CABERNET SAUVIGNON

Krupp Brothers 2009 Stagecoach Vineyard “Veraison” Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley): $85. I’ve always liked Krupp’s red wines from their Stagecoach Vineyard, which is one of the best in Napa Valley. It sort of straddles a plateau between Atlas Peak and Pritchard Hill, a high-rent district where the grapes get nice and ripe, yet maintain beautiful balance and acidity. This 2009, at the age of nearly six years, is ideal for drinking now, although it has a long road ahead. Dry and softly tannic, with a bite of tartness, its primary fruit blackberry and plum flavors are beginning to pick up secondary notes of dried fruits, herbs, roasted coffee and spices. The alcohol, officially 15.3%, gives the wine a pleasantly warming heat. Score: 92.

Kenefick Ranch 2012 Pickett Road Red (Calistoga): $50. Pickett Road is Kenefick Ranch’s best red wine, although it’s not their most expensive. Always based on some Bordeaux variety other than Cabernet Sauvignon, it seems somehow more generous, complex and interesting than their Chris’s Cuvée Cabernet, although both wines are fine. This 2012 is mainly Petit Verdot, with Cabernet Franc and Merlot and just 8 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. The black currant fruit, which can get intense in Calistoga’s high summer heat, is tempered with notes of violets, blueberries, cherries and sweet olive tapenade, leading to a wonderfully long, ripe, spicy finish. The tannins, as always, are thick and complex, but sweet. This is a delicious wine, with a bit of heat from alcohol (14.9%) and a generous jacket of smoky oak. I can’t imagine anyone not liking it, not even a confirmed Bordeauxphile. I would drink it now, although it’s still very young, because it’s so tantalizing, but if you have a bottle in, say, 2024, please let me know. Score: 93.

Kenefick Ranch 2012 Caitlin’s Select Cabernet Franc (Calistoga): $50. This wine contains some Petit Verdot and Cabernet Sauvignon, which give it a darker profile and more solid tannins than Cabernet Franc alone can provide. But it’s still 85% Cab Franc, and that makes it sensual and sexy—a voluptuous, instantly appealing wine marked mainly by ripe red cherry pie, red currants, red licorice and dusty Asian spices. You’ll find none of the herbal, green pea notes that can accompany (pleasantly) Cabernet Franc, although there is something suggesting the green olives that float on a martini. It’s a soft, round, supple, mellow wine, entirely pleasurable to drink now. Seared sirloin steak or filet mignon will be magnificent: char the outside but let the inside be red and juicy. Score: 92.

Kenefick Ranch 2012 Chris’s Cuvée Cabernet Sauvignon (Calistoga): $65. I’ve always liked, and given high scores to, Kenefick Ranch’s red wines. In general I prefer the Picket Road red, which is a Bordeaux blend without Cabernet Sauvignon, or very little. But Chris’s Cuvée, based mostly on Cabernet Sauvignon, always was a very good and interesting wine. To judge by the 2012, which contains a few drops of Petit Verdot and Malbec, it still is. It’s big wine, rich, opulent and softly tannic; the blackberry jam and black currant fruit approaches—but does not enter into—overripe prune territory. Yes, the alcohol officially clocks in at 15.1%, but I have no problem with that, and neither should you. This is Calistoga we’re talking about, and Kenefick’s winemaker has consistently shown a deft ability to handle fruit from a hot growing region. I would give this wine some time in the cellar, to let the slight bitterness subside, and to allow the oak to integrate as the fruit begins to shed its primary character and enter into bottle-aged territory. Keep it until, say, 2018; not much longer, please. It seems best suited to slightly rustic beef stews, or barbecue. But use your imagination: I tasted it with Thai noodles in a spicy peanut sauce and it was great. Score: 91.

Prime 2012 Cabernet Sauvignon (Coombsville); $68. This is a very proper Napa Valley Cabernet. By that, I mean no disrespect, simply to suggest that, if you like your California Cabernet Sauvignon big and rich in fruit and oak, luxuriously ripe, and slightly sweet, you’ll love this. It’s a big gulp of blackberry jam and blueberry preserves, smeared onto buttered toast, with a sprinkle of cinnamon and brown sugar, and a few flakes of freshly-squeezed black pepper. Doesn’t that sound yummy? This is a yummy wine. It’s quite similar to the 2010, to which I gave 93 points. The winemaker is Ted Henry, from Jarvis, whose estate Cabs—grown not that far from Coombsville—I have long loved; and Ted says he specializes in these cool-climate Cabs from the southern part of the valley. (Take that, Calistoga and St. Helena!) This 100% Cabernet is adorable, in the richly baroque way of Napa Valley, fancy enough for an expensive restaurant meal—say, a great Porterhouse steak, properly grilled, served simply. Is it an ager? Sure. It will last for a decade or longer, but I don’t see the point of holding it. Decant and drink now. Score: 92.

