Take, for example, the Chablis I brought to a dinner with friends last week: the 2023 Domaine Gilbert Picq et Ses Fils Vauclaire Chablis ($32). Produced by one of my favorite Chablis domaines, this wine was not only a textbook example of a terrific Chablis (beautifully balanced with racy acidity, a wonderfully savory minerality and a finish that went on and on), but it came with a poignant backstory too.

Located in the tiny Chablis village of Chichée, Domaine Gilbert Picq et Ses Fils is a family-owned domaine founded by Gilbert Picq and now run by his sons Didier and Pascal and their sister Marilyn. The Picqs’ “basic” Chablis AOC is a staple in my cellar- a wine I buy year after year after year – it’s that reliably good. It’s also very reasonably priced although the price, as with the price of all white Burgundies, has crept up a bit. It’s now around $30 a bottle- which is still a (relative) bargain to me.

In addition to their AOC Chablis the Picq family produces other notable wines including several premier cru Chablis, an old vine (Vielles Vignes) Chablis and the Vauclaire bottling. Vauclaire is one of the 12 vineyard parcels that are blended into the Picq AOC Chablis. But in 2022 the Picqs decided to begin bottling it separately as an homage to Didier Picq’s good friend and neighbor Jean-Louis Subtil.

M. Subtil was a great taster and a great fan of Chablis from the Vauclaire parcel and when M. Subtil, who split his time between Paris and Chablis, died in a tragic bike accident, Didier Picq made the separate Vauclaire bottling in his friend’s honor.

The 2023 vintage I tasted and loved will be succeeded by the 2024 vintage which will be in the market this fall according to Michael Daniels, a partner of Vintage ’59 Imports. Mr. Daniels noted that the Picq family will continue to produce the Vauclaire bottling as long they believe they can do so “without compromising the quality” of the basic AOC Chablis.

As I read more about the Picq family on the Vintage ‘59 Imports website I discovered yet another great backstory: Didier Picq is a devoted equestrian who likes to ride his horse all over Chablis - an idea that thrilled this horse-mad journalist. And when I requested further details, Mr. Daniels responded with a picture of Kiowa, a beautiful chestnut Arabian- thereby shifting this backstory into the realm of a beautiful dream.

Have you tasted a wine recently that came with a great backstory? If so, please share.

Knicks Captain Jalen Brunson and dad after the Knicks clinched the championship.

Above: Didier Picq’s beautiful horse Kiowa (photograph by Didier Picq). Below: Picq’s terrific Chablis.

While couples may routinely splash out on music, flowers and food, when it comes to choosing a red and a white to accompany the wedding dinner, the decision always seems based on economics, i.e., the wine must be cheap.

I’ve been served some of the worst wines of my life at weddings: Bulgarian Merlot, Connecticut Chardonnay (yes, really) and more cheap “California” appellation Chardonnay and Cabernet than I care to remember, not to mention some very dodgy Sauvignon Blanc.

Why newly married couples choose to celebrate the happiest day of their life with wines sure to give their friends and family migraines is beyond my comprehension. Why is this true? I’ve asked over and over and the answer is always some version of the same two words: Nobody cares. Nobody but nobody- not the bridal couple, nor their family or friends. No one is thinking about the wine in their glass, I’ve been told by wedding planners, catering professionals and even some sommeliers.

I’d posit that far more people care about wedding wine than wedding flowers. In fact, I’d say the number of flower-focused diners is likely far eclipsed by wine drinkers like me who would just like a glass of something drinkable to accompany the wedding chicken, meat or fish.

I’ve experienced some exceptions to the bad-wedding-wine rule: the wine at my wedding(s) and those of a few oenophile friends. And much more recently I attended a wedding at the elegant The Fearrington House Inn in Pittsboro, North Carolina where the now-happily-married couple served a very good Champagne – Lanson Le Rosé Creation 67 -in liberal amounts to a large and happy crowd.

The Lanson wasn’t on the Inn’s wine list but one that the bridal couple had chosen themselves- something that happens “maybe once a year,” according to Fearrington Village Wine & Beer Director Troy Revell. “90% opt for Mirabello Prosecco,” said Revell.

Was there a story behind the selection of Lanson Champagne? I asked George the groom, and newly married husband of my cousin Christine. Indeed, there was, said George who happily recalled how, on a trip to Italy a few years ago, he and Christine were drinking Lanson. “That was the first time I told Christine I loved her.”

Needless to say theirs was not only one of the best wines I’ve ever been served at a wedding- but one of the best wedding wine stories as well. And their wedding flowers? They were fabulous too.

Here’s to happily ever afters with (lots of) great Champagne!

The doctor’s implication was clear: only cheap wines are closed with a screwcap and a freelance writer could only afford to drink bargain-priced wines. “I drank screwcap wines when I had a job,” I imagined informing this new-to-me doctor but decided to educate him a bit about screwcap wines instead.

Did the good doctor know that most of the wines from countries like Austria and New Zealand are closed with screwcaps – from their cheapest offerings to some of their very best bottles? Did he not realize that screwcap wines are produced by great winemakers all over the world- from California to Argentina to Burgundy to the Finger Lakes in New York? These wines weren’t mass-produced plonk but even included three-figure Napa Cabernets. For example, Plumpjack Winery in Oakville has long produced a top Cabernet Sauvignon under both screw and cork. “I’m not much of a wine drinker,” the doctor said.

It’s certainly a very different screwcap situation than it was 25 years ago when a group of New Zealand winemakers launched their “New Zealand Screwcap Wine Seal Initiative” advocating widespread use of the closure. I was in New Zealand soon after the initiative launched and I witnessed (and was occasionally drawn into) many a heated discussion about the closure. The group eventually triumphed and today some 90% of Kiwi wines are closed by screwcap.

I’m a big believer in screwcap wines – especially white and pink wines intended to be consumed within a year or two of bottling. I probably drink at least one screwcap wine each week- especially when I’m going somewhere BYOB and don’t want to worry about the possibility of bringing a wine that is corked.

