“We knocked the bastard off.”
— Sir Edmund Hillary on reaching the summit of Mount Everest

When I heard the news that Sir Edmund Hillary had passed at the age of 88, I checked him out. Now, everyone knows Hillary’s accomplishments, or at least enough to recognize his significance in the modern world. I don’t know if Sir Ed drank wine, or told jokes (although I’d bet on some whoppers), but there are lessons to be learned by this singular and very human man. He was a hero possessed of humility, constantly deflecting proclamations of his greatness. He was a man of balance, integrity and single-minded grittiness. The lesson of Hillary’s life is one that we in the wine world would be wise to pay attention to. And we might just be starting to.

If you aren’t up on the latest trends in table wines, I’ll give you the condensed version: high alcohol wines are dominating the marketplace under the influence of one Robert M Parker (old news), and the trend seems to be snowballing. A recent Los Angeles Times article quoted one winemaker that fell into the trap of creating wines to please His Parkerness: Adam Tolmach of Ojai vineyards. Tolmach has come out of the woodwork (or closet, of sorts) to say, “I’d stopped drinking my own wines.” That’s fresh news.

No winemaker has said it before, at least not to the extent that it made any waves. And no ripple this one, make no mistake; tongues wagged, eyes sharpened and ears burned.

But why? Why is alcohol content such a big deal?

As late as the ’90s California reds were still being made within the traditional 11-14 percent alcohol range. The better examples were rich in texture with focused fruit flavors. The best of the lot proved to be worthy of cellaring.

In my capacity at K&L—buying and selling collections of old and rare stocks—I have enjoyed the opportunity to sample bottles in various stages of evolution. The latest wine I had the pleasure to sample was a 1991 Cain Five, a Napa Valley Bordeaux blend. The fruit was ripe, but not overly so. Qualities of cedar and tobacco and lovely sweet cherry fruit danced on my palate in almost perfect harmony after 18 years in bottle.

The alcohol level? Twelve and a half percent according to the label.

This is nothing new. The legendary wines from Inglenook, Louis Martini, Beaulieu Vineyards and Charles Krug were in the “normal” 11-14 percent range. The ’68 Krug is still delicious. Ditto the ’66 Martini Special Selection and the ’80 B.V. Private Reserve. Great wine at standard levels can—and has—been done.

I came across a zinfandel recently with an alcohol level of 18.3 percent. There was no designation as to “late harvest” or “dessert style” or any other clue that the wine would be at such a nosebleed level of alcohol. So throw out the idea that you can imbibe x ounces of wine and still drive legally. The difference between 12.5 percent and 18.3 percent alcohol is mind boggling. It falls a stone’s throw from Port, for goodness sake.

This is not to say that there should be no natural wine higher in alcohol than the standard table wine parameter. There are wonderful wines made throughout the world, and some sterling examples are over the standard. But I’ve no doubt that the average alcoholic content of a bottle of wine has risen dramatically since that 1991 Cain Five was produced. One can taste it if not see it.

This is the direct result of a winery’s attempt to cull favor from influential wine reviewers. More points means faster sell-through and a higher profile, followed by higher prices. So we have a three-tiered problem—the winemaker built the “house of brix,” yes, but the wine writers laid the foundation. And the consumer does the landscaping by buying into the whole Ponzi (not the winery) scheme.

Winemaker Tolmach’s comment about not being able to drink his own wine seems ridiculous when taken at face value, sort of falling on his own vinous sword. But he had already begun to correct his winemaking to a new approach, adhering to an older style of winemaking when he made the statement. When one considers this, Tolmach and Ojai are to be commended for having the guts to break old ground. Like Sir Edmund Hillary, one does what one does to the best of ones’ abilities. This, Hillary believed, was just the way things are. And things had a habit of working out for Hillary. Tolmach, and Ojai Vineyards may be at the forefront of a backlash. They are not alone, but they are the first to pull their fingers from the dike.

Climbing mountains and winemaking share many similarities: both are solitary pursuits, both rely on nature and man’s interaction with it. Both take planning and time. Both move above without a net below. If the right thing goes wrong, all can be lost. Yet it is within this vacuum of solitude that the main difference emerges: the climber has but one goal—to reach the top. But the winemaker has two masters: business success an artistic success. I cannot help but believe that Sir Hillary would distill it down to one goal: make the best wine he possibly can. The wine world has been top-heavy in terms of the influence of wine reviewers, most notably Robert Parker Jr. This is not a knock on Mr. Parker, a true champion of wine. But to quote Sir Hillary, “I was just an average bloke; it was the media that transformed me into a heroic figure.” True on all counts—for Parker as well as Hillary. Parker did not set out to be so influential. The rest of the wine world levitated him. And we did it with blind trust. We put all our “eggs” into Parker’s basket. We collected wines he reviewed favorably, often without even tasting them. Hell, we did not even trust ourselves.

But the words of Adam Tolmach ring true. In the L.A. Times article he states that he, “went away from what I personally like.” And to make wine as an expression of what he believes it should be is what we ought to expect of him. This will not come without a price. It is always easier to walk on the trail once it has been cleared. Sir Edmund said it perfectly, “I was very much aware that we still had to get safely back down the mountain again…”

Because of Adam Tolmach’s remarks, this issue is now on the front burner of the insular wine world, and will undoubtedly make its way out to the real world. The archaic idea of wine as complimentary and not dominant now has a fighting chance to come full circle, to come back to its roots. Let’s hope, in the words of Hillary, we can tackle the issue of high alcohol in wine and be able to say that we “knocked this bastard off.”

What do you think? Is high extract high quality? Is an elevated alcohol level just a byproduct of variables that do not represent a conscious shift? Is there blame to be laid, and if so, at whose feet? The winemakers, or the retailers, the consumer, or Parker himself?

—Joe Zugelder