A gatekeeper's job is putting unfamiliar wines in relevant (culinary) contexts
From the chapter: Culinary matters
Sure, you can sell just about anything. I once had a waiter on my staff who loved Sonoma-Cutrer Chardonnay. Seriously. I’d walk through his section and every one of his tables would be drinking that wine—every single night. It took me months before I convinced him that, ultimately, this was not to his benefit. As good as it is, in the context of different dishes and varying guest tastes it is not physically possible for Sonoma-Cutrer to maximize every dining experience. Because of that, it was probably hurting his tips, which finally got him to change and diversify his recommendations.
It is a sommelier’s instinct, of course, to sell diversity; selecting wines regardless of whether or not is popular or well known. That is why one of the traditional roles of sommeliers and restaurant wine buyers is, within the wine industry as a whole, one of gatekeeper. It is why winemakers and importers, or their crack sales forces, are always beating down sommeliers’ doors, anxious to bend their ears. Sommeliers, after all, are supposed to be the ones who can take their latest or least known, underappreciated wines and give them the attention they might deserve. Yet as we all know, not even sheer quality, newness or sense of excitement is enough to make a good wine fly.
What is a gatekeeper’s methodology? Same as it ever was: Clue in our suppliers on our needs, cherry-pick the best and most interesting wines we can find, introduce our choices to our staffs and chefs, highlight them on our bottle and glass lists, devise promotions or events, and get the word out through all means possible (table tents, email, snail mail, social media, etc.).
That’s the process. Then comes the hard part, which requires some wit. During one discussion about selling unfamiliar wines with several successful restaurateurs gathered in the original Sommelier Journal office in Boulder, one simple, sensible thought precipitated: That the most effective way of turning guests on to wines we love most (but which we wished guests loved more) is by making them relevant; and in most fine restaurants, that relevance is most easily achieved by placing them in ideal food contexts. The ideal dishes, for every wine, can set the hook, and give the most difficult-to-sell wines a meaning most guests can understand and appreciate.
Unless you’re lucky enough to work in one of those few restaurants where guests come in primarily to drink rather than to eat, here are just three scenarios illustrating how you might negotiate through the final gatekeeping process. If, indeed, you can sell anything, you can sell any of the following wines by giving your guests more foods for thought…
Light, lemony tart white wines…
Such as Picpoul or Jurançon, Verdejo or Verdelho, Muscadet or Montlouis, Quincy or Cheverny, Vermentino or Vinho Verde, Riesling trocken or halbtrocken, among many other wines of that ilk. If you’re up on it, you know that this stuff, though lots of fun, is notoriously taste-specific. The drying, sharply acidic qualities of such wines have never really appealed to the consumers accustomed to fat, fruity Chardonnays. However, these same consumers just might follow, say, the emerging Millennial and Gen Z consumers, who are definitely demonstrating a little more appetite for sharper tasting foods and drinks.
For the wine industry, however, an even bigger challenge has been weaning younger consumers away from their pomegranate mixes, hard seltzer, lemonade or Tang based cocktails and mocktails and getting them into classic fine wine. What's the strategy for luring all generations, young and old, towards higher acid wine experiences? For restaurants, it's by making things real for them by putting wines in the context of variations of sharp, acid driven appetizers—involving citrus fruits, traditional or infused vinegars, lemon grass or sorrel, chèvre, sour cream, rhubarb, or traditional tart white wine matches such as oysters in mignonettes, seviche, poisson cru and such.
For the longest time many restaurants did not sell higher acid wines because, the thinking goes, most guests don't like them. Yet at the same time, most restaurants of decent standing have never had any problem selling dishes with high acid ingredients. The average guest is not nearly as averse to tartness as generally assumed. Neither is suggesting wines with good acidity a hard sell. It's getting guests to experience both wines and dishes in the best possible light; which, after all, is the entire idea of restaurant cuisine, wine and service.
