$660-a-bottle wine: Is it in your futures?

Bordeaux futures are being offered by local wine shops and some national retailers, and by any standard the prices are ludicrous.

Not that there aren't plenty of buyers lined up to plunk down thousands of dollars for wines that won't even arrive for another two or three years — the reviews have been that good. ("Futures" are paid for and ordered now but not delivered until the wines have been blended, barreled and bottled.) But still, I had to scratch my head when I saw, for example, that the 2005 Mouton is being offered locally for $660! For a bottle, not a case!! Lafite is priced the same. These are first-growth wines, to be sure, but even the influential Wine Advocate gave the Mouton "just" a 94-96 rating, while Lafite drew a 93-96+. In the newsletter's same issue there were 19 Washington wines rated 94 and above, and several dozen more in the 90-93 range. The most expensive of these was $100, and most were far less.

So it's not just high scores that are behind this absurd run-up in Bordeaux pricing. Something else is going on. When I bought my first (and only) case of Bordeaux futures a little more than 20 years ago, I included some Mouton in the mix. That wine had been rated a perfect 100 by the same publication. It was selling for $42 a bottle. That was a lot of money, but in no way comparable to today's prices.

Still scratching my head, I went searching for an answer to the question how is this possible, and I think I found it. In his introduction to "The California Wine Book" (William Morrow & Co., 1976) the respected British wine writer Hugh Johnson explains that the whole classified growth ranking system for Bordeaux was created to meet the demands of the 19th-century aristocracy. In the cellars of the English nobility of the day you would find only first-growth claret, as it was called.

So demand was small, and production limited, and if you weren't of a certain class you couldn't just walk down to the corner and pick up a bottle of Lafite or Latour. Johnson points out that these were not the only vineyards in France capable (theoretically) of making wines of this quality; they just happened to be discovered first — a "historical accident" he calls it. His main point is that things have changed, and not for the better. Though this was written 30 years ago, his next words are even truer today: "The aristocracy has gone. Its place has been taken by the affluent society. It is asking too much of France's old vineyards to supply the world's affluent society with the precise wine that was developed for a tiny European aristocracy. Inevitably prices have risen, and just as inevitably standards have fallen."

Now you can argue (and many do) that since 1976 standards have actually risen. But prices, which may have seemed high then, would barely get you a couple of bottles of Yellow Tail today. So, asking the practical question: Should you, oh beleaguered consumer, buy 2005 Bordeaux futures? I would look long and hard before doing so. For less money you can find back vintages of many of the wines being offered, vintages that are quite drinkable right now. Is 2005 a better "investment"? Well, every bubble has its day, and this may be this one's moment to float even higher. So did tulip bulbs, at least for a while.

For those who want to watch as futures prices fly or die, check out www.bordoverview.com/ for the latest scores and quotes.

Cru Zin on a sunny afternoon

There's an interesting round-table discussion about Paso Robles zinfandel on a new Web site AppellationAmerica.com. I used to love Paso zins, particularly in cooler years, when the grapes don't ripen into jammy raisins. But I found myself drifting away from them recently, as typical alcohol levels for all California zins climbed steadily past 14, 15, even 16 percent, turning them into dry Ports.

Larry Roberts, who makes wine for Redline Cellars, crystallized my vague concerns in his online post. He's been making Paso zinfandel since 1980, he said, noting with regret the trend to riper and riper (hence hotter and hotter wines) since the Turley zins broke the 17 percent alcohol barrier and began ringing up big scores. Varietal character, Roberts concludes, is "out the window!" He no longer makes zin.

His comments seem to echo my own frequently voiced concerns about global warming, sugar-intensive vineyard management and out-of-control alcohol levels, particularly in zinfandel. So I've looked long and hard to try to find some that I can recommend for your summer enjoyment, to savor with a burger or hot dog or whatever is burning up on your grill at the moment (happily, the less expensive zins also tend to be lower in alcohol).

Here are some good choices:

Kendall-Jackson 2004 Vintner's Reserve Zinfandel, $12; Sebastiani 2004 Sonoma County Selection Zinfandel, $13; Dashe Cellars 2003 Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel, $24; and DeLoach 2004 "Gambogi Ranch" Zinfandel, $28.

Tequila!

When so-called "table wines" such as zinfandel reach these palate-dulling levels of alcohol, it's time to reconsider whether a cocktail or two with your meal makes just as much sense as wine. Make no mistake — I'm a wine guy and fully intend to stay one. But a recent evening at Crush featured the innovative plates of chef Jason Wilson matched to a wondrous ensemble of tequila-based cocktails. My dogged belief that only wine could do justice to food has been permanently altered by the experience.

Master mixologist Francesco LaFranconi, who hails from Friuli in northeast Italy, concocted the dazzling libations for the six course, food and tequila extravaganza. The Gran Centenario tequilas — Plata, Reposado and Añejo — were plenty good to start with. But they really took off when Francesco mixed them into creative cocktails using a startling range of wines, liqueurs, herbs and fruit juices. They worked as well with the food — and sometimes better than — as many of the wines I've tried over the years.

One member of my dinner party pointed out a possible explanation. With a wine and food combination, you are basically stuck with whatever the wine has to give you in terms of flavor. You can adjust the food to some extent, but isn't the point to let the food be the food, and match the beverage to it? With a well-designed cocktail, the mixologist can adjust the recipe to his or her heart's (and tongue's) desire.

One sublime match of many was the foie gras torchon, lightly sautéed and accented with rhubarb, French toasts and miners lettuce, accompanied by a cocktail of Gran Centenario Reposado, ice wine and kumquat-rhubarb pearls. Though winemakers may shudder, the ice wine/tequila blend was delicious and sweet enough to set off the foie gras in the same way that a fine, sweet Sauternes will. Response was so positive that chef Wilson has decided to feature at least two of the Gran Centenario cocktails on the restaurant's permanent drink menu. Be sure to ask for the appropriate food match when you order, and let me know if you like it.

Question for sommeliers

I'm looking for Seattle-area restaurants (also Yakima and Walla Walla) that allow wine lovers to bring in wines for no (or a very low) corkage fee. Do you qualify? Have any other wine "deals" such as a half-price bottle night? Clue me in at wine@seattletimes.com.

finding the wine:

Unless noted, all Wine Adviser recommendations are currently available, though vintages may sometimes differ. All wine shops and most groceries have a wine specialist on staff, and if they do not have the wine in stock, they can order it for you from the local distributor.

Paul Gregutt can be reached by e-mail at wine@seattletimes.com