Vintage of the Century: Act 1

The Judgement of Paris:

Wearing a simple white shirt under a subtly colored sport coat, he appeared a quiet, unassuming young man. He resembled a British gentleman with a closely trimmed beard and mustache, a man who might have played an RAF wing commander in a WW2 movie. I could also easily envision him playing across from Douglas Fairbanks Jr. and Cary Grant in the 1939 movie Gunga Din. He could have filled those roles. And along with that savoir-faire, he carried an air of amusement and displayed a wry, intelligent wit. What was he really about I wondered, and why is he a sidekick to Nicolai?

Z-man met Nicolai while studying at the University of Washington and somehow bonded. A curious thing as he always seemed to me a very different character, who partnered with and yet contrasted to Nicolai, playing the yin to Nicolai’s yang. They had some amazing adventures together, not the least of which was when the fully clothed Z-man accompanied Nicolai on his epic nude ascent of Mt. Rainier. It wasn’t clear at the time how they had come together but Z-man who started out inspecting the sewing of Omnipotents, our distinctive 2-person mountaineering tent, soon assumed the role as head of our direct marking efforts when we created our second Omnipotent catalog.

It made sense, as Nicolai had told me that Z-man had prior experience as a rock and roll band promoter, and even earlier, while in high school had run his own direct mail business selling various fishing lures and artificial worms. Z-man later put that experience to good use when he created the solo mailer that introduced our breakthrough Light Dimension Gore-Tex fabric backpacking tent. Z-man conceived the marketing mailer, performed the graphic work, wrote the headlines and copy, and selected the mailing lists that would reach our target audience. That little mailer surprised us, generating record sales. Z-man was good, really good. As I got to know him better, one thing was clear, he was a curious man with considerable talent and many interests.

‘The Judgement of Paris,’ a title lifted from a story based in Greek mythology, had just appeared in print. But this title referred instead to a story of a 1976 wine tasting in Paris, an event that would turn the world of fine wines upside down. Actually, a competition organized by Steven Spurrier, a British wine merchant. The judges were all French, and the kicker was that the tasting had pitted California wines against the finest French wines of the day. The tastings would be blind with two separate flights, one for the Chardonnay varietal and the other for the reds, California Cabernet versus French Bordeaux. Everyone expected the French wines to sweep the competition, so the tasting was not well attended by the press. If the result was pre-ordained, who cared? Only one journalist showed up.

However, the outcome was an unexpected shock! The French judges and the entire wine world were greatly surprised, actually flabbergasted when the bottles were unmasked and the identities of the highest-ranked wines revealed. The 1973 Stags Leap Wine Cellars California Cabernet Sauvignon trounced the first growth French Bordeaux, the best the French had to offer. And the 1973 Chateau Montelena California Chardonnay had absolutely wiped the floor with Burgundy’s finest white wines. Incroyable! Word of the extraordinary results spread like wildfire through the entire wine world.

I knew Z-man would appreciate this story and its ironic twist of fate. After relaying the article, I proposed that we too should host a comparative wine tasting. It was like tossing chum to a shark. Z-man bit without hesitation, and we soon collaborated on a mission to put together what we named ‘The Great White Burgundy Tasting.’ Why waste hyperbole when you can use it for a fun event? The game plan, the game of wines, was to purchase six notable white burgundies and invite four more friends to dinner and a comparative tasting to experience and learn more about these fabled white wines from France.

Each of the six of us would pitch in $25 to cover expenses for food and wine. Once funded, we commenced, focusing on location, menu, food, wine acquisition, marketing, and education. Initial dining logistics consisted of prepping our tasting space, first by buying a table cloth to cover a construction-grade sheet of plywood that sat on saw horses (my makeshift dining room table). We then bought patterned cloth napkins and a 36-count case of large balloon wine glasses. Six tasting glasses would sit regally clustered in front of each attendee, the tools for comparing and contrasting our subjects, the white Burgundies.

I acquired the wines from a tiny boutique wine shop just off the lobby of Seattle’s then-famous Olympic Hotel. The seasoned proprietor was knowledgeable and delighted to assist in the selection after I explained our concept. The names and places were so intriguing that I was already swept up in the romance of the tasting to come. The wines selected for the flight were a Corton-Charlemagne, a Puligny Montrachet, a Chassagne Montrachet, a Chablis Les Preuses, a Pouilly-Fuissé, and a Meursault-Charmes. A notable group!

Our friends arrived bearing both friendly greetings and eager anticipation. I then commenced, carefully grilling the lobster tails, one for each taster, while Z-man pulled corks and handed out a large menu-sized graphic page with text and maps that romanced the backstory of each wine and what we might expect. In a fit of inspiration, he had designed and written it from scratch for just this one tasting. Printed on a heavy paper stock, it was both marketing, erudite wine information, and a takeaway souvenir of the evening.

We presented the wines slightly chilled and tasted each in turn, slowly pausing to swirl and to comment while they developed as the evening progressed. The wines deserved and received our rapt attention. They were, after all, the stars of the show. And as they warmed up, they blossomed with intoxicating fragrances, aroma, and bouquet, layers of flavors, subtlety, nuance, and complexity. We didn’t then know much about wines. But we knew these wines were special. That much was obvious.

As such evenings go, it was over all too quickly. As our guests left, they each raved about the meal, the wines, and the wine tasting process. Z-man and I found it gratifying to pull it off, the whole enterprise inspired by a blind tasting in a faraway place, the revered city of light, Paris, France. We did not know it at the time, but we had just entered mysterious waters and would soon head toward the deep end.