The HoseMaster's Guide to Tasting Room Etiquette

THE HOSEMASTER’S BASICS OF WINE APPRECIATION 4

You’ve decided that you want to learn about wine, and that one of the best ways to learn about it is to travel to wine country and taste. This couldn’t be further from reality. Tasting rooms are the major source of misinformation in the wine business, aside from wine blogs, winery press releases and Food and Wine. But your heart is set on it, you’ve booked the cheapest hotel in the county (the bed vibrates, but not as much as the mini-fridge), and you’ve mapped out your tastings. But you’re not really sure how to behave in tasting rooms, what the proper etiquette is, how to appear professional and wine-savvy. Well, have no fear, in this edition of Basics of Wine Appreciation, we’ll learn all about tasting room etiquette.

What do I wear to a tasting room?

One of the most important things to wear to a tasting room is cologne. Tasting rooms are usually pretty crowded, and the aroma of dozens of inebriated humans on a hot day is surprisingly reminiscent of Nick Nolte’s G-spot. Wearing a lovely splash of cologne, preferably something your grandmother adored, like Elizabeth Taylor’s “I’m Dead,” is particularly welcome. It’s natural to wonder how your cologne might interfere with the aromas of the wines being served, but that’s not your problem. Besides, there’s nothing worse than standing next to a woman wearing perfume in a tasting room when you’re without; in which case it is perfectly acceptable to fight back with your Constitutional Right to life, liberty and the pursuit of flatulence. Soil is not just important to wine. Ah, yes, there’s methane to your madness.

When it comes to clothing, yes, it is important to wear it. Have you seen how ugly the people are in tasting rooms?

What’s the proper way to taste each wine?

Your generous hospitality representative will pour you a small taste of each wine. It is not appropriate to insist, “I’ll say when” while they’re pouring. Or, “That’s barely a mouthful--like my wife.” You may then swirl the wine in the glass, though it’s ineffably stupid to do so. The damn wine’s been open all day, you think swirling it’s going to do anything? It’s like Mike Wallace, it’s not going to breathe any more! And, for God’s sake, don’t say something stupid about the “legs.” This is an instant tip-off you’re an idiot. Legs are about as important to wine as they are to snakes and land mines. And no one cares if you think it’s a pretty color either. What are you, six? “Ooh, that’s so pretty.” If wineries cared about the color do you think they’d put the stuff in green bottles?

Once you’ve managed not to look stupid just getting that first taste, now it’s time to actually put it in your mouth. Ladies, don’t forget to apply plenty of lipstick first. This will not enhance your tasting experience, but it does royally piss off the tasting room help who have to wash the glassware. And showing your contempt for them subconsciously reminds them of the sommeliers, wine writers and wine shop owners they are called upon to serve, and makes them hold you in higher regard. (Insider’s tip: If you don’t have any lipstick with you, try rubbing some of the complimentary cheese around the rim of the glass!) Hold the wine up to your nose, put your nose as far into the glass as it will allow, and inhale deeply. Think about what you’re smelling in this pristine tasting room environment. Lipstick? The trembling mini-Chihuahua in the woman’s purse next to you (it’s not a dog, it’s a personal vibrator!)? The guy next to you expressing his Constitutional rights in response to your splash of Lindsey Lohan’s “Jailhouse Rape" perfume? Once you’ve pegged the aromas, take a taste of the wine itself. There, you’ve done it, you’ve managed to taste a wine in a prestigious appellation’s tasting room and not make a jackass of yourself. You’re welcome.

What is the etiquette for expectorating?

It’s not required that you spit, but if you do, make sure it’s wine. Spitting is otherwise frowned upon, though you may pick your nose. It pairs nicely with orange wines. If you decide to spit, step away from the spit bucket (often called a dump bucket, but, frankly, that’s REALLY frowned upon) about two feet and release a long, graceful arc of the wine into the receptacle. It’s best to practice this technique at home before your big trip. Make sure and practice in all kinds of weather conditions, particularly with a strong breeze in your face. It is acceptable to spit the wine directly into the spit bucket, but, really, you came here to have fun, right? Let it fly.

Remember, there are no taste buds in your throat. Those are cancerous nodules you feel. Professionals taste the wine, then spit it out. Mostly because they show up drunk and don’t want to fall down or pass out, but, still, it’s a good idea. And, it gives you the appearance of being an expert, though wearing that bib probably cancels that out.

