“A Score to Settle”

Rallying against point ratings has officially become one of the most tired, uninteresting topics surrounding wine. I hesitate to even dredge up the topic, but it will always be a subject for discussion, right alongside the equally worthless screwcap-versus-cork debate. I mean, really, how bad does writer’s block have to get before someone goes back to the well to once again discuss the irrelevance of the 100-point scale?

The topic is dead. But the funny thing is, no one ever put it to rest. Points still mean a great deal to a lot of people. Wineries that earn high points will proudly use these numbers in their promotional materials. The wine-drinking public is so willing to quantify the notion of taste, even though this practice certainly defies logic. The very foundation of the idea, that taste can somehow be objectively measured in such specific terms — with numbers — is patently ridiculous if you stop to think about it.

Still, tastes in all sorts of things have been quantified by critics for years. How many food critics have used stars to rate restaurants, going all the way back to Le Guide Michelin in 1900? The top score in the Michelin Guide is three stars, but some critics have now graduated to a five-star system, amazingly. Movies get all sorts of ratings as well, although my favorite has always been Siskel & Ebert’s thumbs-up, thumbs-down system. Their innovative “yay” or “nay” was so absolute, yet at the same time, so utterly vague.

Imagine if James Laube over at Wine Spectator just gave a simple thumbs up or thumbs down to the wines he reviewed. I would actually have no problem with that, and I wish that he would. Then, maybe he wouldn’t have so many readers who feel as though tasting wine is a science. I will concede that making wine is most definitely a science, but drinking it? Please. Are you able to get the glass to your lips without spilling it? Then, by all means, you’re qualified to taste wine and to assess whether or not you like it.

• • •

When it comes to rating wine, how about answering this one simple question: is it good enough to drink a whole bottle by yourself, even if you do have to be at work pretty early in the morning? For some, drinking an entire bottle of wine may seem like quite a daunting or even an irresponsible undertaking. If this is true for you, then you’re probably not reading the latest wine ratings anyway. But, in all honesty, this situation is really not that outrageous at all for someone who has more than a passing interest in wine.

To paint a more detailed scenario, imagine that you would be casually drinking this hypothetical bottle over the course of a reasonably long night. For instance, you would have one glass before dinner, where you would evaluate the wine on its stand-alone own merits. Then you would have a couple glasses with dinner, where you would judge it alongside food. And then after dinner — when the wine has had plenty of time to breathe (whether you decanted it or not) — you would ask yourself, is it really worth finishing the last two pours?

If the answer to the question is, “Yes, I could easily and gladly drink the whole bottle in one night,” then the wine would earn a positive review. However, if the wine is not good enough to finish — “Nope, no real need to get all boozed up on this stuff” — then the wine would receive a negative review. The way I see it, this scenario couldn’t be any more cut and dry: either the wine gets finished, or it doesn’t. That’s the real bottom line, and a very practical litmus test.