How many (non-cheap) screwcap wines do I actually own? After meeting with the non-oenophile doctor I went down to my cellar to potentially rebuke his point. What I found was, well, some cheap screwcap wine. Not truly cheap but no wine that cost more than $25 a bottle – and many much less though I did find good wines that I’m happy to recommend. Here are four favorites:

2025 Domäne Wachau Grüner Veltliner Terrassen Federspiel $19

This crisp slightly spicy medium-bodied Grüner is produced by a top cooperative winery in the Wachau region of Austria. It’s a wonderfully versatile wine with food- especially with hard-to-pair vegetables like artichokes and asparagus (I paired it with both).

2023 Günther Steinmetz Wintricher Geierslay Riesling “Sur Lie” $20

This delightfully refreshing wonderfully citrusy white (think fresh-squeezed limes) is one of several wines bottled under screwcap at this well-regarded family-owned winery in Brauneberg, Germany. I guess you could say they’re (also) screwcap fans.

2025 Stefano Massone Masera Gavi $13

This Piedmontese dry white is one of my favorite bargain wines year after year from a reliably good Gavi producer. What it may lack in complexity it (more than) makes up for in easy-drinking deliciousness.

2023 Domaine Servin Chablis Les Pargues $25

This bottling from Domaine Servin is one of just a few Chablis that I’ve found bottled under screwcap. I wish there were more such wines but I was glad to find one as good as this dry, minerally white from Domaine Servin.

Addendum: I purchased all of the wines referenced in this (and previous) Substack columns although I recently – and for the first time in more than fourteen years- accepted a few samples that may appear (and will be duly noted) in this column at some future time.

J

I find words like “focused” and “soulful” which some professionals use to describe wines are not only confusing but often downright absurd. Furthermore, I’d wager most wine lovers don’t understand their meaning when applied to a bottle of wine.

I decided to note five such words- including the aforementioned “focused” and “soulful” as some I find particularly irksome and/or confusing. Perhaps, dear readers, you’d care to share some terms you find irksome and/or confusing too?

“Focused”

What is a “focused” wine? Or better yet, what is a wine that lacks focus? The definition of the word “focus” (“operating with a clear, defined purpose”) doesn’t seem to make sense in a vinous context. And yet it shows up repeatedly in many wine writers’ notes. “Focused” seems better suited to describe the taster him or herself and not the wine they’re tasting. For my part, I think a wine’s chief “purpose” is to taste good. Is that what a “focused” wine does? Could “focus” be a synonym for deliciousness? I certainly hope so.

“Intentional”

This word is often employed in tandem with the word above. A wine that is “focused” is often “intentional” too. Every wine that a critic has the opportunity to taste has been produced, bottled and sold, therefore could it not be described as “intentional”? For my part, I’d prefer an “inadvertent” wine -one that its producer didn’t intend to make but that somehow got to the market – a bottle that they just put a cork in and said, “What the heck?!” The unpredictability seems like it could be lots more fun.

“Soulful”

This word appears often among critics not just of wine but also of music and art. It’s presumably an emotional response to something that touches the reviewer’s soul. Or perhaps said reviewer has somehow managed to identify the soul of the music, wine or art. I’m not sure where all this soulfulness resides. Is the wine/music/art the possessor of the soul or is it the one who is drinking it, aka you or me? I say Please keep your soulfulness to yourself.

“Driven”

I’m driven to distraction teetering on rage when this word is applied to a wine. It’s almost always employed in conjunction with another word such as “mineral” or “acid” or “fruit” – those seem to be three favorites – as in “a mineral-driven” wine or a “fruit-driven” wine. Why does it have to be “driven?” If by employing the word “driven” the taster means that the wine is dominated by one aspect or flavor why not say so?

“Curated”

My final peeve is a word which has been overused just about everywhere. Everything everywhere has been “curated” these days including and especially restaurant wine lists. No one simply selects, buys and (over)prices wines on a restaurant wine list; instead a sommelier or a wine director or some ambitious staffer bent on greater recognition is said to have “curated” the wine list. Do restaurant patrons prefer to choose a wine from a curated list rather than from a list whose creation (or creator) is unremarked upon- one that doesn’t include this precious word? I know that I do.

The Promised Pretty Good Definitely Cheap Pink

2025 Kirkland Côtes de Provence Rosé $9

The current Kirkland pink hit my local store a couple of weeks ago and I bought a couple of bottles as I was curious to taste the most recent Kirkland iteration. The verdict? It’s pretty good. A blend of Grenache, Syrah, Cinsault and Vermentino, the 2025 Kirkland Côtes de Provence Rosé is a juicy pink that’s slightly tropical, slightly floral, pretty dry and yes, cheap. It’s a wine to buy for a backyard picnic, a beach afternoon (though it does require a corkscrew) and while I could not detect whether or not it had a soul, I did determine it should be served (very) cold.

Coming Soon for Paid Subscribers: Three Good Pinks

The flyleaf of my father’s college dictionary which was my trusty aid in the writing of this column …

My favorite of all the wine books I wrote whose title says it all.

A wine that may not be soulful or driven but is most certainly intentional.

How often have you visited a city that you didn’t want to leave? That’s how I felt when I visited Portland, Maine last week.

Drawn by its scenery, wine and food, my friend Sheryl and I took a whirlwind trip north. Yes, we saw lighthouses, yes we ate lobster rolls (actually just one that we opted to share given its $50 price) and yes we drank Chablis. But mostly I wondered what it would be like to spend time in a state whose license plate proclaims itself “Vacationland.”

We had plenty of good meals not all of which included wine. There was eclectic lunch fare at the modestly-monikered minute-sized Luncheonette (shout out to the curry chicken sandwich and the cabbage salad) and superb croissants from the Standard Baking Company -which I visited two mornings in a row, arriving early to secure my place in the queue.

Both had been recommended by my friend Peggy Grodinsky, the longtime Food Editor of the Portland Herald Review. Peggy had sent a long list of things to do which included a slew of dinner options. I chose three restaurants: Scales, Leeward and Wayside Tavern. Of the three Leeward had the best wine list. (I opted for the 2024 Vincent Dampt Chablis.)