House Family Vineyards 2009 Old Oak Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon (Santa Cruz Mountains): $52. This Cabernet, like the winery’s 2011 Merlot I liked so much, also comes from the estate vineyard, in the hills above Saratoga and Silicon Valley. However, the Cab is now nearly six years old, and has evolved beyond its primary stages. It shows true bottle-aged characteristics, in a most positive way. Everything’s drying out—the blackberries, blueberries and currants, turning earthier, mulchier, more tobaccoey, smoother, more seamless. The oak is now fully integrated, providing a pleasant layer of toast and smoke. The tannins, while mountain-thick and chewy, are softly sweet. The finish is long in black licorice, cinnamon spice and mocha. The complexity of the mouthfeel comes not just from age but from the varietal blend, which included Merlot, Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot. With just 14% alcohol, the wine feels balanced, with no heat, just a pleasing warmth. And it will continue to mature for the next 8-10 years. It’s impossible to imagine this wine coming from Napa Valley, or Paso Robles. Possibly the best analogy is the mountainous eastern ridge of the Alexander Valley. But why make comparisons? It’s a terrific exemplar of Santa Cruz Mountains Bordeaux-style wine, and at this price, a terrific value, especially for a restaurant wine list. But only 133 cases were produced. Score: 94.

CHARDONNAY

Butter

2014 Chardonnay (California); $16. For sixteen bucks, whaddya want? Montrachet? It’s pretty much what you’d expect for a California Chard of this price—and for a wine called Butter. It’s soft and creamy, with orange, vanilla, honey and buttered toast flavors. End of story. Score: 84.

House Family Vineyards 2012 Chardonnay (Santa Cruz Mountains); $45. I give credit to the winery for producing a dry, firm, minerally Chardonnay that’s not a fruit and oak bomb. The wine has golden mango, pineapple, smoky cream and new oak flavors, and a complexity that lets it evolve in the glass. It feels a bit angular in the mouth, and the sur lie yeastiness sticks out. But it possesses a savory elegance. May benefit from time in the bottle to settle down. Try early in 2016. Score: 90.

Jarvis 2013 Estate Grown Cave Fermented Chardonnay (Napa Valley); $TK. I don’t know the retail price on this wine: they didn’t tell me, and I couldn’t find it online. My highest scores for Jarvis’s Chardonnays have been for their very expensive, reserve-style Finch Hollow bottling, which this is not; this is less costly, although still from their estate vineyard, 1,000 feet up in the southern Vacas, on Napa’s eastern side. The wine is first and foremost oaky, courtesy of aging in 100% new French barrels. Buttered toast and sweet caramel dominate. It went through 100% malolactic fermentation, which adds to the butteriness. Sur lie aging contributes a yeasty, sweet-sourdough note. Underneath you’ll find some tropical fruits. The acidity is fine. This is a flashy Chardonnay, designed to dazzle, but it quickly palls. Score: 87.

MERLOT

Kenefick Ranch 2012 Estate Merlot (Calistoga): $50. Merlot is not Kenefick Ranch’s strongest suit, just as it is not from almost every other Napa Valley Cabernet house. So peculiar are Merlot’s needs for success that few wineries anywhere can rise to the occasion. This 2012 is a solid, drinkable wine, with some enjoyable features, but it does have flaws. For one, the alcohol, at 15.5%, is very high and noticeable, giving the wine a jalapeño pepper heat that’s hard to ignore despite deliciously ripe cherry-berry fruit. Another problem is an awkward acid-tannin balance that makes the wine feel jiggly-jaggly in the mouth. Score: 85.

House Family Vineyards 2011 Merlot (Santa Cruz Mountains): $48. I happened to taste this Merlot, which contains the two Cabernets, Sauvignon and Franc, as well as Petit Verdot in the blend, right after a high-end Bordeaux blend from Tuscany that impressed me for its dry, structural complexity. The House Family Merlot stood up well. Of course, it’s richer and riper in sunshiney fruit, with a core of sweet licorice and cinnamon, but the structure is just as fine. Great acidity and firm tannins frame the fruit and spices, while 50% new French oak barrel aging brings enriching but balanced notes of toast. As the wine warms in the glass, it grows more seductive. Only 110 cases were produced, with an elegantly low alcohol level of 13.8%. The estate vineyard is above the foothills town of Saratoga. This is definitely a Merlot that’s a cut above most in California, from a winery worth watching. Score: 92.

