As a reporter, I’m constantly barraged by press releases and other forms of information. Sometimes it’s contradictory. And then you always have to wonder who the source is and if it’s trustworthy. The big question of the past year in the wine industry has been, of course, who’s financially up, who’s down and where it’s going. As I’ve long said, none of us knows with certainty what’s going on at any individual winery unless we’re the CFO and can see the books! Which we obviously can’t. Thus, what we know is largely anecdotal. Here’s the conventional wisdom:

- Anything over a certain price ($12-$15, in most scenarios) is dead. This has just been confirmed by Jon Fredrikson, at Gomberg Fredrikson, who reports that “California wine shipments dropped in 2009 for the first time in 16 years,” especially for “wines above $15 a bottle.” I have used Gomberg Fredrikson as a trusted source for many years.

- Nothing appears to be bulletproof, including (or maybe especially) the cults. Everybody’s reducing prices, but you can only go so low.

- People haven’t stopped drinking. Far from it. They’re just drinking cheaper.

Everywhere I turn, I hear “We’re scaling back…the bottom’s falling out,” even at wineries owned by very rich people. At Wine Enthusiast’s Wine Star Awards dinner last Monday, I talked to lots of senior execs (in some cases very senior) at wine companies and distributor companies, and everybody said the same thing: dead or near dead in the super-ultrapremium category. Which leads to the biggest question of all: If this is true, how come we’re not seeing a wave of bankruptcies or sales? Which we haven’t. Winery failures over the last 12-15 months in California don’t seem any more frequent than usual. I asked people this question, and the typical answer was, “They’re riding it out.”

Yes. That’s what companies usually do during downturns. They lay off staff, cut costs, and hope that down turns up after a while. But what we have in America is unprecedented. While there’s lots of hoping and praying things turn up, there’s no guarantee they will. What if things don’t? After a while, even the most stalwart owner will have to give up. Maybe some of the billionaires out there can afford to ride the tiger for years. But most families who own wineries are not super-wealthy. What do they do if, in another six months or a year, things don’t turn around?

I would think that by this summer we’ll have much more clarity about the ground situation in California. Since there doesn’t seem to be any improvement in the country’s economic situation, with experts predicting continued 10% unemployment (much higher if you count under-employment) and a federal deficit that the Congress seems unable to fix, it’s hard for me to imagine the average wine consumer thinking, “Okay, I’m feeling better, I’ll start spending $40 again for a nice bottle.”

The wine industry understands it’s coming through the worst market in its life. They’re hoping that 2010 will be better. But they know that events ultimately are far beyond their control.

Speaking of profits, I’m moderating a panel at the Wine Writer’s Symposium called “Wine Writers, Ethics & Income Streams.” They told me the subtext is “How to make money through social media.” As someone who’s earned (at last count) $1,495,989.59 through this blog (O.K., I’m exaggerating, the actual figure is $0), I thought that’s pretty ironic. I do have some thoughts on monetizing this stuff, but I’m not going to steal my thunder. It’s nice to have developed a secondary reputation as an “expert” in blogging. Just shows how bizarre life is.

Back in Oakland afrer an intense 4 days in New York for Wine Enthusiast’s Wine Star Awards and subsequent meetings and tastings at the magazine’s HQs in Westchester.

I’m very proud of our W.S.A. program and how far it’s come in ten years to become one of the most exciting and important wine industry events in the world. Held every January in the inspiring Beaux Arts edifice of the New York Public Library’s main branch, on 42nd Street at Fifth Avenue, the awards is a gathering place for movers and shakers to come together, socialize and have fun.

I don’t much like wearing a tuxedo, the recommended attire for gentlemen, but I like everything else about the evening. I tend to get a little nervous when I’m onstage introducing my nominee/winners, addressing a well-fueled audience of 500 that can be talking and laughing. But I used to do standup comedy in San Francisco, a city of hecklers, and I learned a few tricks about leaning into the mike and throwing your voice and making people recognize your presence through force and authority. Audiences respond to authority, especially when it’s amplified.

I met many new people in addition to seeing lots of old friends and acquaintances. Among the former was Robert Hill Smith, who heads Yalumba. We kind of bonded, and he walked me through a tasting of some of his wines, which impressed the heck out of me. I also had a nice chat with Ted Baseler, who now heads up Ste. Michelle Wine Estates but was (as I recall) Number Two when I knew him back in the day. Scott McCleod, Rubicon’s winemaker, who was our Winemaker of the Year, had been my nominee. We sat next to each other for dinner. What a charming man, so shy and mellow and smart.

