Apr. 10, 2003
Until recently, the question I received most often from
readers was "What wine goes best with (name of your
dish here)?" Since November or December of last year,
however, a new query has achieved prominence: "What
do you think about Two Buck Chuck?"
In case you haven't heard, Two Buck Chuck is the
moniker for a new line of California wines sold under the
Charles Shaw label. The wines in the line include a
Cabernet, Merlot, Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc. Each is
packaged in a reasonably expensive-looking bottle with a
real cork (well, a "real" synthetic cork) and a
nice foil capsule. The kicker is that the full retail
price of Two Buck Chuck is $1.99 a bottle (in some areas
readers may find a price of $3.49. According to a
spokesman for Trader Joe's, the difference reflects
shipping costs and differing state regulations.)
There is no Charles Shaw winery. Two Buck Chuck is
bottled by the Bronco Wine Co., which is owned by Franzia,
the box-wine juggernaut. It is sold exclusively at Trader
Joe's stores. The company is selling so much (an estimated
1 million cases a month) that it can barely keep the wine
on the shelf. Actually, "shelf" is the wrong
word. I've seen it only on palette-size floor displays
that quickly disappear as customers transfer the wine into
their shopping carts and then to the back of their Chevy
Suburbans.
And how is the wine? Well, it's not what I would call
good. On the other hand, it's not terrible. Let's call it
a C minus. At two bucks a bottle, a C minus is a pretty
reasonable return on investment. The Cabernet is the best
of the lot. The finish is brittle, and the nose is from
box-wine central, but there's enough red fruit on the
mid-palate to make it acceptable, provided it is served
with some food to mask its thinness.
At this point, however, I must part company with much
of the commentary from the wine trade and the wine press.
The general opinion seems to be that Two Buck Chuck is
selling well for the simple reason that it is cheap. This
is not correct. Nor do I believe that Two Buck Chuck sells
well because it is a good wine for the money. It really
isn't, because I strongly suspect that it's pretty much
the same quality of wine that goes into the four-gallon
boxes.
So if it's not the low price and not the quality that
accounts for the enthusiastic consumer response to Two
Buck Chuck, what does explain it? It is this - Charles
Shaw is a dry wine. "Dry" means little or no
discernible sweetness on the finish. To exemplify, Chateau
Lafite Rothschild is dry; Le Chambertin is dry; by
contrast, the four-liter box of Franzia Cabernet Sauvignon
is not dry - you can taste what is called residual sugar
(a noticeable amount of sweetness) on the finish. This
sugar is not necessary to the wine in most cases. It is
added.
In this sense, Two Buck Chuck is revolutionary. In
fact, I predict that the astonishing success of Two Buck
Chuck - an inexpensive wine that is truly dry - will
change the way Americans drink wine. We are perceived as a
nation of Coca-Cola drinkers, hooked on sucrose and, with
the rare exception of the wine cognoscenti, unable to
appreciate a wine for its fruit, unless it is pumped up
with sugar. Mediocre though it may be, Two Buck Chuck
stands for precisely the opposite proposition.
If I am right, the implications are enormous. It is no
wonder that America is not a nation of wine drinkers if
what we have been offered in the truly affordable,
everyday price range, that of the box/jug wines, is
unpalatable. Let me emphasize that $5.99, the so-called
everyday price range you see in the ads and in the wine
press, though usually dry, is hardly priced for everyday
drinking. Most households can't afford anything close - $6
x 31 days is $186 a month. Heck, that's more than cable
TV.
So here is the proposition I would like to put up to
Franzia, Almaden Gallo (sold as Livermore Cellars) and all
other box and jug wine makers. Give American wine drinkers
a fair chance. Take a cue from Two Buck Chuck. When you
put those remarkably decent-for-the-price wines into the
boxes, keep your hands away from the sugar ladle.