As first world problems go, this one is a cracker: owning too much wine, more than you can ever hope to drink. As one avid Hong Kong-based wine collector puts it, ‘Like many things in life, you know you need to deal with it, but you don’t have to right this minute, so the problem goes on growing, which increases the reluctance to address it!’
The collecting instinct is certainly strong and the case studies outlined below may strike a chord with collectors of all stripes. They do with me.
Lawyer Ian Mill KC has that instinct in spades but has profited enormously from it. Bidding closed yesterday at Christie’s online on a second tranche of his collection, including a serious amount of Armand Rousseau burgundy. ‘When I started buying in the ’90s, it was all about consumption and sharing. It became a collection when I started viewing wine as an investment opportunity in the mid ’00s. Since then, disposal of part of my collection has been an ongoing inevitability, since I appear to be unable to stop buying, but my focus now is exclusively on finding great bottles of mature wine to share with friends.’
But few of those I spoke to were keen on selling. My North London friend with the best cellar I know muses on what became a habit: ‘I first became interested in wine in 1983. The 1982 clarets were on sale en primeur. I still have a copy of the opening offer from Bibendum (my nearest fine-wine store). Gruaud Larose £63 a case, Lynch-Bages £75, Beychevelle £80, Cheval Blanc £260. It seems scarcely credible. And this was when, for the first time in my life, I had some surplus cash. I bought enthusiastically, but also more or less blind – obviously, I’d never tasted older vintages of these wines. But that didn’t matter. I was buying future pleasure – a strange concept when you think of it. I certainly wasn’t buying as an investment. And I found all of the process alluring – the fragrant wood (and not-so-fragrant cardboard), the labels, the wording on the labels, the “certified invoices”, the idea of some of your wine being in Bordeaux, then being shipped, and so on. Also, the slow formation of your own taste.
‘I certainly never calculated how much I would need to last me the rest of my life – how many years that would be, and how many units per week. And I’ve never met a wine-lover who thought about it in this way. In one part of our brains, most wine-lovers believe in their own immortality. (Related to this, the only benefit of the years passing more quickly as you age is that your wine is doing the same, and turns out to be readier to drink than you imagine).
‘At first I had a small underground cellar in my house, so most of my wine was stored in Corsham, and with merchants. Then I built a bigger cellar, but paradoxically didn’t take much of my wine out of storage. And I carried on buying. I dreamed of future dinners – at the millennium, for example – but somehow never activated them when the time came. I bought wine from my friends’ birth years, from my wedding year, and so on. I started going to auctions, and meeting wine merchants – a companionable, if still largely male, crew on the whole.
‘Obviously, I made mistakes, especially when I followed the advice of wine writers with different palates. I bought a lot of Cornas in the 1980s without knowing that when I opened a bottle of it I would find it – well, “rustic” is putting it kindly. I got rid of the lot.
‘Occasionally, over the last 20 years or so, I have sold wine – usually when the price seemed to have gone so high that I felt it would be foolish to actually drink it. I sold a case of 1983 Le Pin; later, a half-case of 1982 Lafite at the peak of its usage in China as a form of currency (the merchant I sold it to also came back and paid £50 for the wooden case the bottles were in). But somehow this was anomalous behaviour; it didn’t encourage me to take a rational approach to my cellar and sell off some of my ageing bottles and cases.
‘I tell myself that my cellar is like a deposit or investment account, something to draw on when I need a major operation, or a family member needs bailing out. The fact that this hasn’t yet happened doesn’t mean that it won’t.
‘As you age, two things happen: (1) a degree of rationality breaks in, as you realise that buying en primeur clarets whose maturity you will never live to enjoy is, frankly, bonkers; and (2) your palate changes, for both food and wine. You eat less meat, for instance, so those gutsy, whopping reds are less called for. And if you are watching television with supper you probably don’t want to think too much about what you’re drinking. Nowadays, the only wine shop I visit is inside Waitrose, for good red Côtes du Rhône, Argentinian Chardonnay, and so on. I still enjoy buying wine, almost as much as I did 40 and more years ago.