What will I learn from the tasting room staff?

Tasting room staff are impeccably trained to answer all of your wine questions. However, so is a Magic Eight Ball, which is considerably more accurate. You will certainly learn, however, information that will teach you a great deal about that magical product that tasting rooms are charmingly dedicated to. I’m speaking, of course, about their wine club. They always have cutesy names, sort of like how we refer to our genitals, and, similarly, some come every month, others once a year. The Duckhorn Monthly Bills. Rombauer Selections—the R.S. Club. Fess Parker’s That’s a Giant Crockett Club. That’s what you’ll learn about.

But, honestly, learning about wine from hospitality employees is like learning about horses from the guy who cleans the stalls. Shoveling manure is a gift, and both vocations are accomplished at it.

Is it OK to show up drunk?

Tasting room employees are carefully trained to refuse service to anyone visibly intoxicated. Don’t let that discourage you. You planned on visiting six wineries a day, you don’t like to spit because, “That’s a waste!,” and if you can just eat a dozen more tasting room crackers you’ll be fine to drive the country road and stop at more than half the stop signs and barely clip the bicyclists (if done gracefully, you may be awarded both ears and the jersey). You’re fine. Don’t worry about it. Just mention how interested you are in the WINE CLUB! Always, always, mention the wine club. This soothes the fears of tasting room employees, makes them see you as visibly intoxicating, a crucial difference.

You’re in wine country, dammit, the whole economy relies on insobriety. You’re simply being a patriot. Is it OK to show up drunk? What kind of question is that? It’s not only OK, it’s your solemn responsibility. Give me liver failure, or give me death!  

 

What We're Reading

Compiled by the editors of HoseMaster of Wine™

DR. VINO:  Check out this week’s impossible food-wine pairing—crow! Dr. Vino eats a lot of that, and wonders what wine would best accompany it. First guy to say Ravenswood becomes the next impossible food-wine pairing—human prairie oysters. Pretty sure Leslie Sbrocco knows what pairs with those pairs. In another post, Dr. Vino investigates wine labels. “They just don’t come off in hot water any more. Can the glue be good for the environment? Are our children being poisoned by big corporate wineries?

Can I drum up another fake controversy?” If you can’t, who can?

WINE ENTHUSIAST:  Paul Gregutt writes about the unheralded star of Washington wines—Paul Gregutt. Steve Heimoff has an interesting feature on the “Hairiest Winemakers in California” and bemoans the fact that not enough of them are men. Virginie Boone talks to readers about the importance of vineyards in “Oooh, They’re So Pretty.” And Roger Voss wanders around the Loire Valley because he’s too proud to ask for directions.

CONNOISSEURS’ GUIDE: Editor Charles Olken predicts what’s ahead in wine in the coming year. “More wineries will send me samples, sommeliers will be headed for the unemployment line, and Jon Bonné will marry a chimpanzee.” Co-editor Stephen Eliot writes a haunting piece that wonders why Charlie is planning to move the apostrophe back a space.

WALL STREET JOURNAL:  Jay McInerney is invited to a hundred-year vertical of Chateau d’Yquem by Justin Bieber and wonders which one is sweeter in the mouth. And don’t miss Lettie Teague’s assessment of the 2009 vintage in Bordeaux, “Great vintage, but I prefer Cabernet.”

PALATE PRESS:  Palate Press is the “My Weekly Reader” for wine bloggers. Check out the fascinating feature on Malbec in “How Many Words Can You Make from ‘Malbec?’” Clam…Came…Blame…Beam…LAME… In “Wine Conversations,” there’s an interview with the Robert Mondavi winery dog, Poopus One, that will leave you howling. And, finally, the ultimate guide to being a successful wine blog, “Write Really Fast.”

eROBERT PARKER:  The investigative report is in, and Dr. of Love Jay Miller is exonerated. Yes, some money changed hands, Robert Parker writes, but Miller was inflating scores long before that; and Spanish wineries weren’t promised access to Miller, they were only promised access to Miller LITES! Simple mix-up it only takes 3000 pages to explain. And Antonio Galloni talks about dumping on Parker’s California cult wines and creating his own. “I don’t hand out 100 point scores like they’re condoms in Africa. When I hand out 100 point scores they mean something. Power. I’m the new Pope, Baby! I speak for God.”

