Robert Joseph in Meininger’s Wine Business International argues that we need new wine categories since the terms we now use to divide up the wine landscape lack precision.

I have a modest proposal that the term ‘commercial wine’ be removed from the lexicon. I have deep reservations about the imprecise definition of ’fine wine’ but at least these words fit nicely together, whereas ‘commercial wine’ means— what? Wine that’s good enough to be bought and sold. On that basis, La Tache is as much of a commercial wine as Barefoot. Whereas, an un-commercial wine is presumably one that’s piled high in a warehouse waiting in vain for a buyer.

I use the term “commercial wine” often and in no case do I mean “good enough to be bought and sold”. By “commercial wine” I mean large production wines available at the supermarket and in some of the less selective Big Box stores. I think most of my readers know what I mean. But Robert is right that the term is imprecise unless we specify what the contrast term is—”non-commercial” certainly doesn’t mean wines that can’t be sold.

He then speaks favorably of Austin Beeman’s categories:

Beeman’s equivalent of ‘commercial’ is ‘market-driven’ and covers any wine that is specifically tailored to suit the customer.

His second category is “terroir-driven” and the third is “producer-driven”.

These categories are a step in the right direction because they are sensitive to production processes which are important in defining wine styles. But these categories don’t quite work either. Presumably most wineries make wines they think their customers will like. There are degrees of “tailoring”. Artisan winemakers don’t build wines based on the results of market research. But they nevertheless allow consumer expectations to play a role in their winemaking decisions.

As to “terroir-driven” vs “producer-driven”, as Robert points out, there are too many shades of grey and examples that fit both categories for these to be helpful. Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc is surely terroir-driven—no one else makes Sauvignon Blanc that tastes like that. But they are certainly “market-driven crowd-pleasers”, a clear example of what I call “commercial wines” because they are high production and widely available.

Here is my proposal, which is influenced by Burnham and Skilleas The Aesthetics of Wine but with modifications. I say we stick with “fine wine” but avoid using the term to refer to price or exclusivity. By “fine wine” I mean any wine that rewards extended aesthetic attention or is produced with the intention to reward aesthetic attention. By “aesthetic attention” I mean attention focused on the wine (not it’s price, reputation, etc.) and distributed across a wide variety of the wines properties. Aesthetic attention seeks to explore every dimension of a wine.  Some inexpensive, widely available wines reward such attention. Some very expensive wines do not reward such attention.

It seems to me, in the end, this is what matters. Fine wine is interesting wine that we want to explore. If a wine is made with the kind of care required to produce interesting variations and it delivers, then it is fine wine. Commercial wine is wine produced in a way that is indifferent to aesthetic qualities. It may be refreshing, food friendly, or “smooth” but if there is nothing about the wine to explore, it’s not fine wine.

Oliver Styles at Wine Searcher asks “Are rosé wines inherently inferior, or is it a case of outright discrimination?” As Styles points out, putting sparkling rosé aside, there are no 100-point rosés and very few that score between 95 and 100 at the Wine Advocate.

Since the process of making rosé is no different from the process of making white wine there is no reason why rosé can’t be great. So he concludes it must be discrimination.

What I actually think happens is that there is an automatic glass ceiling placed on the score of a rosé the moment a critic sees its colour. It’s 97 or 96 max – “grand max” if we’re adopting the French-isms wine writers love these days.
So the writers and critics now have to do one of two things: either admit they are snobs and attempt to make the claim that rosé can never make good wine; or acknowledge that there may be the semblance of discrimination against rosé that is, at the very least, unjustified, and move to judge rosé with less preconceptions.

Styles is right about discrimination but has identified the wrong culprit. Wine writers don’t take rosé seriously because winemakers don’t take it seriously, and for the very reasons Styles documents:

Furthermore, there is definitely a level of cynicism in rosé production globally. To ignore that would be unfair. Syrah not going to get ripe this year? Turn it into rosé. Merlot starting to show the effects of a damp season? Rosé. Change in sales forecast for Cabernet Sauvignon? Rosé. Pinot Noir cropped too high? Rosé. There are any number rescues for red grapes and they generally involve making a pink wine.

And it’s not just winemakers. The drinking public loves rosé but they don’t take it seriously either.

It’s one of – if not the – largest growing wine category in the US, and I suspect that is purely because wine lovers have not taken any notice of it. There are rare exceptions – Elizabeth Gabay MW has published a book on rosé, I’m told – but it’s a drink one doesn’t need to “get” wine in order to enjoy. No-one is going to sneer at you – much less revere you – for drinking rosé at a party. No-one who knows wine, or even knows a little bit about wine, is going to give you grief.

Right. It’s an easy drinking wine you don’t have to think much about, because there is not much there to think about. That is not a prescription for a great wine. Great wines are great precisely because they repay study. I seldom review rosés and I drink them only occasionally because most are just boring. Refreshing? Sure. Great with food? Absolutely? Fun a a party? You bet.  Worth studying? Please.

When was the last time you visited a winery that offered 4 single vineyard cuvees of rosé like Riesling producers do; or several bottlings using different aging vessels like Chardonnay producers. Or multiple blends like Cabernet producers. It doesn’t happen because it’s too easy to make and sell ordinary rosé. It’ a cash cow, not a serious wine.

I don’t doubt there are some fine rosés out there, but you have to hunt for them and drink a lot of ordinary wine to find them.

I’ll start taking them seriously when producers make serious wines.

Bordeaux is still trying to figure out how to sell wine that isn’t from a classed vineyard.

With Millennials and Gen Zedders famously shunning wine, the Conseil Interprofessionnel du Vin de Bordeaux (CIVB) has launched the innovate Hot 50 Bordeaux 2020 Selection as a means to cast off the shackles of dusty mansions and austere châteaux and offer fresh appeal to a new, young audience. As initiatives go, it’s bold for Bordeaux and not without controversy.

The Hot 50 is divided into four shiny categories: fresh and crisp, which covers whites and Crémant de Bordeaux; smooth and fruity – the easy-drinking reds and rosé; rich and complex – the more powerful reds; and ethical – the organic and biodynamic. The latter is a fairly transparent appeal to the woke and socially conscious younger generations.

This will not work. Why would younger drinkers or anyone, for that matter, look to Bordeaux to find wines that fall into generic flavor categories like “smooth and fruity”. The rest of the world already makes those wines and so does the south of France.  This isn’t what Bordeaux is about and it isn’t what they do well. Unless they begin permitting MegaPurple and other additives to modify their wine, they can’t make “smooth and fruity” to compete with bulk wines from warmer regions.

Bordeaux makes distinctive wines. Even their lower priced commercial wines taste like Bordeaux and no other region makes wines with that flavor profile. Of course, it is a flavor profile that can be best summed up as “dirt and acid”, and the preferences of the wine world seem to be shifting away from that style. That is a real dilemma but it can’t be solved by nifty slogans and dumbed down classifications.

They are probably right to get rid of the image of “dusty mansions” and “austere Chateaux”. The idea of old world luxury is not going to sell a 12€ wine to an urban tech worker just out of university. But the real problem, at least for their export markets, is that Bordeaux does not offer good value. The quality can be poor even in the $25 range in the U.S.

Given the decline in demand, competition from other products, and economic recession, all wine regions will be going through some retrenchment. The only way forward is to make better wine, more distinctive wine, at lower prices. And perhaps Bordeaux should be thinking about how to persuade people that good wine doesn’t have to be “smooth and fruity”.