise unavailable in the US).

Now, I’ve previously reviewed this wine (see notes here) and I got some slightly different notes this time around – possibly just a byproduct of the additional age in-bottle, or my own subjective variation over time – but the score landed right in the same place. It’s just the slightest touch sharp (a quality I personally like, but that tilts the balance a hair) and it’s extremely aromatically and flavorically (real word) pleasing. Beautiful citrus and stone fruits with incredibly well integrated oak and MLF notes that lend a hint of caramel, kettle corn and toasted almonds.

I’m not exaggerating when I say I literally cleared out the online supply of this from the linked wine shop, but if you can find it anywhere, BUY IT ALL — or send me the link and I will.

In fact, make it the latter.

Score breakdown: Balance 39 / Aroma/Flavor 19 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 9 = 97 Points (I)

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5. 2020 Te Mata Estate Elston Chardonnay, Hawke’s Bay, NZ / $45

Profile: Pineapple, apple, Bubblicious bubble gum, roasted hazelnut, maltballs, butterscotch, sea brine, flint
Palate: Dry, high acid, medium- body, long finish

This one smells strongly of pineapples and Bubblicious bubblegum with a touch of malt and butterscotch to “tie the room together.” It’s nice and concentrated, but the aftertaste goes just a touch in the direction of oxidized apple, which may be a sign we are just starting to tip over the hill. Using our “patented” scoring system, this wine scores slightly higher than the Kemeu, but I actually enjoyed the profile of the Kemeu better, and at half the price, I’d definitely grab two bottles of Kemeu over a single of this any day. If you like a nuttier, maltier style with a pineapple driven profile, you’re barking up the right tree with this one. Also available at Total Wine (select stores), goes for about $40.

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 90 Points (I)

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Chardonnay from New Zealand by and large absolutely smashes it on quality to price ratio, and delivers profiles that please even the most Chard-averse palates. If you see some, please, for the love of absolute jorts, give it a try and let us know what you think – our bet is that you’ll love the way you look.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Chardy McJortsface (aka Isaac & Zach)

There’s a “trend” in the proverbial world of wine that is growing in popularity with every waking second – one that at first glance seems like little more than real-life clickbait over novelty: deep sea wine aging.

A lot of romanticism has built up around this idea (a “movement” that has gained traction in recent years due to several shipwrecks containing hauls of intact Champagne from the late 19th and early 20th century) – and some people seem to be convinced that somehow the mere existence of “the sea” vis-a-vis “a wine bottle” has a positive impact on the wine itself.

But is it just a bunch of meaningless new age hoo-haw, or is there something to this idea?

In order to “answer that question” we need to “fashion ourselves” with a humble understanding of the mechanisms that occur when wine “matures” (UNLIKE ME).

Our primary focus for this post is this study which explores the various changes that occur in wine when aged above and below the “deep blue sea.”

The “Chemical Budget” of Aging

Much like us, wine also carries a flimsy little wallet around with it – but wine’s flimsy little wallet isn’t filled with dust and empty space where flimsy little dollars once were. No; wine’s flimsy little wallet is filled with “chemicals” (the natural kind) that are constantly undergoing “little changes” as the wine embarks on its wonderful little journey through its wonderful little life. And, LIKE US, it must “budget” accordingly.

Whether a wine sits in a neolithic cave or on the sandy ocean floor, its chemical composition is on a timer. The “study” highlights a universal decline in four key areas regardless of the environment (i.e. whether or not in contact with oxygen):

• Phenols: These give wine its so-called structure and “health benefits”

• Anthocyanins (a type of polyphenol): The pigments responsible for that vibrant red and/or purple color we all “know and love”

• Non-flavonoid compounds: Other “structural” elements (LIKE ME!)

• Sulfur Dioxide (SO2): The primary preservative used in most wines

The Old Man and The Sea vs. The Cellar

• There is no “magic” transformation: findings show that underwater aging doesn’t really do much to the wine itself (when compared to other environments with similarly stable conditions).

• Stability: While the chemical profiles remained remarkably similar to cellar-aged wines, the underwater environment does offer a strong combination of constant pressure and near-perfect temperature stability (when at the proper depth). It also offers an environment in which no “outside” oxygen can transfer between the cork and the inside of the bottle, meaning that oxidation can only occur using the oxygen contained between the cork and the wine in the bottle beginning from the moment it starts its wonderful little “plunge.” (Wonder if they’ve heard of screw caps?)

The Color Evolution (anthocyanins & their little friends)

One of the most visual parts of a wine’s “geriatric transformation” is the reduction of anthocyanins. In young red wine, these molecules are mostly “free” (UNLIKE ME!), giving it a bright, sometimes even purple or bluish hue (for example, wines like Malbec and Petit Sirah are sometimes described as being more blue (LIKE ME) in their youth). As the wine ages (above or below water), these molecules “make friends” with tannins to form more stable polymeric pigments.

• The Result: The wine shifts from a wonderful little purple/ruby color to a more brickish/tawny “hue”.

• Cellar vs Sea: This process happens at a similar rate in both storage methods, suggesting that “time” is a more powerful “architect” of a wine’s “complexion” than “location.”

Oxidative Stability & SO2

The study found a gradual reduction in total sulfur dioxide (SO2)

• As SO2 drops, the wine becomes more susceptible to oxidation & biological contaminants.

• The So(2)-called “Science”: Aging wine is essentially a “slow-motion controlled oxidation” with some other “little reactions” for “funsies.” If it happens too fast and in the presence acetobacter, you get vinegar; if it happens too slow (or with zero oxygen), the wine can become “reduced” and smell like matchsticks or cabbage. There’s a reason that effective wine aging cannot really be rushed, in spite of products that claim to achieve that effect – it’s the combination of short term and long term reactions that produce the profiles we associate with a “perfectly” aged bottle. An oxygen deprived environment becomes more relevant in the context of SO2-related changes, because with less oxygen exposure, there is less reactivity with the SO2, meaning the wine remains stabilized by it for longer. That doesn’t necessarily mean it is better or worse, the oxidative processes just progress more slowly.

So What Does Underwater Aging Actually Achieve?

NOTHING!!!!! Just kidding. It provides highly stable (LIKE TODAY’S YOUTH!) conditions (which are also achievable above water), and it ensures an almost entirely oxygen-free environment (no transfer from external atmosphere), which means that oxidative aging is curtailed. This allows deep sea bottles to age more slowly and preserve more of the primary fruit aromas for longer. The SO2 levels decline more slowly, but other reactions aren’t slowed as much, like phenolic binding with tannins, which means that the aging process is less uniform (when held side by side with a terrestrially-aged bottle). Structurally a wine will proceed along a more consistent trajectory, while other profile features like “fresh fruits and vegetables” (THE GOOD KIND!) stick around for longer.

Whether you prefer the resultant wine is obviously subjective, but the main question to ask before stuffing your precious little wine sack into the briny deep is this:

Do I want to preserve the current state of the wine for as long as possible, while collecting a few “slimy barnacles” in the process?

> If you answered ‘yes’ then deep sea aging may be the drug for you!

> If you answered ‘no’ and you want your wine to age the way wine typically does as the years pass us by, then go ahead and find a nice dark, dusty, and moldy little basement somewhere and stuff your treasured wine sack there.

And of course, if our “calculations” are correct, capping your wine with a screw top and storing it in a cellar would yield very similar results, though you would be depriving it of a nice salty oceanic environment where the bottles can enjoy scenic views of sea-garbage and murk.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

Here’s a “Valentine’s Day” date idea “you” never knew you “needed” – blend your own special pink juice (FOR SHARING!). You can use your personal preferences, or roll the dice on bottles that feel like they “represent” your “relationship” by finding one that represents each of your withered little “hearts,” and mixing em together (~waggles eyebrows~).

If you are your own Valentine this year, feel free to make a blend that represents your relationship with yourself.

Unlike our previous blending recipes, we’ve gone with one that uses a white wine as a base and shuffles in a little goodly “red” for “color,” structure and “added intrigue” – a method of blending that is actually used in some scenarios to create rosé pre-bottling, though outside of Champagne and other sparkling rosé production areas, it is the least popular (LIKE ME!).

If you are interested in learning more about the “other” rosé making techniques, we’ve gone into a little more depth on those in previous posts:

But today isn’t an ode to rosé. It’s “Wednesday” (a broken calendar is right twice a month) and this post is about wine alchemy — one of our favorite little topics to scromit at you about whenever we get the chance. It’s such a great way to take relatively inexpensive bottles (you can go premium too, if you please) and concoct something that really “amplifies” the so-called “bang per buck” quotient we’ve all heard so much about.

We’ve diven (dived? dove?) more deepishly into our philosophies and suggestions for approaching this process in previous posts as well, so we won’t bog you down with retreading the same material, but if you missed those, we “encourage you” to “familiarize” your “brain:”

Some quick “tips” for your blend:

• THE RED WINE should have a clearly identifiable feature that you are looking to add, and it should be specifically something you don’t expect to find in the white wine. For example, if the white wine is floral and stone fruity but not especially high acid, you might pick a highly acidic red with black fruit notes to see what that adds to the equation. Or maybe you want to add a touch of oak to an unoaked base. And of course, color is a given here, so worst case you blend a rosé “in name alone” that simply tastes like the base white – but ideally there’s something unique that changes the overall structure or profile enough to create something new and exciting or at very least, more interesting.

• THE WHITE WINE should be a decent base wine that you wouldn’t mind drinking on its own. This is important as it comprises most of the blend, but it’s fine if it has some shortcoming, especially if you have a red in mind that “fills in” the proverbial blank

• YOU MUST select a red wine blending “partner” that is either “good” on its own or has an element that will complement the white wine “backbone”

• YOU MUST blend your wine with a human (and/or sentient “farm animal”) “partner” that is willing AND ABLE to scromit WITH you, ideally in a public location. [NOTE: self-partnership is acceptable]

• WE RECOMMEND using a red wine you enjoy on its own as well if you can, because the naturally reduced percentage you include to achieve the desired color (AN EXERCISE IN ‘RESTRAINT’) means that you’ll have some “leftovers” to “enjoy”

So without further ado, here’s our blend of the issue:

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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THE BLEND: 2024 Martin Codax Albarino (85% of blend) + 2021 Chono Syrah, Limari Valley, Chile (15% of blend) / $14 for each wine

Profile: Peach, strawberry, cantaloupe melon, lemon juice, orange creamsicle, rose petal, crushed rock, sea spray, white pepper
Palate: Dry, medium body, low tannin, high acid, long finish

The Albariño “opened its arms” and “offered” a solid base of ripe stone fruits, citrus and high acidity along with typical “oceanic” “mineral” notes. It was lean and light, and was a great place to start, because “we” knew we had some foundational structure, along with aromatic and flavor components that we already enjoyed.

What we then sought out in a “blending partner” was something with a bit of “heft” that would add new fruit flavors, body, and some spice which could all contribute meaningfully to the blend. The question then was how intense did each of these features need to be to be perceptible and useful as a harmonious addition to the “pink beverage experience™.”

The Syrah was on the more “medium bodied side” of the spectrum (could perhaps have gone with something fuller than that, but this split the difference between the attributes we were looking for at the “under $15/bottle” price point nicely). It was primarily red fruit driven with some peppery spice, probably “thanks” to its “coastal roots” and “cooling influences” (LIKE MINE).

It could just be the voices in my head, but this blend really “spoke to me” (THE GOOD KIND!). The color was beautiful which is half the battle these days. The Syrah succeeded in “sharing” it’s “body” with the Albariño, along with a little of that spice and fresh red fruit — and the Albariño “reciprocated.” The rest is up to your imagination.

Score Breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma + Flavor 17 / Concentration 12 / Complexity 7 / Length 15 = 87 Points (Z)

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We love doing these little post-bottle blending experiments because they give an opportunity to not only do something entertaining with one of our favorite “liquids,” but to also think about wine in a new way that makes analyzing its qualities more fun and often yields exciting and unexpected results. Sometimes, you’ll even find that you make something better than the sum of its parts. Other times you’ll find that you make something worse — but that’s all “part of the fun.”

We love you.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

The first thing a lot of people think of when “Beaujolais” enters the proverbial “conversation” is cheap kool-aid and freshly juiced lemurs. But what they may not be aware of is just how much variety there is in the so-called “category” as a whole.

One of the reasons it gets a bit of a bad rap is because it’s associated with Beaujolais Nouveau – a cheap and high-volume “early release” wine that rears its mangy little head each year just before “Thanksgiving” (NOTE: this is unrelated to Thanksgiving, as it turns out the French don’t celebrate that particular American holiday). Sometimes lovingly called the “Kool-aid of wine,” Beaujolais Nouveau is known for being “easy drinking” and packed with “bright flavors” including some of the distinctive “notes” (e.g., banana, bubblegum, kirsch) associated with carbonic and semi-carbonic maceration – a winemaking technique that allows for rapid extraction of flavor without “imposing” much tannic structure onto the wines. This means you get a jovial fruit-fest with some avant-garde notes (who doesn’t love a little bubble gum flavored Zeus juice?) and not a ton of complexity all around, but it also allows for the wine to be released within 1-2 months of harvest. That makes it a bit divisive among “drinkers,” but generally speaking, it’s not considered to be a “great wine” style and is often more associated with jolly guzzling and pennywater plonk.

But Beaujolais is more than just that early release nouveau mumbo-jumbo “we” all “know and love” (and/or don’t and don’t). Many producers strive to craft a more “meaningful” product, which ranges greatly in quality and can yield some “really interesting” and “high quality” examples. Particularly, the Beaujolais Crus which have distinctive styles and are a far(ther) cry from Kool-aid.

Beaujolais “the region”

Beaujolais is one of France’s most misunderstood (LIKE ME!) wine regions – often dismissed because of its infamous “Nouveau plonk” release™, yet capable of depth and character when you look more closely at “sneaky little pockets” of this “sneaky little region.” The alleged Beaujolais “hierarchy” begins with the quintessential “bottom feeder” of the bunch, known by “wine experts” as Beaujolais Nouveau, which, as we’ve explained, is an exuberant, light, and fruit-driven “beverage” released just weeks after harvest, and ideally consumed then too.

Next comes Beaujolais AOC, the region’s broadest classification, where grapes can be “plucked” and “plonkened” from anywhere within the appellation, including areas around the Crus and Villages. These wines form the “everyday drinking jorts” of Beaujolais: juicy, approachable, and often a “wonderful little value” for those drawn to the region’s simpler bottlings. They are allowed more time after harvest to mature and tend to better highlight Gamay’s fresh “red fruit charm” with notes of bright cherry, raspberry, and hints of spice, though it tends not to have the structure or so-called “mineral tension” of Villages or Cru Beaujolais.

