The on-going debate in the Texas wine business is about whether to make wine from grapes that consumers recognize, or to make wine from grapes that are suited to the Texas terroir. It's a debate that has pitted winemakers against winemakers, growers against winemakers, and critics against winemakers.
The first group argues that consumers won't buy wine from a Texas winery unless it says chardonnay, cabernet sauvignon, or merlot on the label — and that if they have to buy grapes from California to make those wines, so be it. Otherwise, there would be no Texas wine industry.
The second group, to which the Wine Curmudgeon belongs, disagrees. Our approach: What's the point of making Texas wine that tastes like California wine? Texas wine (or New York or Virginia or other regional wine, for that matter) should reflect the state's unique characteristics — the soil, the climate, and the like.
I'm going to write more about this next week, and specifically the labeling controversy in the regional wine business — how too many regional wineries try to convince consumers that wine made with California grapes came from their state. Today, though, it's enough to note that this roussanne ($14, sample) is a white wine that firmly, boldly and unequivocally makes the argument for terroir-driven wines. More, after the jump:









Rieslings are among the world ?s great wines, sharing many of the qualities that great wines from other regions of the world have: high prices, long aging, and sublime taste. So why do rieslings have such a poor reputation with U.S. wine drinkers? Which is pretty poor, considering that Nielsen reports that we drink three times more white zinfandel than we do riesling.
The Wine Curmudgeon read one of those expert prognostications last week, reassuring the wine business that all would be soon be well with the world again. Which, for the wine business, means that consumers will stop buying cheap wine, the world oversupply of grapes will go away, and prices will go up.
Robert Mondavi sold his self-named company to Constellation Brands in 2004, which means that at least a generation of wine drinkers knows Mondavi only as a name on a bottle of wine they see at the grocery store. Such are the vagaries of family businesses.