Last Night's Tipple

I rarely order wine in restaurants, particularly wines by the glass. Part of my reluctance is due to a hesitation even to trifle with drinking and driving, part because it's impossible to know how long the bottle that produces the wine by the glass has been open and the conditions under which it has been stored, and part because drinking wine in restaurants is usually a really bad value. But last night, I figured, hey, it's Christmas Eve, I'm not paying for dinner, and I'm not driving home. So why not? I ordered a glass of Coltibuono Cancelli, an IGT (Indicazione Geografica Tipica -- similar to France's Vin de Pays wines in that the geographical restrictions are usually not very constraining and there aren't many restrictions at all about the grape varieties or winemaking techniques that can be used) wine from Tuscany containing 70% Sangiovese and 30% Syrah. Badia a Coltibuono is prominent Tuscan winemaker specializing in Chianti, with a thousand-year history. Wines made exclusively from estate-grown grapes bear the Badia a Coltibuono label, while wines that include at least some purchased grapes, like the Cancelli I had, have the Coltibuono label. It was a pleasant wine -- bright, acidic, and possessing that pleasant leathery smell that Italian Sangiovese-based wines always have and American Sangiovese-based wines never do. I enjoyed it, and I would buy a bottle if I saw it in stores.

But here's the shocking part. The glass cost $9.50. The entire bottle can be had at retail for $10. In other words, given that the restaurant probably paid a wholesale price for the wine, they made a profit on the first glass of wine they sold from the bottle. I know that maintaining stock in wine is expensive for restaurants, and I know that selling wines by the glass results in a lot of wastage when the remains of bottles have to be poured down the drain because they've been open too long. But come on. People think that it's outrageous when clothing merchants keystone their merchandise (ie, mark their merchandise up to 100% over wholesale price). What about a restaurant marking their wines up to 600% over wholesale price? I feel like a sucker every time I order wine in a restaurant. For all I know, restaurants generate more of a profit this way than they would with a reasonable pricing structure, but I can tell you that a reasonable pricing structure would lead me to order wine in a restaurant more than once a year.

Last Night's Tipple

As I mentioned in yesterday's post about Chariot Wines' 2004 Central Coast Sangiovese, Chariot's stated goal is to "produc[e] refreshing, high-quality food-friendly wines at palatable prices." That's the sort of thing that you hear from a lot of wine producers these days, and I think that it is a worthwhile goal. There remains the perception today amongst a large section of the American drinking public that wine comsumption is pretentious, snooty, and unenjoyable for the vast majority of the population that has not studied wine extensively. Changing this perception is a key to commercial success for those wineries who do not claim to produce the great wines of the world, and it's the reason why Bonny Doon's labels are irreverent and iconoclastic and why Charles Back intentionally pokes fun at French wine naming with his Goats Do Roam series of wines. They're all selling the same concept: drinking wine with dinner is healthy and fun, and enjoyment of wine is not limited to those who can afford and enjoy attending a vertical tasting of Chateau Mouton Rothschild from 1929 to 2004. I wish them luck, although I doubt that the typical American drinker will ever prefer a glass of decent red wine to a Bud Lite.

This particular wine was more enjoyable last night than it was the night before when I first opened it, which is very unusual for me. As I have commented before, wine almost always is worse the second day of being open than it is on the first day. I don't know why that wasn't the case with this one. It had more bright cherry fruit, although I still thought that the acidity was lacking. I want my Sangiovese-based wines to make my mouth pucker, and this one just didn't. Oh, well. I'm glad I tried it.

Last Night's Tipple

Chariot Wines is the creation of Jim Neal, a former chef at Spago in Los Angeles who first entered the world of grape-based products when he came out with his own line of verjus, which is made from the juice of unripe grapes and is used as an alternative to vinegar. He eventually decided that there was money to be made in wine, and he founded Chariot Wines, whose stated mission is to "produc[e] refreshing, high-quality food-friendly wines at palatable prices. " Central Market has been pushing a number of varieties of wines under the Chariot label for the past couple of months; and given the attractive label and the screwcap, it was probably inevitable that I would try one of them eventually. Then they put them on sale, and my fate was sealed. I chose the 2004 Central Coast Sangiovese. Sangiovese is the principal grape in Chianti, a dry, acidic, and brightly food-friendly wine from Tuscany. I like Chianti, so I decided to try this Sangiovese.

It's okay. I wish that it were more concentrated and tart and had more of the ripe cherry flavors that I associate with Sangiovese, but I really can't complain too much about it. It was an enjoyable, competently-made wine. I probably won't buy it again, but I don't feel ripped off by the experience.