Then comes Beaujolais Villages AOC, sourced from 38 designated “villages” (SURPRISE, SURPRISE) that produce wines with more structure, depth, and terroir-driven “regional typicity.” These tend to be a bit more interesting and varied, and can better split the difference between “financially un-burdensome” and “good” (THE GOOD KIND!).

At the top of the fabled “hierarchy” sit the “esteemed’ Beaujolais Crus, comprised of ten northern appellations on granite-rich soils, where the Gamay grape expresses its finest textures, complexities and overall “feelings” about its “wonderful little life.” These wines are often oak-aged in large French oak barrels, and can evolve beautifully for several years (UNLIKE ME!).

The Crus of Beaujolais each offer distinct “personalities” (LIKE ME!), shaped by subtle variations in terrain, slope, and exposure. The four most “prominent” and “celebrated” Beaujolais Crus are the following:

• Brouilly – The largest cru, “responsible” for light, fruit-forward, and born “ready to party” beverages.

• Fleurie – The so-called “Queen of Beaujolais,” graceful, perfumed, and looks great in jorts.

• Morgon – Deep cherry notes and a stony little backbone making for “ageable” wines.

• Moulin-à-Vent – Structured, tannic, and long-lived – the cru considered to be most reminiscent of its overly-esteemed buddy “Burgundy.”

The other crus include: Côte de Brouilly, Chiroubles, Juliénas, Régnié, Saint-Amour, and Chénas. Don’t “worry” too much about them, they will not be “on the exam.”

Together, these appellations “reveal” Beaujolais not as a frivolous afterthought, but as a physical place on planet earth that grows the arguably expressive “Gamay grape.”

Speaking of which…

Gamay “the grape”

Gamay, the sole grape used in Beaujolais red wines is thin-skinned (LIKE ME!), purple (LIKE ME!), light to medium bodied (LIKE ME!), and typically low to medium tannins, with vibrant red fruit flavors (cherry, raspberry, plum, kirsch), abundant floral notes, spice notes (pepper), earth and sometimes aromas/flavors related to semi-carbonic or carbonic maceration (“see above”).

Now going into this week’s post, we both had some preconceived notions about Beaujolais that were less than generous. We’d had the odd bottle of Villages or cru that was decent, but overall, our impression was negative. After taking a random sample of two bottles (one Beaujolais AOC and one Morgon) we can “proudly” say that our experience was all around extremely wholesome and unexpectedly “rewarding.”

Let’s dive into the juice…

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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1. 2023 Domaine Dupeuble Beaujolais / $20

Profile: Blueberry, raspberry, violet, lilac, orange peel, licorice, black pepper, earth, wet stone
Palate: Dry, medium tannin, high acid, medium body, long finish

Let me just tell you that this wine really showed it “true colors” — crunchy blue and red fruits, and very floral, with pepper spice and a mineral driven profile. Extremely elegant and well balanced with no literally “no flaws” (UNLIKE ME!). It has some similarities to “fresher” styles of Northern Rhône Syrah and Côtes du Rhône.

Color me “surprised” by this “effort.”

Score Breakdown: Balance 37 / Aroma + Flavor 17 / Concentration 12 / Complexity 7 / Length 15 = 88 Points (Z)

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2. 2023 Chateau De Pizay Morgon / $23

Profile: Violet, raspberry, tart plum, kumquat, chocolate, wet pavement
Palate: Dry, medium+ tannin, high acid, medium body, long finish

Morgon is a nice chap and/or lady, who leads with floral notes. Some raspberry and kumquat (similar to orange peel, but a little more distinctive), and pavement wetter than my drinking jorts. Hint of chocolate in there as well, and on the palate a ripe but tart plum flavor. Texture is excellent, fine tannins with quite a lot of grip, and solid acid structure. Could be more powerfully flavored and not especially complex or “intellectual” “if you will” but it’s very enjoyable and easy drinking. If you asked me what this was blind, I might have guessed a Carignan/Cariñena or Grenache/Garnacha – like a Priorat or goodly southern Rhône, but a bit less concentrated and not too complicated (LIKE ME!).

Was unexpectedly pleased by the structure and would gladly imbibe this literally any time of day.

Score Breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma + Flavor 17 / Concentration 13 / Complexity 6 / Length 15 = 89 Points (I)

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There’s an old French saying, “Beaujolais is as Beaujolais does” and I think that pretty well sums up this journey. Stay out of trouble, and keep your drinking jorts dry.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

As “you all know” we recently propped your bloodshot little eyes open with toothpicks and exposed you (in public) to “the hard truth” about the annual Wine Spectator “Top 10” list.

If you’re among the <.000001% of people on earth who haven’t read it yet, go ahead and give it a goodly “once over” – but the short and sweet is that we found evidence of substantial biases and inherent flaws in “the system” that make that make it clear their idea of “the best” wines in the world is limited to a select few varieties/styles from a select few “blue chip” regions.

We had such a wonderful time flooding your “feeds” with neat little charts and graphs that we decided to “do it all over again” (HOORAY!) but this time focusing on a different “annual list” of “best wines” from another “big boy” in the proverbial “industry” – Wine Enthusiast.

Like last time, we dove head first into the shallow end of the last 10 years and picked apart the cute little “trends” in another little dataset.

If anyone wants to “noodle around” in that data themselves, we’re linking a spreadsheet here, which we mustered up the strength to break out into labeled columns for “your viewing pleasure.” If you don’t feel the need to do any “noodling,” fear not, moderate to severe noodling has already ensued on your behalf.

In general, our impression is that Wine Enthusiast does a better job of considering “the options” and there is more representation of varied styles and regions overall. That said, it’s far from perfect, so let’s dive into the juice…

“Best Wines” Selection Criteria

Unlike Wine Spectator, Wine Enthusiast doesn’t provide quite as clearly stated criteria for their selections. That said, here’s what they’ve stated in the preamble of the most recent list:

So it’s definitely more open-ended and subjective as “criteria” go, making it a little harder to critique whether they’ve honored a “stated process.” It doesn’t claim to be choosing from widely available wines or even specify how scoring or value plays into it, but I think it’s safe to say that the implication is that they’re calling these the best wines out there in 2025. After all, it’s literally called the “Best Wines of 2025” list.

So the question remains — do they give them all a fair shake?

The “Trends”

First of all, we hope you’ve been “saving your pennies,” because the most “groundbreaking” discovery from our little foray into the Enthusiast archives is that “The Top 10” (pulled from their annual best 100 wines of the year list) has recently shifted from “reasonably priced” to everything costing “a million gazillion dollars.” Back in the the days of yore (2016 to 2021 and prior), you could actually snag a bottle from the list for the price of a decent TOFU dinner – the median price hovered around a “relatable” $30 to $40.

Fast forward to 2025, and the median has skyrocketed to an “eye-watering” $187 (you’re welcome for the toothpicks). It seems our enthusiastic friends have decided that “top quality” is now strictly reserved for reckless spenders (LIKE ME!) and rich people.

Speaking of “exclusivity,” if you aren’t making wine on ye olde “Left Coast” of the USA, you’re basically shouting into the void. The USA absolutely “demolished” the competition with 35 placements over the decade.

California, in particular, our “golden boy,” snagged 27 spots all by “his” lonesome – more than the next country, let alone state. If you’re a winemaker in, say, Virginia or New York, we have some “bad news” regarding your “relevance” in the eyes of the editors. Or is the wine just not good enough?

Like the Wine Spectator list, the “big three” (USA, France, Italy) clearly dominate here as well, but the overall diversity of countries that poke their heads out of the muck is significantly greater. 12 countries have placed (vs WS’s 8) and over 40 distinct regions are represented in total.

There is a clear preference among the tasters-that-be for very specific regions/sub-regions as well – but notably, these differ from those exhibited by Wine Spectator. We see that in California, Central Coast wines are by far the most dominant, followed by Sonoma and then Napa Valley (the favored region by WS). In Italy, Piedmont “leads the charge,” with Tuscany taking the passenger seat (Tuscany was the leader for WS by a substantial margin). Unlike Wine Spectator, which only featured a grand total of 4 regions within the country, Wine Enthusiast features 8. France all around is more balanced, with Rhône Valley (almost entirely Châteauneuf-du-Pape) taking the so-called “cake,” followed by Alsace (completely absent from WS), and then Bordeaux (WS leader).

As far as “varietals” go – Pinot Noir “wears the jorts” in the Wine Enthusiast household, showing a divergence from what we saw at WS where Cabernet Sauvignon, Bordeaux style blends and “other” red blends towered over our humble thin-skinned friend.

There’s 0 representation of Bordeaux’s right bank among Wine Enthusiast’s top 10 picks, and similarly, not one instance of single varietal Merlot. It may peer quietly out from under the covers in a few of the Cab-dominant blends, but otherwise there’s no F*****ING MERLOT.

Nonetheless, overall regional and varietal representation is much more robust on this list than the WS list.

While red wines still make the biggest splash in the Wine Enthusiast list, there is far more representation of other “styles” than the Wine Spectator list. It shows 62% red vs WS 82%. Heck, they even threw in a rosé – bold choice we probably wouldn’t made, but here’s to them for “respecting the little guy.”

Interesting reaction - but what does it mean?

The overall takeaway here is that Wine Enthusiast’s “top picks” lean heavily into a mix of classic Old World regions and New World “benchmarks” while still showcasing a noticeable long tail of more “niche” regions and underappreciated “grapes.” By contrast, Wine Spectator’s top lists tend to be even more tightly focused on high‑volume, “market‑visible” categories (e.g., Bordeaux, Napa, Super Tuscans) with little appetite for “exploration” – so Enthusiast’s selection reads at a first grade level as slightly more open-minded, while Spectator’s appears more aligned with mainstream demand and ulterior motives.

What do you think – did we get it right? Wildly wrong? Did your own analysis and found something “neat”? Wine about it in the comments.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

Every year, “influencers” around the globe think it’s a cute idea to “evaluate” Wine Spectator’s Top 10 Wines of the Year and share their “2 cents” on the results.

Our approach here is a little different. As enthusiastic consumers of Zeus juice, there are so many options out there that vetted lists of wines (especially with a mind for value and availability) are highly useful tools for today’s “thirsty youth” (and who doesn’t love a nice little list?).

We aren’t so much questioning whether the wines that made the list are “worthy” of praise, or even top of class — we’re questioning whether we’re actually looking at a selection that’s even remotely objective when deciding which wines are in the running.

The problem with a list that declares wines to be “the best,” especially coming from a major wine publication like Wine Spectator, is that people will naturally assume that these wines have been pitted against the rest of the options they have available, and subsequently deemed superior. The reality is that a huge number of worthy “contenders” are disregarded by design, and when you look at the data, even applying their stated criteria as objectively as possible, there is further evidence of bias toward specific countries/regions, styles and even the humble producers.

This week, we’re getting a little more “numbery” than usual, with some neat little graphs and charts that break this all down in terms we can all understand.

Let’s take a gander at the selection criteria for the list:

• Wine Spectator’s Top 10 comes from all wines they blind‑taste in a year, narrowed first to those scoring at least 90 points, then to the Top 100, and finally to 10 wines that ~allegedly~ best fit their little criteria. It’s among the additional criteria that we see inherent bias that misleads when deeming these wines the “best” of the year.

• Four core factors allegedly drive the Top 10 choices:

  • Quality: Only 90+ point wines qualify; within those, higher scores and standout character, balance, and typicity are favored.

  • Value: They look for wines that “overdeliver” for the price, focusing on price–quality relationship, not just low cost.

  • Availability: Preference goes to wines made or imported into the U.S. in sufficient quantities so readers can realistically find them.

  • “X‑factor:” An added element of “excitement” or “story” (e.g., a benchmark vintage, a breakthrough producer, or a wine that represents an “important” trend.)

Here’s the results from 2025:

Note that only USA, France and Italy dominate the list, with 1 wine from Chile thrown in for optics. Historical trends tell a similar story, with USA, France and Italy dominating the top 10 lists for the past decade, followed distantly by Spain, Chile, Argentina, Australia and New Zealand. No other countries are represented at all.

We won’t get too deep into it in this post, but we would be remiss if we didn’t also point out that the relationship between ranking, price, and the WS score out of 100 is hard to make sense of. For example, the 2023 Ridge Lytton Springs is the cheapest wine on the list (according to WS) and scores the same (95 points) as the #1 ranked 2022 Chateau Giscours, yet it ranks #3. While the Ridge is slightly lower total production volume, it is also more widely available in the US. Similarly, the 2022 Chateau Beau-Séjour Bécot is 15% cheaper* than the #2 ranked 2023 Aubert Chardonnay and has the same score (96 points), yet it ranks #5 (*based on the WS listed price of $100 for the Aubert, not the actual average price on the public market which is closer to $300; wildly misrepresenting price is a common trend on the list). Not only that, but the Aubert Chardonnay is far more difficult to procure — the vast majority of it is by allocation, meaning that even if it were the same price and score, availability would presumably have pushed this one lower in the rankings 🤔. This casts doubt on either the list, the system they use for scoring or both. If anyone wants to break down the “logic” on that for us, please do so in the comments.

Anyway…

Here’s a look at the outcomes for the past 10 years, visualized in “charts”:

Let’s “talk” about these “results”

The data from 2016–2025 underscores a WONDERFUL little structural bias toward red wines and a specific “Power Trio” of regions: Napa Valley, Bordeaux, and Tuscany. While white wines and “diverse” regions like Spain or Australia make up a massive portion of the American wine aisle, they are largely sidelined in the Top 10 rankings. For instance, Spanish Ribera del Duero represents incredible value in the red wines under $30 price category and are very well distributed to the USA. Yet it has appeared exactly 0 times in the past 10 years — and Spanish wines barely made an appearance. Other major wine countries like Portugal and South Africa are completely absent. This isn’t just a reflection of quality, but a byproduct of Wine Spectator’s criteria, and evidence of bias that goes beyond it. By prioritizing wines that are widely imported and possess a certain prestige, the list naturally gravitates toward large-scale, “high-scoring” producers in “established” regions which creates a self-fulfilling prophecy where “Big Wine” producers who have the distribution muscle to be widely available are rewarded with top rankings that further cement their market dominance and so-called “premium” status.

On top of that, the prominence of a few specific producers (most notably Antinori & Aubert) highlights a preference for consistency and historical pedigree over “new discovery” and highlighting under-appreciated and overlooked quality wine regions. The fact that a handful of estates can secure multiple Top 10 spots in a single decade suggests that once a producer aligns with the Wine Spectator credo, they become “safe bets” for the editorial team. While academic studies find only marginal evidence of direct “pay-for-play” regarding advertising, the alignment between major advertisers and the regions featured in the list is hard to ignore. For the average reader, the list appears to be a comprehensive survey of the world’s best wine, but in reality is more of a high-level shopping guide for the “usual suspects” of the luxury wine market.