OTHER WHITE

District 4 2014 White Blend (Napa Valley); $20. District 4 is the California Dept. of Food and Agriculture’s designation for Napa County, meaning this wine could come from anywhere within that vast region. As it turns out, the grapes hail from Atlas Peak, Oak Knoll and Coombsville—in other words, cooler, southern areas. The varietal blend is Sauvignon Blanc, Marsanne and Chardonnay. There’s a tiny bit of oak, just enough to give it some fatness. It’s a clean, crisp wine, with fruity, spicy, herb, white pepper and mineral notes, not particularly complex but super-drinkable and interesting. Easy to drink with almost anything that wants a dry, low alcohol (13.7%) white wine. The parent company is Prime Cellars, and the winemaker is Ted Henry, who is Jarvis’s winemaker. Score: 86.

PINOT NOIR

Furthermore 2012 Gap’s Crown Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sonoma Coast); $50. Gap’s Crown has emerged in recent years as a pre-eminent source of Pinot Noir. Located near Cotati, well south of the traditional Russian River Valley, it’s been source to outstanding wines from Fulcrum, Trombetta, Guarachi Family, Sojourn and others, as well as Furthermore, whose 2009 Gap’s Crown I gave 95 points. Here’s a wine in the same style. Pale in color and crisp in acidity, it offers intense and complex flavors of raspberries and cherries, with a leathery edge and the same mushroominess as that wonderful ’09. It’s a bit hot, with an official alcohol reading of 14.5%, but you won’t notice it with a salted-and-peppered filet mignon or T-bone. Score: 91.

Furthermore 2012 Nevina’s Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sonoma Coast); $50. I’d never tasted a wine from Nevina’s vineyard, although my former Wine Enthusiast colleague, Virginie Boone, gave Furthermore’s 2011 Nevina’s 90 points. The vineyard is near Occidental, a cool-climate area, and is at a remarkable 1,300 feet in elevation in the coastal hills. It was planted to Dijon clones in 2002, and only 126 cases of this wine were made. It’s fairly pale in color, but quite weighty in the mouth, with intensely ripe raspberry, cherry and red licorice flavors, as well as a balancing earth-and-mushroom complexity. The tannin-acid balance is just fine, while the oak is perfect. This is a very good wine, immediately likeable, although a bit too immature right now. Give it at least four years, and then enjoy a classic Pinot Noir that might still be enticing in 2022. Score: 92.

Furthermore 2012 La Encantada Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sta. Rita Hills); $40. This is one of the winery’s bigger, more ponderous releases from the 2012 vintage. It seems clumsy in youth, although the component parts are quite fine. You have good acidity and softly gooey tannins, with jammy raspberry and cherry flavors, but it’s harder to put into words why the wine feels so heavy now. Maybe it’s a certain plummy, raisiny overripeness. I re-examined my Encantada reviews from multiple wineries over many years, looking for some clue, but there was none. Sometimes Encantada Pinots are ravishing; sometimes they’re not. Furthermore’s 2007 was a gorgeous wine; I gave it 93 points. I’d give this 2012 something lower, say 88.

Furthermore 2012 Gloria Vineyard Pinot Noir (Russian River Valley); $40. Lots of acidity in this tart, somewhat arch young wine. The grapes are from Freeman Winery’s estate vineyard, in the Green Valley area near Sebastopol. The grapes were planted in 2006, which is comparatively young, and may account for a certain toughness. The clones vary from Swan and Pommard to newer Dijons. There’s a rich, deep core of pomegranates, persimmons and red plums, with a dusting of sandalwood and a fancy coating of smoky oak, but the tartness is somewhat inhibiting. Give it until 2020 and see what’s up. Score: 88.

Furthermore 2012 Sierra Mar Vineyard Pinot Noir (Santa Lucia Highlands); $40. This is one of those coastal Pinot Noirs that combines a pale, translucent color with intensely concentrated flavors, which is probably the highest praise I can give Pinot. The color anticipates the weight, which is delicate and silky, despite a fairly hefty alcohol level of 14.7%. I instantly think of a charbroiled steak; the smoky edge of the wine will echo the caramelized sear, while its acids and mild tannins will grapple beautifully with the meat-fat. Flavors? Glad you asked. Raspberries, cherries, cola and Christmas persimmons, with an earthy, mushroomy spiciness. Drink this glorious wine now and over the next four years. Score: 93.

