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Frustration of the Oenophile – Choosing Wine
First-world problems, I know. Nevertheless, let’s talk about them.
I guess we, oenophiles, are tender creatures. Doesn’t take much to get us frustrated. Wine not tasting the way we expect; not enjoying critic’s choice 100-points wine; close friends not sharing your excitement about the wine in the glass. We can go on and on about these little insignificant things, each one a source of the full-blown frustration. Oenophile’s frustration looks different every day. And mine right now might be the biggest one of all (remember – taste is subjective, so are the feelings) – inability to choose the wine.
Assuming I will be able to finish this post today, tomorrow we are celebrating Valentine’s Day – and what says “I love you” better than a luscious, voluptuous, sexy, and seductive bottle of wine? Forget flowers, flowers don’t stand a chance against such a bottle of wine. But what wine will be luscious, voluptuous, sexy, and seductive? The need to choose that wine properly becomes the cause of the ultimate frustration. But that’s not all, because merely in a week we have to deal with OTBN – Open That Bottle Night – and this is the ultimate “oenophile frustration” cause, as now we need to decide what bottle we kept not opening waiting for a special moment which might either never arrive or already be in the past?
Decisions, decisions, decisions. Trying to select the right bottle of wine for the occasion, you have only a few minutes to agree with yourself on the proper bottle. If you will not arrive at the decision within those few minutes, the next 2, 3, 4 days will be miserable. You are going to pull a bottle, look at it, think about it for a moment, sigh, and put it back. Then repeat the process over and over again, pretty much until you force yourself to feel that you got the right bottle. Possibly to change your mind again in a few hours, or even 20 minutes before the bottle needs to be opened. If you are an oenophile, and you are not going through this pitiful “decision paralysis”, I envy you and congratulate you. And for the rest of us – I share your pain.
So what wine should you select for Valentine’s Day? I already told you – it should be luscious, voluptuous, sexy, and seductive – or not. Of course, there is a big dependency on the food, but don’t try to achieve a perfect match – it’s okay to enjoy your food and wine independently. I have to say that I’m not a big fan of still Rosé wines for Valentine’s Day – yes, it matches the pink color of all the all V-day paraphernalia – but it might not deliver the pleasure you are looking for. I also would suggest avoiding “thought-provoking” wines – rare grapes, natural wines, skin-contact wines, wines from the forgotten corners of the Earth. On a normal day, I’m the first one to ask for an obscure wine, but for Valentine’s Day, wine should give you pleasure, elevate your mood, it should be easy to understand. If upon the first sip you will not say “ahh, this is good”, you’ve chosen the wrong wine – put the cork back and go fetch another bottle.
I love to have bubbles for Valentine’s Day – of course, nothing can beat the classic Champagne (and it perfectly can be pink), but you can’t go wrong with Cremants, Franciacorta, Trento DOC, Cava, and all other méthode champenoise wines. If you like white wines, Chardonnay is your best choice of white V-day wine, pretty much from anywhere in the world, as long as it is not a lifeless purposefully unoaked rendition.
And then, of course, the red. Ideally, the red should have an age on it, to truly deliver all that pleasure upon a first sip. Amarone, Brunello (I would avoid Barolo unless you perfectly know what you are doing), Cabernet Sauvignon and Bordeaux/Cabernet blends, Super-Tuscans, Spanish Grenache, Rioja from a good producer, Syrah and Zinfandel. I’m not trying to make other wines feel bad, but for Valentine’s Day, this is what I would pick from.
Here is actually what I picked – Champagne and Syrah from California – and I will tell you all about it later on.
If you thought selecting wine for Valentine’s Day was frustrating, it is nothing in comparison with selecting the wine for OTBN.
OTBN (Open That Bottle Night) was invented in 1999 by Dorothy J. Gaiter and John Brecher, writers behind the Wall Street Journal’s wine column at that time. The purpose of the OTBN, which is always celebrated on the last Saturday in February, is to encourage wine lovers around the world to open that special, stashed far away bottle. We all have those bottles that can be categorized as “not today”. These wines typically exist in single quantities in our cellars and always have a memory attached to them.
This is what makes the selection process very difficult – to open or not to open? I have only one such bottle. What if I open it too early – I will never know how amazing it could become over the next 10 years? Once I open that bottle which was gifted by a dear friend, brought back from the amazing trip, acquired in the moment splurge, will my memories be lost forever? Should I just hold on to that bottle instead? Will I open this wine in the right company? Will people truly appreciate the sacrifice I’m making?
Frustrated, frustrated oenophile. It is hard to make wine decisions.
I hope you got my point. And I hope I helped you, at least a tiny bit, to select a proper bottle of wine, at least for Valentine’s Day. And please don’t ignore the OTBN – the right time to open a special bottle of wine is now – you never know, tomorrow the wine might be gone, or you might be gone. Truly, live in the wine moment – at least on the last Saturday in February.
Do you have frustrated oenophile moments of your own? Please share! And I wish you a happy, quick, and not-frustrating-at-all wine selection process, for all the special moments to come. Cheers!