WINE SPECTATOR:  “Wines are tasted completely blind when reviewed by Wine Spectator critics,” says publisher Marvin Shanken in a hard-hitting editorial, “it’s those damned ad sales people that screw with the scores.” The new Grand Awards for restaurant wine lists are announced—the crappy one at Greystone is nowhere to be seen. Tim Fish on his love affair with winery logo polo shirts.

NEW YORK TIMES:  The New York Times tasting panel rates Chinese wines in honor of Jeremy Lin. The result? Read “Knicks and Nix—both Overrated.” Eric Asimov visits rich people that own wineries. “They just smell better.”

PLAYBOY:  Wine columnist for Playboy.com 1WineDoody lists his favorite jug wines. 

Wine Terrorists

No one really likes to talk about it. But wineries are afraid. Lives and reputations are at stake. Am I speaking about Antonio Galloni taking over from Robert Parker? No. No one cares about that. The Pope dies, white smoke comes from the Vatican, and Pope Antonio the First carries the scepter and Holy Tastevin. Nothing changes but the size of the ring you kiss. The ring around your guest house bathroom tub. Am I speaking about the slow pace of the economic recovery? No. Wineries quickly adjust, they are remarkably adept at losing money in every sort of economy--it’s what they do. And superbly. Am I speaking about climate change? No. Wineries welcome climate change. The vast majority of them have the wrong varieties planted in the wrong place anyway. Climate change gives them a shot at a good vintage like they’ve never had before. So what is it that wineries don’t want to talk about, yet fear?

Wine Terrorism!  (Cue the theme from “Psycho,” or “Love Story,” you choose)

I wasn’t able to get any wineries to speak on the record about these dangerous and well-organized groups for fear of being targeted. But the fear in their eyes when I brought up the subject spoke volumes. Who are these terrorist organizations, you ask? Here is a brief list of a few of the wine terrorist groups wineries fear the most.

No Added Sulfighters

Led by their notorious founder, Alice “the Gravedigger” Feiring, the NAS has made it their job to ruin wineries that adulterate their wines by adding sulfites. This is a very dangerous group, unafraid to use whatever means necessary to destroy their enemies. The NAS believes that adding sulfites is unnatural, like wearing panties on your head, or eating your own or someone else’s bougars, or getting enjoyment from wine. And it must stop. At first, the NSA used propaganda, spreading the word that sulfites were harmful and caused headaches in white women. They lobbied to have the words “Contains Sulfites” added to wine labels, as though it wasn’t the alcohol that would kill you first. Yet wineries continued to add sulfites at bottling. NAS escalated its attacks, resorting to violence and mayhem, and, even-worse, name-calling. Their first attack used nerve gas. Twenty members of NAS wearing ski masks entered the tasting room at Rodney Strong Vineyards and, while shouting, “Kiss my SO, too!” simultaneously released deadly sulfur compounds—from their pants! Frightened and startled guests panicked, thinking they’d mistakenly landed in the Sierra Foothills, and in the stampede that followed several Millenials were hurt when they inadvertently sobered up and heard how everyone hates them.

In another incident, which wineries and Homeland Security are reluctant to talk about, the NAS filled a windowless van with explosives made from fertilizer packed into cow horns. Only luck and an anonymous tip foiled the NAS plans. Had the van exploded, it would have been a terrible example of Carbombic Maceration.

How far will the NAS go? Wineries are scared. Owners have received late night phone calls from The Gravedigger, most threatening, but a few just asking to see if they wanted to talk and what they were wearing. Bottling line operators report that they’ve had to put their sulfites under lock and key. In one famous case, an NAS operative infiltrated one winery and was able to switch the sulfites to sugar before the wines were bottled. The Rombauers are still scared, though sales of their wines have skyrocketed. The NAS says they will not stop until every offending winery is punished. And offending, well, it’s what most wineries do.

TCA Baggers

The TCA Baggers are an ultraconservative group led by the mysterious Sheldon “Screwy” Stelvin. Very little is known about the group, their activities and whereabouts are kept under a very tight seal--that you’d think would be easy to crack. Their goal is said to be the elimination of all other closures for wine besides the Screwcap. “We believe that a wine’s life begins when it’s first screwed,” Screwy Stelvin wrote in his seminal (semenal?) manifesto, “A Tree Barks in Brooklyn,” “and that those who continue to abort a wine with TCA-laden corks should be killed, jailed, or forced to judge Cab/Syrah blends from Paso Robles.” Dangerous words, indeed.