Perspectives “we” can take on this:

Cynic: It’s a marketing engine that rewards big advertisers and promotes high-volume brands to keep the industry’s “big players” happy (UNLIKE ME!).

Pragmatist: It’s a reflection of the U.S. market. The biggest, most consistent producers in the best regions “naturally” rise to the top of a list that demands high volume. (DUBIOUS!)

Purist: The list is mathematically flawed because it weighs “availability” as heavily as “quality,” meaning it isn’t a list of the best wines, but the most popular and widely distributed “highly scoring” wines. This severely penalizes the poor little “small producers” making their merry little way in the “premium wine world” and keeps the “big boys” (e.g. Antinori) dominating the annual lists FOREVER.

A Little ”Taste Test”

We decided to taste one of the wines from the list (a Barbaresco from the exceptional producer Produttori, WS#7 of 2025) and pit it against a wildcard wine from India, an afterthought of a country in the world of zeus juice. The Produttori is shown as having a price of $57 on the Wine Spectator list, making it the second cheapest to the #3 wine Ridge Lytton Springs (though it is actually the cheapest wine on the list according to Wine Searcher). Even still, it represents a wine that is probably too expensive for the lay-drinker.

By volume the Indian wine is between 1/2 and 2/3 the price, and we chose it randomly without having ever tasted it before (because “why not?”). The question we’re asking is – is the extra money worth it for a “top 10” ranked wine (even the cheapest one available), and was India (and everywhere else that isn’t France or the US) basically snubbed this year?

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2012 Krsma Estates Cabernet Sauvignon 1.5 L / $60

Profile: Black plum, prune, mint, blueberry, licorice, bay leaf, sassafras, chocolate, tobacco
Palate: Dry, medium+ tannin, medium+ acid, full body, long finish

Took a real gamble on this “South Indian beauty” and it “paid off.” It was amazingly fresh for its “age” and showed lots of layers that just kept “paying off” as the sun made its merry little way through the sky. Incredible value from an incredibly underrated region of the so-called “world.”

Score breakdown: Balance 37 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 92 points (Z)

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2021 Produttori di Barbaresco (#7 WS wine of the 2025) / $51

Profile: Rose petals, violets, red cherry, dried strawberry, cranberry, blackberry, licorice, ginger root, sassafras, sandalwood, chocolate, white pepper
Palate: Dry, high tannin, medium+ acid, full body, long finish

Classic, great quality Barbaresco. Absolutely worthy of the list, and not at all unexpected, because as “we” know, Produttori di Barbaresco is consistently an outstanding value nebbiolo that often performs above its “proverbial” weight. The 2021 is in another league with impeccable balance, pronounced floral notes, a mix of fresh and dried red and black fruit character and perfectly integrated oak spice.

Score breakdown: Balance 40 / Aroma/Flavor 18 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 96 points (Z)

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So what does this little sample size of one tell us? Well, it tells us at very least that the list contains some quality wine, but it’s also meant to highlight that top notch wines can be found in a far broader spectrum of regions and styles than what the Wine Spectator likes to pleasure themselves with.

But it’s not a question of whether or not the wines that do make the list are worthy of praise and/or your time. What we hope to highlight here today is that the Wine Spectator’s Top 10 list is created by looking through an extremely narrow window and it does a disservice to the incredible diversity of wines out there that never had a shot of being showcased in the first place — even within the confines of the selection criteria (which are questionably applied).

Ultimately, it’s just a list of pricey wines that Wine Spectator felt like promoting.

Disagree? Dox us and send us hate mail. Or complain in the comments.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

Happy “new years” you giggle-juice jolly gaggle of winoclasts. We’re just jumping out of our jorts with ideas for 2026 — but what better way to kick off the new year than with a little “in memoriam” for our favorite articles of 2025?

Before we “dive in,” if you’ll “indulge us” in a little poll it will literally make our year

TANNIC PANIC’S BEST OF 2025

Yeast “The Friendly Beast”

In this “iconic issue,” we zoom in on the wonderful little world of “yeast” — our microscopic “little friend” that turns ordinary grape juice into the so-called “happy sauce” we all know and love. We unpack how different yeast strains, both wild and commercial, can make the same variety range in flavor profile from a fruit salad to a “bandaid” (THE GOOD KIND!) depending on “who” is doing the fermenting. With an “homage” to Ridge Vineyards and some “scientific insights” from “our dad,” we explore how these sneaky little fungi take bugs for joy rides, craft complex aromas, and impart delicious bready notes through the underappreciated “process” of autolysis.

This $4 Bottle Ruined My Life

A first hand account of how a humble $4 bottle of Andre sent me on a wonderful little journey that ruined my life.

100 Point Wine From Scratch

In our “milestone” centennial issue, we attempt to build ourselves a 100-pointer from scratch using just two everyday bottles from Total Wine and a healthy dose of elbow grease. After the cheapest “100 pointer” we could find flopped under our own scoring system, we guzzled our way through hypotheses involving milk, lemur juice, and a little “je ne sais quoi” before landing on a surprisingly harmonious blend that almost reaches our lofty goal.

Summer Wine Cocktails

“We” took an extremely wholesome little summer detour to explore some “alternative” ways of imbibing wine when it’s hot out.

Can AI replace somms?

With AI on the proverbial rise, we thought it would be an interesting topic to bring to the table with some of the other talented wine writers on Substack. We kick off the first of a series of articles discussing how we think this new “era” we inadvertently willed ourselves into will impact the people educating and serving you your Zeus juice.

Is Champagne Doomed?

Did you know Champagne is facing a WONDERFUL little mortal threat? Will it still exist in 10 years? WHO KNOWS! Read about it here.

Seduced by a Label

In a “world” where aesthetics and marketing play a major role in “consumer choices,” this issue discusses the literal neuroscience and marketing strategy behind wine labels and then “field tests” the notion that “pretty labels” predict zeus juice quality, highlighting how the “prettiness of wine label” is an ABSOLUTELY terrible quality predictor (UNLIKE ME!).

Labor Intensive Wines

To honor “Labor day,” we decided to pay tribute to some of the world’s most “labor-intensive” wine regions - from Mosel’s extremely steep slate cliffs to Douro’s steep-banked vineyards, where the wines are literally built from the mighty strength and grit of the storied homo sapien doing real “blue collar” work.

Does Vintage Actually Matter?

In this issue, we took a “spirited” look at the often overrated “vintage” as a key metric for determining wine quality. We dive into the role of weather patterns, “global warming, ”site nuance and variable “taste preferences” and why individual palates are often a more important factor than objective measures of “vintage quality.”

Mystery of the “Red Wine Headache”

The so-called “red wine headache” is a commonly talked about, but highly misunderstood “phenomenon.” This issue discusses the common “misconceptions,” along with the most “scientifically plausible” explanations for this wonderful little ailment.

Thanks for toughing it out with us for yet another year of rambling in our drinking jorts. It’s all about “the friends” we make along the way.”

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

For some strange reason December 20th is “Sangria day,” but we find ourselves scratching our scraggly little heads wondering why a classic summer drink would be celebrated in the heart of winter? Why not instead turn our sights on mulled wine, which, if you don’t think too hard about it, is basically just hot Sangria?

A pot on the stove, the smell of spice and the humble “orange peel,” the soft alchemy of heat – what more could anyone possibly need for a good time?

Indeed, ‘tis the season when wine ceases to be but a simple “beverage” and transforms into a wonderful “winter blanket” we can all “huddle under” together, so this week we’re taking a little departure from our “regularly scheduled programming” to “celebrate” the Nordic and/or German tradition of serving wine hot when winter comes a-knockin.

Warmed, spiced, and poured all a-steamin’ into thick-handled mugs, drinks like Glögg and Glühwein have long been embraced as cold weather “fodder” in Europe. In ancient times, long before the advent of central heating, primitive people had no choice but to throw their Zeus juice into whatever the pre-electricity equivalent of the “microwave” was and fortify it with sugar, spice, and “everything nice” to transform the cold weather into an absolute Carnívale of jovial imbibement. Without it, surely entire civilizations would have crumbled with chattering teeth, sadly roasting their salty little pre-industrial meatsticks over the “open fire.”

While some “purists” might decry the practice of altering the character of their beloved Zeus juice so dramatically, the reality is that these drinks are just one more way of “celebrating” wine – and why should we deprive our grateful little holiday bellies of that “warm fuzzy feeling” when it’s cold outside?

WHAT ARE GLUHWEIN & GLOGG?

Glögg (The “Swedish” kind) and Glühwein (The “German” kind) are both traditional mulled wines, but they have distinct histories, “personalities” (LIKE ME) and regional styles.

Glühwein traces its so-called “roots” back to the proverbial “Roman times,” when spiced, heated wine was consumed not only for warmth, but also to mask the taste of wine that had passed its ideal drinking window. By the “15th century” it had become a staple at German Christmas markets (and a “staple” of the “German diet” for that matter), especially in the form of red wine simmered with sugar, cinnamon, cloves, and citrus.

Swedish glögg, in contrast, allegedly appears in written records from the “17th century,” but is believed to have predated that by at least a hundred years, popularized by our good friend “King Gustav Vasa” in the 1500s. This was likely influenced by the German tradition but it features stronger spices and often a goodly splash of “higher octane Zeus juice” (e.g., aquavit) to “enhance” the experience.​

In style, Glühwein is typically a lighter, more aromatic mulled red wine, sweetened modestly and spiced with cinnamon, cloves, star anise, and orange, served hot but not overly rich. Swedish glögg tends to be richer, sweeter, and more complex (UNLIKE ME): it often uses a mix of red wine and spirits, is simmered with more sugar, and features a heavier spice blend that traditionally includes cardamom and ginger, and is served with blanched almonds and raisins.

Needless to say, both are unrealistically “festive” winter drinks that we can all enjoy literally any time we’re feeling “parched.”

In honor of these WONDERFUL beverages, we’ve included a little recipe for our riff on winter glöggery that’s so good, it will have you literally jumping out of your jorts with joy.

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GLÖGGWEIN FOR JORTS ENTHUSIASTS

Since classic glögg and glühwein lean hard on warming spices, citrus, and sweetness, we’ve built upon that and concocted a recipe with an extremely wholesome little twist – a black tea infusion that gives the drink another layer of depth and a slightly more tannic backbone. Turns out it’s pretty good.

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Ingredients (serves 6–8)

Wine base

• 1 bottle dry red wine (750 ml, pick whatever you have lying around, doesn’t need to be fancy – we used a left over bottle of AVV cab and the remnants of a cheap Bordeaux)

• ½ cup port (we used tawny, some recipes recommend ruby)

• A “goodly splash” of brandy or aquavit (optional, we prefer brandy for this recipe but aquavit is the traditional added spirit for glögg)

Aromatics & Sweetener

• Zest of 1 orange (avoid the humble pith)

• Juice of 1 orange

• 1 strip lemon peel

• 2 cinnamon sticks

• 1.5 tsp whole cloves

• 1 tbsp fresh ginger

• 4 cardamom pods

• 1 tsp whole black peppercorns (and/or BERRIES)

• ¼ cup maple syrup (or less if you prefer a “dryer Glögg”)

Our wholesome little twist

• 1 “strong” cup black tea (e.g., English breakfast)

Garnish (optional)

• Blanched almonds

• Golden raisins

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Method

1. “Build” the proverbial spice bath (but keep your jimmies on while the “bath” is “loading”)
   In a medium pot, combine the tea, citrus peels & zest, spices, maple syrup, orange juice, and port. Warm “gently” for 10–15 minutes.
   No boiling, or else.

   

2. Add the wine
   Lower the heat and pour in the red wine. Warm until steaming but not simmering. If the mixture is still hot after adding the wine, proceed to step 3.

3. Steep, then rest
   Turn off heat, cover, and let steep 20–30 minutes. Taste. Adjust sweetness with more maple syrup (or brown sugar) and add brandy/aquavit if you’re “feeling thirsty”

4. Strain and serve
   Strain into mugs and imbibe. Go ahead and add little “blanched almonds” and “raisins” to your “mug” if you are so inclined, HOWEVER, we at Tannic Panic believe in a “chunk free” glögg experience.

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If you have the strength…

Make this a day in advance. Strain the mixture prior to storing in your refigerator and reheat gently before serving. Much like stew, Rioja, and my dwindling faculties, glögg improves overnight.

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Now get out there, sit in your steamy little sauna with your fuzzy little “family and friends” and literally “mull” over the happy season with a steaming mug of G****. Then plunge into the snow and repeat “the journey.” That’s tradition, baby!

Here’s to a “warm fuzzy feeling” in your grateful “holiday belly.”

Got any mulled wine favorites we missed? Think our recipe is terrible? Hurt our feelings! That’s what the comments section is for.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

Barolo was the first wine style we ever covered “here” at Tannic Panic, in large part because it represents some of the best of what high tannin wine has to offer. But some (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) would argue it teetered too far in that direction for their sensitive little palates, and as a result, some 50 years ago, a literal “Tannic Panic” ensued, prompting times to “a-change.”

The so-called “modernization” of Barolo wasn’t so much a gradual evolution as it was a provocation – a deliberate break from a century of “practice” and “peacetime jubilance” in the unassuming little village of “Barolo.” The inflection point came in the late 1970s and early 1980s when a small group of nutty little winemakers, later nicknamed “the Barolo Boys,” challenged the region’s entrenched traditions with “clenched fists.” At the time, Barolo was respected in the humble “world of wine,” but not the most widely “adored” because the wines were notoriously austere and tannic to the point of hostility (to “less welcoming” palates), and they required hundreds of billions of years, if not decades, to become approachable.

Many growers were struggling (LIKE ME!) financially due to the extremely long period between harvest and viability of product, and the fact that in spite of its proverbial pedigree, Barolo was failing to compete on the international stage (ALSO LIKE ME!). That’s where “our amico” Elio Altare comes in – a young producer from La Morra who became the so-called “ideological spark” of the modernist movement.

The “moment we’ve all been waiting for” finally came in “1976,” when goodly Altare – frustrated to the point of ripping off his mustache by the sluggish evolution of winemaking traditions – traveled to Burgundy to see how top domaines achieved finesse, purity of fruit (THE GOOD KIND), and, of course, cleanliness “of cellar” – all while releasing ready to drink wines after far less aging.