Furthermore 2012 Weir Vineyard Pinot Noir (Yorkville Highlands); $50. My impressions of this vineyard, located in the Mendocino mountains as you make your way from inland to the Anderson Valley, were shaped over many years by Williams Selyem’s bottlings. I sometimes found the Pinots heavy and soft, although Bob Cabral assured me that the winery’s legions of fans loved it. The wines seemed to get better after 2007 or so; I loved Williams Selyem’s 2011, which led me to believe that a cooler vintage was kinder to the vineyard. The 2012 vintage was not exactly cool. It represented a restoration of normality after decidedly chilly 2010 and 2011. This resulting Furthermore wine is tasty and ripe, but still seems a bit soft and rustic to me. The flavors, of raspberries and cherries, orange zest, red licorice, smoke and vanilla, are frankly delicious, if a bit obvious. It may simply be that this is a wine that needs bottle age. I may be being a little ornery here, and I hope I’m wrong. Try stashing it in your cellar until 2017 or so and see what it does. Score: 89.

Furthermore 2012 Rosella’s Vineyard Pinot Noir (Santa Lucia Highlands); $50. Rosella’s Vineyard, which has been the source of so many fine Pinot Noirs from so many wineries, is in some respects the quintessential Santa Lucia Highlands vineyard. It’s located just northwest of the appellation’s center—not too warm, not too cold, just right. Furthermore is one of those wineries, like Siduri and Testarossa, that sources fruit from multiple Pinot Noir vineyards. This is clearly their best Rosella’s to date. The alcohol is a respectable 14.8%; you can taste the ripeness in the vast array of raspberries and cherries, with a slight heat of liqueur and a long, deliciously spicy finish. The mouthfeel is silky and elegant, just what Pinot Noir should be. It’s a delightful wine. Despite the immediately appealing flavors, it has a thoughtful quality, the kind of wine that’s a little brooding at first, and then slowly unfolds as it breathes. I would drink it now and over the next four years with anything made from lamb: roasted leg, chops, rosemary-braised shanks. The crisp acidity and ultra-fine tannins will cut right through the fat. But just 151 cases were produced. Score: 92.

Cattleya 2012 Donum Vineyard Pinot Noir (Carneros); $85. Alc.14.5%. I’ve long had an affection for Pinot Noirs from Donum’s estate vineyard. It seemed like they had to work hard to get a score below 90 points! They’ve sold coveted fruit to a handful of wineries, and now, Cattelya is among them. The winery was unfamiliar to me until recently; the owner/winemaker, Bibiana Rave, previously worked at Lynmar, Peay, La Crema, Pahlmeyer, Au Bon Climat and Qupé. In other words, this Columbia-born, French-trained winemaker knows her Pinot Noir! The Donum vineyard, in the heart of Carneros, on the Sonoma side of the appellation, south of the Carneros Highway, on Ramal Road, was planted by the great Anne Moller-Racke in 1989-1990. It was part of the historic Buena Vista estate vineyard. These wines always show similar characteristics in youth: mouthwatering acidity, a scour of tannins, absolute dryness, and, in a good vintage, deeply concentrated, but juvenile, fruit flavors of cherries and black raspberries. There’s a corresponding spicy, tobacco, mushroom and black pepper note that gives it a fine earthiness. This is a very good wine, juicy, complex and delicious, but it’s so tart and unevolved that it’s clearly too young to drink. It will no dou t show up on plenty of restaurant wine lists, recommended by somms for steak, lamb, ahi tuna and the like, but I would strongly advise drinking it now. Give it six to eight more years in a good cellar. Score: 93.

SYRAH

Prime 2013 Syrah (Coombsville); $42. This is for those who like their Syrahs Northern Rhône style. It’s absolutely dry, with brisk acidity and furry tannins framing flavors of blackberries, blueberries, white pepper, tobacco, olive tapenade and something Asian-meaty, like seared beef teriaki. If that sounds delicious, it is. The wine feels smooth and elegant in the mouth, and has a long, spicy (cinnamon, pepper, clove, star anise) finish. Only 101 cases were produced, and while the alcohol level, 15.1 percent, is hefty, there’s very little heat, only a blood-warming headiness. There’s just enough oak to bring suggestions of smoke, although the oak tannins are firm. I would drink this wine now, after a generous period of decanting, with anything that wants a full-bodied, robust red wine. Lamb comes to mind, as chops, as roasted leg, as stew, with pork a close second. If you want to age it for six years, go right ahead. It’ll be just fine. Coombsville is best known for Bordeaux-style wines, but this is a sophisticated Syrah, from a great vintage. Score: 93.

My tasting yesterday of eight Carneros Pinot Noirs was enormously instructive to me, even after all these years. Afterwards, we tried to put together four attributes that linked all the wines, and they were:

1. acidity
2. a “Burgundian” earthy, mushroomy thing
3. spices
4. nice, ripe California fruit

Of course, identifying regional typicity is possible only in high-end wines, preferably single vineyards but not necessarily. As it turned out, there were two fabulous wines that really captured Carneros: one on the Napa side, the other on the Sonoma side. But these boundaries are political fantasies: true terroir doesn’t follow county lines, which is why Carneros was properly recognized by the Feds as the first AVA that crossed counties, because it was defined by climate and soil.