Cork forests in Portugal have had to install elaborate security systems to keep TCA Baggers (known as "Quercus Clowns" to authorities for their habit of piling 20 members into a Mini-Cooper) from poisoning the ancient oaks. No one is allowed into the forest before he is screened for explosives, hazardous materials and ah-so’s. Even so, there have been breaches in security. In one famous case, a suicide bomber was able to get access to a cork oak forest. His bomb badly misfired, however, and he simply pinged around the forest off the trunks of the oaks for about thirty-five minutes.

Alc Hide-a

The most dangerous of all the wine terrorist groups, Alc Hide-a is led by the elusive and brilliant Osama bin Dealched. His band of terrorists insist that wine over 12% alcohol is against God’s will, a sin that deserves death, and lousy with food. Alc Hide-a is the most sophisticated of the terrorist groups. New recruits are flown to secret training facilities in San Francisco where they are indoctrinated in the evils of high alcohol by terrorist sommeliers secretly pledged to the teachings of bin Dealched. While Homeland Security designates all sommeliers as suspected terrorists, they usually don’t bother spying on them. Sommeliers are notoriously easy to track. Just follow the trail of snoot.

Once indoctrinated, new recruits are taught to infiltrate normal society to spread the word that lower alcohol wines are better, while wines that are luscious, rich and satisfying are unnatural, corrupt and provide far too much fun. Wine, Alc Hide-a believes, is not meant to be fun; rather, it is meant to be brought to the table in order to rob a meal of as much pleasure as possible, joys of the flesh being sinful and the work of Satan. They point to all the dead winemakers in Hell as proof.

Osama bin Dealched is believed to be hiding in the emotional desert of Napa Valley in a remote wine cave. He leads tours for wine club members only.

What Seems Like An Eternity Decomposing with Andy Rooney

Yes, I know you’re all sick of it, which assumes I write this blog for anyone aside from myself and the sad little alien who lives in my mailbox, W. Blinky Gray, but Andy Rooney won’t leave me alone. He has a lot of opinions about wine and the wine business, and now that he’s not broadcasting any more, because HE’S DEAD, he has asked me to communicate his thoughts and grievances. Be grateful. I could easily be channeling other dead guys, like Chester A. Arthur and his wife Bea. Or James Suckling. We are at a turning point in the world—there are as many dead people to talk to as there are living people to talk to. But the dead all speak a universal language. Insanity, in which I am fluent.

ON ALCOHOL LEVELS

There’s been a lot of discussion in wine chat rooms and on wine blogs, you know, places where really sad and lonely people hang out to try and impress each other with their knowledge of a subject that is deeply and genuinely meaningless, about how much alcohol is appropriate for wine. They never say anything that makes any sense. Wouldn’t it really be for the best if wine didn’t have any alcohol at all? Then we could get rid of that stupid warning label on every bottle of wine, and pregnant women could start operating heavy machinery again. I’d like that. A woman in a hardhat arouses me, maybe because it’s been a long time since my hat was hard. And if there weren’t any alcohol in wine we could drink a lot more of it. Wine wouldn’t be about quality, it would be about quantity, which would eventually bring down the prices of even the most expensive wines. Imagine a 2009 Chateau Lafite selling for twenty dollars. Without the alcohol, it’s probably not even worth that. In fact, Lafite is utterly worthless without alcohol. Yet this is the thanks alcohol gets. People want less of it in their wine. These hypocrites who run their mouths off about alcohol levels pretend they don’t drink the wine for the alcohol. They say they care about “balance.” Like you’d rather date an anorexic gymnast than a nice drunk girl. Just drink the wine and stop reading the alcohol percentage listed on the label. You sound like an idiot.

Yeast work hard to create alcohol, and then they die. Those people babbling in chat rooms should do the same.