Frustration of the Oenophile
We have enough sources of frustration in our lives, so wine shouldn’t be one of them. This statement works fine until you become obsessed with wine. Then it becomes a source of joy, happiness, fun, and, of course, frustration.
The concept of frustration is very personable, there is really nothing objective about it. It is generally a choice – you can decide to get frustrated, or you can choose to ignore whatever bothers you. It is not always that simple, of course.
For example, corked wines are a great source of frustration for oenophiles. A corked bottle bothers me very much, but considering my experience with corked wines is not anywhere near the proverbial 8% (knock on wood), I just accept it as an unfortunate part of the wine world. Plastic corks can be a great source of frustration, and so are the bottles with wax tops when the wax is not done right. We can go on with this list and I’m sure every oenophile can choose what frustrates them the most. Most importantly, we feel frustrated with different things on different days.
What prompted this post was frustration with my own choices. And Cayuse wines.
Many years back I was closely following wine writer W. Blake Gray, who was writing a wine column at that time, I believe, for the San Fransico Chronicle. In one of the articles, he mentioned Cayuse Vineyards wines as possibly the best wines produced in the United States. Talk about influences… These got stuck in my head, and getting my hands on the wines of Cayuse became one of my obsessions. I signed up for the mailing list and stayed on the waiting list for close to 10 years until I finally got on.
Cayuse wines are produced by Christophe Baron, a French-born winemaker who fell in love with the rocky soils of Walla Walla Valley. While Cayuse was his original project which brought fame and recognition, Christophe Baron also started a number of other successful projects – No Girls, Horsepower Vineyards, Hors Catégorie Vineyard, and Champagne Christophe Baron (with this he really went back to his roots as he was born in Champagne). While waiting for Cayuse, I actually managed to get on all other mailing lists – but let’s leave those wines aside for a moment and get back to Cayuse.
I’m sure you are curious to see where the aforementioned frustration is coming from – and let me tell you, it is not related to the long wait. My frustration is tied to the wine itself. How? Easy. I don’t enjoy it.
Here, I said it.
Okay, let’s not generalize. I actually enjoyed very much a 9-year-old wine from Cayuse – 2011 Syrah from En Cerise Vineyard in Walla Walla Valley which I had on Thanksgiving in 2020. I liked the wine so much that it became wine #2 on the Top Wines list of 2020. But this happened once. And a few Cayuse bottles that I opened made me question my choices – and became the source of frustration.
The latest case in point – 2017 Cayuse God Only Knows Armada Vineyard Walla Walla Valley (13.8% ABV). This is 100% Grenache. The wine had somewhat of a muted nose, mostly mineral. At first, the palate had a lot of “liquid rock” power – iodine, pencil shavings, granite, maybe cherry pits. I thought that maybe the wine was too young at 6 years of age, pumped the air out, and let it stand until the next day. The next day didn’t improve the situation much. On the third day, the wine simply became bitter.
When I’m supposedly drinking one of the best wines produced in the US, and I derive no pleasure from it, it becomes concerning. It becomes frustrating. What is wrong with me? How come I can’t appreciate this wine? If I look a the reviews, frustration only deepens. Jeb Dunnuck gave this wine 99 points in 2020, and described it as having a “gorgeous nose of framboise, wild strawberries, sweet mulch, sappy flowers, ground pepper, and liquid violets” – how come I don’t get any of this? Do I have to be a professional wine critic to be able to enjoy the wine? By the way, the continuation of the same review made me say WTF: “This carries to a medium to full-bodied, Burgundian Grenache” – Burgundian Grenache? But Grenache is not produced in Burgundy? Yeah, whatever. The same review also suggests the drinking window between 2021 and 2033, so I’m perfectly in the range. And yet I didn’t enjoy the wine.
I love Grenache wines. Admittedly, many of my great Grenache experiences are connected to Spain, where it is known as Garnacha – how about some Alto Moncayo, for example. I very much enjoy Grenache from France – CdP, Gigondas, other places. Also, California is perfectly capable of producing the most delicious Grenache – we don’t even need to go to the Rhone Rangers – Bokisch and McCay in Lodi do a damn good job representing delicious Grenache. And yet I don’t enjoy what should be one of the best renditions of Grenache in the world. Frustrating.
Cayuse will not be the first “serious” wine I’m unable to enjoy (serious = expensive here, this bottle costs north of $130). Opus One, Joseph Phelps, Corison, Chateau Montelena, many of the Heitz bottlings, Far Niente… There are a number of wines out there I do not seek. But I was really dreaming about getting my hands on Cyuse bottles. This wine was an object of desire and now… this?
I believe Bionic Frog was the wine that made Cayuse famous. Bionic Frog (made from Syrah) is still not a part of my allocation, so I will try to stay the course for now. I will give more chances to Cayuse wines to prove that my latest experience was just a fluke, but I’m afraid I have to leave Cayuse wines aside at the moment and see if time will be able to bring out the pleasure.
Yes, I realize full well that my frustration is the first world problem – and if you have a problem with that, feel free…
For now, I will remain oenophile frustrated.