All three restaurants were favorites of Peggy’s primarily for the food but they became favorites of ours too not just for the quality of the dining but for the bonhomie of the staff as well. Are people in Portland just naturally nice or is it because they live in a city with incredible views of Casco Bay and within an easy drive of the most iconic lighthouse on the East Coast?

One place Peggy didn’t mention because she’s more of a food than wine person (by her own admission) but I wanted to see was Maine & Loire, Portland’s first (and best) natural wine store. Founded in 2015 by former New Yorkers, husband-and-wife team Peter and Orenda Hale who arrived in Maine the year before, the store is home to an array of natural and biodynamic wines in an airy former warehouse space.

The Hales used to have a restaurant (Drifters) as well but running a restaurant was incompatible with family life noted Mr. Hale. The couple now operate a wine bar next to the store but its hours are much more reasonable than those of a restaurant. The wine bar closes promptly 6 p.m.- plenty of time to get home for dinner. “We call it ‘a wine shop you can drink in,’” said Mr. Hale.

The 6’8” tall Mr. Hall was not only the tallest wine merchant I’ve ever met but one of the most congenial. (Perhaps these New Yorkers were already Portland Nice?) The wines were often displayed with informative or encouraging signs, lettered by the artistic Mrs. Hale. For example: “At 10.5% this glassy groulleau is ‘glou glou.’” I’ve never called a wine “glassy” before but made a mental note to soon co-opt the term.

Although I’m not much of a natural wine drinker (as readers of my old WSJ column may recall) there were lots of wines in the Maine & Loire store that I have tasted before and loved- and others I’ve never tasted but wanted to try based on snappy labels alone. “Pork Soda” anyone? (See photo below.)

Mostly I just wanted to stay in Maine longer- a week perhaps even a month- hang out at the wine bar of Maine & Loire, take another few laps around Peaks Island on a bike and dine at the adorable new restaurant Chérie that wasn’t quite open at the time of our visit.

Indeed, Chérie owners Melody Medina and Quinn Williams were putting finishes touches on the menu/wine list when Sheryl and I walked by late one night. I knocked on the window and Mr. Williams opened the door. At my request Ms. Medina handed me the menu/wine list and I was pleased to see such dishes as Maine Halibut, Roast Chicken and Leeks Vinaigrette and wines like François Chidaine Sauvignon Blanc and Moreau-Naudet Chablis on the opposite page. “Come back tomorrow for the opening!” they said.

Alas we were scheduled to fly home the following morning “I will be back!” I said- a promise I have every intention of keeping as soon as possible- maybe as soon as next week?

The iconic Portland Head Light is an easy drive from downtown Portland where (sadly) no wine is available but there a Bite Into Maine (lobster) truck!

Fun wines at Maine & Loire wine shop

Chérie owners Melody Medina and Quinn Williams at their almost-open restaurant

I met Mr. Lynch the younger for the first time at the Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant store in Berkeley, California last week. Although the store is closed on Mondays, it was my last day out West and Mr. Lynch was kind enough to open the store so we might meet. It was an imposition, I said apologetically. But Mr. Lynch gamely insisted it was no trouble at all.

Although the name and the spirit of Kermit Lynch loom large both in his own store and in stores all over the country featuring Kermit Lynch wines, his son now plays many of the roles his now-retired father once held. “I’m picking up a lot of what my dad was doing- on the supply side meeting with producers,” said Mr. Lynch whose formal title is Sourcing and Content Manager. He never actually intended to enter the wine business. “I thought I’d work in the store while I figure my life out,” said Mr. Lynch who began working full time for the company in 2012.

The life that he led - moving between California and France with his family and studying Italian in college - set Mr. Lynch up perfectly for a role in the business. Fluency in both French and Italian is a decided boon to a company specializing in first-rate Italian and French wines. Indeed, the list of wines imported by Kermit Lynch reads like a roll call of the greats: Tempier, Ostertag, Clape and Quintarelli- just to name a (very) few of the (very) many legendary names on the Lynch roster. It’s why wine lovers trust the Kermit Lynch name. My husband (unbidden) recently told me whenever he sees the name “Kermit Lynch” on the back of a bottle, he buys the wine. “I don’t know a lot about wine, but I trust Kermit Lynch wines,” he said. It’s a sentiment I’ve heard expressed by many wine lovers many times.

I’ve known the elder Mr. Lynch for decades– not only as an importer and retailer but also as a writer. His book, Adventures on the Wine Route: A Wine Buyer’s Tour of France, is a classic and a must-read for wine lovers and wine professionals alike. Indeed, his talent as a writer nearly eclipses his reputation as an importer. When I was the Executive Wine Editor of Food & Wine, I assigned Mr. Lynch stories every now and again. We corresponded - author to editor – via fax in those days.

Years later during my tenure as the Wall Street Journal wine columnist I interviewed Mr. Lynch a few times including at Balthazar restaurant in New York. Over glasses of late-morning Muscadet, Mr. Lynch faux-lamented having written his Wine Route book. “I made a huge mistake commercially; I wrote a book explaining what I do,” he said. I don’t believe that is true but I do think he may have inspired other wine importers to try their hand at writing as well since several subsequently wrote similar books of their own- though none as good as the Lynch original.

Today Anthony Lynch writes and edits the Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant newsletters, which he noted could be a bit daunting, considering his father’s reputation as an author. “It’s a lot of pressure; he’s a great writer,” he said.

Mr. Lynch the younger has also taken over blending duties for some of the custom wines the company produces. Might he put his name on a label one day? Would there be an “Anthony Lynch Selection?” There would not. “My dad had the merit of creating a brand that wine drinkers can trust, and if I can uphold that through my own work, offering ‘Selected by KL’ bottlings is the greatest honor,” Mr. Lynch replied.

Anthony Lynch may be the most modest scion I’ve ever met. The business his father built is clearly in very good hands.

