What compels the average consumer to pull a bottle of wine off the shelf at a grocery store or select a bottle from a wine list at a restaurant?
Without a wine steward or sommelier to assist in the selection, it all comes down to basic marketing. And the trend of today is the new and improved acronym of yesterday, the KISS principle, or “keep it simple, stupid.”
The twist is, that with all this simplicity, there has arisen an almost primal necessity to associate wine with all of nature’s little creatures. The correlation between slimy amphibians and serious wine still eludes me, but when perusing the wine aisle at the neighborhood grocery I just may feel like Dorothy and start chanting, “Lizards and toads and frogs … oh my!” Alert the marketing department, we have a new wave of wines to hit the shelves, “Wines of Oz,” with our first release being “Munchkin Merlot.”
The following are reviews of a few wines that I’ve tried lately that fit into the, “Hey, it’s great marketing” portfolio of affordable, everyday wines:
Fat Bastard 2002 chardonnay, $10. I’ve already explained the story behind the name, now let’s see if the wine is worth drinking. This is another example of the “fat guy” coming through again. It’s 100 percent chardonnay and a truly delightful wine, a pale golden color with a hint of green. Elegant and powerful on the nose with a touch of vanilla, hazelnut and toast. It’s a fun wine that’s round on the palate (which is another reference to its name) with whiffs of white flowers. You might want to rethink if the brother-in-law is worthy. Leaping Lizard 2002 chardonnay, $10. Now here is marketing at the fulcrum o’ fun. Are there really leaping lizards anywhere near the vineyards? Or did a lizard leap into the vat of wine during fermentation? Boy, I hope not. Besides all that, this is a delicious example of a new wave of California chardonnay that displays deep varietal characteristics and a rich, full, creamy texture and the trademark California fruit without having to pull wood chips from your teeth after every sip.
The Little Penguin 2002 shiraz, $7. Oh, the wee little penguin wants to waddle on to your dinner table. Should you let it, or not? Well it’s hard to resist that tux, and besides, it’s a jamfest of an Aussie that’ll sure please the crowds around the tube watching football (see brother-in-law statement previously discussed).
Cline Cellars Red Truck 2002 red blend, $9. Nature’s little critters and fat bastards are not the only marketing materials available to exploit in an attempt to move the juice. What makes you think rich, full-bodied, complex red wine more than a photo of a ’40s vintage red pickup truck? It’s hard to imagine a more enduring symbol of Americana. This wine is full of red cherries, which may explain the truck’s hue, blueberries and sinful chocolate flavors. I can almost envision sitting on a bale of hay in the back of the ol’ pickup with a pizza and a bottle of Red Truck.
Wrongo Dongo 2003 red wine of Spain, $8. There is a negotiator of Spanish wines by the name of Jorge Ordonez and, let’s just say he can be a bit ornery. He has a habit of letting folks know that they may be mistaken with an abrupt and many times startling statement: “WRONGO DONGO!” A winery with which Ordonez has done a fair amount of business decided to pay tribute to him and his eccentricities with a bold and provocative wine. This 10 percent monastrell (or mourvedre) is from extremely old vines that yield intense flavors of black fruits, plum and spice. I remember saying, when first trying this wine, that it is a screaming good deal and that anyone who purchases this wine definitely can’t go “wrongo dongo.”
Six Prong 2001 red table wine, $13. Since the Napa Valley Stag’s Leap wines have shot through the roof, and are thereby not eligible for the everyday wine category, I thought this little beauty might suffice. After all, it shouldn’t only be lizards that are leaping for great wine values. This wine was a big surprise when I first tried it because I didn’t expect its overall decadence. I know Charlie Hoppes is a huge talent and phenomenal winemaker, but he snuck this massive, juicy and racy wine right under my radar. Spicy blackberry and a devilish smokiness echoes a wine requiring deeper pockets. Impressive.
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It all seems a bit silly and contrite, but it works. If a dog lover passes by a wine label with an adorable pooch flashing those sad eyes that say, “Take me home, I’m house-trained,” what possible options are there? Imagine that same cute, cuddly puppy only having three legs.
Now if that doesn’t encourage heartfelt patronage, then off to the pound for you for a refresher course on animal empathy. I’m not kidding, there really is a wine called Three-legged Red, complete with a photo of the world’s most precious tripod.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone make the declaration that they mostly buy wine because of the label. This has not gone unnoticed by the brilliant minds behind wines such as Fat Bastard. This wine from France (the name is actually a combination of British slang and French geography) has done incredibly well in the ever-booming, “Gotta get a last minute gift for the brother-in-law” category of wine purchasing.
As with most of the new genre of wine names, there is a story behind them that, when told, either adds to the endearment or fizzles the fantasy. The English refer to wines that are rich and full-bodied as “fat,” and chardonnay made from a specific vineyard in Burgundy by the name of “Batard-Montrachet” is the style that he winemakers were attempting to emulate, hence, Fat Bastard.
Now, are those terms for endearment or a diluted barb? I think we can throw that into the “who cares” bin, because, after all, it’s just the brother-in-law.
In keeping with that train of thought (a derailment may be pending), what’s up with the new wine from Australia called Little Penguin? I was really hoping for some quasi association to a Batman villain, or an otherwise unknown Australian vineyard connection but, alas, it is but a mere little bird that is really cute, lives on icebergs, can’t fly, but can waddle with the best of them, and now sells wine.
There is a common denominator to most of these wines that use creative tugs at our emotions to move their products, and that is the price point. They tend to be of the affordable ilk that prompts the desired response, “It’s such a cute (funny, thought-provoking, scary, ridiculous) label and it’s not that much money so…”
This got me thinking that I ought to go out and try some of these newfangled byproducts of marketing genius because, after all, it doesn’t cost that much to find out what a Little Penguin, Three-legged Red, Leaping Lizard or Fat Bastard tastes like … or does it?
Jeff Wicklund, wine consultant and writer, is the proprietor of Colby Hospitality in Everett. He can be reached at 425-317-9858, or wick@colbyhospitality.com.
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