And this from Parker, in 2002…
In reply to your related question, when I am tasting in the cellars, nothing is tasted blind. Yet I frequently do blind tastings. In fact, I can’t think of any year where my tastings with the Syndicate of Vacqueyras and Gigondas have not been blind. Most of the follow-up tastings from bottle held in my office are blind. No tastings of value priced wines are blind. I simply set up the bottles in a meaningful peer group (here the definition of peer group is expanded, although when I am looking for values from Italy, I only taste wines from one region, such as Tuscany or Abruzzi, before moving on to inexpensive offerings from another region of Italy). Blind tastings are primarily important to me as a follow-up procedure to guarantee what I tasted on site, or from barrel, is what is sold to the consumer as well as a confirmation of my palate. Yet the proper evaluation of a wine has nothing to do with blind tasting if the taster only cares about the quality in the bottle, not the pedigree, rarity, or cost of the wine being tasted.
(4.) Because I taste in peer groups, it is impossible to answer to your question, “would a 93-point California Chardonnay be better than a 92-point Pauillac?”. I believe my scoring system is universal based on an absolute standard that I have in my mind for each varietal (actually multiple reference points for multiple styles), and/or geographic regions. Of course, within that standard there are multiple stylistic approaches that one has to recognize. In Châteauneuf du Pape (currently on my mind), there are at least 4-6 major styles. Some might argue (with merit) that there are 80-100 different styles. Obviously Rayas couldn’t be more different from Beaucastel, which couldn’t be more different from Clos des Papes. The answer to your question is that in my mind, a 93-point California Chardonnay would be better than a 92-point grand cru white Burgundy. But you can’t jump to a totally different varietal or region and make such an assumption.
However, the tasting note is far more significant as it tells you everything I feel needs to be known. The California Chardonnay may have a tasting window of 1-3 years, whereas the 92-point white Burgundy may not be ready to drink for 3-4 years, and then might last for 15 or more. If a plus sign (+) is shown, it means I think the wine may be potentially better than I rated it. But, yes, within the varietal or regional peer group, a 93-point wine should be more complex, complete, or with greater hedonistic and intellectual potential than a 92-point wine made from the same varietal.
An absolute standard for all wines is nearly impossible because of the fact that I taste in such well defined peer groups. That said, I am pretty sure that I can effectively place a lighter-weight vintage (like 1997) in the context of my standard for Cabernet, Merlot, etc. based wines, not in the context of the vintage.
I abhor rating in the context of a vintage, a technique that is used apparently by Coates. This was discussed at length in another thread. By the way, I do think it favors the producer vis à vis the consumer. Why? Grading within the context of a vintage would, I assume, produce inflated grades for wines from so-so years. I tend to think that we all have limited budgets, and the ultimate goal is to buy the best wine you can for the amount of money you possess. Unless the 1997 Bordeaux vintage is being dumped at discounts of $10-$15 for classified growths, why would one buy that vintage vis à vis a great year, such as 1998 on the right bank or 1996 on the left bank?
(5.) The wines listed in the Hedonists’ Gazette are clearly indicated to be informal tastings. Those ratings, which I don’t consider to be nearly as accurate as those done under professional conditions, are simply knee-jerk reactions to a wine in a social setting. Thankfully, I am able to turn off my analytical powers when I am at a social event. When I am professionally tasting, I am in a zone with blinders on. But, when I am in a social context, I don’t want to sit down and total up points, analyze the wine, reflect upon it, ponder over it, and come up with a cumulative point score or tasting note. I usually taste it, swallow it (which I do not do when tasting professionally), and quickly make a mental notation of just how good it is. That’s it. The whole process of writing up tasting notes for The Wine Advocate is a far more elaborate, focused, and intense mental exercise. That explains why I am more mentally fatigued than palate fatigued at the end of a tasting day.
To summarize, I think good wine tasters/critics must be open-minded, totally candid about what they taste, independent from the wine trade, and be concise enough as a writer to explain in plain English what they have smelled and tasted. This only serves as a guide. The goal is that any wine rated 90 or above will, hopefully, elicit a wow from buyers, but even more importantly, I hope my enthusiasm gets readers to try wines, sometimes obscure ones, that they normally would not know about.
The most important part in tasting, aside from total honesty and focus, is the wine’s balance. Whether a wine is light, medium, or full-bodied, 100% new oaked, non-oaked, or something in between, everything must be in balance. Acidity, alcohol, and tannin all must be integrated and unobtrusive. As I have said time and time again, I believe that effective wine tasting is part analytical and part hedonistic. If I err in any direction, it is that I am more willing to overlook a minor defect if otherwise the wine is hedonistically thrilling.