Fearing Feiring

Hello all, I'm new to the group and hope you'll forgive me if this question has been asked before. I live in Israel. I'm reading Alice Feiring's book "The Battle for Wine and Love" and am very curious to know whether the Israeli wines I've been drinking and admiring for years are the products of the kinds of space-age engineering she describes in her book. Are my Ellas, Tishbis, Recanatis, Sasloves, et al the products of micro-ox bubble machines and reverse-osmosis torture chambers? Are they being jazzed up with industrial yeasts? And should I care?

My head is really spinning. In addition to making me look askance at my glass of Castel, Feiring also seems to be telling me that my enjoyment of big, jammy, fruit-bomb zins brands me a hopeless philistine. Oh well. I like Adam Sandler movies, too. What can I do?

Oh, and another thing. She is very bothered by the propensity among California growers to employ Israeli drip irrigation systems in their vineyards, since it encourages the roots to stay close to the surface rather than drill deep into the earth for water. Her point (if I understood her correctly) is that vines with deep roots are able to acquire a complex minerality that cannot be achieved if the roots don't pass through geological levels. So that leads me to wonder: Israel being where it is, are all of our vineyards dependent on irrigation systems to some degree or another? And if so, are they incapable of achieving true, epoch-making greatness?

She's really got me thinking, I'll give her that. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on all this.

And should I care?

No.

Just put the book down (in a place you won't ever feel inclined to reach into) and read something good instead that's not one-eyed, self indulgent drivel.

[David M. Bueker]

Judith,

I will echo Salil's sentiments, and try to dig up my book review that I posted a couple of years ago.

[Robin Garr]

Judith, you'll get plenty of activity here in the main forum, but do be sure to drop a few lines down the main forum page and introduce yourself in the "Rogov's Place" forum as well. Our friend and associate Daniel Rogov, who lives in Tel Aviv and writes about food and wine, maintains a separate wine forum with a world wide view but an Israeli focus.

Don't be a stranger here, either ... we're one big happy village here.

Here's the link to Rogov's Place:
viewforum.php?f=29

Robin, thank you for the suggestion! I've reposted my question(s) on Rogov's Place. And thank you, Salil and David. David, I'll be most interested to read your review.

I read that book a couple years ago and while I found it an entertaining read, she definitely does take things a little too far. I experienced your exact feelings after I read it - questioning every wine in my glass, wondering where to find these supposed "natural" wines and imagining that they really must taste ever so much better. I agree with Feiring in that Parkerization is generally not a very good thing, but I don't really see it as the harbinger of the end of times like she does.

However, I've since realized that many of the natural wines she speaks so highly of are definitely not what they are cracked up to be. In fact, many of them are downright bad. You know those cellars that she lovingly describes? Yeah, those damp ones with mold everywhere? In my (admittedly limited) experience, wines made in such places make my throat close up. Wines contaminated with mold or Brett or whatever are not fun to drink. I'm a huge fan of modern (read: clean) winemaking facilities and practices.

And there's nothing wrong with a nice big fruity wine, as long as everything is balanced.

I enjoy reading about natural wines and am sympathetic to the movement. I like many of the wines I've tried from Dressner and Jenny & Francois, and Rosenthal. I like a good dose of brett in my wines (Yum! Clos Roche Blanche!). However, I have had my share of natural wine disasters (the peanut butter-flavored Gamay made by the overalled, burly son-of-the French soil who doesn't even have electricity or a tractor was particularly memorable!) I hate American "industrial" wines.

Another "issue" is that sometimes the no sulfur, "natural" wine approach in itself seems to, in some cases, result in exactly what its advocates claim to be fighting: a sameness in flavor that masks varietal or even the vaunted "terroir".

[David M. Bueker]

So what follows is the "review" I posted about Alice's book in 2008. I also provide HERE the link to a previous, spirited discussion that we had on the forum

Part and parcel of being a wine geek is the need to be up in arms about something at all times. In this way Alice Feiring certainly qualifies as a wine geek. Her recent book The Battle for Wine and Love (or How I Saved the World from Parkeization) conveys a sense that she is consistently up in arms about one thing: not everyone makes wine that she likes. In fact almost nobody makes wine that she likes.