Anthony Lynch in the Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant Berkeley store; the 2025 Charles Joguet Chinon Rosé ($27) one of the first rosés his father ever imported- a delicious pink from Chinon in the Loire Valley that I purchased and shared with Berkeley pals who declared upon tasting it “We need to up our rosé game.”

I was in Cute Town One ever so briefly last week to celebrate the landmark birthday of a friend– which meant I spent more time in the cute town than I did in vineyards or winery tasting rooms. In addition to a celebratory meal at the ever reliable the girl & the fig in the town of Sonoma, we opened sparkling wines at a dinner at her home.

My friend loves all kinds of sparkling wine - she once worked at a California sparkling wine company. One evening she opened two bottles of sparkling wine with a pair of specialty sparkling wine pliers obtained from Piper Sonoma, the California sparkling wine house.

First, she opened a bottle of Mumm Sparkling Brut Rose ($20) a pleasantly creamy fruity frothy wine then another California sparkler I’d never heard of before: Breathless Blancs de Blancs ($22), a slightly toasty, light-bodied pleasant-enough sparkler made by a trio of sisters in Healdsburg. Its label—an old-fashioned pin-up girl astride an exploding cork – was more memorable than the wine itself. However mine may be a minority view- according to the Breathless website this particular wine was named “Best in Class” although both class and voters went unnamed.

More notable than either of the wines were my friend’s well-utilized sparkling wine pliers- a tool I’ve never owned. My friend explained that she had trouble opening bottles of Champagne and the pliers – which looked much like a regular pair of pliers- made removing Champagne corks a snap. Actually it was more like a pop than a snap since the pliers made the cork explode in a locker-room like style.

How is it I have lived so long and consumed so much Champagne without having ever employed a pair of Champagne pliers or seeing a sommelier putting said pliers to use in a restaurant? Did professionals employ such tools? I decided to ask a couple top pros.

Master Sommelier Pascaline Lepeltier, Partner and Beverage Director of Chambers restaurant in New York, told me that she has a pair of these pliers but rarely utilizes them save for when the cork “is really slippery and tight” while Carlin Karr, the Wine and Beverage Director of Denver-based Frasca Hospitality Group, like me, has never seen Champagne pliers before.

Since I do encounter particularly tight Champagne corks every now and again perhaps I should consider investing in said Champagne pliers one day- but right now I’m thinking more about the identity of that third Sonoma town. Travelers and fans of Sonoma care to weigh in?

Next Up: A chat with the scion of a California-based wine importer and merchant.

Scenes from my recent Sonoma sojourn

For most pink wine buyers the color comes first. Place of origin isn’t important (though Provence is preferred) and the grape is mostly irrelevant (ask someone to name the grapes of Provence). The shade – preferably a pale peachy salmon- is paramount. And a cool package is a plus.

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The charming Mr. Ax (whom his guests call “Manny” so I will too) poses musical questions to his equally charming, equally talented guests who are by turns thought-provoking and playful. Although the podcast debuted only a few months ago, Manny has already amassed a roster of boldface musical talent among his featured guests. Recent guests include superstar cellist Yo Yo Ma (Manny’s dear friend); Nicholas Britell, the award-winning composer who wrote the stunning soundtrack to Succession as well scores for The Big Short and If Beale Street Could Talk; and David Hyde Pierce aka Niles Crane from Frasier with whom Manny plays a game called Animal or Instrument.

The conversation is casual – it feels like you’re eavesdropping on a chat between two friends- if said friends happen to be musical superstars. The duo will play music (the Manny and Yo Yo duet was my favorite) and field questions from listeners with queries such as “How do pianists with small hands like Alicia de la Rocha handle the really big pieces that need big hands?” and “If I like John Williams’s music what concert pieces might I enjoy?” Both host and guest supply answers. To the latter question Britell suggested Elgar and Holst while Manny chose Strauss.

As one might expect of a show with “Happy Hour” in the title Manny asks his guests to name his or her favorite drink. A few cite wine while a surprising number, including composer Gabriela Ortiz, choose Mezcal although Ortiz also likes a “good dry white.” Britell is a fan of “red wine- French reds, Italian reds- Bordeaux, Barolo.”

For his part, Manny loves the wines of John Kongsgaard, the Napa Valley wine producer as famous for his support of the classical music world as for his Chardonnays, Syrahs and Cabernets. When musicians play at the Kongsgaard estate they are paid in wine, Manny noted in an email. “We love his fantastic Chardonnay, and he has made other whites, which we also adore- a Sauvignon Blanc, an Albariño, and a new blend that is just starting out.”

Manny enjoys less expensive wines too (Kongsgaard wines can be pricey) and named a couple highly affordable wines such as La Vieille Ferme rosé, which costs about $10 a bottle and Cava, the sparkling wine of Spain. “We like a lot of Cava,” he said.

Since Manny didn’t name a specific brand, I decided to do a bit of Cava shopping myself to see if I could find a wine worthy of a musical superstar. I stopped by one of my favorite New York stores -the modestly-monikered “Some Good Wine” where proprietor Jeremy Block, a classical music lover, suggested the Amaltea de Loxarel Brut Nature Reserva Cava ($21) a crisp, minerally biodynamic sparkler that was zippy and bright – not unlike Manny himself!

www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/classical-music-happy-hour

Photo: Emanuel Ax photographed by Nigel Parry

y

I had so many questions about Bob’s post-Advocate life but decided to keep our Q&A brief.

Do you still rate wine- even if it’s only in your head?

I suppose it is impossible not to “rate” anything I drink, but mostly I consume wine for pleasure without assigning numbers. Frequently, friends ask “What would you rate this?”... I politely decline.

Are there any wines in your cellar right now that you regret buying? (And don’t drink?)

Or wines that you regret not buying MORE of?

I bought excessive amounts of Bordeaux. Of course they are fun to drink, but their aging curve is so damn long, and at my age, patience is no longer a virtue. Would have bought more Grüner Veltliners, especially from Pichler, Knoll, and Hirtzberger.

