Squeeze up to the table of any of the producers showing their wines
at any wine festival or post competition show and you will hear the same
things. As the wine slops into your
glass you will have little time to make an independent judgement. Before it has
settled you will be told, “lovely colour isn’t it?” and if you are still unsure, “terrific depth, lots of skin maceration”. You
nod meekly, not wanting to disagree and if you do question why the Pinot Noir
is so dark you may be put straight immediately, “great vintage, lots of sun and it’s made without compromise”.
At another table you raise the glass for a sniff, the work is done
for you, “real intensity, lots of
tropical notes, guava, pineapple, kiwi, a real fruit medley this Sauvignon”. And if, with a frown, you are not sure about
its complexity you might get an, “amazing, isn’t it?” Where is the piercing citrus
minerality, you wonder, and ask if it is cool region grapes, “Oh yes, definitely cool, the grapes come from
Paarl, lots of citrus, too, and some flintiness”. Now you are confused. This wine has it all.
Have the pourers been in car sales in a previous existence?
I guess it is not easy with so many people bustling and demanding
attention and there are always those, I notice, immovable in front of the
table, who hog attention with enthralling tales of meeting a previous winemaker
in 1992 or visiting the winery just last
month or hoping to garner admiration by mentioning he’s just bought six bottles at
Checkers..
Perhaps it is easier, then, to save time and do the thinking for the
taster. Much quicker just to tell them
what they are thinking, less room for error, too.
“Lots of lovely red berries on the palate, spicy
too and so smooth”. You are told as you
sip. Then as you have to fight your way to the spittoon you notice how quickly
the flavours disappear. “Um, is it a bit short?” you ask. “It’s
young and will develop, but it’s
got good length already”. Silly you. Will it
develop? It says best drunk young on the back.
Any
fruit you pick out will be confirmed as a constituent in the wine. “Lots of red and black fruit notes”. Is this even possible, you wonder. What about the searingly charred oak
puckering your cheeks? “Yes, oaked for 12 months” you are told. But this wine is R40, how can it
be barrelled and would old wood taste like this? Now the pourer has to be
creative. “Some new wood influence”. Ah,
staves most likely, or something suspended in a net, or out of a sachet. “Gives it real body”. Yes, unfortunately.
Flattery might help, “you obviously know your wines” sound familiar?
Then the pourer has to close the deal. Like any good Nissan dealer,
they will have worked you out by now. Is price your main driver? Or
exclusivity, or worst case scenario, quality. If it is price they might try, “special offer for today, 20% off a case, only
today though”. And if you hesitate, a
follow-up, “it’s a great deal for a wine of
this quality, we take credit cards, you could pay now and collect it on the way
out or we can deliver, can we put you on the mailing list? And, if you buy
today you automatically stand a chance to win six bottles free!” Could
use them for cooking, you think and consider other wines. “Probably the best value here today” echoes as you walk away.
Exclusivity for most wines is a harder sell. Wines above R200 will
have a different market anyway, but those under R80 or so will need more
effort. “We didn’t make much this year and
it is so popular we will soon sell out”. But it is in every supermarket at this price, you muse. “Everyone trying it loves it, this vintage might
be a one-off”. You think of the ‘vintage of the decade’ in Bordeaux in 2000, followed by another one in 2005, another in
2009 and another in 2010. Still not sure? “Could be the wine of the show, we’ve only got two more bottles
left”. Behind the table, you
mean, lots more in the van outside and thousands of cases in the warehouse.
Making a sale on the basis of quality takes all their guile. This
might be the fifteenth wine you’ve
tried since the burger at lunch and straight after the muscadel you couldn’t resist. Your judgement
is impaired. Perfect. “This is a special wine, Veritas Bronze,
drinking beautifully now but will be even better in two or three years”. How long will it keep, you ask. “Good for three or four years”. But it is so tight and tannic you suggest it
might be better in ten to fifteen. “Exactly”, comes the reply. “Made the top 20 Cape Blends in the Fraserburg
Food and Wine Show”. Impressive, you think. Can’t have been more than 10
entered, surely?
The best way to ease the pressure is to use the classic, ‘I’ll
think about it’.
Now you are dead to them and you can almost feel the resentment. Perhaps they
are on commission. They won’t
believe the ‘I’ll have a look round and come
back later’,
either. Like me you’ll probably have forgotten every
stall you meant to go back to, anyway.
How long before wine salespeople at shows are wearing shiny suits
and sticking labels reading ‘one careful owner’, ‘taste today’, ‘take me home’ and ‘drinks beautifully’ on the bottles?