When buying the cheapest wine on the restaurant list are you getting what you pay for?
The other day a colleague and I were swapping notes form our vacations in Italy. Mine, taking place 2 summer ago, saw Courtney and I bombing around the Tuscan country side in a 6-gear Renault, stuffed to the gills on cinghiale (wild boar) and pecorino cheese. His, taking place last spring, had him trattoria hoping through Rome, guzzling litres of the house wine.
He said the best wine of his trip came from a dodgy little taverna on the outskirts of Rome, where he inadvertently booked his hotel. In a dark neighbourhood, filled with decaying buildings littered with graffiti (who knew that anything other than palatial country estates and charming Old World city apartments & cozy cafes existed in Italy?) he found himself in a bare bones restaurant — nothing ritzy, fancy … or even charming in that Italian way, but for 5 Euros, he bought a litre of the best wine he says he had on his trip. A Montelpuciano — a wine that can be hit or miss depending on the producer. He wasn’t excited to try it, and originally ordered a Barolo for 40 Euros more, but the restaurant owner talked him into the 5 Euro Montelpuciano, and my friend was quite happy he did.
And that got me to thinking: is the cheapest wine on the restaurant list really the worst they’ve got? Only placed there to cater to the plebeians & unwashed masses? Presumably, no. Most sommeliers will tell you there are buckets of great wines available for surprisingly affordable prices. And smart sommeliers will mark up their wines in creative ways so they can move stock — not collect it. Sure making money is the name of the game, that’s why restaurants are a business, but if a sommelier is worth his or her salt, they will give as much care and attention to the lesser priced bottles, as they do the cult classics where the only thing bigger than the following, is the price tag.
Here’s how most of the people in the business seem to go about pricing their lists: in the ballpark of about 30% cost, many will take advantage of a “sliding scale” with lower priced bottles doubled or even quadrupled in mark up, and high priced bottles maybe only marked up one and a half times. So, a sommelier who buys a bottle for $10, will then sell it for $45, knowing that this is still seen as affordable by many consumers, and he or she will get a nice profit from it. This will support the bottles that are purchased for, let’s say, $100, which may only be marked up to $175. So, the cheaper bottles are sold for 4 times their worth, while the pricier items are sold for not quite double their wholesale price.
However, just because a wine doesn’t ring in in the triple digits, doesn’t mean it’s swill; I have prided myself on hunting those great bargains, and the sticker shock I get come in the form of how affordable these tasty gems are — not how I’d be required to remortgage my house to enjoy a glass. In turn, I’ve been able to pass these finds to my guests, offering delicious bottles that hold good fruit, intriguing complexity, nice acidity and a decent length for list prices as low as $35 with many staying happily profitable within the $50-$60 range. Not only am I happy drink them, but I am happy to recommend them.
So, next time you’re dining out and feel sheepish about ordering the $30 bottle, don’t. If the restaurant is a good one, with smart people running it, those bargain bottles are on the list because it’s a win-win: inexpensive enjoyment for you; nice profitability for the sommelier — something that both of you can take to the bank.