Here are my notes, somewhat abbreviated.

Donum 2012 West Slope, $90. The first wine in the flight. It blew me away so much that I decided to return to it after the last wine. Sometimes the first wine of a flight (and of the day) can seem better than it inherently is. It showed the most wonderfully ripe, pure raspberries and cherries, with plenty of exotic Asian spices, smoky oak, great acidity and polished tannins. After an hour in the glass the oak emerged as a stronger force. There also was a rich, mulchy mushroominess. This is a fabulous wine with a future. Score: 94 points.

La Rochelle 2011 Donum Estate, $80. A real disappointment. It was bretty but also thin. Well, it’s 2011, after all. Score: 84 points.

Carneros Hills 2013 Estate, $36. I work for Jackson Family Wines, which owns this winery. The wine was okay. Nothing wrong with it, in fact a pretty good wine, but the best I could do was 87 points. I know that Carneros Hills is a work in progress and I expect better things from it in the future.

Hartford Court 2012 Sevens Bench Vineyard, $65. Another Jackson Family Wines wine, and another disappointment. It was too hot in alcohol—officially 15% but I think higher than that. I scored it at 87 points.

Cattleya 2012 Donum Vineyard, $85. This was one of the better wines in the flight: rich, fruity and young, but a little soft. I thought it might improve in 3-4 years and scored it at 90 points.

Paul Hobbs 2013 Hyde Vineyard, $75. A fabulous wine. Savory, rich, complex, complete. Raspberries, plums, cherries, great savoir faire. Right up there with the Donum West Slope. Score: 93 points.

Saintsbury 2012 Lee Vineyard, $54. We all frankly found this wine a little unassertive. Nothing particularly wrong with it, just lacking that extra oomph. Score: 87 points.

Stemmler 2012 Estate, $44. It was better than the Saintsbury but not even close to the Donum or Paul Hobbs. A good, sound, well-made Carneros Pinot Noir. Score: 89 points.

Some critics have claimed to find minerality in Carneros Pinot Noir. I did not—at least, not as much as you find in Santa Maria Valley Pinot Noir.

The question arose as to whether we can assume that the Napa side of Carneros is warmer than the Sonoma side. I do think that’s true, overall: Sonoma Carneros is that much more open to the Petaluma Gap. But it differs with individual wineries: when they want to pick, how ripe they want the brix or flavors to get before they pick. And there are differences in climate even within Napa, which is why the question of Haut Carneros—approaching the Mayacamas foothills—and Bas Carneros—the muddy, sandy, silty flats along San Pablo Bay—continues to be a fascinating one. I don’t know about the Frenchisms, but I do think this process of further distinguishing Carneros’s terroirs would be further along if they’d allowed more small, creative wineries to do business there.

Carneros has lost much of its luster over the last twenty years. But the potential is there for Carneros to re-gain the reputation it once had, and again be a contender.

To say that I was shocked when I read Andy Blue’s editorial in the latest edition of The Tasting Panel would be an understatement.

It’s a sharp, almost brutal attack on California Petite Sirah—so malicious in tone that I truly don’t understand where Andy is coming from—at least, the Andy I’ve known, liked and admired for decades. He’s a polite, gentlemanly type, thoughtful, wry and scholarly–not given to diatribes or the kind of invective displayed in this hit piece.

He calls Petite Sirah a “garbage grape” and a “Frankenstein monster.” He is “offended” by it, as though Petite Sirah had personally insulted him. In what is possibly the most hyperbolic exaggeration I’ve ever read in a wine article, he speculates that Petite Sirah is “European pay back for America exporting phylloxera to them,” thereby equating the grape and wine with a pest that kills vines and almost destroyed the French wine industry. He supposes that Petite Sirah is possibly better than “toxic bathtub gin,” but—one feels—not by much. He concludes that no one “in their right mind” would choose to drink it, even over Barbera, one of the most disagreeable wines in California.

I mean, what’s going on?

I’m not saying Petite Sirah is the greatest wine in the world. I drink very little; I would not normally buy it for myself. But there are hundreds of varieties and wines I would not normally buy for myself, but which I can be objective about as a critic; I don’t loathe them the way Andy seems to hate Petite Sirah. Even the title of Andy’s piece, P.S., I Don’t Get It, seems designed to mock P.S. I Love You, the Petite Sirah trade and marketing group.