What wines do you drink on a Tuesday night?

Tuesday night wines are the same as every weekday.... Châteauneuf-du-Pape, California Rhône Rangers, mature Bordeaux (1982-1998) for reds. Whites usually are Austrians, Condrieu, Marcassin and Aubert Chardonnays and of course Champagne (Billecart-Salmon and Pol Roger rule this house).

Your take on the 1982 Bordeaux launched you onto the world stage. If someone wanted to be Robert M. Parker Jr today (!) what wines or wine region do you think he or she should focus on and/or discover?

(It’s) impossible to get the public’s attention without focusing on the classic wine regions of Europe and of course California. Newcomers would do well to look more closely at Spain, Portugal, southern Italy, Argentina, Oregon, Eastern Europe (Bulgaria, Hungry, Romania, and Georgia).

What wine writers or wine books are you reading?

Wine reading-yes, but not a lot. Tend to follow the wine business news more than ratings, but still am fond of Lisa Perotti-Brown, Jeb Dunnuck, and rarely, the Wine Advocate. I read incessantly, usually two books at a time-one fiction - spy/counterterrorism and one non-fiction (history).

What about having a day a month or year wherein you name a 100-point wine?

Would not care for a 100-point wine day. Much of the criticism of me was because people naturally focused too much on scores. I always hoped, in vain, the tasting note/description was more important. Also, it was so emotional to give a 100 score, and those emotions are personal and impossible to transfer.

Tell me more about the filming in your house! Is there a documentary about you in the works?

The documentary (not yet titled) is due out by year’s end. Lawrence Elman, a London-based documentary filmmaker (he just finished a documentary on Jesse Jackson) is doing it along with a French production team led by Julien Courson.

If Bob is game for a second round, do Wine in Words readers have any questions they would like me to ask?

Bob and his beloved bulldog at home in Monkton, MD some years ago.

A few years into our working relationship Bob got too busy to write his F&W column. Around that time I began writing my own F&W column “Wine Matters” but every now and again I’d lobby Bob to write a magazine feature story. I would give him a call (we conducted business over the phone in those days) and if Bob was traveling (which was often) I talked with his wonderful office manager the late Joan Passman. Joan was much-beloved by winemakers everywhere– and woe betide any winemaker who was rude to Joan. And yes, when Bob had the time, he’d write a (great) story.

Once in a blue moon, Bob and I would get together for a meal- including lunch at his favorite Chinese restaurant Mark’s Duck House in Arlington, VA where Bob gathered with friends and winemakers, eating dim sum and drinking great wines. Bob estimated he ate at Mark’s Duck House over 50 times- I can’t even begin to calculate the number of wines Bob and his dining companions consumed.

Bob and I also met at Veritas which at the time was one of the most sought-after wine destinations in New York, owned by the late Park B. Smith and the late Steve Verlin. Park was one of the most remarkable collectors I’ve ever met, and he was also Bob’s dear friend. As Bob said, when the two men met in the late 1980s at a D.C. steakhouse it was “love at first sight.” I felt the same way when Bob introduced me to Park.

Park B. Smith was a giant in the home furnishings industry (Park B. Smith was also his company name) and also an unofficial mayor of Châteauneuf-du-Pape- he was even given ceremonial keys to the village in recognition of his devotion to Châteauneuf-du-Pape wines. Park’s collection of Châteauneuf-du-Pape was legendary; he probably drank even more Châteauneuf-du-Pape than Bob. Park had not one but five cellars in his Connecticut country home- where I was a guest more than once and a running joke among Park’s friends was that Park allowed guests to choose any wine from his cellar (which was prodigious) but you always got Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

Bob also introduced me to some top spine surgeons - members of the Wine & Spine Society of which Bob was an honorary member. I’d injured my back in a fall and Bob, who suffered from back problems, thought I could not only get great medical advice but also drink great wine if we all got together for dinner one night at Charleston, his favorite Baltimore restaurant.

I wrote about that dinner in Food & Wine but that’s a story for another time – perhaps another Substack. Suffice it to say the dinner was but one of many examples of how lucky I’ve been to be able to call myself a Friend of Bob.

Stay tuned for Part Two- My Recent Q&A with Bob himself.

Bob and me at Veritas Back in the Day

Bob at home in Monkton, Maryland.

The store was empty save for three staffers and me – one staff member sat at the cash register in front while two colleagues sat in the back. None of them acknowledged my entrance nor inquired as to whether I needed help.

I began browsing the German and Austrian wines, proceeded to wines from the Loire until I reached Burgundy where I began browsing a selection of Bourgogne Blancs. I’m more of a two not three figure Burgundy buyer and Bourgogne Blancs in the $30 to $60 range are my sweet spot. The staff maintained a collective silence. Did I seem too self-sufficient? Too poor? I was wearing sneakers and jeans and looking at Bourgogne Blancs after all.

I noticed a few Bourgogne Blancs from good producers and noted anew how much prices have risen for the most “basic” wines from top producers. At $50 plus a bottle they were easily ten dollars more than they were just a few years ago. There are multiple reasons for this monetary increase including a tiny 2024 harvest due to challenging weather but there is also the fact that Burgundy wines are incredibly chic – unlike, say, the wines of the Loire.

I considered the 2023 Benjamin Leroux Bourgogne Blanc but kept browsing – not because Leroux doesn’t make terrific wines (he does) but at $54 the price was a bit steep. A man and a woman entered the store and began browsing near me. Although they were nicely attired, they were likewise ignored. I was relieved. Apparently, the staff didn’t care about anyone- it wasn’t just me.

I moved closer to the staffer seated at a desk in the back, wondering if proximity would force a chat. But the staffer maintained a studious silence. I went on to examine some overpriced sparkling wines. I’d been in the store for nearly ten minutes - though it felt longer. The man and woman were still looking at wines, unattended by staff, when I left.

As I headed uptown, I considered the lamentations of wine retailers who’d noted their sales were down, that people weren’t buying as much wine as they once did. I wondered: Would their sales improve if they hired staffers who cared when customers entered their stores?

