I know a husband and wife who get up at six every morning to take walks around the neighbourhood together. Another couple I know spends hours together in their garden. My wife and I like to look for bargains on wine lists. In fact, few things make us happier than finding a wine that's under priced and overlooked. It may not be as poetic as a shared predawn walk (my wife's idea of hell) or as elemental as tilling the earth but our stingy hobby has made us sought-after dining companions in certain circles. Or, as one friend remarked, "I would never order a wine this cheap without you."
Mind you, this same friend isn't ashamed to look for bargains anyplace else. She shops every sale at Isetan's. She doesn't even mind asking a wine merchant to recommend "something good under RM40 a bottle." So why does she shrink when confronted with a sommelier?
My friend, like many people, assumes that if she orders a cheap wine, she'll be treated badly. (I can think of several French restaurants where this would be true.) What she doesn't realize is that expensive wines can make someone look stupid too. For example, I know a man so determined to be thought a sophisticate he only orders wines labeled "reserve." While he may be a marketer's dream--"reserve" can mean something or nothing, but it always, always, raises the price--this policy has meant he's missed out on some pretty great stuff. After all, some of the world's best wines don't feature the word "reserve." Château Latour Reserve, anyone?
That's the problem with locating bargains on wine lists: It requires knowing something about wine. It's not like reading a menu, where anyone who's been down a supermarket aisle knows how much pasta or chicken costs. The menu, by the way, can be a good indicator as to whether or not you'll find many buys on the wine list. If roast chicken runs north of RM35, the odds are against your finding a good wine under a hundred Ringgit.
Although my sommelier-shy friend is an intelligent woman, she doesn't want to learn about wine. Like many people, she thinks it's too hard. And so she orders the same wines over and over--Chardonnay, Cabernet and Shiraz--often paying a premium for her obstinacy. If only she'd do a little studying, I tell her, she could easily go bargain hunting on her own.
Get to know obscure grapes
I'd suggest, for starters, that she familiarize herself with unfashionable wines like Soave and Beaujolais, and learn the names of unpopular grapes like Malbec and Gewürztraminer. A rule of thumb: The more difficult a grape is to pronounce, the cheaper the wine is likely to be.
Instead of red Burgundy, I'd recommend ordering Moulin-à-Vent. Made from Gamay, not Pinot Noir, this wine is the biggest of the Beaujolais crus, and can be, in many instances, richer and fuller-bodied than many Burgundies. In Italy, alternatives to overpriced Barolos and Barbarescos abound, including other Piedmontese reds like Dolcetto and Barbera. Both were once considered lowly, second-rate grapes but, thanks to some of today's top producers, are now accorded the same care and attention as more "noble" varietals. The wines they turn out are lush and concentrated--and unlike Barolo and Barbaresco, are (mostly) ready to drink right after release.
I could go on and on with my list of alternatives. Such as bypassing California Merlot in favor of Australian Grenache--a grape that's got all the plush, sexy fruit Merlot is said to have but so rarely does. Chardonnay drinkers should switch to barrique-aged Soaves. Leading Soave winemakers are working hard to combat their region's reputation for mediocrity, and the prices they charge for their rich, complex wines will seem like a steal to oak-obsessed Chard fans.
Memorize a few good vintage years
I would also insist that my friend learn about vintages. Anyone who mastered multiplication tables in primary school can and should memorize a few years. For example, it's useful for Tuscan-wine drinkers to know that 1997 was a great year for Sangiovese, while 1998 was outstanding in St-Émilion. After all, unlike primary school, there's pleasure to be had in knowing the right numbers. (Primary school dropouts can always consult vintage charts.)
A wine from a good vintage isn't necessarily going to be much more expensive than a wine from a bad one (unless the vintage is really, really bad--but I'll get to that later). In fact, Bordeaux has famously jacked up the prices of its en primeur wines (those purchased as "futures") regardless of whether the vintage is good or bad. However, wines like Bordeaux, Chianti and Burgundy tend to be high in acidity and/or tannins and can be particularly disappointing in off years. The faults are magnified in a bad year, since these wines rarely have enough fruit to cloak the tannins or cover the acidity.
Look for a good producer in a really bad year
that said, a great producer can make excellent wine even in a truly bad year. And sometimes, if the year is exceptionally awful, the wine may be a bargain. My wife and I once had a Chateau Leoville Barton in a fancy restaurant. It wasn't an easy place to go bargain hunting; in fact. Now, this bottle was from the 1993 vintage. You'd have to work pretty hard to find a year worse than 1993; in fact, wine critic Robert M. Parker, Jr., called the vintage "appalling" and gave it a score of 58. As it turned out, the wine wasn't bad; in fact, it was interesting. It may have lacked fruit, but it did have lovely mineral notes and a surprisingly long finish.
Get to know bargain-minded sommeliers and proprietors
I've actually found quite a few sommeliers and proprietors, interested in bargain wines. You just have to keep a look out for them. Petaling Jaya, seem to be particular stronghold.
Kuala Lumpur, is more of a challenge. Maybe it's because of the KLites themselves, who either dine on expense accounts or are so accustomed to spending a lot of money on everything that they're suspicious of wines that look like a good deal.
Maybe it's that they don't bargain hunt for their wines locally. Perhaps, like a friend of mine, they travel to Singapore. When I called to ask him about his bargain-hunting experiences, he began raving about a lunch he'd had late last year. He and six friends (all men) had flown down to have lunch at. They'd paid S$650 apiece for 6 courses and 14 bottles of wine. "A steal," he said. I was dubious. A high-three-figure lunch didn't sound like a steal to me. "I'll email you a list of the wines," he replied.
The list was, in a word, staggering; it featured some of the most famous French winemaking names in the world.
I called him to concede the bargain-hunting championship. Yet, I wondered, was it really fair to compare a great Grenache for RM50 to grand cru Burgundy for a few hundred dollars? Hadn't he ever ordered a really good wine that was truly cheap? "All the time," he answered. "Whenever I eat out with my wife's family."
