The Ethics of Sampling

One evening earlier this week, I Twittered about as much as I ever have in a single session: three or four times in fairly rapid succession, my regular pattern being more along the lines of three messages per week. What drew me into such garrulousness was an ongoing discussion of blogging ethics. The finer point in question was whether or not a wine blogger (or any person in the wine writing trade, I suppose) who accepts press samples is obliged to publish a review of every wine received. At least one person thought yes, others thought no, and I found myself siding with the latter camp.

I’ve never gotten around to publishing a “policies” page here at MFWT, so let me clear up any questions you may have. I do accept samples for review. I also promise to taste everything sent my way with as open and critical a mind as possible. And I’m happy to provide feedback, as Lenn suggested, in the form of a raw tasting note to anyone who sends me a sample. I can’t promise I’ll get to every bottle immediately, so if you’re looking for instant review gratification, I may not be your man. But again, I do promise to get to each and every bottle in due course. When I do blog about a wine I’ve received as a sample, I’ll always state that it was a sample and let you know who sent it my way.

In any case, and more importantly, I’ll blog about the wine only if I find something compelling to say about it, only if its context and quality – good or bad – move me enough to make me want to write about and share my experience. It’s as simple as that.

Or is it?

What happens when a sample comes from someone you know, even from someone you consider a friend? In such cases, I think there’s a natural human reflex to soften one’s step, to be kinder, gentler or – in a negative scenario – silent.

I also think it’s important, no matter how difficult, not to let those reflexes sway you.

I found myself in just such a situation recently when Terence Hughes, the man behind Mondosapore and co-proprietor of Domenico Selections, sent me a box full of wines for review. It’s not as if Terry and I are best buddies or lifelong chums. I’ve only actually met the guy once…. But between that, the occasional email correspondence and following each others blogs for the last couple of years, I have come to count him as a friend.

As I’ve already written up one of the wines he sent me, it should be obvious that I've already worked my way through this ethical pickle. And I’d like to think I reviewed the wine just as honestly and bluntly as I would one I’d purchased or one I’d received from a more anonymous sample sender. I don’t think Mr. Hughes would have wanted it any other way.

With one of the other wines he sent, though, I found myself holding back, writing less quickly than I might have otherwise. That may have been influenced by the fact that Terry smartly sent two bottles of each wine. I knew I’d be able to give the wine another look, get to know it better before putting pen to paper, fingers to keys and posting to the blogosphere.

Does that make me hypocritical or unethical? That’s for you to decide, I suppose, though I’d like to think it just means I’m careful and considered in my work here at MFWT.

Or do you think this is all just a long winded prelude to and softener of a harsh review? For answer to that question you’ll have to wait until tomorrow, as I do think it would be unfair to bury a review – good or bad – at the end of this pseudo-dialectic discourse.

Intro only...

My Approach to Wine Naming Conventions

While reading Alder Yarrow’s recent post on Croatian wines at Vinography the other day, I had a bit of an “ah-hah!” moment. It had nothing to do with the part about Croatian wine. Rather, it was in response to his (re)iteration of the standardized format he uses when writing wine names. Though his logic doesn’t match mine, his post made me realize that I’d never explained my own standardization protocol and told you why I do it the way I do.

Here’s my format:

Place of origin (including cuvée and/or vineyard name and/or grape variety, as applicable) – Estate/Producer – Vintage

It’s a style that lends itself most readily to the widespread practice in Europe of naming a wine after its place of origin. For instance, here’s an example of a wine that I wrote up recently: Vouvray “Cuvée de Silex,” Domaine des Aubisières (Bernard Fouquet) 2007.

Things can get a bit awkward when applying the same structure to wines from the New World, as a wine that many people might refer to simply as “1999 Caymus Special Selection,” for instance, would become: Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon “Special Selection,” Caymus Vineyards 1999. I admit it doesn’t roll off the tongue in quite as easy a fashion. But it works for me.

My profile picture is a shot of a vineyard called "Runcot," a subset of the the Gavarini cru in Monforte d'Alba, one of the districts where Barolo is produced. It's owned and farmed by Elio Grasso and his son, Gianluca. I've yet to write up the details of my visit there in February 2006. And their Barolo "Runcot" from '06 has yet to be released. (Photo appears courtesy of its photographer, Tino Gerbaldo, and the Elio Grasso estate.)
Wine names written in this manner, even though they may appear to include an awful lot of information, really present only three basic elements: place, person and time. This construct is meant to convey, in all cases, three points that I feel very strongly about.

1. Place of origin is – or at least should be, in my view – the single most important factor in determining the overall character of wine.
   
   
2. It’s the person or people making the wine that nurture the wine – from vineyard to cellar – and allow it to express its place of origin as they interpret it. I like to think of the winemaker as a servant to his or her vineyards, as less important than the place but more important than the vintage in determining the overall quality of any given wine.
   
   
3. Vintage is very important in the context of any single wine. All things in parts one and two being consistent, it’s the qualities of a given growing year, and the human decisions based around the vagaries of that year, that make that wine different from year to year. Vintage becomes important to understanding wine, however, only after an understanding of the wine’s place and people have already been formed.

This is obviously a big topic, one that’s open to a wide range of viewpoints. While I could go into much greater detail, I’d rather stop here, encourage questions, feedback, commentary, criticism – even outright bashing – and see where the discussion leads.

Intro only...

MFWT Goes Korean

Nope, I don't mean Korean food (though I am overdue for a trip up to Philly's N. 5th Street). What I do mean is that I've hit the Korean blogosphere in a big way, at least for today.

My readership is usually about 80% US-based, with the other 20% peppering in from around the globe. Today, and today only I expect, MFWT's traffic is about 90% Korean.
Like most bloggers, I use a tool called Sitemeter (there are lots of others like it) that allows me to get a general sense of how many visitors my site receives, what part of the globe they're coming from, how long they're hanging around... you get the picture. It's not terribly useful information unless you're trying to pitch your site to advertisers. But it can be a nice boost to the ego when you have a "good day." That said, I do my best not to obsess over it too much. And I usually leave Sitemeter statistical analysis and demographic deconstruction to guys like Terence and Marcus.

However, when I did a quick check of my stats earlier this morning, I did a double take. By 7:00 AM I'd already had as many visitors as I normally see in a day. By noon that had increased nearly fourfold. It turns out that a Korea-based food blogger called Charlie, whose site is apparently quite popular, linked to my most recent post about dinner at Talula's Table. Crazy how the Internet spins, not to mention how far the word has spread about Talula's.

Problem is, I can't figure out how to correctly view, much less translate, Charlie's post. All I get is a screen full of question marks. Any ideas, folks? Are you out there, Charlie?

See those seven question marks in the box at the bottom of the screenshot? That's the link to my post.

Intro only...