He returned home literally electrified by his “learnings:” the French used shorter fermentations, “gentler” and preciser (real word) extraction, and small French barriques that “polished tannins” like shoes and deepened “aromatics” without years of slumber. Determined to remake Barolo in this new image, Altare took a “freshly sharpened chainsaw” to the family’s crusty old botti, literally cutting them apart in the courtyard – an act of symbolic violence that scandalized the Langhe. His father proceeded to “scromit” violently in the courtyard and subsequently “disown him.” Neighbors, Italy, and, yes - the entire world - were “outraged.” But to younger producers “thirsty” for change (LIKE TODAY’S YOUTH), Altare’s rebellion was an invitation.

Among those who joined him were early modernist allies such as Paolo Scavino, Domenico Clerico, Roberto Voerzio, and later Luciano Sandrone, each adopting variations of Altare’s approach: drastically shortened macerations, rotary fermenters, meticulous vineyard work, and, most controversially, the use of new French oak for aging Barolo.

DID YOU KNOW… in spite of shorter maceration periods, which typically correspond with lighter colored wines, the modernized style actually tends to produce darker wines due to the techniques used for extraction (e.g., rotary fermenters).

The resulting wines were darker, silkier, more aromatic, and dramatically more approachable in youth (LIKE ME!). As international critics began “championing” these so-called “wines” in the late 1980s and “early ’90s,” the movement accelerated. The “Barolo Boys” thusly became both the heroes and heretics of the story, praised for rescuing Barolo from stagnation and condemned for betraying its obstinate “lineage.”

The Present Reality

These days, Barolo is by and large produced using some blend of the modern and traditional techniques, with an aim to preserve the classic Barolo style while still delivering a product that can reasonably be chugged within a few years of release.

How then, can we discern whether a Barolo we are planning to guzzle will be ready for said imbibement? How do we know if it is made in the modern or traditional style? It’s not always possible to track this information down, either due to the producer not publicly releasing the details or, in some cases, branded products where even the full picture of who is producing the wine is nebulous. But there is one hint that can be immediately used to glean whether at least some level of modernity has been embraced, and that’s the bottle itself.

The region’s characteristic vessel is the Albeisa bottle, a gently shouldered, uniquely shaped (LIKE ME) glass created for Piedmont wines and widely used for Barolo regardless of style. But producers with a more “international” mindset are now often opting for Bordeaux‑style straight‑shouldered bottles to signal a modern aesthetic, while staunch traditionalists will emphasize heritage through Albeisa glass and classic, understated packaging. But as with literally everything in life, this is a matter of branding rather than a hard stylistic rule.​

Neato! Let’s dive into the reviews.

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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2018 Barreri & Rovati Barolo Riserva (“hybrid” style) / $24

Profile: Potpourri, orange peel, copper penny, red cherry, sour plum, mushroom, touch of bay leaf, chocolate, hint of fresh ginger, petrichor, burnt rubber (completely dissipated over the course of hours)
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, full body, long finish

My honest reaction to this upon first taste was to hurl my glass angrily across the room and scream “YUCKY!” But my reason for that was the intensity of a sort of burnt rubbery tar smoke note that dominated the palate and read as bitter and off balance. As the wine opened up, that began to dissipate. Within a couple of hours, it was tasting monumentally better. By day 2, as I sit “here” writing this, the wine is an absolute delight to drink. While my notes reflect aromatics from day 1 and day 2, bear in mind that my final scoring reflects the final state of the wine (AS WELL AS MY “FACULTIES”) as I “visit” it today.

Before I dive too deeply into the experience of drinking the wine, I’ll note that this characteristic that is sometimes present in wine (the nasty rubbery smoke stuffs) is often a result of reduction, which happens in the low oxygen environment within the bottle. The cure? Oxygen exposure. Thusly, when you encounter a wine that is off-putting due to that sort of note, you may find the results of letting it breathe to be transformative, as was the case with this bottle.

This wine is sharp, but not dominated by sourness – it comes across in the metallic “copper penny” format typical of Piemontese Nebbiolo – with tannins that coat the so-called “mouth” like a supershort pile velvet. For those sensitive to tannins and higher acid wines, it may be a little too much, but for me neither aspect was off-putting. It’s not a fruit bomb; the primary notes are more floral with wholesome support from mineral notes (petrichor, wet stone), some spice, and orange and cherry hanging out in the aisles. There’s obvious signs of age but that subtly enhance the overall profile, and there’s a touch of herbaceousness that is perceptible on the nose but not so much on the humble palate.

All in all, I see this as a phenomenal get for a Barolo (riserva, no less) at the $24 price point, and shockingly good quality for a cheap bottling of the 2018 vintage which was viewed as a more difficult and slightly weaker year in a string of great vintages. My strong suggestion would be, if you are the type of drinker who has the “strength” to open a bottle a day before drinking it, to do so and you will be rewarded “generously.” If you’re not that kinda gal, spend $21 on the 2020 Barreri & Rivati Barbaresco Riserva instead and drink it whenever the absolute beans you want.

Winemaking: Because Barreri & Rovati is a brand name and not publicly linked to the actual producer, definitive information on winemaking is difficult to track down (if you have any sources, please share them!). For that reason, our estimation of stylistic choices is based on what we can observe – the use of the modern bottle shape, and evidence of potential oak flavors (chocolate) which suggests the possibility of barriques, though the subtlety of it and lack of any other real clear new French oak aromas or flavors supports the idea that the approach is still heavily relying on traditional aging in more neutral vessels. The color is also a little darker so it wouldn’t surprise me if rotary fermenters were used, but the intensity of tannins and acid in the bottle indicate ageworthiness, and like the Barolo of yore, this little feller will probably only get better for years to come.

Score breakdown: Balance 35 (29 initially) / Aroma/Flavor 16 (13 initially) / Concentration 13 / Length 15 / Complexity 9 = 88 Points (I)

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2019 Sordo Barolo (“Traditional” style) / $40

Profile: Rose petals, dried cranberry, dried cherry, sour plum, blackberry, orange peel, ginger, licorice, fresh mint, hint of “perfume”
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, full body, long finish

This Barolo is “clinic” in structure and restraint (THE GOOD KIND) - rose petals, dried cherry, and a delightfully medicinal blend of mint, orange peel and licorice. This wine is all about “angry tannins,” vibrant acid, and a long drying finish. This will continue to improve with at least another decade, but if you can get behind the enjoyment of a “mouthful of tannins” (LIKE ME!) - this will do the trick.

Winemaking: Fermented in temperature-controlled stainless steel with a very long submerged-cap maceration, then matured first in steel and subsequently for about two years in large, neutral Slavonian oak botti, followed by further time in bottle before release, emphasizing “terroir driven” characteristics, firm tannins, and varietal character.

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 14 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 90 points (Z)

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2020 Rocca Giovanni Ravera di Monforte, Barolo (“Modern” style) / $47

Profile: Black cherry, black plum, strawberry, raspberry, rose petals, wet stone, forest floor, chocolate, vanilla, cedar, licorice, mixed spice
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, full body, long finish

This wine leans into the “darker side” of Nebbiolo—black cherry, plum, and rose petals in a glossy coat of spice, cedar, and wet stone. The mouthfeel is slightly richer and more layered than the Sordo, but the acidity and tannins still give it enough structure to not feel “flabby” (a difficult task in the “category”). It’s a “modern” expression done in a “civilized way” that shouldn’t anger too many so-called purists.

Winemaking: Fermented with a relatively short maceration (LIKE MY GESTATION), then aged for around one year in French oak barriques followed by additional maturation in large Slovenian oak casks and several months in bottle, yielding plusher texture, more polished tannins, chocolate, vanilla, and spice nuances associated with a more “modern” Barolo “expression.”

Score breakdown: Balance 37 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 92 points (Z)

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So whether you’re an old school Barolo purist, or a modernist who demands a healthy dose of new French oak in every drop you drink, one thing is clear: Barolo good.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

If you’re “like us” then “Morocco” isn’t exactly the first country that comes to mind when you think of wine production. And in spite of a long history of Zeus juicery, the country is probably best known internationally for its beautiful “desert landscapes,” mint tea, “bustling souks,” and “athletes” (e.g., “El Guerrouj” – the world record holder in the so-called “mile” for the last ~3 decades).

But its wine tradition stretches back to Phoenician and Roman periods (as is tradition), long before Islam became a dominant force in the cultural framework. And with the arrival of French colonial gizzardry in the early 20th century, Moroccan viticulture underwent a dramatic expansion: French settlers planted vineyards to supply a thirsty “metropolitan market,” applying French-influenced winemaking techniques that have shaped Morocco’s contemporary wine identity. Today, while the industry is smaller than at its mid-century peak (LIKE ME!), Morocco is still one of North Africa’s most significant wine producers (with minimal “competition”).

Morocco’s geography gives it an extremely humble viticultural advantage. Climatically, it has quite a bit of overlap with Spain, particularly in the coastal regions where the cooling influence of the Atlantic moderates the country’s heat, allowing grapes to ripen fully while retaining freshness. Inland, higher-altitude sites in the foothills of the proverbial Atlas Mountains offer greater diurnal shifts that favor aromatic whites and structured reds. The country’s soils are varied (limestone, clay, sand, and a little rock known among friends as “schist”), which allow for a wide array of varieties to infest the earth with their grumpy little roots. Among them are international staples like Cab Sauv, Syrah, and Chardonnay, along with Mediterranean “favorites” such as Carignan, Cinsault, and Grenache. So, to summarize, “on paper,” Morocco (basically a geographic “suburb” of Spain, but with extremely French viticultural “influences”) is well positioned to pump out wines that rival the powerhouse winemaking neighbors to “the north.”

Despite facing regulatory, climatic, and cultural complexities (like religious resistance to alcohol production), Morocco’s wine industry has persevered. Export markets in Europe and North America have grown more receptive to Moroccan bottlings (especially rosé and Rhône style red blends) and as an excruciatingly wholesome result, we have the wonderful little opportunity to taste some of them for this week’s post.

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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2022 Dune Rosé, Morocco / $20

Profile: Orange creamsicle, strawberry, hay
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, medium+ body, medium+ finish
Blend: Cinsault, Grenache

When I put in this order at Specs, the person who tracked down the bottle told me that in all the years he’s worked there, he’s never seen anyone buy any of their bottlings from Morocco or even ask about them. Dune is the one Moroccan producer they stock (and not regularly, it would seem, since of the three listed, all that was available was the rosé), which underscores how little known they are, and as a result, demand is low and the wines are perhaps underrated.

This wine was fairly pale and not especially pink (the photo I took is a little deceptive because of the orange mat it’s set on) — In-glass and in the right light I almost could have confused it with a deeply colored white wine. Aromatically it was a mix of orange, strawberry, vanilla, cream and a touch of hay. Generally pleasant, and on the palate it was dry and refreshing and decently well balanced. Where it really lacked was concentration and it offered no additional flavor complexity once the guzzling began.

All around a fairly simple wine that I’d gladly drink a glass of on a warm day — but is it worth the price tag? Definitely not for me.

Score breakdown: Balance 35 / Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 12 / Length 11 / Complexity 4 = 77 Points (I)

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2022 Syrocco Syrah, Morocco / $25

Profile: Blackberry jam, black plum, mixed berry jelly, hint of concord grape, black olive, mixed spice, tin can, wet rock
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, medium tannin, medium+ finish

This was the only Moroccan offering at the “local shop,” This Syrah is a collaborative project between the “legendary” Rhône producer Alain Graillot and Morocco’s oldest winery, Domaine des Ouled Thaleb (aka Thalvin). This was a decent wine with ripe black and red fruits (bordering on jammy), a hint of concord grape (the “offputting” kind) and limited complexity.

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 14 / Length 11 / Complexity 6 = 83 Points (Z)

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While the results of our tasting of the extremely limited sample of bottles available to us was overall rather middling, it was also eye opening to experience wines from region we otherwise wouldn’t have considered. So now it’s your turn to “do your part” – get those stubby little legs of yours moving faster than El Guerrouj and grab yourself some Moroccan Zeus juice.

Find something good? Share your rec. Find something terrible? Scromit about it in the comments.

Oh yeah, and happy “Cab Franc day.”

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

You’ve probably heard people complain that red wine gives them headaches – in fact, you may be one of those people. But the common theories for why, even those with a scientific basis, appear flimsier and flimsier as we dig deeper into the underpinning mechanisms and other implications of their impact on the proverbial noggin. In many cases the reality of it suggests that same compounds are contained foods we consume on a daily basis and thus everyday eating would be a more likely trigger. In other words, in the absence of symptoms when eating “our meals,” it becomes increasingly dubious to blame those compounds for headaches in wine.

As such, today we’re going to take a little headfirst dive into the most commonly spouted theories, highlighting where they get it right, where they get it wrong, and what our take on the whole debacle is.

Because this post was inspired by the following sequence of events…

Friend goes to Italy → drinks red wine (as one does) → magically gets no headaches (usually he gets them from reds) → attributes this to “lower sulfites” in Italian wine (the explanation the winemaker offered him)

… sulfites is where “we” will begin.

SULFITES AKA “SO2”

One of the wholesomest misconceptions in the wine world is that sulfites are giving you headaches. Wrong! And doubly so when arguing for why red wine specifically gives your needle nosed noggin a nasty one.

Not only do sulfites appear in higher concentrations in most white wines than reds (because whites typically need more protection from oxidation), everyday foods like dried fruit, french fries, pickles, and cured meats often contain far more sulfites per serving than any glass of [INSERT YOUR FAVORITE WINE HERE] ever will.

Nevertheless, the premise that sulfites are responsible for wine headaches has not only taken root as a popular little idea among wine drinkers (steeped in the industry or otherwise), it has even prompted the creation of a whole spread of products that claim to magically remove sulfites from wines and has spurred sometimes misguided support for a movement to eliminate the use of sulfur in the winemaking process altogether. And while sulfites are technically toxic to humans in substantial quantities, this isn’t unique to products we consume (perhaps you’ve heard of salt), and for the most part, they make wine safer and more enjoyable to drink.

To give a sense of relative quantities of SO2 in wine versus foods, take a look at this neat little bar chart courtesy of Wine Folly:

Some “individuals” may be more sensitive to sulfites (“poor them”), but in the rare instance someone does have a true sulfite sensitivity, the reaction is overwhelmingly respiratory, not “headache-atory,” so you’ll be wheezing your little asthmatic heart out well before you keel over to massage your sensitive little “cabeza.”