Petite Sirah has its place, definitely, in the world of robust, full-bodied and dry red wines. And there is something historically Californian about it. I’ve particularly enjoyed bottles from Madrigal, Titus, Envy, Ridge, Kent Rasmussen, Zina Hyde Cunningham, Sirius, Turley and Grgich Hills, among others (and you’ll notice that most of those came from Napa Valley). Don’t forget, some of the ancient vine field blends we so rightly celebrate in California are based, largely or in part, on Petite Sirah. You want to talk ageabiilty? A great Petite Sirah will last longer than any Pinot Noir or Cabernet Sauvignon.

Look, properly grown, well-made Petite Sirah can be a dramatic, rich, enjoyable wine; most of them are no longer the monsters they used to be, as vintners treat the vines and wines with more respect, ending up with balanced, less alcoholic bottlings. And Petite Sirah is the ideal partner to the kinds of foods restaurateurs serve up at P.S. I Love You’s “Dark and Delicious” event, held annually at Kent Rosenblum’s Rock Wall Wine Co.: pork and beef stews, short ribs, sausages, burgers, and anything with chocolate. So, old pal Andy–a great entrepreneur and brilliant media idea man–I think you maybe woke up on the wrong side of bed when you wrote that piece.

Last week, after The Donald unleashed his tirade against Mexicans, I posted a petition on my Facebook page urging Macy’s to “fire” Trump by cancelling their sponsorship of his clothing line.

Lo and behold, the very next day, Macy’s announced that they were doing exactly that: they dumped Trump.

Much as I would love to take personal credit for that, I can’t. Hundreds of thousands of people signed the petition, which Macy’s apparently took very seriously. And so Donald Trump is learning that words, even hastily uttered, have consequences.

That was an example of what social media does best: galvanizing popular outrage and channeling it in effective ways. Another example is this issue of the confederate flag in South Carolina. We know how that turned out: they decided to remove the flag from their statehouse. Certainly, South Carolina’s governor, Nikki Haley, had a lot to do with the outcome, with her brave personal reaction; but in reality, it was “social media, not businesses or politicians, [that] drove [the] flag removal,” in the words of this perceptive San Francisco Chronicle piece.

Almost as soon as the dreadful Charleston church shootings were over and it was learned that the shooter fancied the confederate flag, activists began a concerted campaign to force major corporations, such as Walmart and Sears, to stop selling confederate flag-related products. Those companies responded quickly. Anti-confederate flag sentiment went viral on Twitter and other social media, and voters besieged South Carolina lawmakers, who also responded quickly, by voting to remove the flag.

I saw this power of social media to politically stimuate huge numbers of people as early as 2011, when tens of thousands of Egyptians, communicating via Twitter, mobilized in Cairo’s Tahrir Square to protest against then-President Hosni Mubarak’s repressive regime. The dictatorship responded in exactly the wrong way: by attempting to suppress Twitter and Facebook, “a grave mistake” that was “the beginning of the end” for the regime. The author Wael Ghonim has called this spectacular continuation of the Arab Spring “Revolution 2.0” in his book of the same name.

This is what social media was designed for: it encourages communication and sharing, empowers and amplifies the voiceless, and can bleed over into the mainstream media when things go viral—thus influencing the course of history. I could cite instance after instance of social media’s political muscle, from the people’s overthrow of Filipino President Joseph Estrada and the similar overthrow of Spanish prime minister Jose Maria Aznar to the Catholic Church’s troubles with pedophile priests.

I celebrate social media for these reasons—and I keep in mind that social media also has a less spectacular but no less wonderful use: that of merely allowing us to stay in touch with friends (both real and digital), to learn from them and be amused and inspired and make our lives less disconnected from each other. That is a fantastic thing, McLuhan’s global village writ digitally. What is far less clear is whether social media can play a strong role in the prosaic business of selling things. That is, as Dorothy noted, a horse of a different color.

Prosecco, as you know, has been on a roll lately, but when you read headlines like this:

“PROSECCO OVERTAKING CHAMPAGNE AS SPARKLING WINE OF CHOICE”, you know that something far more important than the ephemeral popularity of a particular wine is happening. Why is Prosecco so hot?

Two things:

1. Millennials coming of age
2. The Great Recession

Concerning Millennials, they “aren’t earning as much money as their parents did when they were young,” a situation that’s even worse for Millennial women. Saddled with student debt, they’re unable to afford homes, and in general are feeling financial pressures in a way their parents (my generation) never did (at least, until the Great Recession struck). So when it comes to discretionary spending, Millennials are spending downward.

Speaking of that Great Recession, it impacted all of us. Trillions of dollars went down the drain. “The wealth of most Americans down 55% since recession,” CBS MoneyWatch headlined in 2013. We’ve made some of that back since then, but Americans of all ages still are feeling the pinch, which is why U.S. economic growth has been so sluggish.