Presenting the award to Big Scott

Roger Trinchero, CEO of our American Winery of the Year, Trinchero Family Estates, is strong and dignified and warm, a living personification of the soul of Napa Valley’s founding fathers. Each winner prepared a video about himself or his company, and the funniest of the night — indeed, the funniest ever — was Josh Wesson’s. He was our Retailer of the Year (for Best Cellars at A&P), and his little movie was a takeoff on the pomposity and silliness that can occur in selling wine. And then there was our Innovator of the Year, Gary Vaynerchuck, of Wine Library TV fame.

I had mixed reactions to his acceptance speech, as did others, but it certainly was an apt demonstration of Gary’s remarkable self-esteem. Afterward, Larry Stone (Rubicon’s GM and an old friend) and I decided to have a little fun. (Neither of us had ever physically met Gary, although Gary and I have had exchanges through this blog.) We introduced ourselves to him, but switched identities: I was Larry, and Larry was Steve. Gary shook my hand and said how nice it was to meet the famous Larry Stone. He likewise shook Larry’s “Steve’s” hand and uttered a similar nicety. Then Larry explained the ruse, and Gary, without missing a beat, replied, “Of course I knew. I was just wondering how far you’d take it.” A smart guy, quick on his feet.

Martha Stewart was there, but sadly I didn’t get the chance to make her acquaintance. And our Lifetime Achievement Award winner, Harvey Chaplin, president of Southern Wine & Spirits, gave what was for me the warmest, most heartfelt speech. Although his was last, and the hour was late, everybody sat listening with rapt attention.

At evening’s end, we were all exhilirated but tired. Most of us also were jet-lagged. As we were staying that night in Westchester, Wine Enthusiast’s publisher, Adam Strum, had arranged for a white stretch limo to drive eight of us north. We piled in, well past midnight. The driver turned on the ignition; a giant cloud of white smoke erupted from under the hood. He got out and started tinkering. I joined him. He was completely baffled, and said, “I’m a driver, not a mechanic.” Uh oh. He unscrewed the radiator cap. Suddenly, it was Old Failthful in midtown Manhattan; we ran for cover. Then he trotted off toward Times Square, muttering something about finding a “bodega” where he could buy bottled water for the radiator. Somehow, miraculously, we secured another limo, and finally got to bed at 3 a.m. I didn’t get much sleep before meetings resumed early the next morning, but coffee, grit and intellectual stimulation go a long way toward combating fatigue.

The final event at HQ was a fabulous tasting of Robert Mondavi wines with their longtime winemaker, Genevieve Janssens, a talented and humane person whom I wrote about in my last book, New Classic Winemakers of California. Genevieve always speaks of her dedication to preserving “Mr. Mondavi’s vision,” and you can see and hear his ethereal presence through and around her. And such brilliant wines. Constellation has happily given Genevieve everything she needs to build success upon success. And after all, she is able to work with the fruit of Tokalon, a great growth — possibly, the great growth — of California.

After the tasting, we piled back into a limo (black, this time) for the ride to JFK and home. Happily, this time, the car didn’t break down.

It’s about 9 p.m. Wed. night in California. I’m just back. To readers and especially those who commented but whose comments I couldn’t put up immediately, my apologies. I’ve been on the road and in planes and simply unable to get online access. I will have a new post up in the morning (Thursday) California time. Thank you so much for continuing to read this blog and for taking the time to offer your comments. You don’t know how much that means to me.

ZAP, the annual Zinfandel tasting at Fort Mason, is this week. I haven’t gone for years. At the last one I went to, along with 20,000 other people, all the toilets overflowed, not a happy thing under any circumstances, much less when everyone’s drinking.

