I fear for Pinot Noir. The enchanting wine that first captured my imagination is in danger of earning a tarnished reputation. The California Pinot Noir story started innocently enough when a few daring vintners risked financial ruin to pursue a worthy rendition of the elusive red wine of Burgundy. These folks cut bud wood from the few existing heirloom Pinot Noir vines stateside, or they "found" European selections in their suitcases upon return from Pinot Mecca and then grafted these DNA laden twigs onto rootstocks planted in their home vineyards.

While a few of these first generation wines worked, most didn’t, and a drinkable one was a rare find. Happy accidents did occur, and when they got it right, the wines were sublime. What the early zealots lacked in skill, they made up in a deep appreciation and respect for what Burgundy stood for, both stylistically and spiritually. They knew how hard it was to find, let alone make a classically styled Pinot Noir, one that straddles the razor’s edge of ripeness, where bright acidity dances with sweet red fruit. A wine with a sense of place, kissed by a patch of earth that gave birth to its personality. A wine complex with hints of peat, forest floor, saddle sweat, and spice, whose story would slowly unfold, teasing, enticing, and ultimately thrilling. These early producers were not looking for accolades; they pursued Pinot Noir in the spirit of the pioneer with the reverence of the congregant and the commitment of the artisan.

Then a new preacher came to town who promised them a better way. He said, "Make wine in my image, and you will be rewarded with riches." And many followed. They forsook the old ways and betrayed the land by planting clones that produced high alcohol, low acid, sweet tasting wines. These wines found praise, and more followed. They learned to make wine in a laboratory to please the Critical One, then went forth and multiplied.

I am afraid because I’ve seen it before. I watched Chardonnay, the white grape of Burgundy, go from belle of the ball to class clown in little over a decade. The story is almost identical. An elegant, restrained, cuisine-oriented wine became a thick, high alcohol, low acid, oaky, sweet concoction that enamored the critics, while the committed wine drinker chanted, "A.B.C!" - "Anything But Chardonnay!" It took years for the wine to recover from its well earned stigma.

When Miles screamed, "I am NOT drinking any f%*#ing Merlot," he outed, on camera, one of the most popular wines of the nineties. His rant played chorus to the public’s silent but growing dissatisfaction with the grape, precipitating an unprecedented drop in Merlot’s popularity. Its rise and fall had an uncanny parallel to that of Chardonnay, only much more dramatic.

Many Pinot Noir drinkers have never tasted a classic rendition of the wine. A whole new generation exists without a point of reference. They only know the new, over-the-top styles that have as much elegance and restraint as vanilla cherry cola. I fear for my beloved Pinot Noir as it teeters on the precipice, poised to fall prey to the same fate that befell Merlot and Chardonnay. I am afraid that one day someone will have their close-up and blurt out, "Pinot Noir sucks!" and shove all Pinot Noir, both elegant and clumsy, off the cliff.

A classic should not suffer at the whim of fashion. I am hopeful that enough wine lovers know the difference and that growers will pursue their own vision instead of conforming to the tyranny and narrow palate of some critics. I am optimistic that foodies will discover classically proportioned Pinot Noir. I hope that as barrel costs increase, winemakers will turn to the quality and expression of their fruit to inform the wine rather than rely on the cosmetics of the cellar. I hope that as the organic and biodynamic movements takes hold, training in the subtleties of farming will translate to elegance in the finished wine and minimize remedial winemaking.

I fear for Pinot Noir because, ultimately, we have no control over the marketplace. As a winery, all we can do is grow and make pure, honest wines we want to drink and share them with others who want to drink them as well.