‘Do I have any advice? Locate your palate, identify where each sort of wine sits on the pleasure/price continuum. (You will probably enjoy a good medium-priced champagne considerably more than a cheapo fizz, but do those monster-priced premium champagnes really give you twice/five times the pleasure? Almost certainly not.) Enjoy your mistakes, in buying and in blind-tasting. Also, when drinking, try to be as cost-blind and current-value-blind as possible. Money-thoughts will mess with your head. Try not to think of Parker-points or Broadbent stars. It’s just you, the wine, and the glass. It’s more enjoyable that way, I promise.
‘PS I see I still have a case of 1985 Barjac Cornas in storage. Any offers?’
Changing tastes is a common phenomenon among wine collectors. Celebrated Boston-based wine importer and wine writer Terry Theise reports, ‘I wish I could say I have a plan for my cellar. Perhaps I shall contemplate making one. My problem is, I’m overstocked on wines I don’t often drink any more, and never seem to have enough of the things I reach for all the time. The peril of changing taste. I blush to admit this, but I have diminishing use for wines with appreciable residual sugar. The modern German Spätlese and Auslese are sitting neglected. Part of that is we live in a colder climate now (Boston), which means a shorter summer which means fewer opportunities to relish such wines. Also we key in on cooking and are finding we have to “design” a meal to go with them. But don’t mistake me: I adore the feinherb type, that sort of “sweet/not sweet” dance such wines can do, and if the bloody Germans made more of them, I’d obtain more of them. They are more flexible at the table than dry wines.
‘I’m always groping to find Grüner Veltliner and Chenin Blanc in the cellar. There are a few but they need to be replenished often. I can never have enough Chablis. I can also use white wines of the more neutral sort, Pinot Blancs for example, which I’m constantly running out of. I’d love a bunch of Chasselas.
‘If I drank a bottle each day, I’d have enough wine to make it into my early-to-mid-eighties. But I’ve never actually done that inventory, because I’m scared to!
‘I keep my wine in our finished basement, whose temperature I can control with a/c in the warm season and simply by not running heat in the cold season. As I write it is 51 ºF (10.5 °C) down there. It slowly warms over the spring, and the a/c clicks on at 62 ºF (16.5 °C).
‘As a rule (or a few rules) I’d say to buy for the food you eat and the climate you live in. I don’t think it’s wise to buy wine to “lay down” for decades because I’m sceptical of the “golden moment” when a wine is perfect and we waste a lot of time chasing that moment. Don’t buy a wine that’s impossible to drink the day you take it home. Don’t overload on one type or category, as your tastes may change. Don’t stock your cellar with things you think you ought to like; stock it with things you actually do like. Scour the market for mature wines. It takes some doing but it can be done. I have sources for old Barolo and old Rioja (two favourites) and it is a deep joy to drink these without concern for the vagaries of my own storage. Finally, err on the side of youth for choosing when to open bottles. “This might have been better had we waited” is a lesser regret than “This would have been better had we opened it sooner.”’
On how long to keep wine, opinions differ. A fund manager who has retired to continental Europe advises, ‘Do not drink too soon. That is a global problem. You cannot see fine wine at its best if it is too young, and in my opinion, over 90% is drunk too young, perhaps as much as 98%. Pairing matters, too. Most wine is better with food. Also when shared with friends; and when there is some history or travel story to go with it. Wine seems to taste better when you know, and like, the maker and have visited the land where the vines grow.
‘I have around 5,000 bottles, of which about 1,500 in my cellar, and around 3,000 at Private Reserves. I have used them for over 30 years, and they have done an excellent job, especially tracking arrivals and departures. The climate at their cellars and conditions appear to allow for gradual maturation. The only risk lies in delivery. Do not do this in hot weather. That did not used to be a problem in the UK, now not so sure.
‘I do normally sell about 5% of my cellar each year, though more like 10% over the last 12 months. This partially funds replacement, and means average quality continues to rise.
‘A bit boring, but I was a convert to Burgundy very early and that has remained my favourite both for red and white; perhaps because my father served bad claret and my mother liked Yugoslav Riesling. That said, there are so many great wines now it would be foolish not to try new ones: German Pinots, Tasmanian, Chardonnay from New Zealand, authentic Chianti and the best Supertuscans, champagne (but only good vintages, never less than 10 years old). Sweet wine is not appreciated properly. It makes up circa 20% in my cellar and comes from many different places with a special vote for the Loire, and of course Madeira. Vin Santo is also underrated.
