Wine is best served by discussion, not ratings

I was standing in the aisle at my favorite wine shop during a big sale recently when a customer walked up to a clerk and asked, “What’s the highest Wine Spectator-rated wine you have here today?”

Minutes later, when I heard another customer ask a similar question, I followed him to the California Chardonnay that both clerks had identified as the Wine Spectator’s high scorer. I arrived just in time to hear the customer tell his wife, “But I don’t like California Chardonnay” -- at which point he put four bottles of it in his shopping cart.

I’ve seen and heard about too many people like this in recent years. In fact, I heard about another over lunch with Allison Junker, the sommelier at Jer-ne restaurant in the Ritz-Carlton, Marina del Rey, just weeks after eavesdropping on Mr. “I Don’t Like Chardonnay.” She told me that when she worked in a Bordeaux restaurant, an American came in and, without looking at the list, said, “I want a 98-point Parker wine tonight.”

Neither he nor Mr. “I Don’t Like Chardonnay” seemed to care if the wine they bought was red or white, Cabernet or Riesling, light or heavy, French or Italian, or Chilean or Martian. As near as I could tell, it didn’t even matter what they were going to eat with the wine.

No, all they cared about was buying a wine with a big score.

People buy wine this way all the time, even if they may not enjoy the bottle they wind up with. They do it because they have no confidence in their own judgment. Or because it makes them feel smart. Or to impress friends.

What kind of way is that to shop -- or to drink? I look at Robert Parker and Wine Spectator -- among others -- but I can’t imagine buying a wine solely because a critic gives it a high rating. And I can’t conceive of saying, “I want a 98-point wine” -- or of asking a salesman what’s the highest-rated wine he has.

In a good wine shop, I might say, “I really like Barolo and Burgundy; what do you think are the best ones you have here today?” Or: “What’s the best buy for the money in your sale today?” Or, as I did recently: “My wife is making a scallop dish with fennel, olive oil and lemon juice tonight; what do you suggest we drink with it?”

In a restaurant, I’ll ask which wines -- within my price range -- would go best with the food I’m ordering. Or I might ask, “Is there something on your list that’s really unusual that you like a lot and think I should try?”

I can think of a dozen other questions that customers, based on their experience and preference, could and should ask in a wine store or a restaurant to take advantage of a salesman’s or sommelier’s knowledge. But buying just by the numbers has become all too common.

Sure, Parker and the Spectator and Steve Tanzer taste far more wines than you or I do. And -- as with any critics, whether they evaluate movies, music, books or wine -- if you read and follow their recommendations often enough, you’ll develop a sense of when, and how often, their taste and yours coincide.

But don’t use wine critics’ numbers exclusively. Yes, I know. Many restaurants don’t have servers who are knowledgeable about wine. And some stores only recommend wines they can make the most profit on -- or wines they ordered too much of and must sell to recoup their investment. The venality of merchants is one reason for the success of the wine critics -- Parker in particular.

Many wine stores and restaurants are staffed by people with experience, knowledge and integrity, though. Talk with them about price, about specific wines and styles of wines that you’ve liked or disliked; tell them when, where, with what and with whom you’ll be drinking the wine. You can’t have this kind of conversation with a critic -- not in the store, not in a restaurant and not on your schedule.

Top critics would tell you the same thing. They’d encourage you to read their commentary, not just their scores, and they’d urge you to trust your own judgment, to learn by experience and -- yes -- by mistakes. In wine, as in so many other matters, errors and misjudgments are often our best teachers.

In fact, in bold type, on the front page of every issue of Parker’s bimonthly Wine Advocate newsletter, are the words, “there can never be any substitute for your own palate, nor any better education than tasting the wine yourself.”

So, by all means, read the critics if you want. But remember: You drink wines, not scores.

David Shaw can be reached at david.shaw@latimes.com.