Under the circumstance, you have to consider two things concerning sparkling wine: quality and price. Simply put, Champagne is expensive, Prosecco isn’t. The average price of a bottle of French Champagne on a restaurant wine list is $117. I couldn’t find anything online concerning the average price of Prosecco, but on Snooth, they list many Proseccos, mostly below $20 a bottle, so even if you double that for a restaurant wine list, it’s only about $40.

And qualitatively, as we all know, a good Prosecco is as satisfying as Champagne. So why would anyone choose to buy Champagne, except for image and perceptions?

For me, the issue here isn’t about Prosecco per se, it’s about the average American looking for less expensive wines than perhaps her parents used to. I was up in Napa Valley yesterday, and we were chatting about expensive wine, and how and if these pricy bottles of Napa Cab will continue to exist into the future. Someone asked me my opinion, and I replied that I’ve been wrong in my prognostications so many times in the past that I’ve basically given up on the prediction game. But still, a part of me just can’t see folks who are, say, in their twenties today spending $50 or $60 per bottle retail as they hit middle age, or spending $100-plus for a bottle in a restaurant. I just think some things in America have fundamentally changed: the Great Recession, as I said, but something else: We’ve become a more frugal country, less apt to consume conspicuously. The outrages of the super-rich have changed our sense of right and wrong; our moral compass has swung back to what it was at this country’s beginnings: living simply.

At the height of the Great Recession, there was much talk of “The New Frugality,” as for instance here and here; everyone agreed it was a reality, and the only question was whether it would continue once the Great Recession lifted. Well, the Great Recession now has lifted (the country actually hasn’t been in recession for years), but, as Forbes noted just last year, “an enduring ‘New Frugality’…has Americans of prime working age, mainly 25 to 55, spending less, working less, and buying cheaper.” That, it seems to me, is likely to mark this nation for many years to come. It’s why people are preferring Prosecco to Champagne, and why we’re likely to see a similar switch in other wine types, if it hasn’t already happened.

There used to be sexism in the wine business. I know, because I know some wonderful women winemakers who began their careers in the 1970s and told me their stories. Even though they had winemaking degrees, they couldn’t get hired anyplace but the laboratory, because the white men who owned the wineries thought they’d be incompetent as winemakers.

Well, we don’t have sexism anymore, thank goodness. But we have another form of prejudice that’s just as pernicious: ageism.

Read, for example, this piece, from Snooth, that refers to “old white guys.” The author of the Snooth piece, James Duren, is quoting Jeff Siegel, the proprietor of a wine blog called winecurmudgeon.com. In the Snooth piece, Duren is writing about the demise of the point-scoring system (yes, again…yawn), and apparently came across something Siegel had written on his blog (I tried to find it but couldn’t, so I will trust that Duren is quoting Siegel accurately). Siegel was going on about how social media is changing wine is such fundamental ways that the entire sales and distribution chain is being upset, which, he claimed, is “something the old white guys can’t even begin to understand.”

Okay, let’s break this down.

First of all, Siegel isn’t exactly some cool young dude. Here’s a picture of him from his website

Photo credit: winecurmudgeon.com

that makes it clear his younger self is fast disappearing in the rear view mirror. So words of wisdom, Mr. Siegel: Be careful whom you disparage. What goes around, comes around, in this world of karma.

But even worse than Siegel’s uncalled-for rudeness is its absolute incorrectness. I’ve worked with plenty of “old white guys” in the wine industry who are a lot smarter and more successful than Mr. Siegel will ever be. In fact, the winery owners and executives I know understand precisely how social media, online buying and all that is rocking their world. They’re trying to deal with it the best they can, the same as everyone else: the problem, as I’ve pointed out for years, is that there are no easy solutions.

Look: When you’re a little blogger, it’s easy to pontificate. That’s what some bloggers do: From the ivory tower of their desktops they type the most vapid absurdities into their computers, then hit the “Publish” button and think they come across like Einstein declaring the Theory of Relativity.

But not a single one of these bloggers actually runs a wine business! (If I’m wrong, let me know. But I don’t think I am.) They’ve never sold a damn bottle of wine, never had to hit gridlocked roads visiting with on-premise or off-premise accounts, never had to come up with a marketing campaign, never had to develop a winery website, never sent a wine sample off to a critic, never lived with the fallout of a bad review, never hosted a winemaker dinner, never had to meet a payroll for field workers and secretaries, never had to fix a tractor on a cold rainy morning, never stayed up for three days and nights doing a harvest. None of that, nada, zero, zilch. And yet they think that being a blogger puts them in a position to criticize older winery owners and tell them how to run their business.