As for our goodly friend who went to Italy who we’ll call “Brandon” because that’s his real name — while it is true that Italy caps the total allowable sulfites in red wine at 150 mg/L (it’s 200 for whites and up to 400 for sweet wines) which is significantly less than the U.S.’s 350 mg/L cap, the average sulfite level in a dry red is still about the same as a dry red in Italy (~50mg/L). It’s those highly manipulated mass market reds that typically have the highest sulfite levels, and again, it’s still not particularly high relative to widely consumed and barely scrutinized foods.

In other words, given its greater prevalence in other dietary staples like your morning fistful of raisinated goji berries, the bottom line here is simple: if sulfites were the issue, “Brandon” probably have known it years before he poured himself a glass of “the good stuff” (OR THE BAD STUFF).

HISTAMINES

The next “popular scapegoat” for us to point our stubby little fingers at – histamines – has some merits. If you already suffer from severe histamine intolerance or a deficiency in the enzymes that help break histamine down, you can experience symptoms when consuming high-histamine foods and/or beverages. But this is a tiny percentage of the population, and generally speaking for those people, wine is far from the worst offender.

According to “research,” aged cheeses, sauerkraut, eggplant, spinach, fish, sausage, and salami all contain vastly higher histamine levels than red wine ever will (JACI study). Another study found no correlation between wine quality and histamine concentration, meaning you can’t buy your way out of histamine exposure by avoiding mass market plonk (PubMed).

Bottom line: if histamines are the culprit, you’re probably already sneezing your merry little way through life and wine is the least of your worries.

TANNINS

Then there’s this shiny little thing called “tannins” (REMEMBER THOSE?) – a polyphenolic compound that exists in far greater concentrations in red wine than white. Tannins don’t get thrown around too much as an excuse for advil, but they merit mention because they can sometimes cause headaches in specific situations. They don’t tend to affect the cranial well-being of the general population, but there is a mechanism by which they can – serotonin release – and the people who get got by this little bugger are among the small population whomst find themselves unusually sensitive to this pathway.

If tannins affect you, then black tea, dark chocolate, walnuts, or even the elusive juice of the humble “pomegranate seed” would all present a similar issue for you.

For 99% of “drinkers,” tannins aren’t the problem – they’re the solution (THE GOOD KIND!).

WINE ADDITIVES

It’s also worth addressing wine additives, because this is where things get both nuanced and overblown. The U.S. does indeed permit a noteworthy number of winemaking additives, but that does not mean every American wine is a ticking time bomb of megapurple, vanillin, and gizzard juice. Many U.S. producers, especially small, quality-focused ones, more or less limit additions to the classic trio: grapes, yeast, sulfur.

Many other countries also allow a range of additives, though they may be disclosed differently or culturally normalized. Basically, there’s no blanket statement about wine from one country or another that can reliably indicate what is contained in the bottle, it comes down to the winemaker’s decisions and in many cases, far more localized regulations (e.g., AVA wines, DOC wines, etc).

To bring us back to the example of wine in good old Italy – yes, American wine at the lowest price points is often more manipulated than Italian wine of the same cost. It also often harbors a bit more residual sugar, which can increase the likelihood of headaches because it can contribute to dehydration. As such, this could well be the culprit if “Brandon” has been primarily buying cheap American wine when at home. A simple solution to test this theory would be to try a bottle of cheap Italian wine and see if the headaches go bye bye.

And now we must examine our final candidate for the presidency: Quercetin.

WHAT IS QUERCETIN?

Quercetin is a colorless flavonol (a type of polyphenol) found at variable levels in black grape skins (the kind used to make “red” wine) that accumulates in response to sun exposure. As a result, the concentration of quercetin varies dramatically across grape varieties depending upon sunlight, viticultural practices, region, vintage and the intrinsic characteristics of the grape.

Nebbiolo, Cabernet Franc, and Pinot Noir contain notably high levels, while Sagrantino and Tannat, despite their notorious tannin content, show among the lowest quercetin concentrations, highlighting a fundamental biochemical distinction between the two polyphenolic compounds, tannins and quercetin.​ NEATO!!!

So what in gods green gizzard does quercetin have to do with the humble “headache”?

In “the simplest terms,” quercetin can make it so we get a headache more easily from consuming alcohol.

That’s because it can slow the body’s breakdown of acetaldehyde, the toxic compound formed when we metabolize alcohol. The more quercetin we consume, the longer “the bad stuff” lingers, and ipso facto, the worser the headache may be.

The alleged headache mechanism involves a “metabolic competition” between alcohol and quercetin. When you drink alcohol, the liver converts ethanol to acetaldehyde (a goodly “toxin”), which is then metabolized by the enzyme aldehyde dehydrogenase 2 (ALDH2) into the unassuming and harmless acetate molecule (the acid component of humble “vinegar”). But quercetin — specifically its metabolite, the infamous “quercetin-3-glucuronide” (Q3G) — inhibits ALDH2 enzyme activity, reducing its ability to efficiently break down acetaldehyde.

The result of this jovial little “battle” is that acetaldehyde accumulates to higher levels and gets cleared more slowly when alcohol is consumed in the presence of its little “friend” quercetin, which potentially amplifies “symptoms” such as flushing, nausea, and headaches (THE BAD KIND) in “susceptible individuals.”​

Critically, this effect requires both components to be present: quercetin alone (present in onions and other plant “foods”) causes no headache on its own; alcohol alone does indeed produce headaches when consumed in excess; but quercetin + alcohol synergizes to increase acetaldehyde accumulation.

In theory, this also means that pairing wine with high‑quercetin foods (e.g., anything heavy on onion, capers, shallots) might have a similar (or even more pronounced) headache‑inducing effect to a “high quercetin red wine,” because the metabolic interaction happens in the bloodstream, not in the glass.

For context, a typical medium red onion (about 148 g) contains on the order of 40–60 mg of quercetin, with a reasonable mid‑range estimate around 47 mg. By contrast, a standard 5 oz (≈148 ml) glass of red wine averages only about 1.2 mg of quercetin, with a realistic range from roughly 0.07 mg in low‑quercetin reds up to about 4.7 mg in very high‑quercetin examples. Even for a grape like Nebbiolo, which sits at the high end of the spectrum (LIKE ME) and can clock in around 8 mg/L, a 5 oz pour delivers only about 1.2 mg of quercetin.

That’s about 40 times more quercetin in a single red onion than a 5 oz glass of a high‑quercetin red such as Nebbiolo.

And while this emerging hypothesis has a ton of well understood science to back it up and does offer a viable explanation for the red wine headache, the fact that foods people regularly consume with all types of alcoholic beverages contain much higher levels of quercetin than red wine weakens the argument for quercetin being the primary cause.

http://phenol-explorer.eu/contents/show/1/291/135 table from → https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/10554248/

So What Options People With “Red Wine Headaches” Actually Have?

Option 1: Give up and live a miserable, red wine free life. This one is a nice one-step solution and can be implemented immediately.

Option 2: Take a look at the problem with fresh eyes. If you have experienced headaches as a result of consuming red wine on multiple occasions and you are confident that something in red wine is the cause, the goal should be to figure out why. The chemical composition of a glass of red wine can vary greatly from bottle to bottle (depending on the varieties used, the winemaking style, etc.) and especially in cases where certain wines have been identified that don’t cause the adverse reaction, you need to gather more data points to paint a fuller picture.

Generously assuming you’ve ruled out the possibility that the headache came from drinking too much alcohol, next step is to focus on things in red wines that have indeed been identified as possible culprits. We know it’s not sulfites if white wines don’t also give you headaches, so we can rule that out (and can probably rule it out either way).

For histamines, identify a couple of high histamine foods and see if you end up with a headache from simply eating those. If so, lucky you! You’ve found what may be at fault and there are anti-histamines you can take to brighten your life.

For our leading candidate, quercetin, since the reaction is directly linked to the presence of both quercetin and alcohol during the metabolic process, try drinking a known low-quercetin wine and a high-quercetin wine on separate nights. Control the other variables, like hydration, food consumption (and food type – remember, quercetin exists at higher levels than any wine in many foods, such as onions), and number of glasses consumed. Alternatively, try consuming a quercetin rich food (like red onion, preferably cooked) and drinking a glass of white wine and seeing what happens.

None of these solve the mystery for you? Experiment! Solve the mystery for the world! Try drinking small quantities of different varieties of reasonable quality and see if you can identify any trends. There are so many different compounds present in wine, there’s a good chance the real causes are yet to be identified.

Option 3: Embrace the possibility that it isn’t wine being red that is the cause. Factors like higher abv (compared with white wine), residual sugar, undisclosed additives, and your own dietary and hydration choices could well be at play here. If you spend the same budget on red wine as white wine, then it’s also worth noting that at lower price points, especially in the United States, red wines are far more likely to be manipulated and contain other additives and higher levels of residual sugar. In that case, it could be that the simple solution is finding higher quality red wines (which doesn’t necessarily mean forking up more money).

Option 4: If all else fails, embrace the headache. Own it, make it yours. Don’t let anyone or anything take it away from you.

Now we didn’t do any histamine tests (sorry, dad), but we did review a white wine, a high quercetin red, and a low quercetin red, all of which we recommend, and all of which can be used in your little experiments to come. None of them gave us headaches, but for us, they never do.

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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1. 2024 Chardonnay Viognier, France / $7 [WHITE WINE]

Profile: Honeydew melon, gardenia, white peach, sea shell, lemon zest
Palate: Dry, medium acid, full body, long finish

I’d call this aromatically pleasant and highly drinkable. A crisp, floral and melon-driven profile. It’s not particularly rich or concentrated, and it would benefit from some more vibrance – a bit more acid, a bit more fruit on the palate. That said, for $7, this is a solid get, and no headache ensued.

Forgot to score it, but it’s solid value for the money (I).

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2. 2021 Fratelli Revello Barolo / $32 [HIGH QUERCETIN OPTION]

Profile: Red cherry, cranberry, dried strawberry, roses, violets, tar, menthol, licorice, iron, black tea, wet stone
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, medium+ body, long finish

Classic young Barolo vibes (THE GOOD KIND!) are here to “play”: Bright red cherry and cranberry with a little dried strawberry for “good measure.” The floral character is a dominant feature here with violets, roses along with tar and licorice. The tannins are firm and mildly angry, but not brutal, the acidity is high (LIKE ME!), and the iron, black tea, and a wet stone note that really bring this wine “home.” A really great Barolo from the “wonderful” 2021 vintage for a relative bargain in the category. Great stuff!

Score Breakdown: Balance 39 / Aroma/Flavor 18 / Concentration 14 / Complexity 8 / Length 15 = 95 points (Z)

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3. 2018 Montioni Sagrantino Montefalco / $46 [LOW QUERCETIN OPTION]

Profile: Plum, cherry reduction, prune, fig, chocolate rum cake, cinnamon, tobacco, mint, asian spice
Palate: Dry, high tannin, medium acid, full body, long finish

Really rich and structured with primarily reduced red stone fruits (cherries, plums), along with prominent oxidative and tertiary notes from initial bottle aging (dried fruits, tobacco), chocolate rum cake, spices and herbal notes. The only slight detriment to the balance here is the obnoxiously high ABV (15.5%), but overall an exceptional and opulent style of wine that I would highly recommend if you’ve never had a Montefalco Sagrantino.

Score Breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 18 / Concentration 15 / Complexity 8 / Length 15 = 94 points (Z)

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So to put a bow on Brandon’s little adventure – while he didn’t really escape those insufferable sulfites in Italy, he may have consumed lower ABV, lower quercetin wines.

Our theory (which he emphatically rejects) is that he was just living the absolute dream on vacation in a beautiful place and the general all-crushing weight of everyday life was lifted from his shoulders, if only for a moment.

But who can really say – in the end, the best we’ve got are theories, so for now let’s just try to push those baseless ones into obscurity (LIKE ME!).

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

Remember that $8 Barossa Cab/Shiraz from Trader Joes that had us singing like a pair of fresh squeezed lemurs a few weeks back? Well needless to say, it reminded us that we were overdue to see what else our old friend “Trader Joe” has in store these days.

In doing so, what we encountered was an existential flood of jorts-dropping deals across the proverbial “wine section” – a mix of cut-rate classics, comfort swill, and bottles priced so low for their categories we almost couldn’t believe our beady little eyes.

Needless to say, some “inventory clearing” was in order, and all in the pursuit of finding out one simple truth: are these actually good deals, or is it a case of low prices tricking our lizard brains into buying plonk?

This week, we picked four bottles that caught our eyes as potential sources of EXTREME VALUE, and tasted our merry little way to their shiny green bottoms. But before we get to the “results,” let’s talk a little about how “Trader Joe” manages to stock the shelves with so many bargain bottles.

Don't Care? Skip to Reviews!

The Wine Section “At Large”

Tradey JJ’s is able to offer wines from “prestige” regions (e.g., Grand Cru Bordeaux, Barbaresco Riserva, etc) at unrealistically low prices largely because of the scale of the business. It’s similar to how Costco and other major retailers with their own wine sections work: microscopic margins and massive volume.

They leverage strong buying power and they can sell the wines with almost no mark-up (like pennies on the bottle). Minimal overhead (centralized warehousing, efficient shipping, and predictable nationwide demand) also helps them force savings onto customers.

But most importantly, their extremely wholesome customer base often blindly trusts that any bottle on the shelf will be a good deal, which allows them to sell through inventory quickly (plonk or otherwise), giving them leverage to secure future discounts from suppliers eager for guaranteed placement.

TL;DR it’s a numbers game — they don’t need to inflate prices for profit because they sell so much dang Zeus juice.

Private Label and Rotating Selections

Trader Joe’s is known for its “Reserve,” “Grand Reserve,” and “Platinum Reserve” labels (and the occasional “Diamond Reserve” when they’re feeling frisky). These label terms (“Reserve” “Grand Reserve”) aren’t regulated in any way, so there’s no guarantee of quality associated with them; they’re really just marketing terms that are meant to imply a tiered standard of quality.

These labels represent limited or rotating lots from regions across our tiny little globe that TJ’s can offer for a limited time. Once the lot is sold, the exact wine may not return, since they continuously source new lots based on availability.

Trader Joe’s also carries labels that aren’t self-branded, but aren’t carried anywhere else. These are also essentially just white labeled bottles that sneak around pretending to be their own brands (e.g., Rosa Dell’Olmo, Panilonco Chilean wines).

So what exactly is in these bottles, and how did it get there?

By arranging “deals” (THE LUCRATIVE KIND) with producers to buy a guaranteed share of their wine and white label it, Trader Joe “plays the hero” by helping producers mitigate risk while offering wines at a major discount. The producers (many of whomst are recognizable names in the industry) don’t risk devaluing or altering the perceptions of their own label because their involvement generally isn’t made public information. In turn, Trader Joes offers bargains on wines from “prestigious” little regions that usually demand much higher “price tags.”

