originally posted by mlawton:
You are absolutely correct, those wines are from the same country and all from within 45 miles of each other - they should all taste the same!
You've finally chapped my ass enough that I'll dignify you with a non-flippant response.
Let's start with your first little talking point-that we pick a "best" wine. We don't. We rank wines based on personal subjective impression, 1 through 8, and add up the scores from the table. Lowest wine technically "wins", I guess, but the point of the exercise is to stimulate discussion after everyone has voted. As NOTED IN THAT THREAD (which you didn't read, of course), there's a ton of noise in the results so the fun of the evening lies in the debates. John Morris rated my favorite wine 8th. We both enjoy wine and would self-identify as having similar palates. The fun of that group is when differences crop up and understanding why.
Second, let's talk about terroir and regional differences. I get that we're all wine geeks and can make cogent arguments as to why Cornas is totally fucking different from St. Joseph and ohmygodyoucantevendrinkthemtogether. I'm with you, man, I'm a wine geek too. But take a step back for a second. These are, in fact, all Northern Rhone, all Syrah, all 2010. Yes, wine geography is fractal, and you can do a full 8 wine tasting out of some plots that are only several ACRES large. But it's preposterous to argue that these wines can't be tasted side by side. This is not drinking Amarone next to Trousseau.
But more to the point, the reason I enjoy these tastings is because they are rigorously blind (no discussion allowed until after notes are written and votes made) you get a sense of what is signal and what is noise, so to speak. And I will tell you this; terroir differences, except at the extreme margins, rarely can be picked up in this setting. At our last burg tasting (of mature wines, no less) the sweet, silky, elegant wine that was a consensus #1 was a Nuits; the feminine, floral wine that was consensus #2 was a Gevrey, and so on and so forth. Sometimes terroir gets "picked up" , but it's rare and in case of big differences. Meursault jumped out at our white burg tasting last year. I'm sure if we'd swapped the Graillot Crozes with his Syrocco, we'd have figured out something was up.
In this case, however, as in most of these tastings, presumed differences in terroir were completely absent once the blinders were on. The wine that everyone on the table agreed was the most floral and tropical and fragrant was a St. Joseph. One of the two most structured wines at the table was a Crozes and the most accessible and easy wine at the table - a Crozes. In contrast, differences in producer style DO stick out blind, always have and did again on this night. Everyone pegged the St Cosme, you could see it a mile away. At the white burg tasting, someone took a sip of a bottle and said, "This is Roulot.". It was Roulot.
But most interesting about these tastings is that the outcomes are not quite random, but very close. Young or old, we see very little consistency in terms of which producers win or whether subjective rank correlates to price. In Tuesday's Rhone tasting, the ultimate group consensus ranking was virtually inverse to price. At 2006 Nebbiolo, the produttori was hugely popular - the lowest score I ever saw from this group, and it was the cheapest wine at the table. Star producers rarely rise to the top of the rankings, albeit in a carefully curated group of wines (my take home message from these tastings is not that producer doesn't matter, but that the difference between the competent and the "star" is mostly marketing).
I don't do all my tasting blind - but once a month, this is an incredibly valuable, humbling, and enjoyable experience. It certainly makes you question the fanboyism you see on this and other boards, where curiously every bottle made by certain producers is either brilliant or corked. I know this now, from these silly blind tastings that give you such mirth: the people who post those notes are either full of shit or rooting for the laundry, and it is curious indeed to bring sports fan psychology to wine.