Sharon Bowman
Sharon Bowman
It is with some blear in my eyes that I type this this AM. As I sat on the subway to come to work, I reflected on something that had caught my eye as I was making coffee: the back label of an empty bottle of Tissot Savagnin, of the latest release. And that the stated alcohol was 14%.
I had been aware of the 13.5% price tag on an Hauvette white (odd bird of a wine, by the bye), and an even heftier one on a Rhône quaff, the evening before.
But suddenly I thought: these are the thin, hipster-elite bottlings and winemakers decried up and down the engine-fuel-swilling internets and beyond; why are they leaving me knocked out?
And then I thought about the "new" California wines I have been enjoying lately. Your 11.5% zinfandels and the like. Syrahs that barely break 13%.
And I mused on how the wine world seems to have the spins.
I had been aware of the 13.5% price tag on an Hauvette white (odd bird of a wine, by the bye), and an even heftier one on a Rhône quaff, the evening before.
But suddenly I thought: these are the thin, hipster-elite bottlings and winemakers decried up and down the engine-fuel-swilling internets and beyond; why are they leaving me knocked out?
And then I thought about the "new" California wines I have been enjoying lately. Your 11.5% zinfandels and the like. Syrahs that barely break 13%.
And I mused on how the wine world seems to have the spins.