It’s worth noting that some of them do not reflect good quality for cheap. For example, if a producer has a significant overstock, they might cut a deal with Mr. Joe to move a large quantity at a discount just to get it off their “grubby little hands.”

The reason that they had that overstock in the first place might be because of poor market conditions, but could also potentially mean that quality was an issue. Producers may just need to find a use for the grapes they didn’t deem “suitable” for their own label’s standards (of quality or style). Those wines exist only on TJ’s shelves and are usually of lower quality than wines typically made by that producer.

ALL THIS TO SAY – and let us quote the once and forever great “Forest Gump” on this – “we didn’t know for suresies what we were gonna get when we opened this here box of chocolates.”

So let’s find out what we did get…

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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2020 Fior di Vino Chianti Classico Riserva / $8

Why we chose this wine: Tuscany is always a great place to look for value, so lower priced bottles often punch above their weight, but what caught my eye with this one was the it is a Riserva. This means that the bottle was required to be aged for a minimum of 24 months with at least 3 in the bottle (vs 100% in barrel), and in general the best grapes are “reserved” for these bottlings. Seeing that on an $8 bottle is unusual and potentially an exceptional value if it delivers.

Profile: Multi vitamin, copper penny, rubber, orange peel, red cherry, grape
Palate: Dry, tart, high acid, high tannin, medium- body, short finish

Smells just okay (not the biggest fan of the ole multi-vitamin, rubber and Welch’s grape juice trifecta) but it comes through with some key “deliverables” on the palate — dry, high acidity, and high tannin. The bright cherry and orange peel notes are in there somewhere, but they are not the most prominent.

Where it really struggles is balance — it’s excessively tart and the tannins are a bit harsh (I generally like high tannin wines, but they do not act harmoniously with the wine here). Outside of just tasting sour, the flavor falls short, as does the finish. There’s also a slightly bitter aftertaste.

While this wine isn’t especially impressive on its own, it has the makings of a very strong food wine and to that end, still delivers value at this price. I won’t get into it too deeply here, but dry, high acid and high tannin wines are often very food friendly.

My rec if you’re gonna give this one a gander — consider drinking alongside hearty fare, or use it as the base wine for a sangria.

Though the score is low by typical critic standards, bear in mind that this is an evaluation of the wine on its own and should be considered on all of its merits. If you are unfamiliar with how we score (since it differs from the typical 100 point scale) please take a look at the breakdown of the system from when we rolled it out.

Score Breakdown: Balance 31 / Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 12 / Length 7 / Complexity 5 = 70 Points (I)

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2023 Trader Joe’s Platinum Reserve Saint-Julien Lot #126 / $17

Why we chose this wine: Saint-Julien sits at the heart of Bordeaux’s infamous Left Bank, home to some of the most pedigreed and age-worthy Cab blends on the planet. Bottles from this appellation typically start north of $50 and can easily spread their mighty little wings and soar into triple digits, even for entry-level cuvées from major chateaux. So seeing anything labeled Saint-Julien for $17 is borderline unheard of. Trader Joe’s “Platinum Reserve” line usually “signals” access to declassified juice from top-tier estates — wines that didn’t quite make it into a chateau’s grand vin but still come from the same vines, terroir, and same obsessive winemaking. If that’s the case here, this could be a serious sleeper deal.

Profile: Yogurt, blackberry, blueberry, plumskin, vanilla, a little musty, hint of green bell pepper, persimmon
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, full body, medium- finish

The nose is basically all dark fruits and yogurt. The taste is sour. A little aromatic “digging” reveals a hint of green pepper poking its dirty little head out every once in a sniff, and the astute observer might even stumble across a persimmon or two. There’s also a musty note, like a wet towel you left in the back seat of a hot car — not pervasive, but perceptible.

A bit rough and thin at first; improves with air and has solid structure. Definitely lacks the power I associate with Saint-Julien and goes a little “light” on the complexity, but at $17? This is not a bad get. Not a bottle to train your memory of Saint-Julien on, but not a drain cleaner.

This one is worth aging (or decanting if you can’t wait) — a server at the Maison du Vin in Bordeaux once said to me while pouring a bottle of the most recent vintage that to even offer Bordeaux this young was “blasphemy.” I wouldn’t go that far, but the spirit of what he said holds true: there’s room to improve.

Score Breakdown: Balance 34 / Aroma/Flavor 15 / Concentration 13 / Length 11 / Complexity 6 = 79 Points (I)

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2020 Barreri & Rovati Barbaresco Riserva / $20

Why we chose this wine: Barbaresco is one of Piedmont’s “crown jewels.” It’s an appellation that turns the persnickety little Nebbiolo grape into something beautiful, and built for decades of aging. Entry-level Barbarescos usually start around $40–$50, and “Riserva” bottlings — which, like Chianti Classico Riserva, have strict aging requirements (in this case at least 50 months, 9 in barrel) — often climb much higher. So finding one at $20 is nutso. If this wine even remotely captures the unspeakable goodlyness that defines true Barbaresco, it’s not just a deal, it’s required drinking.

Profile: Cherry, strawberry, thyme, hibiscus, spice, copper penny, vanilla, bandaid
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, medium body, long finish

Classic and flawlessly balanced in my opinion. Notes of thyme, hibiscus, copper, and red fruits with high tannin (THE SMOOTH KIND), high acid, and a long finish. Extremely food friendly but incomprehensibly drinkable on its own.

Silky and complex with excellent length and character. An absolute steal at this price. To give you a little perspective, after buying the first bottle for this tasting, I returned to the store and got an additional case out of fear they might run out before my next planned visit, so believe me when I say I firmly believe this is one of the best deals out there at this price point.

If I were you, I would stop reading right now and act accordingly (aka beeline for TJ’s and deplete them of their stock).

Score Breakdown: Balance 40 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 14 / Complexity 7 / Length 15 = 93 points (I)

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2015 Chateau Laroque Saint-Émilion Grand Cru, Grand Cru Classé / $30

Why we chose this wine: The classification system in France can be confusing, and the label on this bottle is a great example of where it gets especially muddled, but to help put this into perspective, here’s a quick breakdown — Saint-Émilion Grand Cru is an appellation (the “Grand Cru” appended at the end there isn’t the classification, it’s part of the region name). It has slightly stricter standards than Saint-Émilion (also an appellation). Grand Cru Classé is a classification in the Right Bank classification system that is awarded to wines of established quality. Above that are Premier Grand Cru Classé A & B, which are even more prestigious (and expensive). This particular bottle is from the 2015 vintage, which is considered to be among the greatest all time vintages for the right bank. Thus, seeing a bottle that combines these neat little label terms for $30 got me jumping out of my absolute jimmies at the prospect of extreme value.

Profile: Tomato paste, earth, vegetal, green pepper, plum, briny seashell, toasted mocha, ballpoint pen ink, slight barnyard, dates, blackberries, juniper, licorice, tobacco leaf, chocolate, thyme!, black cherry, roasted chestnut
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, high tannin, full body, long finish

As you can see from my rambling profile notes, new aromas and flavors kept coming to the surface. It just did not stop developing as it opened up. Rich, earthy, and deeply complex — tomato paste, earth, plum, ink, mocha, blackberry, tobacco, ETC, with fine tannins and great balance. Super smooth, perfectly aged by my standards, and still capable of evolving. If you like earthy, rich wines, this is your jam.

Incredible value. Make like me and buy all the remaining bottles in stock (unlike the Barbaresco, I rolled the dice and did it in advance just based on my knowledge of the region and vintage. It paid off).

Score Breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 14 / Length 15 / Complexity 10 = 94 Points (I)

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The lower priced of the bunch (the Barossa from “before,” the Chianti Classico Riserva, and the TJs Saint Julien) are value picks if you are looking to spend under $20 on a bottle these and want something you can pick up on your way to the dinner party without feeling like a basic little dingus and ruining everyone’s lives.

For those of you who are willing to spend just a few more coppers on a bottle (LIKE ME!), the Barbaresco and the Saint-Émilion Grand Cru offer insane value on exceptional quality. Bring these to the dinner party and everyone will instantly be impressed by your brilliance in the ever-loving “field” of Zeus juice. Drink them alone in the “comfort” of your “home” and no one needs to know.

THE CHOICE IS YOURS.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

WINOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOS!!!!!!

Grab your ouija boards, chug a jeroboam of Carignan, and start smashing some gourds because it’s that time of the year again.

Today is a two for one special because it’s both “Carignan day” and the eve of the spookiest holiday we’ve got.

And while the variety itself may not be haunting anyone’s dreams, Carignan just so happens to be a fitting grape for the occasion, because in a sense, it itself “rose from the grave.”

A Brief History of Carignan

Carignan stitched its meaningless little story through Spain and southern France before quietly carving itself a niche as a winemaking wild card in ye olde “New World.”

Originating in the region of Cariñena in Aragón, Spain (a region from whence one of our delectable little “botellas” materialized this week), Carignan made its merry way across the Mediterranean and found a “loving home” in the hot, dry soils of the Languedoc-Roussillon, where it once held the hotly contested title of “France’s most-planted variety.” Wow! But things took a dark turn for this beady little grape.

As the tendrils of fate would have it, by the mid-to-late 20th century, Carignan had fallen from its mighty heights; once covering ~167,000 ha (~412,000 acres) in France, the very traits that made Carignan so extensively planted (its prodigious yields, its resilience in hot, dry soils, and its suitability for blending) also made it vulnerable to a change in market demands and so-called “regulatory pressures.”

Its massive footprint in the warm climate and relatively fertile soils of the Languedoc-Roussillon region resulted in high-yield plantings that favored high volume over high quality. As Miquel Hudin (Decanter) put it: “plantings were expansive … as Carignan was loved for what is actually its worst quality: over-production.”

As a result, the “volume-monster” image of Carignan took hold: lots of hectares, lots of grapes, less distinction. Its reputation slid as the industry and consumers shifted toward premiumization and “terroir-expressive” wines.

While detailed figures are hard to track down for the same period in Spain, the general consensus is that Cariñena’s humble land-footprint also shrank noticeably from the peak period in the 80’s for many of the same reasons as it did in France. By 2004 national surface area was ~7,000 ha (~17,000 acres) and fell further to ~5,644 ha (~14,000 acres) by 2015. The total acreage has lingered around there in the years since.

Nevertheless, Cariñena’s undead hand keeps popping up in Catalonia, where Priorat’s so-called “renaissance” since the 1980s has leaned on old-vine Cariñena (with vines often exceeding 100 years old in some areas, like Poboleda/Porrera) to bring structure and a little je-ne-sais-quois (THE SPANISH KIND) to the blends – proof that in the right schist and with low yields, the “workhorse” can howl.

California tells a similar “ghost story.” Between the 1960s and 1980s, Carignan was the widely planted red (Central Valley jug-wine fuel!) before acreage slid as growers chased Chardonnay/Cabernet and other “goodifiers” (real word). It went from literally the most planted grape 50 years ago in support of our nation’s insatiable “thirst” for mediocre Zeus juice, to something of an afterthought. Cue the resurrection: producers “mining” ancient vines (e.g. Ridge’s Buchignani plantings going back to 1927; Contra Costa and Mendocino heritage blocks) are bottling vibrant, acid-bright Carignane that’s more raven than raisin. And they’re not alone.

So I guess we can “un-quoth” the raven, “Nevermore.”

Ultimately, this grape’s heartwrenching tale is less about the “dom/sub” relationship it has with other plantings, and more about resurrection: once dismissed as a high-yield “workhorse,” its revival owes itself to producers who now coax depth, complexity, and personality from vines old and new on even the humblest of terroirs.

DID YOU KNOW… Carignan is one of the two parent grapes of the “illustrious” Ruby Cabernet (cross of Carignan x Cabernet Sauvignon), a hybrid created to combine Carignan’s extreme “heat tolerance” with Cabernet Sauvignon’s “higher quality.” This resilient little grape thrives in California’s hot Central Valley, where it contributes body and acidity to the abundant discount jug wines that come from the productive little region.

Carignan in the Glass

What makes Carignan so fascinating in the glass is the consistent mediocrity it delivers on all fronts: a medium-to-full bodied red with a juicy backbone of generic red and black fruit layered with nondescript spice, earthy/herbal notes and a bright acidity that go just fine with “richer fare.” OK – perhaps that’s an overexaggerated blanket description of this poor defenseless little grape, but it rarely shows its dirty little face in public as a single varietal for a reason – it does best with “support from friends.”

Of course, there are exceptional single varietal examples out there, they are just fewer and farther between. Holler if you have any recommendations for little old us.

In the meantime, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to taste the living dead out of a couple of bottles that use Carignan/Cariñena in the blends.

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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2020 Navascués Cutio Garnacha Cariñena, Cariñena DO, Spain / $16

Profile: cherry, raspberry, mocha, rose, licorice, hints of bay leaf, hickory smoke, and dill
Palate: Dry, medium- tannin, medium acid, light body, long finish

Blend: 85% Grenache, 15% Carignan

Color me shocked! Far from tasting like a cheap wine, this was a killer deal for $16 and much better than I expected (mayhaps I’m too cynical). Really nicely balanced with attractive aromatics that showed surprising layers of complexity, like a chocolate covered cherry and an espresso bean had a baby on a humble bed of roses and licorice. A whisper of smoke and bay leaf give it a little twang. Subtle dill notes suggest perhaps a little good old fashioned American oak may have been a part of the equation. If I could change one thing about this wine it would be to imbue it with a little more tannin structure. Personally I prefer that style and I think it would have improved the balance to crank it up a notch, but the subtlety here makes the wine excruciatingly drinkable on its own; absolutely no need to pair this (you’re allowed to if you want, though). I’d recommend this strongly to anyone who likes easy drinking reds that don’t demand a snack. Really great discovery from Total Wine, will unquestionably be repeating this purchase.

Score Breakdown: Balance 37 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 7 = 91 Points (I)

Note: I tasted this on two consecutive days and scored it on day two. Calling this out as I think it substantially improved with a day “on the air.”

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2023 Ridge Three Valleys Zinfandel / $30

Profile: Plum, red cherry, strawberry preserves, bramble, blueberry, rose, white pepper, dill, mocha
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, medium tannin, full body, long finish

Blend: 71% Zinfandel, 16% Carignan (wow!!!!), 9% Petite Sirah, 2% Mataro, 2% Alicante Bouschet

A solid wine with primarily red fruits, bramble, a dollop of blueberry, a “rose-like” floral note and well integrated oak spices. Not as rich or structured as I would hope for at this price point, but a reliably “good wine” if you have no better options.