In the end, as any Trekkie (who still come in all ages) would say, logic clearly dictates: When tart sensations in wines are balanced by tart sensations in foods, suddenly even the most puckery, puzzling Piquepoul suddenly becomes relevant, Muscadet is no longer "old school," and even Vinho Verde or Alvarinho becomes... exciting, maybe even a little sexy or life-changing.
Round, low to moderate acid white wines…
Such as Marsanne or Roussanne, Pinot Blanc or Pinot Grigio, dryer Muscats, Graves or Friulano, Cassis or Chignin, Kerner or Chasselas, Sémillon and Sylvaner, Greek whites made from Assyrtiko, Athiri or Vidiano, or classic, frequently overlooked Trebbiano, Garganega or Malvasia based Italian whites (i.e., Frascati, Orvieto, Soave, or the rare Colle Picchioni) and even, dare I say, Chardonnay (especially white Burgundy, from Mâcon to Meursault): There are, in fact, more excellent medium-acid whites in the world than most of us can readily count, and they all have their place on the table.
Why? Because the old adage that the higher the acid the better the food versatility just doesn’t hold water. High acid whites can be less pleasant, for instance, with dishes in creamy, buttery or olive oil driven sauces, and a lot of what we eat is creamy, buttery or drenched in fats or olive oil. Therefore, low to moderate acid whites have always been staples of universal gastronomy. Julia Child's roast chicken, Gordon Ramsay's mushroom risotto, Wolfgang Puck's smoked salmon pizza, any pizza with any kind of mozzarella or, for that matter, all-time favorites such as macaroni and cheese, fettucine Alfredo, wiener schnitzel, nachos, tater tots or potatoes au gratin⏤the list of foods that taste a lot better with moderate acid whites than higher acid whites are far too many to count.
If you can't find an ideal food context in which to present an exciting Kerner, a sensational Marsanne, a classic Mâcon or timeless Cassis blanc, you probably aren't trying hard enough. It doesn't hurt to talk to chefs. Maybe couch your conversations in Mediterranean terms. Point being, soft or gently acidic, fruity, even “fat” whites made from grapes originating in Italy, Southern France, Greece and Spain only make sense with foods driven by the taste of fat, fruity olive oil, chick peas and legumes, nostril tingling garlic, nuts and bolts of bitter greens, oily fish and nuts. For many wines and foods, acidity might be a key component, but not necessarily the driving factor behind their eternally edible appeal.
Wines with salads…
The idea of wines and plates consisting primarily of vegetables makes sense for several culinary, if not practical or dietary, reasons; and even more so, when it involves leafy greens in soft, round, winey vinaigrettes, which have a natural affinity with wines of moderate to high acidity. Given, of course, a sensible approach, by matching food sensations to wine components. One example: Zesty-fruity Vouvray or domestic Chenin Blancs with a zesty-fruity mix of sweet tomatoes and onions, or salty chunks of Roquefort or feta balancing any residual sugars or the honeyed fruit profile in the wines (especially when there is honey in the vinaigrette).
Thus, any variation of Caprese (buffalo mozzarella, beefsteak tomato and basil) is always an effortless match with dry, viscous, moderate acid rosés (especially Tavel or Bandol, although many of world's contemporary style rosés will do) or basic Italian whites (Frascati, Orvieto, Verdicchio, Cortese, Arneis, et al.). Herb crusted chèvre salads are no-brainers with virtually any herby, sharp Sauvignon Blanc. Meatier salads composed of whole grain mustard, shredded duck or slivers of cold beef tinged with pungent balsamic vinegar are naturals with lighter Pinot Noirs, any Beaujolais or Chinon, and nearly all the lower tannin Tempranillo or Grenache based reds of the world.
The possibilities go on and on. Our bottom line message being: Yes, wine sales are driven by the quality of your wines and the proficiency of your staff. But when it comes to sales of high quality yet lesser known wines that enhance your wine program, your cuisine and overall restaurant profile, it makes sense to deliberately craft food contexts to highlight why many of these wines exist in the first place.
That is to say, if these are wines that have always made sense in their places of origin, they can make just as sense in any restaurant in the world. The key is creating culinary content, then letting what comes natural take its course.