Chutzpah!

What is this fear and loathing these not-so-young bloggers have for “old white guys” anyway? Their psychological hangup obviously is connected to their hatred of point scores, and of wine reviewing in general, which they claim is elitist. But then these same bloggers turn around and review wines (from free samples, of course), just like older critics do—and yet without the experience, without the chops, without the context.

Perhaps they’re just acting out subconscious frustrations they feel towards their own parents. Whatever the cause, their anger, rudeness and vitriol is not only ugly, but will hurt them in the long run, because one thing that doesn’t change about the wine industry is that it’s a small town where everyone knows everyone else, and people value respectfulness and kindness. You want to succeed in this business for the long run? Do your homework, learn your stuff, play nice in the sandbox, and wait your turn. You don’t have to tear others down to boost yourself up.

And as for social media completely disrupting the traditional sales model and replacing it with a bunch of “friends recommending to friends,” if you believe that, I’ve got a bridge to sell you. Ain’t gonna happen anytime soon. Social media has become a useful tool in the overall tool kit with which to market and sell wine, but it’s just that: a tool, and not even a very good one, if we’re going to be brutally honest. We’ve been having this conversation now for eight years and social media still hasn’t displaced traditional marketing and sales approaches. If it worked as well as people like Mr. Siegel claim, don’t you think proprietors would have dismantled their sales and marketing departments—thereby saving tons of money—and simply depended on social media? Of course they would have. But they know something that Mr. Siegel doesn’t: Social media doesn’t work as advertised by its adherents. Are these proprietors simply “old white guys who can’t even begin to understand” how the real world works? Or are they savvy businessmen who require proof, not simple, self-serving assertions, that something works? The latter, methinks. No, meknow.

The author, Maggie Hennessy, suggests that today’s somms are becoming obsolete due to the phenomenon of “sommelier 2.0”– somms moving more and more into the business, management and financial sides of their restaurants. This not only takes them steadily away from wine, it forces them to concentrate on beer and spirits—beverages they may have only a passing knowledge of and interest in, but that are increasingly important to a restaurant’s bottom line.

I know a sommelier or two—or fifty—and I’ve seen definite changes in how they do their jobs. It used to be that the sommelier was driven more by the discovery of interesting wines and the personal passion she held for them. Of course, he or she had to contribute to the restaurant’s profits, but in the larger scheme of things, the somm was seen as adding a certain esthetic to the operation. It fell to the kitchen to be the profit center; one had the feeling that restaurant ownership felt the sommelier brought added value, in the form of a clear commitment on management’s part to a fine-wine program, which was something diners seemed to appreciate and expect.

Esthetics, unfortunately, don’t pay rent or employee salaries and benefits. The squeeze has been building on fine-dining establishments for years, and was vastly accentuated by the Great Recession, which forced many of them out of business, and compelled others to take a more draconian approach to the bottom line. This is when somms really began feeling the heat: Management said, in effect, “Show us how your monetary results in a return on the investment we’ve made in you, or else we’ll show you the door.”

This is understandable, but it also created a crisis for sommeliers, who suddenly found themselves in an existential dilemma. Were they first and foremost wine lovers whose primary task was to discover gems the public might not know about? Were they simply curators of bloated wine lists stuffed with First Growths and cult Cabs they, themselves, neither could afford nor particularly liked? Or were they mere tools of the CFO, part of a sales staff whose sole responsibility was making money by pretending to be independent arbiters?

Obviously, all somms participate to some extent in all three of these areas. It’s a matter of emphasis. But the point of the Chicago Crain’s article, with which I agree, seems to be that the emphasis has been shifting over the last seven or eight years. We see this, not only anecdotally, but in terms of the sheer numbers of sommelier accreditation programs out there, which is greatly increasing the applicant pool. There are more somms available for employment than there are jobs, frankly, and so management is able to select—not simply the most educated somm, but the one who is thought best able to make money. That requires sound business and management skills, not simply an extraordinary knowledge of wine.

So where does the somm go from here? Is he an endangered species—“becoming obsolete,” as suggested by in the Chicago-Crain’s headline? No. The fact that we’re talking about “sommeliers,” and in fact that so many people are talking about somms, means that we—in the industry, and those advanced consumers—have some weird kind of fascination with the cult of the somm. The sommelier has seized hold of the American wine-drinking imagination in a way few would have thought possible.

But the sommelier’s role is changing, radically, and we do need to recognize it. Less driven by passion than profits, today’s somm needs to be understood by diners in a different way: Not so much a pure messenger of extraordinary wines, or an objective educator, but a representative of the restaurant’s management. That, I should think, would shift our perception of the sommelier in dramatic and significant ways.