‘My quality index of wine consumption dropped off a cliff after Cambridge. It then began a steady climb along with income so I could buy the best by the late 1980s, but price rises, especially post 2009, have been so extreme for some names that I find it impossible to enjoy drinking them. I stopped buying DRC a while ago, also Coche-Dury and Armand Rousseau. Wonderful wines, but they do not taste so good when a case costs the same as a car and people are buying for prestige not pleasure. Many wonderful wines are still around at more sensible prices.
‘I will continue to buy but less as some wines will not be at their peak until past my last drink! Great to share the best stuff with friends. Happy to leave some to deserving godchildren, if any.’
London lawyer François Feuillat, on the other hand, is adamant: ‘I certainly don’t want to leave wine to my heirs – I fully intend to die just after I finish my last bottle!’
He recognises that ideal consumption of fine wine is ‘a big topic, and part of the narrative that attempts to explain the dire state of the fine-wine market – a generation of well-off collectors who have too much wine and are buying less, and no one to replace them.
‘I always bought wines to drink, so my cellar is full of lovely wines that are not investment-grade so are hard to sell, especially in the current market. Some of my wine is stored in bond and, even with space at home, I am keeping it in bond with a view to selling it once the market recovers. Getting that wine delivered would mean paying a big duty and VAT bill – not something you want to do for wine you won’t be drinking.
‘Collectors have a drive to buy more, and I’m no exception, but I buy a lot less wine than I used to. This is made easier as many merchants now sell sought-after wines by the bottle, or in three-bottle cases, whereas you used to have to buy six or twelve bottles of the same wine. Also Bordeaux producers have made it easier for me not to buy in recent vintages by their ludicrously high en primeur pricing.
‘Wine lovers are a generous bunch, and one of the pleasures of having more than you can drink is sharing it with friends.
‘Restaurants often don’t have many mature wines but offer corkage. I take advantage of that to bring my own bottles for both business meals and evenings with friends. I wouldn’t be prepared to pay restaurant wine-list prices for the wines I bring, even if they were available, which they rarely are.
‘Nick’s recent piece deals with dinners organised by restaurants, but a variation on that theme is dinners organised by collectors to enjoy their wines with like-minded friends. Some collectors do this to show off to an appreciative audience, but I find that my collector friends are not wine snobs and organise these because they love to learn about, and enjoy, their wines with other wine nuts.’
Ex Financial Times columnist and son of a wine merchant Harry Eyres gave up buying en primeur ‘ages ago. Recently I bought a case of Château Potensac 2012 – perfectly mature and delicious – for about £22 a bottle from Farr and that seemed much better and more economical than paying for storage for 10 years plus.
‘I’m possibly slightly overstocked in the areas of vintage port and sweeter German wines, mainly because there are so few who seem to share my love of these. However, I’m not contemplating any sell-offs.’
A classical scholar, he points out that too much wine ‘is not a new problem. Horace (of Eheu fugaces fame) warned his friend Postumus that his prized vintages would end up staining the floor at orgies conducted by his “worthier heir”.’
Talking of heirs, an enthusiastic French wine collector, blessed with allocations from some highly sought-after producers and London-based children, reports, ‘I am well aware, turning 80, that I will not drink all the wine in the cellar, but I am lucky enough to have great interest from the next generation. The problem of overbuying is more with our children, who have adopted an efficient and generous solution: when they have the feeling they still hold too many bottles of wines which could soon decline, they offer them to their friends (other wine amateurs) at the same price they originally paid for it. You may call me a lucky father!’
A wine-loving Parisian, with his own business, reports, ‘The problem is that I go to so many tastings (French or not) training my palate (I’ve always considered it like a sport and have to train constantly to keep a good level), trying to scout the new great winemakers, that I often buy 6–12 bottles from them just to retaste. It is a kind of compulsive thing. It is impossible for me to stop purchasing art or wine. Probably an addiction.
‘I ended up recently counting the contents of my cellar and the result is more than 8,000 bottles. At almost 78 I do not think we’ll be able to drink them all. I bring many bottles every week to work to share them with customer-friends. I will certainly leave some to my cousins, niece and nephew.
‘I have two cellars which are totally full in my building and also have recently arrived cases in the apartment entrance. The smart thing would be to sell at auction, for there would be a catalogue to remind me of some of the beauties owned and consumed.