I used to actually drink Zinfandel, rather than just critically review it, which is the main reason why it passes my lips these days. The first Zinfandel I have any record of having had was from Wine and The People, a 1976 bottling whose origin is listed as “Sonoma.” Not Valley or County; this was before labeling laws were initiated by the Feds. I must have bought it in San Francisco, where I was living, in 1979, although I did not open it for another four years. I remember the wine store clerk explaining to me what Wine and the People was, but I don’t remember anything he said. I turn now to Google; find tidbits, like eroded artifacts culled from an archeological dig. Wine and the People was located in “an old warehouse” in Berkeley.  Originally, it was “a home winemaker supply store and later on Berkeley’s first licensed winery [and] a meeting place for many budding winemakers, many now famous names.” The name referred to the fact that you — a person, anybody — could go there and make and bottle your own wine. (A kind of precursor of Crushpad?) It was founded by a gentleman named Peter Brehm, who now runs Brehm Vineyards.

Here are my exact notes on that Zinfandel:

“Date – 6/8/83
Color – rose, garnet, salmon rim
Nose – strong Zin; spicy, cedar/eucalyptus, vanilla & cantaloupe
Taste – powerful and alcoholic. Tannic. Fruit almost overwhelmed. Austere, elegant. Long finish – several minutes.
Food – steak.
Price – $10 (in 1979)”

A few things. Concerning the “salmon rim,” this refers, of course, to the meniscus, the outer edge of the wine in the glass. That Zin was nearly seven years old, and losing color. Concerning the “nose” (where did I learn to use that old-fashioned synecdoche? Broadbent?), I have no idea what I meant by “cantaloupe.” “Fruit almost overwhelmed” obviously refers to the tannins. But then, as the alcohol was 13.5%, it would not have been the kind of super-fruity Zinfandel we see today. (So why did I say it tasted “alcoholic”?)

Interestingly, the next Zinfandel I tasted, two months later, also was a 1976, Ridge’s Lytton Springs, from Dry Creek Valley, and it cost me all of $8 when I bought it, also in 1979. I liked it considerably more than the Wine and The People Zin, and used words like “brilliant,” “magnificent” and “perfect” to describe it. Unfortunately, I did not note what the alcohol was, but would be surprised if it exceeded 14%. Perhaps someone from Ridge will enlighten me.

I’ve had my ups and downs with Zinfandel during my career. I never did care for the fat, extracted, high-alcohol sweet style. Clumsy, inelegant, and undrinkable with almost anything, except for that all-purpose food group, “barbecue,” by which is meant “If you’re in the backyard gorging yourself on roasted animals, feel free to drink anything your hostess provides. Yes, even if it’s from a paper cup.”

On the other hand, given Zinfandel’s tendency to clumsiness, I am suitably impressed when an authentically balanced one comes my way. If you ask me where the best ones come from, I’d say, off the top of my head, Napa Valley, because they tend to show balance and richness, while remaining dry; and then, there are those Napa tannins, still the best in California. However, top-of-the-head truths can often by upset by bottom-line facts, as a search of my Zinfandel reviews (about 550 in all) in Wine Enthusiast’s database demonstrates. My highest-scoring Zinfandels all have come from Sonoma County’s valleys (Russian, Dry Creek,  Sonoma). I did like a Ravenswood 2007 Dickerson, and also a Zinfandel I had only two days ago, Rubicon’s 2007 Edizione Pennino. Both vineyards, interestingly, are in Rutherford. Although the Sierra Foothills are famous for Zinfandel, I haven’t cared all that much for them. Too alcoholic, often unbalanced. There’s some pretty rustic winemaking up in them thar hills. Coincidentally, as I turn the pages in my old cellarbook, I come to Zin #3 from those long ago daze: Also from Ridge, but this time it’s the 1980 Shenandoah Vineyards, which hailed from the Shenandoah Valley of Amador County. Of it I wrote: “warm…prickly and tart…bit hot on finish.” As too many Foothills Zins are today.

Zinfandel styles come and go, like women talking about Michaelangelo. We’ve had white Zin, blush Zin, carbonically-macerated Zin a la Beaujolais, Zinfandel port, “claret-style” Zin, knock-your-sox-off Zin, even (a crime against Nature) sparkling Zinfandel. Who can blame the public for being confused?

Newsom Says He’s Ready for Life as a Wine Clerk

The Gav was forced to drop out of the Guv’s race after his fundraising efforts pooped, despite a ballyhooed Facebook presence (his thousands of friends include moi). Now, in this sympathetic article by the normally ascerbic Maureen Dowd, The Gav sounds almost wistful, after the trauma of seeing his political life — which those of us who’ve watched him forever know was his abiding passion — go down the tubes. “This is it. God bless. It was fun while it lasted,” he is quoted as saying of politics, adding that, “In a couple of years, you’ll see me as the clerk of a wine store.”

