A juicy wine guide, with undertones of respectability

"Washington Wines & Wineries: The Essential Guide" by Paul Gregutt

University of California Press, 305 pp., $34.95

Paul Gregutt has one of those jobs some people dream of: He tastes wine. By his count, he samples 6,000 to 8,000 wines a year, not only from around Washington state but from virtually every part of the winemaking world.

And then he writes about them, for this newspaper and other publications.

Sound like fun? Well, enjoyment is certainly part of the equation. These are wines, after all, not widgets.

But done right, writing about wine is darned hard work. And Gregutt, who's been at this since 1984, does it right, as evidenced by the success of his latest book, "Washington Wines & Wineries: The Essential Guide."

Gregutt does more than sniff, slurp and toss around flowery adjectives. He pays attention. He asks questions. He draws conclusions. And he tracks wineries and the state's wine industry over time, noting whether their promise is fulfilled.

Don't look for pretty pictures or lists of winery tasting-room hours in the book. That stuff you can easily get online from the Washington Wine Commission, www.washingtonwine.org.

Instead, Gregutt offers educated insights — details about the state's wine-growing regions, a rundown of the grape varieties grown here and mini-profiles of more than 100 wineries.

Gregutt is a bit of a double agent: an admitted advocate of Washington wine, but one who takes pains to be a thoughtful critic, not a cheerleader.

He notes, for example, that Chateau Ste. Michelle went through a rough patch with some of its red wines from vintages early in this decade, and he needles Maryhill winery for producing a vast array of wines instead of concentrating on quality, "a bit like a kid in kindergarten with too many crayons in his desk."

He even reports that iconic Leonetti Cellar, which put Walla Walla wine on the map, made a number of early vintages that didn't hold up particularly well after a few years in the cellar.

But by and large, Gregutt has good things to say about the wineries he included, and why not? He selected what he calls the "top 25 percent" of the state's 500 wineries, apologizing in advance if a reader's favorite hasn't made the cut.

The author, recognizing that specific vintages and bottlings come and go at a pace that could quickly put any book out of date, rates wineries themselves on a 100-point scale he devised to assess style, consistency, value and contribution to the state's wine industry.

He divides these wineries into four groups: the leaders, the specialists, the bench (think baseball) and the rookies.

One winery, Quilceda Creek, collects a perfect 100, a reflection of the fact that Alex and Paul Golitzin, a father-son team in Snohomish, make "as fine a cabernet sauvignon as anyone in the world."

Leonetti Cellar, despite the shortcoming mentioned above, weighs in with a 98.

Perhaps more useful to the legions of us who rarely share our tables with hard-to-find bottles such as Quilceda Creek or Leonetti are Gregutt's observations on widely available labels and promising newcomers.

Among the latter: Walla Walla's Abeja winery, a relatively new name, but one with a seasoned winemaker, John Abbott, whom Gregutt praises for rich, voluptuous chardonnays, and supple, dense cabernet sauvignons. And another Walla Walla winery, Forgeron Cellars, whose offerings include a rare Washington zinfandel.

Gregutt's "leaders" aren't limited to high-end wines. They include Columbia Crest, the state's best-selling label, with a track history of offering quality wines at value prices.

This book is a reference work, not something to sit down and read from start to finish. It attempts to capture what Gregutt calls "a delicious moment in time" as Washington wine, which has risen from relative infancy in the past few decades, is poised for possible prominence on the world stage.

Whether you've enjoyed Washington wine for years or just got home from the liquor store with a screw-cap from Hogue Cellars (a winery that didn't make Gregutt's list), this book has a lot to offer.

Several points that Gregutt cites, and to varying extent endorses, are worth discussing, preferably over a glass of wine. Should the state's winemakers, for example, settle on a single grape variety on which to build Washington's reputation, a la Oregon and its pinot noir?

In theory, that might make it easier for outsiders to understand what Washington wine is and wants to be. But for wine-drinkers here who enjoy hop-scotching from a well-made Washington syrah to a viognier to a merlot to a sauvignon blanc, the current chaos has a decidedly delightful quality.

Jack Broom is a Seattle Times

news reporter.