Not surprisingly, a couple of days recently spent judging the Tucker Seabrook Wine List of the Year competition had the dual effect of making my mouth water and scrambling my brain. In the three years it’s been running, there’s little doubt that the entries to this competition, which include a large number of the better wine lists in the land, have improved measurably. But judging them is becoming an undertaking of ever-increasing complexity. I’m not of the school that people go to restaurants to pay homage to the wine list, which should be a simple and easily-understood catalogue of items for sale. But obviously, too many restaurateurs and sommeliers believe that size is everything. But where’s the fun in taking somebody out to dinner if the first twenty minutes are consumed in needlessly exhaustive and unproductive navigation through a bewildering game of mix and match? Say I’m looking for a chardonnay, preferably a crisp little cool climate number. I really want to complete the transaction as quickly as possible, because my guest is blonde and impatient. But I want something snappy. A cursory glance through the main list doesn’t excite, but hopefully there’s some sort of reserve listing at the back. There is. A motley collection of nice old labels from bad old years, whose prices reflect the owner’s unjustifiable pride in them. But wait, there’s more! Since a glass of water, if carelessly knocked onto the restaurant’s floor, would ultimately flow towards the Yarra River and gurgle out into Port Phillip Bay, there’s a Yarra Valley regional list hidden behind the main one! Hope springs, only to be quickly dashed upon a scruffy collection of poor to bad wines from small makers I thought had given up. Eight thirsty minutes have so far expired and the ticking of my guest’s wrist watch is sounding more and more like a time-bomb. Salvation is found on the fourth list, the Imported List, where a reliable little Chablis from William Fevre is offered for sale at a price which suggests it has been captive to the restaurant’s cellar for some years. Figuring it’s worth a punt, I order a bottle. The decision is made and now the meal can finally begin. Terribly sorry sir, the waiter announces with some pride, we sold our last bottle just half an hour ago. Wouldn’t it be easier for a restaurant to confine itself having a maximum of two wine lists? One local and one imported, sure. But then a reserve list, limited list, daily special list or a regional list as well? And why on so many ‘cellar’ lists or ‘reserve’ lists are there so many current vintage wines from 1995 and 1996? If a restaurant has a wine for sale, why not show it to everyone, not just those who ask for an extra list? I’d like to know how many bottles some restaurants stock of some wines on these special lists. I would have thought a minimum of half a dozen was something of a prerequisite unless a very clear indication is given to the customer that the quantity available is very small. And while thinking about loaves and fishes, it didn’t escape my attention that around half of the restaurants whose lists I adjudicated served De Bortoli Noble One by the glass. They must be making an awful lot of the stuff these days. Recently at a posh new Melbourne restaurant I requested an old riesling from a reserve vintage list. When twenty minutes later I asked if its appearance was becoming imminent, I was told by a waiter that since the reserve list was located off the premises, its wines naturally take longer to bring to the table. Another ten minutes later the bottle arrived, at room temperature, presented by the owner. I asked him if it was true the delay was because the reserve list was located elsewhere. Of course not, he said, it’s because the wines on that list were not refrigerated and took time to be properly chilled for serving. So he was wrong on at least one count. People who make promises on wine lists must be able to deliver. Nothing spoils a meal more than to find out the restaurant no longer carries what you have just ordered or if it takes forever to bring to the table because of some internal difficulty which shouldn’t affect the customer. Although our wine lists reflect more thought and detail than ever before, there’s plenty of room for improvement. It’s encouraging to see so many more wines served by the glass, although I worry about how they keep the bottles. I am no fan at all of those devices which lay claim to create a vacuum in half-empty wine bottles and believe they do more harm than good, but that’s a story for another day. It’s pleasing to see more restaurants offer wine from the same country that inspires their cuisine, for it adds to the breadth of experience they offer. Too many wine lists would be better off by offering less wine, more good and interesting wine and by adhering to the truest of all adages in marketing: Keep It Simple.