ON MERLOT

I wish everyone would stop talking about Merlot. Merlot is a subject more tired than Madonna’s vagina. I can say that, I’m old and dead. Remember when Merlot was the most popular red wine in America? Every restaurant offered Merlot by-the-glass. I started to think Clos du Bois was Blanche’s other sister. “I have always depended upon the blindness of strangers.” It wasn’t long before every wine writer and expert was complaining about Merlot. They said it was ruined by its success, it was planted in all the wrong places, and only inexperienced wine lovers were dumb enough to order it when superior wines like Syrah and Sangiovese were available. But people kept on buying it.  It’s easy to understand why the wine experts were upset. Merlot had become popular even though wine critics hadn’t been pushing it, in fact, it was popular despite them. Sommeliers hated it, but it outsold everything on their esoteric, ego-driven wine lists. Wine experts don’t like it when the public ignores what they say and order what they enjoy. Wine isn’t actually about drinking what you like, though that’s what they always tell you. It’s about drinking what they like.

Then Merlot became unpopular. Most people think it’s because of one line in a bad movie called “Sideways.” Paul Giamatti, who I think is the Merlot of actors, I just wish he’d go away, he’s starting to seem cheap, says, “I won’t drink any f***in’ Merlot.” This line supposedly ruined sales of Merlot. It didn’t. Hollywood likes to take credit for everything. Except “John Carter.” And Fatty Arbuckle.

But once Merlot was declared dead, the critics decided to resurrect it. Now everyone is trumpeting the virtues of Merlot. Merlot is underrated, Merlot is making a comeback, Merlot should run for President on the Green Tea Party ticket. Many of these are the same people who couldn’t wait to see it die--wine journalists and sommeliers. For some reason, they just like to yammer on about Merlot.

I wish they’d find something else to talk about. Maybe if I say, “I won’t drink any f***in’ Moscato,” they’ll talk about me.

ON WINE GIZMOS            

I have a fondness for wine gizmos, I think all men do. Women don’t really like gizmos as much as men, they’re more practical and more intelligent. But they buy gizmos for their boyfriends and husbands, like how you buy chew toys for your dog. Give him something to do. It isn’t really a bone, but it sure seems like your dog thinks it is.

I have a bunch of those wine gizmos here. This one is a grey rubber valve that goes into the neck of an open bottle of wine. Then you take this white gizmo and pretend you’re pumping all of the air out of the bottle. I’m sure they got this technology from NASA. I’m not sure what kind of boob thinks this works, but pumping this thing up and down makes boys happy. I don’t have to tell you why. They all want to do it at least once a day.

Here’s one of my favorite gizmos. It’s an aerator. See, you put the wine glass underneath it, pour your favorite Pinot Noir through it, and the wine bubbles and froths and goes into the glass filled with oxygen. This is supposed to make the wine taste better. All the science says it doesn’t, that you get the same result just pouring the wine directly into the glass, that the effect of oxygen on wine takes an hour to happen, but this is fun. It’s like being a mad scientist. Or maybe Fatty Arbuckle. And people actually believe it does taste better immediately after going through an aerator, but these are the same people who think assigning numbers to wine is science too. We need to be nice to them.

I don’t know about you, but when I go to a wine lover’s house and he has a bunch of gizmos, I wonder if he actually knows anything about wine. Wine isn’t about toys. Sex is.

Parkergate: The Results of the Investigation Are In. We Won!

The Wine Advocate hired the firm of Spin, Misdirect, Obfuscate, Kneejerk and Evade (SMOKE) to investigate whether the conduct of Dr. Jay Miller had compromised the standards of independence expected by The Wine Advocate. We focused on two questions:

1. Did Jay Miller receive anything of value, other than money, prestige and complimentary burro rides, for visiting a winery, tasting a wine for review, or promising inflatable Robert Parker dolls to grateful importers?

2. How could there possibly be confusion between Jay Miller’s tastings conducted for The Wine Advocate and “private” seminars the jackass didn’t tell Mr. Parker about for which he was handsomely paid though he spoke in gibberish the whole time and mostly complained he didn’t get enough respect from those other jackholes that review wines from The Wine Advocate who call him Mr. Toad.

To answer those crucial questions in the manner expected, SMOKE reviewed documents, emails, invoices, cigarette butts, doctored expense reports, junk mail from erectile dysfunction cures, blog posts, financial statements, and old reruns of “The Cisco Kid.” All while still searching for Nicole Brown Simpson’s real murderer (who we now suspect is the blogger Jim Budd, but that’s ultimately only speculation). The investigation concluded that Jay Miller is simply stupid. This is not the fault of The Wine Advocate. It’s simple genetics. You can’t hold someone responsible for genetics. He’s a naïve idiot, and that’s what everyone whose ever met  him would tell you. We wish we’d never heard of him. In the light of all the evidence, SMOKE also has some recommendations for The Wine Advocate to avoid any future appearances of impropriety.