Score breakdown: Balance 37 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 14 / Length 15 / Complexity 7 = 89 points (Z)

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Its story is one of resurrection, “reawakening” and everlasting friendships (the blended kind), so in honor of Carignan Day — or HalloWINE, “if you prefer” — consider it your mission to dig a little deeper in your angina-riddled heart’s proverbial “rucksack” and find the strength to track down some Carignan.

If you don’t, the decision will HAUNT YOU.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!
Isaac & Zach

When it comes to consumables, Mexico is more immediately recognized for its food, fructose-free Coke (THE GOOD KIND), and tequila. But believe it or not, Mexico is the oldest wine-producing nation in the Americas (though the United States, Chile and Argentina tend to dominate “the conversation”) and produces a diverse range of wines, including premium bottles that contend with the best of them.

So with Dia de los Muertos just around the corner, “we” figured, what better time to pay Mexico a “little visit,” and shine a much-deserved “neon light” on a wine-producing country that is too often overlooked (LIKE ME).

HOW DID WE GET “HERE”?

Extremely “generous” Spanish colonists introduced Vitis vinifera grapevines to Mexico in the 1520s, only a few years after the conquest of the proverbial Aztec Empire. Hernán Cortés angrily ordered settlers to plant vineyards to supply wine for “Mass” (and his own insatiable gullet), and by the late 1520s, viticulture was well underway in central Mexico. Casa Madero, founded in 1597 in Parras de la Fuente, Coahuila, stands as the oldest winery in the Americas still in operation today.

DID YOU KNOW… Mexico was the first country to produce wine in the Americas – Chile and Peru didn’t start producing wine until the 1550s, Argentina followed in the 1560s, and California’s “serious viticultural efforts” only began with Franciscan missions in the late 18th century.

In spite of its so-called “beginnings” in Central Mexico, today the Valle de Guadalupe in Baja “California” (aka the “Napa of Mexico” aka “the land of jorts and bebidas” aka “Baja California”) is Mexico’s wine heartland, producing ~90% of the country’s wine. It sports a good old-fashioned Mediterranean climate with ocean cooling influence and humble granite soils that “encourage” expressive Cabernet, Syrah, Merlot, Tempranillo, Grenache, and Nebbiolo (to name a “few”).

The Valle de Guadalupe merits its own full post in the future, so we won’t bog this one down too much, but we can’t talk about Mexican wine in the modern context without mentioning this prolific “valley.”

As we move inland towards the so-called “meat” of the country, the aforementioned Valle de Parras in Coahuila is a source of ripe yet structured reds, while Querétaro’s cool highlands specialize in traditional method sparkling wines using a combination of classic Cava grapes (e.g., Xarel-lo, Macabeo) and some less conventional varieties like Ugni Blanc (often used in Loire Valley sparkling wines).

As a testament to the quality of wine being produced in Central Mexico, the Don Leo Gran Reserva Cabernet won the proverbial “trophy” (THE FIRST PLACE KIND!) for Best Cabernet Sauvignon in the Concours International des Cabernets (CIDC), beating out competitors from 24 other countries, including “fan favorites” such as “France,” “USA,” “Chile” and “South Africa.” As of 2025, the Mexican “wine industry” is worth $4.4 billion USD (UNLIKE ME), with exports led by Baja and Coahuila.

Due to the far smaller percentage of exports coming from Mexican regions outside of the Valle de Guadalupe, it’s much more difficult to track down examples to try here in the United States. But boy oh boy were we jumping loose of our drinking jorts when we saw that a bottle of traditional method sparkling from Queretaro was available at our local wine store. Needless to say, we’ve given it a gander here today.

Let’s dive into the juice.

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEW:

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1. NV El Bajío Traditional Method Sparkling, Queretaro, México

Profile: Toasted almond, ripe golden pear, apple, black tea, dandelion, lemon rind
Palate: Dry, medium+ acid, medium body, long finish

Blend: 50% Macabeo, 40% Xarel-lo and 10% Ugni Blanc

Quite an interesting wine with concentrated flavors that developed in the glass. It “sported” gentler bubbles than expected which dissipated relatively quickly (though I’ll note I drank this from a standard wine glass and not a flute, which expedites this process). Not too much in the way of lees flavors. Initial aromas are toasted almond and ripe pear and apple. A subtle vegetal floral aroma, like dandelion with a touch of hay, along with lemon peel add some layers. Notable black tea flavor lends a slight bitterness that helps balance out the ripeness of the fruit. I would have preferred a touch more acidity to brighten everything up and a livelier mousse, but this is an intriguing wine worth trying. It’s only one data point, but the tea component carves it a niche independent from the traditional Cava style, and it is far less lees-influenced in flavor than most of the old world traditional method sparkling I’ve tasted. This has certainly piqued my interest, so as hopefully more sparkling from Central Mexico makes its merry little way north across the border, I’ll be here, eagerly awaiting my next chance to wrap my grubby little mitts around them.

Additional deets about the winemaking & producer (source):

• Winemaker is Lluis Raventós Llopart.

• Grapes come from Bernal Valley in Querétaro, North-Central Mexico.

• Traditional method sparkling; undergoes secondary fermentation in the bottle and is aged 18–24 months on the lees.

• Dosage of 5.3 g/L and an alcohol level of 11.5%.

• The producer, El Bajío, is a collaboration between La Competencia Imports and Freixenet de Mexico, created for the U.S. market. Their lineup includes two sparkling wines (Brut and Brut Rosé) and two value still wines (Marselan red and Viognier white).

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Well if you weren’t convinced before, let us informulate you of your new “job” this week: head on down to the store, procure some Mexican Zeus juice (the sparkling kind) and have a little “fiesta” in your flute.

Don’t be an aguafiestas: drink Mexican wine.™

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

In what is colloquially known as “recent history” the international eye has largely focused on Mount Etna when talking about Sicilian wine, leaving the island’s southern Vittoria region in relative obscurity (LIKE ME!). Yet it’s “here” that the flamboyant native grape Frappato thrives, producing light, aromatic reds bursting with jovial red berries, rustic herbs, and “flowers.”

Thirsty? Skip to Reviews!

Though still not especially well known in the United States, Frappato has become a symbol of Sicily’s shift away from international grapes like Merlot toward a proud “rediscovery” of its proverbial roots.

DID YOU KNOW… The name is derived from frattato, which surprisingly has nothing to do with eggs – it literally means “fruitful,” and it delivers on that promise.

Who is Frappato?

Frappato is an indigenous Italian variety grown primarily in “Sicily” (small quantities are also grown in “Puglia”). It is typically slightly chilled when drunk (LIKE ME!), and it is highly “approachable” thanks to its generally low (with some notable exceptions) tannins and high-toned fruity flavors. The palate is refreshingly light and dry (despite the often-jammy aromas), and as a result it can be paired well with foods otherwise typically relegated to whites. Stylistically, it is sometimes compared to Beaujolais or Pinot Noir.

Oak aging is sometimes used by the most “adventurous” producers, but most prefer stainless steel or concrete tanks to preserve Frappato’s fruit purity and vibrance, saving barrel aging for wines requiring extra texture or “muscularity.”

Although Frappato lives a “happy life” as a single varietal, the grape is also a key component in Sicily’s only DOCG wine, Cerasuolo di Vittoria, where it’s blended with the darker, fuller bodied, and arguably worse “Nero d’Avola” to create a balance of freshness and depth.

Bringing Frappato back into the “Limelight”

We would be incredibly “remiss” if we failed to mention the esteemed “Occhipinti” family in the context of Frappato. The phylloxera epidemic nearly de-existenced the classic Frappato Nero blends of the island, but thanks in large part to a trio of friends who began focusing on producing wines in the traditional style in the 80’s – COS winery, founded by Giambattista Cilia, Giusto Occhipinti, and Cirino Strano (the name of the winery comes from the first initial of each of their last names) – the style was kept alive (Read a great deep dive on their story here).

Giusto Occhipinti’s literal niece, “Arianna,” has carried the so-called “torch” into a new generation.

According to an article by Daily Seven Fifty, “Arianna Occhipinti could only ever imagine making only one type of wine: ‘human wine.’” But over time, it would seem she settled for making wine out of grapes instead, because she is largely credited with “introducing” our “naive little palates” to the “Frappato” we know and love today.

Featured in today’s reviews is an Occhipinti Frappato, which was one of the two Frappato available at Total Wine. It commands a price of roughly triple the value bottle (also reviewed here), which for many people would make it cost prohibitive, especially in the context of a style that is often seen as an easy drinking and relatively simple style. Were the extra bones justified, or is it just a major premium for the prestige of the name? Let’s find out…

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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2024 Cortese Nostru Frappato, Terre Siciliane IGP / $16

Profile: fresh strawberry and raspberry, fresh orange, red vines, thyme, wet stone, hint of rubber
Palate: Dry, high acid, low tannin, light body, medium+ finish

Crisp, fresh, beautiful bright ruby color, luscious fruit flavors. Aromatically didn’t get much in the way of herbs (my first thought was “red vines”), but upon sipping there was a fresh thyme character that joined the humble party. All around a really cool wine for the price, definitely better with a little chill to it, I kept this in the main fridge and let it “thaw” for ~15 minutes before serving. Relatively low alcohol, high acid, and refreshing, making it a strong choice for hot days or just some easy drinking without needing food to counterbalance structure. A really well balanced and straightforward wine – all around a “good time.” For $16 this is a great deal.

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 13 / Length 14 / Complexity 5 = 85 Points (I)

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2023 Occhipinti Il Frappato Terre Siciliane IGP / $45

Profile: Blackberry, black plum, black olive, cranberry, orange peel, rose, sourdough yeast, a hint of mocha, hint of cumin, juniper, wet clay
Palate: Dry, high acid, medium+ tannin, medium body, long finish

Wow, these two wines are worlds apart. It’s slightly darker in color and slightly more opaque than the Nostru, and it sports a completely different profile. Honestly, if I had only tasted the Nostru, I would have told you there was no way these were from the same grape and region. In fact, my first impression was almost closer to a Nebbiolo-based wine, but a bit more sour. Subtle evidence of oak. Grippy tannins with a pretty light mouthfeel, concentrated flavors with a super long finish. Layers of complexity — black fruits, cranberry, orange peel, rose, wet stone, herbs and spice — my honest instinct would not be to drink this chilled (though it didn’t hurt, I tried it both ways). Super long finish. I think if I had to settle on a stylistic comparison, it falls somewhere between a Xinomavro and a Barolo. I was skeptical that such a vast price difference could be justified, but this wine is poised to turn some heads. Worth it? Depends deeply on your preference, but if $45 for a bottle doesn’t turn your stomach, I strongly recommend giving it a try.

Score breakdown: Balance 37 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 9 = 93 Points (I)

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Both wines are widely available at TotalWine, and both “pass muster” at different price points as far as “we”re concerned. Now all you need to do is muster up the strength to go get some — just don’t spill it on your drinking jorts.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach

Here at Tannic Panic we often find ourselves struggling to even identify what year we’re living in, let alone the year printed on the bottle. But on those special, rare occasions that our faculties remain adequately tethered to reality, we’ve found “vintage” to be a useful way of garnering some “information” about the wines we buy.

But what does “vintage” really mean, and how much weight should you give to that “year” on the label?

Let’s Begin with “the Basics”

If we’re waxing poetic, the humble “vintage” might be described as a year’s worth of “nature” compressed into a fleeting moment of Zeus-juician glory (or disappointment). More simply put, a wine’s vintage is just the year the grapes were harvested (not the year it was bottled, nor the year the tiny berries were “born”).

But it’s more than just a number – when taken in tandem with region, it carries with it the story of everything that “transpired” in the vineyard: rainfall and drought, heat spikes and cold snaps, “intimate moments” and even “friendly visits” from “local pests” (LIKE ME!).

These unpredictable factors shape the balance of sugar and acid, the ripeness of tannins, the intensity of aromatics and the very integrity of the everloving berries we all so desperately “rely on.”

Some years are immediately hailed as “great” (e.g., 2021 in Tuscany or 2018 in Bordeaux) while others are quickly written off. But the truth is more complicated.

Vintage as a Guide, Not a Gospel

We like to stay “up to date” on vintage reports for any regions we “study by the glass.” These reports are updated regularly and have varying focuses (e.g., an overall grade of the vintage, a summary of the conditions of the growing season, readiness for drinking, etc). And while all of those things can be useful and we strongly encourage giving them a proverbial “gander” if you haven’t, they should never be treated as universal truths. A “five-star” vintage doesn’t mean every wine is excellent, just as a “poor” one doesn’t doom all bottles to “plonkocrity.” In fact, depending on the basis for those scores, you may find that you actually tend to prefer wines from a so-called “lesser” vintage.

HERE’S WHY:

1. Regions are mosaics. A report on Tuscany might declare a vintage “hot,” but say little about a high-elevation vineyard in Chianti Classico where cooler nights preserved acidity, or a coastal Bolgheri site where consistent breezes balanced out a hot summer. In places like Sonoma, microclimates can vary dramatically within a few miles. Our foggy little friend the “Russian River Valley” might as well be a world away from the sun-baked Dry Creek in some years. That doesn’t mean there aren’t potentially blanket truths in a region, but it does mean that the reality is more “nuanced” than a broad report might suggest.

2. Expectations are benchmarked. Against “recent successes” and against “popular styles” of the time. Example: Modern “excellent” Bordeaux vintages (e.g. 2009, 2010, 2016, 2018, 2019) are riper and more extracted in style with higher ABVs (14-15%) in contrast to the “clarets” of yore. Wines that were once lauded might generally score lower as a result were they to be produced today.

3. Taste is subjective. Wines from a cooler-than-typical vintage might be higher in acid and lower in alcohol than usual for the region, but that doesn’t inherently make them worse. Believe it or not, YOU get to decide.

“Bad” Vintages Can Shine

Ironically, a “lesser” vintage is sometimes the better choice today. Wines from cooler, rainier years often mature faster and can show beautifully in their youth, while highly rated vintages might need years (or decades) to “unfurl” their “angry little tannins.” A 2021 Bordeaux might be accessible and ready to drink now (LIKE ME), while a brooding, tannic 2020 still begs for “patience” to allow its true “greatness” to evolve.

And we can’t reiterate enough that what counts as “great” depends on your taste. If you like fresher, more acid-driven reds, you might prefer “challenging” years to the blockbuster, “global warming” driven ones.

How “We” Judge a Vintage

Benchmarking a vintage usually means comparing it to a region’s historical average — for ripeness, concentration, balance, or aging potential. But that’s inherently subjective. Is “classic” Bordeaux cool and restrained, or lush and opulent? The answer depends on your palate and on how climate change and global preferences for “Parkerized” styles are reshaping those expectations.