Subscribers and readers- have you had recent wine retail experiences-good or bad - that you’d like to share? I’d love to hear! And for paid subscribers, look for my email about a terrific and terrifically priced Bourgogne Blanc that I found at another store last week.

Photos below: Two wine shops I love.! First: Some years ago at Frenchie wine shop in Paris and second, Knead Wine, a cool pizza-wine shop combo in Middleburg, VA.

I discovered Flinck cheese at Scott & Joe, the self-proclaimed “Gayest Cheese Shop in America,” in Nyack, New York and immediately fell in love with the orange-hued, firm-textured nutty-tasting aged cow’s milk cheese from Holland with a sportscar-like moniker. It’s a type of aged Gouda and although I’ve had plenty of Gouda in my life, I’d never paired wine with Flinck, so I emailed Scott to ask for a wine recommendation. (Scott & Joe also serve a few wines at their bistro/cheese shop.)

Scott suggested a “low tannin” Côtes du Rhône which I assumed meant a red wine. (Almost all Côtes du Rhône wines are red and few white wines are described in terms of tannin.) I’m not a big fan of red wine with cheese- largely for reasons of tannin (as Scott noted) and generally higher alcohol levels. I find white wine to be more cheese-flexible and since I drink more white than red, it’s also the wine I’m likely to have on hand.

That’s a critical part of the wine and cheese pairing process in my house: I open the wine we plan to drink with dinner first then pair it with whatever cheese we have on hand. Cheese is almost always the prelude to a meal and not the main event- although when it’s a really good and really expensive cheese like Flinck ($38 a pound) it might warrant a starring role.

Was there a white wine that Scott liked with the Flinck? I asked in an email, admitting I didn’t care for red wine with cheese. When I didn’t hear back from Scott I turned to my favorite former cheese monger, Gayle Martin who owned the marvelous Plum Plums Cheese store in Pound Ridge, New York with wine importer husband Michael Riahi until they decamped to Stockholm- thereby improving their quality of life and breaking cheese lovers’ hearts. (The Plum Plums grilled cheese sandwich was one of the best I’ve ever had.)

Gayle is also a big fan of cheese and white wine-she suggested a Grüner Veltliner might pair well with my Flinck. “White wines run such a broad spectrum of acidity, minerality and fruitiness that makes it easier to find a pairing with any style of cheese,” she wrote in an email, adding “Cheese is fat, and fat needs acidity to cut through, so that you end up with the taste of the cheese marrying with the taste of the wine and nothing else in the way. Ever try Parmigiano Reggiano with a white Burgundy? Surprise!” Was that last line a taunt? I pictured Gayle and Michael drinking great white Burgundies with Swedish cheese in a fashionable apartment in Stockholm and tried to tamp down my jealous thoughts.

Gayle added a few ideas about red wine and cheese - much like my own: “Pairing with red wines is much more precarious because you’re dealing with tannins that can knock down and overwhelm the delicate nuance of the milk flavors in cheese.” Gayle pairs only aged reds with cheese – preferably wines from Burgundy or Spain.

I may not know as much about cheese as Gayle and I don’t drink nearly enough white Burgundy or live in Stockholm, but I’m going to find some Västerbottensost, pair it with a good Meursault and an Ingmar Bergman movie and that will be (almost) enough.

Below: Gayle Martin and Michael Riahi leading their best life in Stockholm.

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I always opt for the newest versions of milk and wine (with a few vinous exceptions) and I’m quite vigilant about checking the labels of both. Of course, I realize this isn’t true for many shoppers- including my husband who has been known to bring home a chicken whose sell-by date is the same day as his purchase. Such a close date signals poultry that’s probably been shoved aside by people like me in search of a newer bird.

But there are times when an older vintage is the only available option and sometimes that even includes rosé – a wine whose newness is regularly touted by retailers in ways that non-rosé producers could only dream of having their wines ballyhooed.

There are signs in wine stores each spring announcing the arrival of this year’s pinks- though not yet. We are in rosé “shoulder season” where I live- and most of the 2025 wines have yet to arrive in shops. If I wanted to drink pink – as I did last week thanks to some summer-like weather- I’d have to buy a rosé that was fresh last year.

Of course some rosés famously improve with age. The rosés from the Bandol region of France can be quite long-lived, particularly the wines of Domaine Tempier whose Bandol Rose is the standard-bearer for well-aged pink. It’s a wine I’ve enjoyed for many years- both in its youth and middle-age but it wasn’t one of the wines for sale at my local retailer since it’s made in limited quantities and thus long since sold out.

There was, however, a rosé on the store shelf that I’d purchased in multiples last summer and spring – a wine that I’ve consistently liked year in and year out- and best of all, there were several bottles of it (still) around: the 2024 Muga rosado, a pink from one of Rioja’s most-respected producers. A blend of red and white grapes, it has long been one of the most highly regarded Spanish pinks.

I brought the wine along when we dined with a friend who was as impressed with it as I was-all over again. It was just as fresh and lively and floral as I remembered it being in 2025 and at $15 a bottle it was also a good buy.

It’s chilly outside as I’m typing these words, but the forecast shows a warming trend. I’ll be heading to the wine shop again soon for more bottles of last year’s rosado.

Two signs of spring: a delicious pink and a joyful Pembroke Welsh Corgi.

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I’m not referring to world events but to Wine & War: The French, the Nazis and the Battle for France’s Greatest Treasure a book published 25 years ago by American journalists Don and Petie Kladstrup. The husband-and-wife team had the terrific idea of telling the true story of the very resourceful, very brave (and sometimes very lucky) French vintners who saved their wines, vineyards and cellars from destruction by the Nazis during World War II.

When the book was first published in 2001 it won rave reviews and was translated into multiple languages. It has continued to sell well according to Don Kladstrup who, along with his wife Petie, continued to write books, mostly focused on France, where they make their home. Their latest joint effort, The Last Empress of France, tells the story of Empress Eugénie, wife of Napoleon III.