If I were to actually write a reading note (it’s like a tasting note but without the fun of tasting) about the book, I would summarize it as follows:

The Battle for Wine & Love is a whiny, disjointed set of anecdotes which establish a monolithic view of the wine world. Repetitive in its themes, and acidic in its attitudes, the book leaves the reader feeling that their money would have been better spent on a bottle of Australian Shiraz, thus ensuring that they would never have to share a table with the author. While the book does come together a bit on the finish, it cannot overcome the overall level of bitterness that dominates the body of the work.

There’s no sense in getting into a blow by blow assessment of Feiring’s comments in the book, as any contradiction of her points is sure to be considered as a failure to get the point. However, I do want to specifically call out her dismissal of the Moet & Chandon Trilogie des Grands Crus. While I never had the opportunity to sample the Chardonnay based entrant, I did drink (that’s drink, not taste) both the Pinot Meunier and Pinot Noir versions, and found them delicious and distinctive; an opinion shared with a wine geek of high (or ill depending on your favorite web site) repute and our respective wives whose palates exceed our own in their persnickety-ness. Professional (and decidedly un-spoofy) critic Stephen Tanzer was also quite positive about the trilogie. Granted that was just one short story in the book, but the easy way in which Feiring dismissed even high quality wines, just because of who or how they made them, made the whole reading process tedious.

Just my 2 cents.

If I were to actually write a reading note (it’s like a tasting note but without the fun of tasting) about the book, I would summarize it as follows:
[b]
The Battle for Wine & Love is a whiny, disjointed set of anecdotes which establish a monolithic view of the wine world. Repetitive in its themes, and acidic in its attitudes, the book leaves the reader feeling that their money would have been better spent on a bottle of Australian Shiraz, thus ensuring that they would never have to share a table with the author. While the book does come together a bit on the finish, it cannot overcome the overall level of bitterness that dominates the body of the work.

David, this reading note is absolutely brilliant! Thanks so much for sharing. You just forgot to mention that the book was also a thinly veiled attempt to one-up several of her former lovers.

[David M. Bueker]

You just forgot to mention that the book was also a thinly veiled attempt to one-up several of her former lovers.

I thought I covered that in the "bitterness" part.

Why didn't the cannibals eat Alice?

[David M. Bueker]

Why didn't the cannibals eat Alice?

I don't know...why didn't the cannibals eat Alice?

Why didn't the cannibals eat Alice?

I don't know...why didn't the cannibals eat Alice?

Even some cannibals are selective "what" they eat. I guess

Because she was bitter.

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter-bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

totally off-topic, but I love the poem.

totally off-topic, but I love the poem.

It isn't off-topic at all, Dale - and anytime someone shares an amazing piece of poetry, it is always welcome.

Now, as for anytime someone shares a terrible piece of poetry...

Thank you all! By the way, I did repost my question on Rogov's forum and received a wonderfully comprehensive response from him this morning: viewtopic.php?f=29&t=32778&p=276793#p276724

It's a superb rebuttal of Feiring's thesis.

These forums are quite a treasure. I'm learning new words aplenty -- I'd never heard of "brett" until I read your posts on this thread. (I've since looked it up.) I gather that this isn't exactly an entry-level group, and that's great! I look forward to learning a lot from you guys.

Heck, I'm impressed that Rogov admitted the wheel had been invented.

[Jenise]

I gather that this isn't exactly an entry-level group, and that's great! I look forward to learning a lot from you guys.

You gather correctly, Judith. But it's also true that beginners are always warmly accepted as the regulars here love to mentor. Knowledge, like wine itself, is too good not to share. Glad you found us.

[James Roscoe]

Heck, I'm impressed that Rogov admitted the wheel had been invented.

Rogov was there when the wheel was invented. I think that was the last time he and Lou saw each other! BobH and Tom Hill were out arguing about the need for an axle.

Heck, I'm impressed that Rogov admitted the wheel had been invented.

Rogov was there when the wheel was invented. I think that was the last time he and Lou saw each other! BobH and Tom Hill were out arguing about the need for an axle.

Yeah, but at least Rogov and I thought that the wheel was a great idea. Remember Alan was sure it would never be accepted by society in general, too different.

[James Roscoe]

I bet Alan thought fire was a radical idea at the time! "Be a man! Eat the damn stuff raw!"