First of all, don’t believe for a second that Dah Mayor is giving up on politics. Not in his dna. He lives and breathes the hurdy-gurdy life of political office, and no matter what he says, there’s still a Governor’s or Senator’s seat (or an Oval Office) he dreams of. But if by chance elected office isn’t in his karma, he’ll have an easy time finding a wine store to clerk at, since he owns a bunch of them through his PlumpJack group. I can still see The Gav working the register at the first PlumpJack wine store, on Fillmore Street. He was a good clerk, friendly, smiling and attentive to his customers’ wants. It’s hard to imagine him peddling wine now that he’s had a taste of the big time. But maybe.

Don’t try spitting after the first 500

This is a first-person account of a guy’s first experience judging at a monster wine tasting, the San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition. Never mind that it’s eloquent testimony to the futility and inherent contradictions of such massive events, whose findings must be viewed with the utmost suspicion. I’ve blogged endlessly on the limitations of big competitions. What caught my eye was the author’s confession: As he began tasting the 544 wines, he had an epiphany: “I was finally going to have to learn how to spit.”

My embarrassing little secret: I, too, have never learned to properly spit.

I’ve tried to hide it for years, out of shame. I’m sure that lots of people noticed, and had the decency not to say anything. Bigtime critic whose scores can make or break a wine, but how does he spit? Like a girl. Either I expectorate back into my glass (eeewww) and dump it someplace, or I have to bend over and lean into the drain on the winery floor and let the stuff gurgle out from between my lips. Messy, stupid looking. I just never got the hang of ejecting a straight, strong, steady stream of wine through the air and having it hit its target like an arrow into the bull’s eye. I can’t whistle, either. Are the two related? But not being able to spit is the only thing I’m embarrassed about in my job. Everthing else is, well — as Oded Shakked would say — da kine.

Reserve? No, thanks, I’ll take the regular

Bill Daley has a nice Q&A with Randall Grahm in yesterday’s Chicago Tribune (another endangered newspaper, which reminds me: Did you see the other day that Media News, which owns practically all the newspapers in the Bay Area besides the Chronicle, filed for bankruptcy?). In addition to all the interestingly robust things Randall said was this sentiment: “Oak does not make everything taste better; generally one is better off passing on the special ‘reserve’ selections.”

True, true, true, true, true. I’ve found this to be so over and over in my career. Several times each week a winery will send me a “regular” and a “reserve” bottling and, almost invariably, I’ll give a higher score to the regular. The conceit behind a reserve seems to be to let the grapes get much riper than for the regular (or extract the hell out of them), then plaster as much new oak as you can on the wine. The result? Thicker, heavier, duller, and you get to pay an extra $10 or $20. Caveat emptor.

Snob wine magazines go head-to-head. Will they clobber themselves to death?

La Revue du Vin de France, a top French wine zine, announced it’s going international, in an effort to combat Decanter and Wine Spectator. Bring it on! RdV is a pretty technical publication; their Feb. issue has articles on “Oxidation of white Burgundy” and “Carbon balance: challenges in the wine estates,” which don’t exactly sound consumer-friendly to me. Nor has RdV shown that it has any appreciation of California wines, which account for about 70-80% of all wines sold in America. I went through their 2009 archives and couldn’t find a single article on a non-French wine. I suppose there may be a market for this, but not in America. Not really. But bon chance, Revue du Vin people!

Steve in New York

I’m off to The Big Apple Sunday for Wine Enthusiast’s annual Wine Star Awards, surely one of the most glamorous wine events of the year. In my tuxedo, I’ll be shmoozing with an amazing cast of true legends: Ted Baseler, Roger Trinchero, Gary Vaynerchuk, Scott McLeod, Leonardo LoCascio, Harvey Chaplin, Claudio Rizzoli, Robert Hill Smith and Josh Wesson, among other award winners. What a wonderful night this has become. My boss, Adam Strum, stood by it for years, and look what a success it is. It’s been my pleasure to contribute my small part.

I’ll try to post something before coming home next Thursday, but we’re pretty busy around the clock, and I may not be able to. Check in. In the meantime, stay happy, be healthy, eat good food and drink good wine.