Although I read Wine & War when it was first published, I read the book again recently with equal parts pleasure and awe – so many great stories, so many brave vintners- so many stories I’d never read anywhere else.

My favorite story of all was that of Gaston Huet, Loire Valley vintner and German prisoner of war. Gaston Huet, proprietor of the famed Vouvray estate Domaine Huet was an officer in the French Army when he was captured and sent to a German prison camp. During his five-year imprisonment Huet managed to plan a party for his fellow prisoners to boost their morale and even obtained enough wine so that each man might have a glass. That feat alone would make Mr. Huet a hero but when the war was over, he walked all the way back to Vouvray and made a 1945 wine that is ranked among the best of the 20^th century.

Gaston Huet was also instrumental in the creation of the Kladstrups’ book. He “opened our eyes to the fact there was something else to write about when it comes to wine,” said Mr. Kladstrup adding that he and his wife had been warned that “no one” would talk to them but they found otherwise. There were many vintners who not only wanted to talk but were eager to do so.

Why had it taken two American journalists to tell the stories? Why hadn’t a French writer tackled the topic? I asked. “French collaboration with the Nazis is still a sensitive issue here; many people don’t want to talk about it,” Mr. Kladstrup replied, adding, “Also, most wine writers in France aren’t really journalists, not in our sense of the word. They are into tastings, analyzing wines and writing up reviews.”

Domaine Huet no longer belongs to the Huets. After Gaston Huet died, the estate was sold to an American, Anthony Hwang. The estate’s longtime winemaker Noël Pinguet (and Gaston’s son-in-law) remained some years after it changed hands but eventually resigned; today the estate is managed by Sarah and Hugo Hwang and a French winemaking team.

Huet Vourays range from bone dry to quite sweet (Sec, Demi-Sec and Moelleux) and are produced from three signature vineyards (Le Mont, Clos de Bourg and Le Haut-Lieu). They are not only the benchmark wines of Vouvray but some of the most affordable great wines made in France. Case in point: the 2023 Domaine Huet Clos du Bourg Sec Vouvray I purchased for a mere $40 a bottle. A rich, full-bodied rather heady white with a firm mineral edge, it is delicious right now but will surely be even better with age.

Indeed, Huet Vouvrays are famously age worthy; when I bought my first bottles two decades ago, a New York wine merchant refused to sell them to me unless I pledged to wait several years to open my bottles. (I only partially complied.)

I don’t have any aged Huet wines in my cellar right now, but I plan to hold on to my young Huet wines for a while- and in the meantime I might try wrangling an invitation to Don and Petie Kladstrup’s house. Their cellar is a veritable treasure trove of great wines including many Huet wines from the ‘50s, ‘60s and ’70s and even a 1919 Vouvray, a gift from Gaston Huet himself. “The dilemma is finding a moment special enough to open it,” said Don Kladstrup of the wine. Would a visit from this Substack writer qualify?

Introducing a friend to a favorite wine can be just as rewarding – or problematic- although my ability to pair people with bottles is vastly superior to my love proxy skills. In fact, some people have not only liked the wines that I’ve suggested, sometimes their “like” has turned into love.

The following are three such matches I made with three different friends in recent months.

A few weeks before Christmas my friend Tom asked me to recommend a good sparkling (not Champagne) wine he could take to dinner with friends. I’m a big fan of Crémant- sparkling wines made by the same method as Champagne but in French wine regions outside of Champagne. The Lucien Albrecht Brut Rosé Crémant d’Alsace has long been one of my favorite sparkling wines. Made entirely from Pinot Noir, this creamy, fruity immensely food-friendly sparkler is usually priced at less than $20 a bottle. (I paid $18.) Tom brought a bottle of the Crémant to the dinner and reported that it was a big hit with his hosts. It was also a hit with Tom himself; he liked it so much he bought a case the next month.

My friend Christine loves Pinot Noir, and I’ve shared many a Pinot with her over the years- but there are just a few Pinots Christine truly loves. The 2023 Roserock Drouhin Oregon Eola- Amity Hills Pinot Noir ($38) was one such example. A toothsome red with snappy red fruit and juicy acidity, lightly framed in French oak, it’s made by Véronique Drouhin of Domaine Drouhin Oregon and Maison Joseph Drouhin in Burgundy. Véronique’s father Robert Drouhin was one of the earliest pioneers in the Oregon Pinot Noir and Véronique crafts reliably great Pinot in both Oregon and France.

My third and most recent match was between my friend Frankie and the 2023 Isabelle et Denis Pommier Chablis ($30) a deliciously ripe, round yet mineral-edged Chablis from a husband-and-wife winemaking team who consistently turn out terrifically characterful wines each year. Frankie loved this Chablis so much that when I stopped by for a visit a few weeks after we shared the wine he asked if I’d brought another bottle along. The wine was just that delicious and Frankie is just that direct.

Meanwhile, I’m making dinner plans with the friends who I introduced to one another (and who are celebrating their anniversary this month). I’ll serve them a wine that I like in the hope that they’ll like (love?) it as well.

What wines have you introduced to friends that they’ve loved just as much as you do? Or a wine that failed to thrill them as much as it did you?

Once upon a time, a long time ago I was a sales representative for a wine wholesaler trying to sell Spanish and Portuguese wine to uninterested wine retailers and restaurants in New York. Never mind that my portfolio included such superstar producers as López de Heredia - I was only able to sell Spanish wines to (a few) Spanish restaurant accounts.

I did, however, have an ace in the hole according to my sales manager whose name I’ve happily forgotten. That ace was a certain (name redacted) cheap California wine in my portfolio that I could sell to restaurants for a wholesale cost of five cents a glass.

The price of a glass of wine in New York back then was probably $5 or $6 so this wasn’t quite the boondoggle that it would be today when the price of a glass of wine is $20 or more in many Manhattan restaurants, but it was still very cheap.

