Wine Critics are Parasites, But That Doesn’t Mean We Can Be Bought
Thursday, April 24th, 2008
One of the world’s leading wine critics has just proclaimed that wine writers, journalists, and critics are all parasites. According to Decanter magazine, while being paid to hang out in a plush cliffside hotel in Ronda, Spain, Jancis Robinson took a moment out from tasting some of the world’s best wines to admonish her fellow journalists, “We must always remember that we are parasites on the business of winemaking.”
From Websters:
Parasite ˈper-ə-ˌsīt, ˈpa-rə- . Noun.
1 : a person who exploits the hospitality of the rich and earns welcome by flattery
2 : an organism living in, with, or on another organism in parasitism (in which one benefits at the expense of the other, without killing it)
3 : something that resembles a biological parasite in dependence on something else for existence or support without making a useful or adequate return
Is she right? Pretty much.
Every wine critic or journalist has their own particular set of ethics, but most enjoy at least some fruits of their power (however limited in scope or narrow in focus) as commentators on a luxury industry. Whether that means keeping wine samples for their personal cellars, going on press junkets to wine regions, getting taken out to lunch by winemakers, or simply access to places and products that ordinary people would have to pay for.
But just because we’re parasites, that doesn’t mean that we can be bought! You can give us $1000 bottles of wine to taste, but you can′t give us Cartier watches. That’s just too much, apparently. Even parasites have some sort of scruples.
All sarcasm aside, I′ve personally found negotiating my relationship with “the industry” tricky, to say the least. In figuring out what my own personal ethics are as a journalist, I’ve had to deal with a number of realities that all wine journalists must face:
1. Writing about wine doesn’t pay worth a damn, which makes the free meals, free wine, and special treatment easy to imagine as “payment in kind” for our work.
2. Because we wine writers are generally poor, we can’t afford to go out and buy all the wines we want to taste, nor can we always afford to pay our way at tastings, trips, conferences and the like — the very things that provide the experience and knowledge we need to write better stuff.
3. We are the main vehicle that all but the largest wineries have for marketing themselves to a broad audience. Most wineries have little or no marketing budget, so all their exposure is usually through the press and word of mouth. Which means they want to treat us really well.
4. No matter what level of objectivity we seek to achieve, there’s no way of avoiding personal relationships with folks in the industry. It doesn’t help that many of them are nice, rich, super generous, and completely awesome to hang out with, not to mention the fact that they are pretty big fans of the thing that we are most passionate about.
So it’s no surprise, really, that wine magnate Bernard Magrez sent journalists home from lunch at (Michelin three star) Alain Ducasse in Paris with a goody bag that included a limited edition, engraved Cartier watch. I guess it is somewhat surprising, though, that after letting him pay for lunch, and doubtless a few bottles of amazing wine, those same journalists would be outraged at the gift.
If you’re gonna be a parasite, what’s the difference between a free meal and a free watch? I′ll bet the lunch cost more than 30% the value of the 1500 Euro watch that is causing such a commotion.
Photo by andrésmh.
Original post by Italian Wine Guy®
We had to be in Alba at noon. Leaving the fluffy witness protection program of L’Albereta would be difficult, but not impossible.
Guido is a force of nature. Guido does not know the meaning of “I can’t”. Guido is irrepressible. Guido is turning 40 this year.
The winery is named after a chapel which was built to thank the Heavens for saving the area from the Plague. The chapel gives its name to the winery, L’Illuminata. Good thing it is still consecrated, or Guido might be thinking of installing a chef and a kitchen and looking for a nearby property (which there is) to locate a little country hotel.
Yes, Guido is his own power source; his energy is the hybrid-model of the new Italian entrepreneur. While much of Italy is struggling with their economic and personal funk, Guido is unphased. It doesn’t hurt that his father and his uncles sold their major brand, Ruffino, several years ago, for an ample supply of capital. Future projects were dreamt up and Guido set about collecting what he calls his killer B’s of the Italian wine world. Those are Barolo, Brunello and Bolgheri. One wife, four kids and three mistresses (those would be his killer B wine estates); this is Guido’s orbit. God knows what he is doing when the rest of us are sleeping. I am sure he sleeps four hours a day, maximum. Whether it is saving a homeless winery dog or choosing the right stone floor, planning a new vineyard or plotting the future of his triangulated empire, this is a man with a mission. And a time crunch. How does this come across?