Jay Miller’s Assignment in Spain

After working with Pancho Campo, M.W. (“Crook”) and The Wine Academy of Spain (“Pendejos”) at a Wine Future event, Robert Parker asked Crook if he would be willing to help Toady with logistics and translations during his Spanish wine assignments. The only phrase Jay Miller understood in Spanish was, “Yo quiero Taco Bell!” Crook agreed to help, at no charge, though he seemed to have a severe twitch in his right eye. From that point on, Crook assisted Toady with the logistics of his trips, helping with itineraries, providing translators, and reminding him that 90 in American converts to 96 in Euros.

During the course of five trips to Spain, Crook provided three services to Jay Miller. First, he booked approximately 85% of Toady’s appointments for only a small service fee taken directly from the pockets of the member wineries of Pendejos. Our investigation concluded, shockingly, that no one at The Wine Advocate was aware of how deeply Crook was involved in the scheduling of Toady’s winery visits. They thought he was using Yelp. Second, he arranged for Jay Miller to speak incoherently to members of various regional Spanish wine associations in exchange for a speaking engagement fee of $8000 to $10,000. Had Dr. Miller not been associated with The Wine Advocate, his expertise in Spanish wines would have merited a fee of bus tokens and week-old tortillas. Oddly, he did request the week-old tortillas. In part, because of the language barrier and the tendency of the Spanish winemakers to laugh uncontrollably at Miller’s Spanish wine knowledge, Crook handled the contracts and negotiations. Again, there is no evidence that anyone associated with The Wine Advocate had any idea how stupid Jay Miller is. It is not incomprehensible to believe that a man with a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology could be handily fooled by an M.W. An M.W. is exquisitely trained at fooling people. We get it, what’s wrong with you? The guy’s a dunce who doesn’t understand people, and Crook is a known con man. How is that The Wine Advocate’s fault? Third, Crook, as a practicing M.W. assisted Jay Miller in adjusting his scores, which was damned nice of him when you think about it.

No Evidence of Impropriety

Impropriety? No. Stupidity? Si.

The investigation spoke to many D.O.’s, private trade groups and winery associations and every one of them signed napkins to the effect that they were never under the impression that helping fund a lucrative speaking engagement for Dr. Jay Miller might possibly lead to a winery visit or favorable mention in The Wine Advocate. “What are we, Mexico?”

Furthermore, there was no evidence that Toady received any direct payments for visits to any wineries or organized regional tastings. Crook always took his cut first.

Jay Miller’s Resignation

Toady had planned all along to resign from The Wine Advocate. Hey, the guy’s stupid, but even he knows to quit while you’re ahead.

Recommendations

Based on SMOKE’s investigation, it is recommended that The Wine Advocate implement the following measures:

1. Award Higher Scores. In order to replace Dr. Miller in the eyes of the wine community while simultaneously deflecting criticism among Blobbers, The Wine Advocate should award higher point scores. 2009 Bordeaux would be a good place to start. Moron Blobbers will jump on that and forget all about this scandal, well, if it were a scandal, which it isn’t, that’s what we found.

2. Decline to publish Toady’s scores for Spanish wines written after June 30, 2011. Whether he was guilty or not, and we just convinced you he’s innocent and The Wine Advocate always knew he was innocent and, dammit, we were hired because he was innocent and they knew we knew how to make him innocent, his reviews should not be published. The Wine Advocate does not publish reviews from innocent contractors.

3. Continue the Practice of Actively Supervising Contactors' Reviews. Robert Parker occasionally conducts his own tasting of wines reviewed by his contractors, in general, but also, specifically, the highest rated wines. Not because he doesn’t trust them. No, why would he not trust a clinical psychologist to be a wine guru? Hell, Parker sometimes counsels families. Grace Family, Benziger Family, Jackson Family, Manson Family… Parker never once in the past took issue with Jay Miller’s ratings. This may require a separate investigation.

4. Make revisions to The Wine Advocate’s Writer Standards. Because, really, it isn’t made clear that working for the most influential and powerful wine publication in the world demands that you at least give the fucking impression that you’re not for sale. What are we, Mexico?