In his article “The Problem with Misplaced Reverence and Hallowed Wines,” Tim Atkin (MW) rightfully laments the fact that winemakers of high reputation are too often given a free ride by critics. But perhaps in striking that target he misses the bigger picture.
It was a scary moment, at least in wine terms. There I was in the cellar at Domaine Leroy in Vosne-Romanée, tasting some of the most expensive reds on the planet. Meetings with Madame Bize are never relaxing. She combines hauteur with the ability to freeze a glass of Pinot Noir at 10 paces. People who have earned her displeasure are never granted access to her presence again.
We were 15 wines into the tasting when we got to the Corton Renardes. In my view, it was so badly reduced as to be unpalatable, at least at that moment. What to do? The great lady had put her nose in the glass and pronounced it “sublime”. If I disagreed, would she have her assistant escort me from the premises? I looked at him and decided, Lady Macbeth-like, to screw my courage to the sticking place.
He survived the encounter without consequence, integrity intact. But not everyone is so fortunate.
So what happens when we encounter a reduced barrel of red Burgundy? Or worse, a vastly overrated bottle of arm-and-a-leg wine? Too many of us have what Germans call “scissors in the head”. That is to say that we censor our thoughts. We temper our criticisms, repeating the received wisdom about wine Y or Z.
This kind of behavior is despicable. But I’m not referring to the tendency of wine writer’s to grovel at the feet of celebrity winemakers. Although that too is objectionable, the reasons for it are obvious—an honest review might cost a journalist access which is essential for them to do their jobs. It’s easy to see why they might pull their punches.
What makes such groveling prudent is the imperious attitude of someone like Madame Bize, who in this case seems to have kept her arrogance under wraps. I have never met the woman and cannot afford her wines but I know the type. They are rather ubiquitous and often admired for their uncompromising severity—not suffering fools gladly is usually given as their justification.
But if you’re in the habit of denying access to people who give honest opinions, you are not displaying your commitment to high standards. To the contrary you show yourself to be weak and insecure.
The upper echelons of the wine world profess to be dedicated to quality and claim that merit should be the only criteria for judging their products. But if someone is admirable for what they can do, then it must be the case that they can sometimes fail. If failure is ruled out then what they are attempting to do is not difficult enough to be worthy of admiration. Winemaking is difficult and failure is a constant threat. Humility would seem to be warranted.
It’s fine to point out the cowardice of writers who pull their punches. But the real cowards are the poseurs who use their reputation to avoid criticism.
Exploring the Philosophy of Food and Wine 