As all wholesale wine sales reps and restaurant professionals know, a BTG placement in a restaurant is a big score. It means ongoing sales of multiple cases a week. Some restaurants might even keep the same house wine on their list for weeks – which means multiple re-orders for the lucky sales rep. And while I did sell the occasional case of wine from Rioja or Dão, I never managed to land a single by the glass placement of that five-cent wine. Perhaps it was because I admitted too often to buyers that the wine, while cheap, was not very good.

Fast forward a few decades and the wine world today is a much bigger, much broader-minded place. Spanish wines can be found on all kinds of great restaurant wine lists and in cool retail stores. This is especially true of López de Heredia wines- thanks to a new generation of wine drinkers and buyers.

A younger generation of wine lovers became “spellbound” by López de Heredia wines around 2013 and 2014 when the estates acquired “a cachet beyond benchmark status” according to Vinicius Rodrigues, the Iberian and South American portfolio manager for Bowler Wines in New York. Bowler began distributing López de Heredia wines in 2011 and importing them in 2025.

While many Rioja producers chased a more modern style a few decades ago – substituting new French oak barrels for traditional American oak- López de Heredia remained true to its historical roots. Mr. Rodrigues compared the wines of López de Heredia to those of Bartolo Mascarello, the great arch-traditionalist winemaker who rejected a similar push for modernity in his native Piedmont.

Indeed, no winery in Rioja is more “old world” than López de Heredia- and few Rioja wines are aged as long as theirs. Although many Rioja wines are aged in both barrel and bottle years before they’re released- the wines of López de Heredia are in a category unto themselves. Even their white and rosé wines undergo extended aging before they’re sold. The cult-worthy López de Heredia rosé may be a dozen years old before it reaches store shelves where it quickly sells out.

López de Heredia wines are exquisitely ready to drink upon release- and given the amount of time they’ve spent in the winery’s cellar (not producing income) they’re remarkably reasonably priced. The 2016 López de Heredia Cubillo Crianza that I purchased last month cost a mere $28 dollars a bottle.

Lush and approachable with notes of earth and spice and the soft vanilla aromas of American oak, this Tempranillo-dominant red was beguiling though rather structured and even with decade of age it still seemed rather young, so I decanted it for twenty minutes or so. When I noted this fact to Mr. Rodrigues he told me it wasn’t necessary. “I don’t think the wines need decanting- they’ve already been aged,” he said.

I decided to go back to the store for a second bottle of Cubillo to try without decanting it first. But the 2016 was sold out; there was only the 2017. I bought that instead. Should I resist decanting it too? I asked Mr. Rodrigues. The 2016 Cubillo was “a more classic wine while the 2017 had more ‘oomph’ and more alcohol too,” he said, “I think I wouldn’t decant the 2017 but I can see the 2016 getting a boost from the extra oxygen,” he added.

That sounded reasonable though not quite as reasonable as Mr. Rodrigues’s next note. “It’s wine- who cares-do what feels right to you!”

I offer the same advice to readers of this column. Drink what – and how - you like! Salud!

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Most people are never accorded such heartfelt tributes by friends famous and otherwise– including the man whose name appeared on the label of a wine I purchased recently: the 2024 Borell-Diehl Müller Thurgau labeled “A Willie Glückstern Selection.”

Willie Glückstern was a colorful and sometimes controversial figure in New York wine in the 1990s and early 2000s who died last October at 76 years of age, seemingly forgotten by the wine world. Aside from a publication called Ilovetheupperwestside, I found no mention of Glückstern in the wine press and his memorial in New York was only sparsely attended according to Evan Spingarn, one of two men who spoke at the service. (Evan’s brother Jason Spingarn was the other.)

Spingarn, who called Glückstern “one of the last great characters in the New York wine business” considered Glückstern both mentor and friend. It was Glückstern who inspired Spingarn to enter the wine business three decades ago.

The two men worked together in various capacities over the years – first at Nancy’s Wines for Food store on New York’s Upper West Side and later when Glückstern began importing German wine. As the German and Special European Selection Portfolio Manager for Bowler Wines, Spingarn managed Glückstern’s portfolio. The two men also collaborated on the book The Wine Avenger – Spingarn recalled typing the manuscript and often telling the intemperate Glückstern “You can’t say that!”

Although his friend and mentor is no longer alive Spingarn decided to keep his name on the labels of the wines he’d scouted as a tribute to Glückstern. How long would he do this? “For the foreseeable future,” Spingarn replied.

What of the wine that I bought- the wine that Glückstern had chosen so many years ago? In a word, delightful. Refreshing and bright, this dry white with a light citrus note was incredibly easy to drink with an incredibly reasonable price. ($14)

The Borell-Diehl wines were among the first wines in the Willie Glückstern portfolio which was quite small in the beginning Spingarn recalled but it included great names like Clemens Busch and Schaefer-Frolich (the two are now represented by other importers). While both producers are considered blue chip today, they were unknown when Glückstern began importing them years ago. Glückstern certainly “had a nose for talent” as Spingarn said.

Today the Borell-Diehl Müller Thurgau is the best-selling German wine in the entire Bowler portfolio by far and while winery owners Annette and Thomas Diehl who were Glückstern’s first contacts are still active, their son George Diehl is Spingarn’s chief contact now. Importantly, the Muller-Thurgau is one of several Borell-Diehl wines that are packaged in liter bottles. “Willie loved liters,” Spingarn recalled.

So do most of the people I know- including my friends Frankie and Sam whom I invited to our house after Isiah’s memorial. We shared a bottle of Chablis and since I had the Borrell-Diehl bottle open from the day before, I gave them a taste of that as well. Sam loved it so much I gave her the rest of the bottle to take home.

Perhaps Willie Glückstern didn’t get a lavish sendoff like Isiah did but thanks to Spingarn he did get something wonderful too: an acknowledgement of his acumen on every bottle. A Willie Glückstern Selection is more than a wine label – it’s a wonderful tribute from a true friend.

Photos courtesy of Evan Spingarn. Photo (left to right) Evan Spingarn, Willie Glückstern and Nancy Maniscalco, owner of Nancy’s Wines for Food, New York.