Red, red whine
WINE snobbery can be a funny and foolish pose. The affectations of wine critics' prose, with their evocations of plummy jam and cigar-scented finish, are silly enough to alienate anyone who appreciates clear writing. Equally preposterous, however, is the attitude of the radical debunker who insists there is no difference between a lovingly cellared 1978 Chambertin and the latest shipment of "Three-Buck Chuck" at Trader Joe's.
The enmity between connoisseurs and casual imbibers has reignited because of two recent experiments: one suggesting that high-priced wines are no better than plonk, the other showing that wine drinkers are easily brainwashed to believe a higher price means more quality.
A recent book entitled "The Wine Trials" describes a blind tasting in which 500 volunteers sampled 540 wines priced from $1.50 to $150. A scoring system based on just four grades produced higher overall ratings for many cheap wines than for pricier ones. But when seasoned oenophiles were culled from the larger herd of tasters, they predictably gave higher ratings to the more expensive bottles, highlighting a crucial flaw in the exercise: People without a certain amount of experience tasting wines are unlikely to have developed a scale of sensory values for the taste and smell of good wine.
In another experiment, researchers from Stanford and Caltech simply lied about the price of a $5 bottle and a $90 one. The drinkers liked the $5 wine more when they thought it cost $45, and they liked the $90 wine less when believing it sold for $10.
These exercises in demystification may say something about the gullibility of American consumers. And if they help subvert the hyperbole of wine writing, that is to be cheered. But no laboratory experiment can devalue the pleasure of drinking a properly aged Musigny in the company of friends. 