Nonetheless, by exposing yourself repeatedly (in private) to specific vintages, you can start to develop some benchmarks of your own. Even a single benchmark vintage can be a sufficient datapoint for directional guidance from a vintage chart. By knowing how you feel about a certain vintage (ie, how well was it balanced? Concentration levels? Astringency?) you can more reliably leverage information about how other vintages differed. Here’s a wholesome little table with some directional guidance on how differences in vintages might actually impact the wine you are drinking.

Many of these factors have effects that are a bit more complex than can be captured by a table like this. For example, a hot growing season is likely to decrease acidity, which in turn tends to decrease age-worthiness, but if a wine is already very high acid, the increase in alcohol and concentration of flavors might actually make the wine more age-worthy. In other words, there is context dependence, so it’s better to focus on the directional influences relative to your own benchmarks when applying this logic.

2021 “Case Study” in Bordeaux & Tuscany

Bordeaux 2021: Classical and Cool

After the warmth and concentration of the excellent string of 2018 to 2020 vintages, 2021 was a “return” to old-school Bordeaux (THE GOOD KIND?): cooler temperatures, lower yields, and fresher profiles. Many wines are lighter, with red-fruited aromatics, crisp acidity, and moderate alcohol. Critics were initially “lukewarm,” but producers who “managed their canopies” carefully and “picked their berries” selectively crafted beautifully balanced wines that are already approachable. Compared to the powerful 2020s, some might find 2021 to feel like a “literal breath” of fresh air; nice for near- to mid-term drinking, less extracted and lower in alcohol.

Tuscany 2021: Balanced and Bright

Tuscany saw a relatively steady growing season in 2021 after the warmth of 2020. Conditions were dry but not scorching, producing wines with vibrant acidity, ripe but not jammy fruit, and fine tannins. Chianti Classico in particular excelled, offering a blend of freshness and structure that harks back to traditional styles. While 2016 or 2019 may still be more ageworthy benchmarks, 2021 is a vintage that is already highly drinkable and has been rated as the strongest vintage in “recorded history” by Wine Spectator. The wines are concentrated and aromatic, with great structure, but perhaps less “elegance” than the humble 2022 vintage that followed (which pales in comparison by ratings, but may well be more suited to “your” palate).

… AND NOW FOR THE REVIEWS (IN ORDER OF PRICE):

[CLICK HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF HOW OUR 100PT RATING SYSTEM WORKS]

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2021 Antinori Marchese Chianti Classico Riserva / $50

Profile: Ripe cherries, bramble fruit, chocolate, orange peel, thyme, potpourri, mint, forest floor, copper penny
Palate: Dry, medium+ tannin, high acid, long finish, medium+ body

A beautifully balanced and powerful wine from the Antinori family, made with grapes exclusively from the Tignanello vineyard (but at a fraction of the price of Tignanello proper). As Chianti Classico goes, the price is definitely “premium,” but so is the wine, and it shares many of the distinctive stylistic qualities of big boi Tignanello. This is a bottle that truly illustrates the potential of the vintage. Had I not spent me last few coppers on this bottle, I’d have tracked down a 2020 or 2022 for comparison. Suffice to say, twas good.

Score Breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 18 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 94 Points (I)

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2021 Chateau Ferriere, Margaux / $62

Profile: Blackcurrant, blackberry, plum, raspberry, tart blueberry, cedar, wet leaves, tobacco, violets, mixed spice, cocoa
Palate: Dry, full body, high acid, long finish

Blend: 81% Cabernet Sauvignon, 13% Merlot, 5% Petit Verdot, and 1% Cabernet Franc

This wine channels the 2021 vintage’s cooler, more restrained “old school Bordeaux” style—with vibrant (but still concentrated) black and red fruits, high acidity, high tannins, cedar, herbaceous notes and lower alcohol (13%) than prior recent vintages. After the plush richness of 2018–2020 Bordeaux vintages, this 2021 is made in the so-called “proper claret” style of the “olden days,” before global warming started “having its way” with many recent vintages.

Score breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 91 Points (Z)

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If you really want to pinpoint key differences by vintage, one of the best ways to do that is to “engage” in vertical tastings, which draws its name from the challenge of “remaining vertical” while tasting the same wine from many different vintages. This “field test” allows you to isolate the variable of vintage while keeping factors like producer, varieties, and region consistent.

When it’s all said and done, a vintage is but a clue, not a verdict, and the best way to understand it is still the old fashioned way – imbibe.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers,

Isaac & Zach

There’s a “pivotal moment” in every wino’s illustrious little life when the Zeus juice whispers, “you can do better.” The “art” lies in how we interpret this message: give up and move on to something else - OR - find it a “blending buddy.”

Welcome back to the latest installment of “Alchemy or Blasphemy?” – our ongoing series in which we “perform” what some might consider acts of vinous “impiety” in hopes of crafting a wine that is greater than the sum of its proverbial “parts.”

In Issue #88, we poked at the “emerging concept” of “post-bottle blending” and “changed the world” when we “proved” for the very first time that two decent wines mixed together can create something better than the component parts. Wow! In Issue #100, we tried to manufacture our own 100-point wine from scratch and watched the “synergy unfold.” Take a look at those if you want a little more of a dive into our overall approach to creating a more harmonious balance through blendification.

Today, we continue our merry little way down this extremely “riveting” rabbit hole with the most unconventional post-bottle blends EVER ATTEMPTED BY MAN (or at least by us).

One is purely “nontraditional”: Barolo + Petite Sirah (each bottle ~$35). The other is loosely inspired by the Syrah/Shiraz + Viognier blends that sometimes rear their mangy little heads in the Northern Rhone of “Le France” as well as Australia — in this case a Cab/Shiraz + Sauvignon Blanc, (each bottle under $10).

Let’s dive into the juice.

“Ingredient” Bottles & Alchemy Blends

FORMULA #1: ISAAC’S BLEND - Cab/Shiraz X Sauv Blanc

Why did we choose this “odd couple?”

Just ask the goodly French — they already kind of had this idea and “allegedly” it worked (Syrah with a small proportion of Viognier is a classic blend in Côte-Rôtie in the Northern Rhone, though it is not as popular as it once was) and the concept has been replicated in other parts of the world, most notably “down under.”

Because we are constantly “tinkering around” with unconventional blends, we’ve inadvertently discovered in the past that a splash of a NZ sauv blanc (think like a single capful added to a glass of red) goes an extremely long way to “brighten things up” when a wine is flabby (too low acidity, making flavors flat/dull), and it can add some intrigue in the form of sharp fruits and green notes (bell pepper, grass, etc).

AS SUCH, we figured that much in the same way that Viognier might lend some unique florality and brightness to the Syrah/Shiraz, a small proportion of Sauvignon Blanc could lift a middling Shiraz blend to the fabled “next level.”

Here’s the blueprint: we take what were among the cheapest non-2-buck-chuck bottles available at Trader Joes — a Cab/Shiraz blend from Barossa Valley and a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc — and throw them in a glass.

The grand total for both bottles together was about $15, making this experiment not only accessible to anyone with a Zeus Juice slingin’ TJs in the neighborhood, but also to those of you beautiful folks who don’t like your bottles costing more than a 3 block uber ride.

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INGREDIENT 1: 2021 Mildara Barossa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon Shiraz (73% Cabernet Sauvignon/27% Shiraz) / $8

Profile: Blueberry, cherry cola, licorice, spice, chocolate, pen ink
Palate: Dry, med+ tannin, medium acid, full body, long finish

I was genuinely shocked at how good this wine was for the price point. I am rarely happy with how a red wine tastes in the under $10 category, much less a new world red, but this was pretty ridiculous. Honestly quite a lot of luck, too, since the plan with this blend was to take any under $10 bottle of Shiraz (or Shiraz blend) and the cheapest NZ sauv blanc I could find to just see what happens (the magic of experimentation), and then write about it whether or not it turned out well.

The moment I tasted this I knew we had a good chance of creating something great, because I would gladly finish a glass of this even without blending it. 2021 was allegedly a legendary year for Barossa wines, so that is likely working in its favor, but this wine was highly concentrated without being overbearing, great structure lots of plush, ripe fruit, velvety tannins and enough acidity to hold it together. Not even a whiff of manufactured flavors/recipe winemaking, and delightfully dry (as it should be).

Honestly, if you see this wine at Trader Joe’s and don’t buy a bottle, I will kill you.

Score Breakdown: Balance 35 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 6 = 87 points (I)

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INGREDIENT 2: 2024 Nikau Point Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc / $7

Profile: Chalk, passionfruit, peach, underripe strawberry, citrus zest, lily
Palate: Dry, high acid, light body, medium finish

You’ve probably heard us preach this before, but what’s awesome about New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc is that typically even the cheapest bottles punch way above their weight class. They almost universally have that vibrant acidity, citrus and tropical flavors, and mineral notes. Often they also show some green and floral notes as well. This means that for a blend where only a small proportion of the component bottle is used, the rest needn’t go to waste because it can be enjoyed on its own. Since we are only using about 15% Sauvignon Blanc in the blends, that works in our favor here — this bottle showed classic Marlborough SB notes, but was lacking a bit in concentration and length for the category, and the acid kicked it slightly out of balance, giving the impression of drinking a simple citrus drink in spite of the intrigue on the nose. Nonetheless it was still nice to drink: sharp, refreshing, and aromatically pleasing. Overall, no complaints at this price point (though literally just a few extra dollars could buy you something noticeably better).

Score Breakdown: Balance 33 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 13 / Length 9 / Complexity 5 = 77 points (I)

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🧪 THE ALCHEMY BLEND: 85% Cab/Shiraz / 15% Sauvignon Blanc
« Average price: $7.50 | Final score: 91 points »

Profile: Chocolate, black cherry, violet, potpourri, licorice, graphite, wet stone, bell pepper
Palate: Dry, med+ tannin, med+ acid, full body, long finish

The addition of just a splash of the sauvignon blanc to the red blend genuinely transformed the wine. Now, we are working with a base wine that is already pretty strong, but man were these changes cool. Some flavors that weren’t apparent in either component were seemingly “awoken” — potpourri, violet, graphite, even a hint of bell pepper. Interestingly the blueberry note I was getting before from the red receded into the distance. The acid balance issues from the Sauvignon Blanc translated to superior balance for the final blend, adding a liveliness to the Cab/Shiraz that was perhaps a bit muted before. Overall, this was such a home run in my book, especially given the gamble we took on grabbing two bottles we’d never tried before and just seeing what happens. All the more reason for you to do the same!

Score Breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 8 = 91 points (I)

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FORMULA #2: ZACH’S BLEND - Nebbiolo X Petite Sirah

Why did we choose this “odd couple?”

To our “extremely extensive knowledge,” Nebbiolo is usually bottled as a single varietal wine and *never* blended with Petite Sirah. But that doesn’t mean this highly unorthodox blending “partnership” won’t create something that will literally make you rethink the color of your “drinking jorts.”

Here’s the blueprint: take an “entry-level” Barolo – overflowing with red fruits, piercing acidity, tannic grip, and plenty of rose-petal “perfume,” but maybe lacking that core of midpalate richness and extra complexity you would associate with a more “premium” bottling. That’s where our old pal “Stags Leap Petite Sirah” comes in (and we only needed to “swipe left” once to find ‘eem).

The “idea” is that Barolo refines the tannic structure, brightens the acidity, and adds a little lift whilst Petite Sirah “muscles up” the “body,” saturates the palate with “velvety” and “inky” black and blue fruits, and smooths out any “rough edges” with a bit of oak spice.

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INGREDIENT 1: 2020 Coppo Barolo, Barolo DOCG (100% Nebbiolo) / $35

Profile: Cranberry, dried strawberry, rhubarb, red plum, rose petals, sassafras, balsamic, dried herbs, subtle cocoa
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, long finish

Score Breakdown: Balance 36 / Aroma/Flavor 16 / Concentration 14 / Length 15 / Complexity 7 = 88 points (Z)

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INGREDIENT 2: 2020 Stags Leap Petite Sirah, Napa Valley, California / $36

Profile: Blackberry preserves, black plum, blueberry, charcoal, mocha, vanilla, cedar, mixed spice, violets
Palate: Dry, high tannin, medium acid, long finish

Score breakdown: Balance 37 / Aroma/Flavor 17 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 7 = 91 points (Z)

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🧪 THE ALCHEMY BLEND: 70% Barolo / 30% Petite Sirah
« Average price: $35.50 | Final score: 94 points »

Profile: Blackberry, dried blueberry, black plum, red plum, rose petals, violets, bay leaf, forest floor, cedar, balsamic, mixed spice, tobacco, mocha
Palate: Dry, high tannin, high acid, long finish

The result? This unassuming blend turned into a glorious “mutant” (LIKE ME!)—showing deeper layers of flavor and far more complexity than either wine could muster “solo.” As expected, it carried more plush richness and a silkier mouthfeel than the Barolo alone, but the Barolo’s bright acidity sharpened the structure, while the Petite Sirah’s riper dark fruit and oak-driven spice toned down the Barolo’s astringency. Every stage—aroma, midpalate, finish—clicked into place with a precision that felt “almost engineered.” Stylistically, the blend “reads” like a “Super Tuscan” blend of Sangiovese and Bordeaux varietals, even though literally none of those humble little grapes are in the picture.

Score breakdown: Balance 38 / Aroma/Flavor 18 / Concentration 15 / Length 15 / Complexity 9 = 94 points (Z)

Scorewise, this unconventional red blend didn’t just edge ahead — it “exploded” past both of its “formidable parents.” Proof that even the weirdest “little blends” can outperform all of their “basic friends.”

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In both cases, these weren’t “safe” blends — they were gambles. But as we’ve argued before, that’s the essence of wine alchemy, and that’s what makes it so much fun!

“Now it’s your turn,” as the old saying goes. Here are a few things to keep in mind when you start tinkering:

What to Watch For

• Aromatic reactivity — does the blend become more “interesting” than either alone? Are hidden notes appearing (dried herbs, forest floor, iodine, grandpa’s drinking jorts)? Or are notes you were getting before becoming muddled and muted when combined (ie, loss of grandpa’s drinking jorts)?

• Acid-tannin balance — is the acidity from either component overpowering or undercutting structure? How about the humble tannins? This can be a huge help in figuring out where to look for that secret ingredient that might kick it into the next gear.

• Surprise factor — DID YOU JUMP OUT OF YOUR DRINKING JORTS? What you didn’t expect is often more revealing than what you predicted, and even failures can show us the path to something great down the line.

So that’s that.

Until next time, HAPPY DRINKING PEOPLE.

Cheers!

Isaac & Zach