‘My advice to new collectors is never to buy more than you actually need, and never succumb to any kind of collection-addiction.’
Napa-based early tech investor Joe Schoendorf of Accel, an enthusiastic customer of the late Bill Baker of Reid Wines, is forced to admit, ‘My wife and I own more wine than we will ever drink. There, I have said it. I purchased my first bottle of wine legally when I moved to Silicon Valley in the mid ’60s and really haven’t stopped buying. In our defence we both enjoy wine very much and seldom the day goes by without at least a glass or two being poured, and as Robert Mondavi so famously said as he approached 90 and was asked to what he attributed reaching such an age. “All things in moderation, with a few glorious exceptions.” I salute that.
‘As our collection continued to grow, my wife began to question where it all might end. At first, I had an easy answer. Our youngest daughter was born in 1982 so [the idea of] stocking up on that wonderful vintage was reasonably easy to sell. Our second daughter was born in 1987, a tougher year, but Napa made some great wines, as did Spain.
‘So what to do? As I enter my ninth decade on this planet, the strategy is fairly simple. Drink your great wines while you can. What to do with the rest after our daughters’ cellars are stocked is the question. I have been toying with what many, especially my bride, will consider an outlandish idea. Start a restaurant. My model here is Park B Smith and his forever-loved Veritas in New York just across the street from Gramercy Tavern. While my cellar is minor league compared to his fabled one, it is still good enough to support a very good establishment. I am seriously talking to a few local chefs in Napa Valley where we now live. There is no shortage of wonderful chefs here … Stay tuned.’
It’s true that a number of collectors sell selected surplus mature bottles to restaurants. Their wine lists only benefit as a result.
I did manage to find one woman with an overstocked cellar. Kate Dugdale, widow of David Dugdale of OW Loeb and a great music lover, has inherited his extremely handsome cellar, as witness the two Yquemfests reported on here. She observes, ‘The perennial problem – what to do with over-indulgent buying …
‘However – I think I’ve finally cracked it. Slightly worrying as all the wines are getting older but I now have so many musicians staying, especially ones that have been before and appreciate older wines, that I really don’t have a problem. I do have port of course and Madeira but they will last, and a small quantity of older bordeaux that I think I’ll ask Boobbyer to sort out, but I’m happy and relieved that it’s sorted and I can enjoy seeing another generation enjoying the wines. I now have the problem of buying young wines suitable for functions – I’m always being asked to donate wines for Festivals!
‘The dynamics of buying and drinking wine have changed as young enthusiasts find the prices more and more challenging.’
At a recent meeting of fine-wine traders convened in London by Liv-ex, it was gloomily agreed by all that the old days in which we boomers would happily and reflexively buy wine by the case every year are long gone. A younger generation, able to take advantage of an ever-widening range of exciting wines, is much more likely to buy on a just-in-time basis, and by the single bottle. The fine-wine trade truly is in flux, and has much to thank collectors like these for.
Back to basics
How is wine collecting changing? |
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Red bordeaux, made in vast quantity and needing many years to show at its best, shedding chewy tannins on the way, has been by far the most popular wine with collectors. The fact that it is relatively easy to understand, with a clear classification system (albeit dating from 1855), has meant that there has been a usefully effective secondary market for it. Collectors, almost overwhelmingly male, used to be able to buy red bordeaux en primeur, when it was first offered at a few months old, and usually by the dozen bottles, safe in the knowledge that it would appreciate in value and that it could always be sold if surplus to requirements.
But all this has changed. As I outlined in my recent report on the 2022s, many a wine has fallen rather than gained in value since first release, and en primeur prices have been higher in many cases than the price of older vintages of the same wine.
Meanwhile the price of burgundy, made in much smaller quantities, has soared so that only billionaires can afford the well-known names.
Small wonder then that buying young classic wine by the case is on the wane. It’s not a young people’s sport, especially now that the classics no longer dominate the wine scene. There are now just so many styles, wine regions and grape varieties to choose from, who wants to tie up capital in a slow-maturing Cabernet/Merlot blend and pay storage charges every year?
A further factor is the decline in slavish following of scores. Younger consumers, if they drink wine at all, are more likely to (a) evolve their own preferences, enjoying the process of discovery and (b) be female. |
Photo credit Sirbouman via Shutterstock.