Among the many advantages of being a professional wine critic is that one gets to travel the planet in search of the world's best wines. Not too long ago, for example, I spent three nights in Barcelona's luxurious Ritz hotel in order to take part in a vertical tastings of the wines of Vega Sicilia (1953 - 1990) and then traveled on to Bordeaux for a sampling of the wines of Chateau Margaux (1900 - 1998). Such tastings offer incalculable pleasure. If the truth be told, however, they are also hard work, for such tastings require intense concentration and effort.

No wise man or woman has ever said that all wines have to be great, and keeping in mind that the honest critic is a person who adores wines, no matter their origins), tastings of wines made by hobbyists also offer great pleasure. Happily, over the years I have been invited to such tastings, sometimes by good friends, at other times by mere acquaintances and at yet other times by total strangers, to taste the wines they have made in their homes. I have tasted the wines of hobbyists on six continents, those including North America (from the East to the West Coasts of Canada and the United States); Europe (especially in Italy, France, Greece, Turkey and England); Asia (Israel, Lebanon and Palestine): South America (Chile, Brazil and Argentina); Australia and New Zealand; and Africa (Morocco, Algeria and Egypt). I have never tasted wine made in Antarctica but, considering that no one has ever made a wine on that frigid continent I feel no need for apologies.

Let me make it perfectly clear that tastings with hobbyists can be unadulterated pleasures, for in addition to sampling whatever wines are being offered, one shares the joy and pride of the person who made them, enjoys their invariably warm company (wine lovers tend to be a warm and open group), and invariably of sampling at least some of whatever culinary fare they are offering. As much social events as they are wine-tastings, sampling the wines of hobbyists can be, for lack of a better term, great fun. There are, however certain lessons that I have learned over the years about such tastings. First of all, for example, in Greece and Turkey, no matter how terrible the wine you have sampled may be, you will be wise to compliment your host and restrict your comments to neutral observations such as "mmmm….interesting". Greek and Turkish hobbyists tend to be very insulted and sometimes become out-and-out aggressive if told that their wines are not the equivalent of those of Cheval Blanc or La Romanee Conti. Another lesson I have learned is that it is not wise so say that you have never heard of the Angenino or Triblisiti Nero grapes that have been used in a certain wine. Not all at-home winemakers have access to the great and noble grapes of the world and sometimes use fruit that no commercial producer would dream of using. That is not necessarily a drawback to the simple pleasures that a wine can offer, but it is often insulting to the winemaker to hear that you do not value his or her grapes. (In my own case, when I encounter grapes previously unknown to me, I do my research quietly after the tastings).

I have been asked if I use the same set of criterion when evaluating wines produced by commercial wineries and those made by hobbyists. Simply enough - I do not, for the major factor in evaluating the wine of a hobbyist is the pleasure that it offers. Thus, even the simplest wine can be appreciated if it offers pleasant aromas, flavors that are rewarding and a texture and depth that makes it rewarding to drink. It is true that even the wines of hobbyists should reflect good balance but it is not always important that they reflect the supposedly traditional aromas, flavors and texture that one has come to expect from wines made commercially. Nor, considering the small amounts made by most hobbyists, is the aging potential of their wines a major factor in its evaluation. At the risk of being repetitive, what I do look for in the wines of hobbyists is primarily pleasure, and that pleasure can range from the simple to the complex. To anticipate another question - no, I do not assign scores to the wines of hobbyists. In the case of those hobbyists who have made wine for many years, I most definitely look for a consistency in style over the years, feeling strongly that winemakers at any level who take themselves and their wines seriously strive not only for a level of consistency, but a style that reflects their own tastes and personalities.

The only time I have a "problem" with hobbyists is when they decide (rightly or wrongly) that their wines are good enough to sell on the open market, for then I have to switch hats and can no longer be the friend or acquaintance who is invited over to join the winemaker for a friendly afternoon or evening but to be the critic, and as a critic I have to evaluate their wines against other, equivalent wines also on the market. The clients of critics are their readers and once a wine is on the market, those readers are entitled to know in some detail the plusses and minuses of the wines that are being offered to them.
From time to time, I have written very favorably indeed about the wines of some hobbyists who have declared themselves to be boutique or mini-boutique wineries (the cases, for example of Beyers Truter in South Africa or Eli Ben Zaken in Israel). On the other hand, I have also written in highly critical terms about hobby-level wines that, while a joy to share with the winemaker, simply have no place on the shelves of prestigious wine stores when they are priced at anywhere from $15 - $150.

Advice to hobbyists - of course (after all, critics are always full of what we think is good advice):

1. Make the wine you think most suitable to your tastes, your facilities and your budget.
2. Develop a style that reflects what you want your wine to be and within that style, strive for
ever-increasing quality.
3. Do not make wines to impress anyone but yourself.
4. Be constantly aware that the wines you make should make a statement about who and what you are.
5. Enjoy your wines, and enjoy sharing them with friends and acquaintances in a civilized fashion for that, after all, is what wine has always been about.

© Daniel Rogov