By Evan Dawson, Managing Editor
The book about why wine is important is going to end up taking its place among the most important wine books ever written.
Beauty, according to the brilliant importer and writer Terry Theise, is what we're ultimately seeking in life. Start there. Everything else is exposition. And the beauty in Theise's prose is his refusal to be ashamed or embarrassed by genuine emotion.
This is no insignificant point. If you're a man, you can probably think of many times in your life where you fought tears because revealing a soft spot would have been seen as effeminate. If you're a woman, you can probably think of men to whom you've implored, "Don't you ever cry?"
Terry Theise cries. And he laughs, and he thinks, and he's not afraid for you to know it. What's more, he cries about wine. That's perhaps not entirely fair, because for Theise, wine is not something to be scored, but rather a connective tissue that can tap into our deeper emotional selves. Wine can connect generations, even those long since passed. Wine can recall places -- sometimes the place of a milestone in life; other times a seemingly routine walk down a quiet path.
His explanation for why scores -- and blind tasting, for that matter -- are misguided, well, it is extremely powerful stuff. To wit:
The wine was a 1966. So juicy still... What a vintage! A slightly scorched note came on as the fruit faded. Next Jean-Baptiste's wife, Karin, came in, carrying the new baby, with another daughter at her side. The older girl seemed about six. She took the baby, who looked around and cooed. Old wine, new life, what can you do? It all floods in.
How many "points" is this worth? Lives lived in wine; three generations sitting with us and paying tribute to a fourth.
As an importer who knows the power of big business, Theise is careful to say that many wines evoke no real emotion at all. Rather, he seeks out wines with a sense of place, a kind of humanity imbued into the very tannins and acids. Does that sound hokey? Theise wouldn't give a damn if it does.
He stumbles only when he seems to shift and lecture against taking every wine too seriously. It's actually quite an important point -- after all, wine lovers are prone to going overboard, as this writer has been known to do. But that section reads more like Theise's subdued cynical id, trying to poke a hole in his sentimentalism. It's the typical condescending "get over yourself" side that must be created in Theise's subconscious simply to offer an occasional break from the emoting.
This book blends into the discussion of where New York wine is heading. Understandably, there is so much effort just to make viable wine that the notion of a wine's special sense of place can be lost or ignored. But the slowly emerging and powerful sense of place in some New York wines are not all that unlike the wines from Germany and Austria and the Loire that Theise loves most. And while New York wines lack the big-money backers that have propped up emerging regions like Walla Walla and, 40 years ago, Napa Valley, Theise's book reminds us why that might be a blessing for wine lovers. The small production wines earn the constant attention of their vintners here. There is room for discovery.
There are so many ideas, so many observations, so many turns of phrase offered in this book that I could highlight them for hours. Instead, I will conclude with this: Buy this book. Read it once, let it sink in, and then read it again.
And open yourself to the kind of emotion that is waiting to be uncorked. The closing line in Reading Between the Wines is the most powerful closing line I have ever read. It haunts me still, and taking a cue from the author, I'm not afraid to admit it moved me to tears.





thanks Evan. I bought the book a week or two ago and haven't had time to get into it yet. This will prod me along. I've enjoyed reading Terry's catalogs for his German portfolio.
Posted by: Dana Estep | October 20, 2010 at 12:33 PM
Yes, those are exactly the type of tasting notes that eliminate the need for scores. Who needs to put the wine in perspective against other wines when you can write about kids?
I know the next time I'm in a wine shop wondering what to purchase, I'll think, "Would this wine be better with a 6-year-old, a baby, or both?"
Posted by: Blake Gray | October 20, 2010 at 04:54 PM
Blake -
Ha! I admit that you delivered a very good jab with that one. It's not an unfair point.
But that passage comes in the larger context of why Theise believes wine can matter. And not to speak for the author, but clearly he feels that the scoring of wine misses the point.
I'll hedge a bit and say that I'm much more deeply invested in his side of the argument, but you have always advocated for the reader and consumer and I appreciate that, too.
Posted by: Evan Dawson | October 20, 2010 at 05:00 PM
Nice piece, Evan. It's an amazing book. It's the kind of book that I wish was an audio book, as well -- maybe pressed to vinyl playing on a record player with pops, hisses and the occasional skip.
Undoubtedly, it will go down in the pantheon of modern wine classics with Kramer's Making Sense of Wine and Osbourne's The Accidental Connoisseur.
Jeff
Posted by: Jeff | October 20, 2010 at 05:49 PM
I too enjoyed this book while, interestingly enough, flying out to tour and taste through Walla Walla. (I think Walla Walla is more similar to the Finger Lakes than you think but I will save that discussion for a Red Newt dinner.)
Terry is certainly one of the industry's best and most entertaining story tellers both in print and in person. Anything that helps raise the profile of Riesling is something that should be celebrated in the Finger Lakes.
Posted by: Morgen McLaughlin | October 20, 2010 at 11:01 PM
Thanks for the heads up about this book. From the comments so far I can only assume it's going to be an interesting read. Hey Jeff, like your idea of the audio book too with the sound of the corks popping in the background lol.
Posted by: Nigel | October 21, 2010 at 04:11 AM
Morgen,
I love the work you're doing to study other regions, look for parallels, and bring valuable lessons back. This region needs the open eyes and ears. I look forward to chatting with you about what you saw.
And I trust you when you tell me there are real similarities. I could have been more obvious and left the comparison to, say, Napa...
Posted by: Evan Dawson | October 21, 2010 at 02:21 PM
>>I know the next time I'm in a wine shop wondering what to purchase, I'll think, "Would this wine be better with a 6-year-old, a baby, or both?"<<
It's a crucial question. Wines served with babies need to be simple, one-dimensional but immediately delicious, so you can appreciate a quick slug between serving spoonfuls of Gerbers or cleaning up the mug thrown on the floor. Wines served with six-year olds should have powerful, complex and distinct aromas, so you can enjoy their funny faces when they ask for a sniff of what Dad or Mom are drinking.
Posted by: Christian Miller | October 22, 2010 at 03:38 PM