Warning: the subject developed in this column does not in any way want to undermine, directly or indirectly, a category of wines or individuals for whom ugly wine also has the right of citizenship.
We are always busy extolling the qualities of a good wine, but never those of an ugly wine. Is an ugly wine born ugly? Or, let’s be magnanimous, from when does it become so? In short, where is this fine line between who is good and who is not terrible? Let’s try a definition. A wine is ugly if it is free from neither faults nor qualities, while offering a convincing platform for neither. And to complicate the situation, the same lousy wine will always be better for some than another considered good by others. A snake wants to bite its tail and it would be reduced to giving its tongue to the cat!
There are ugly and ugly
Discussing tastes and colors is as random as discussing the sex of angels. Whether the angels are abstemious or not. However, a general observation emerges when we lend ourselves to an absolute evaluation of all types of wine. Neophytes as well as enlightened amateurs will unanimously agree that they prefer wines perceived as being less ugly than others, those even uglier. There would be ugly and ugly, in a way. Quality, whatever it is and wherever it comes from, will always be prized, depending on who is likely to recognize it.
This truism of last resort, however, does nothing to elucidate this thorny question: “Why are there ugly wines?” The marketing ace will argue that there’s an audience for everything, even the ugly. The ace of finance will agree that quality is priceless, hence a fallback to ugliness. The ace of personal development, finally, will agree that only what is perceived as ugly is ugly, and that everything is in the image of what we consider to be ugly. In short, that it happens in the head, all that.
Not more advanced? Let’s get to the practical work! The duty proceeded this week to the purchase of four wines at low prices sorted at random in the same price range, all of course tasted blind at the same temperature (12 degrees Celsius). Let’s say that half displayed a rating of ★★ – very honorable and “not pocket at all”, while the others shone by an absence of stars (here rated ⦿). Note that more expensive wines can also, but more sporadically, fall into this last unenviable category. One of the causes of the lack of love for these unrated wines? Among other things, a residual sugar level that bastardized and caricatured everything to excess.
Thus, briefly commented, this gives, in the order of tasting:
Eco 2018, Pelee Island, Ontario ($9.95 – 12698629). A clear, clean, light, lively and sapid blend of Vidal and Chardonnay that is pleasingly simple. (5) ★★
Gray Fox Vineyard 2020, California ($8.90 – 10669058). Surprising caramel popcorn flavors for a fruitless chardonnay weighed down by its residual sugars. A gold medal is displayed on the bottle, that is to say… (⦿)
Barefoot Shiraz, California ($10.95 – 10915036). Nose of beets and burnt latex, all dried up under more than 10 grams of sugar. (⦿)
Down to Earth 2020, Pays d’Oc, France ($10.10 – 11374391). Clean and integrated whole, ample and heady, but balanced with its spicy and fruity finish. (5) ★★
To put it bluntly, at a time when oenology is triumphing (too much?) and when you should drink less but better by agreeing to spend a few more bills so as not to damage your palate — life is dramatically short! —, the fact remains that an ugly wine will always deprive a wine that isn’t of that precious shelf space that it rightfully deserves on the shelves of the SAQ. There, it is said.