Like Jazz standards interpreted endlessly by masters and amateurs alike, grapes find infinite expression in the hands of winemakers around the world. These interpretations, filtered through the lens of a regions climate and geology, are often wildly different from place to place. Syrah from Paso Robles in California, the Barossa Valley in Australia, Cornas in France’s Northern Rhone Valley, and Washington State’s Colombia Gorge are so wildly different you might even question that they were the same grape in a blind tasting.
in one of the more interesting up-and-coming red wine regions of the world, you may want to pay attention.
It was 2:30 in the afternoon and we were just finishing lunch in the hills above Trento. The phone buzzed, it was Giulio. “I’m just leaving Guido’s and heading towards Franciacorta, where are you?” I lied and told him we were on our way.
As luck would have it, with only one turn around, we crept onto the manicured grounds of the hotel. We were to be guests of the Moretti family, who own this little gem. 
Erbusco, between Bergamo and Brescia, and in the heart of Franciacorta, is where the Moretti family also own 
The face of Contadi Castaldi is Mario Falcetti, who has been there almost since day one. Mario is still a young man, but he strikes me as genuine and warm, and very savvy. It appears that the folks at CC have a lot of fun, while managing to be a serious wine producer.
America has been slow to awaken to Franciacorta. I remember 20 years ago struggling to sell Ca’ del Bosco. Then again, 20 years ago it was all more of a struggle than it is now.
Soul is a Saten, similar to a Cremant. This one was from the 2000 vintage, and had just recently been disgorged after 72 months on the yeast. What I noted was an intense wine with a degree of depth normally reserve for still wines. The fruit was almost syrup-like, not cloying, layered. And at the end there was this little kiss of roasted coffee. The last time I remember having that sensation was in a magnum of 1964 Salon, back during the Reagan era. The Salon was one of the more memorable moments of that period of time.
I remember first eating at Gualtiero Marchesi’s namesake restaurant in Milan in 1984. Those were in the heady days of Nouvelle cuisine and Marchesi was leading the attack from Italy. We’re way out of trattoria and comfort food when we talk about this stage. This is food as art, carefully orchestrated in the kitchen and on the plate. No complaining here, for this is a way to see natural ingredients elevated in solo performances. Here asparagus is performing an aria, there truffles are counter-pointing with fois gras in a duet.
Performance, drama, luxury and when it is all said and done, a happy and full belly, dancing to some mellow techno-beat sounds in the background.
A few words about this. Someone in Francesca’s shoes could be a wealthy little spoiled kid, bossing around famous chefs and feeding from the trough of the family wealth. But I don’t perceive her in that way. What I see is a very serious young woman who understands the responsibility of success. What do I mean by that? When you have three or four wineries, several Relais & Châteaux, a construction company that is pervasive in Italy and unlimited possibilities for the future and you see yourself as a servant-leader, that speaks volumes about the level of intent and engagement this family has with the land, their employees and ultimately their destiny. This is a historical period for Italian wines and from what I can see the Moretti family understands the historical context and their duty to be curators of that pageant of accomplishment.
Risotto with gold leaf. It wasn’t the first time I had enjoyed this from the kitchen of Gualtiero Marchesi. It might not be the last. It was like a little gold bow that wrapped that last 24 years up in a circle of the continuum of the wine carousel. Maybe it was the wine god’s way to wrap up the last generation (and me with it) and maybe it was just a nice plate of risotto with a lovely glass of Franciacorta.
As I headed back up to my room with a bed that more than fit (and a bathroom that I could have put all of my Vinitaly room into) and a window with a view, the bell tower struck midnight. I would have eight hours to turn back into myself, before heading towards Piedmont. There waiting, were all the young lions, ready to devour us, or conscript us, into their pride of Nebbiolo.
