People who run wine competitions around the U.S. must wish they never heard the name Robert Hodgson.

Hodgson, a winery owner and retired professor from Cal State University (Humboldt), recently embarked on a new career: statistically debunking the reliability of wine competition medal awards.

Earlier this year, he published a study in the scholarly Journal of Wine Economics (who knew?). He concluded something that many winemakers and critics have long suspected: which medals wines get at competitions depends at least as much on who does the judging as on the wine itself.

Over four years, Hodgson tested 65 panels of judges at the California State Fair Wine Competition by slipping three samples from the same bottle into large judging flights.

The results? Fewer than half of the panels consistently gave the same wines the same medal. In one extreme case, a panel rejected two samples of a wine and awarded the third a double gold.

Individual judges performed far worse than the groups. Just 10% of them consistently voted the same medal to the same wine.

Last week, Hodgson stomped his other foot. In a new article that's lighting up online discussion groups nationwide, he examined over 4000 wines entered in 13 major wine competitions. His devastating indictment:

The probability of winning a Gold medal at one competition is stochastically independent of the probability of receiving a Gold at another competition, indicating that winning a Gold medal is greatly influenced by chance alone.

Among 2440 wines entered in more than three competitions, 47% (1142) took at least one gold medal. For those, like me, who frequently question the medal madness, that number alone calls the entire process into question.

Wherever Hodgson looked, he found inconsistencies. Among them:

• 84% of the 1142 gold medalists received no medal at all in at least one other competition. In other words, one panel's top wine was rated sub-par by another.
• Not one wine that entered four or more competitions received gold medals at all of them
• Of 375 wines that entered five competitions, 132 (35%) won a gold medal somewhere along the way. But just six took gold at three competitions, and none at four or more. And 98% of those gold medalists also got a bronze medal or no medal at all in at least one other competition.
• The median correlation between results at any two of the 13 competitions: 0.10. The high correlation: just 0.33.

Hodgson drew three conclusions:

1. There is almost no consensus among the 13 wine competitions regarding wine quality.
2. For wines receiving a Gold medal in one or more competitions, it is very likely that the same wine received no award at another.
3. The likelihood of receiving a Gold medal can be statistically explained by chance alone.

Blogger Joe Roberts (1 Wine Dude) has since lobbed a few grenades in Hodgson's direction, calling his statistical analysis "pseudo-science" and "bordering on being totally irresponsible".

One major issue: lumping together 13 competitions may illuminate inconsistencies among them, but obscures whether those inconsistencies exist simply because the study compares some competitions that do a great job picking top wines with others that don't.

Meanwhile, other wine writers like Alder Yarrow at Vinography are saying "I've always told you so" when it comes to wine competitions.

Around here, the advice has always been: Drink what you enjoy, or get advice from folks whose palates you trust. Always keep in mind that most competitions exist for wineries to use as marketing tools, not for consumers to trust as buying guides.

 

You don't often see the word "epiphany" in a blog post.

But last Saturday, for the second time in two weeks, I watched group attitudes toward Michigan wine evolve just as notably, if less publicly, than at Harding's Cab Franc Challenge.

Let's set the stage. Every summer, a couple of wine-loving friends throw a tasting bash they call their "Wine Cellar Reduction Party". OK, the name's hokey. But during a tightly-scripted evening that can last longer than a Rich Rodriguez football practice, our generous host-cum-impresario trots out flight after superb flight for his oenophiliac guests.

A printed wine list guides us through the evening's excess. Some bottles are "interesting", recently procured, while cellar gems can have 20 years or more on them. During the evening we invariably play a raucous round of "guess what's in the brown paper bags".

In other words, this is a tough, wine geeky crowd that wouldn't have taken Michigan wine seriously even a few years ago.

Hence the epiphany when our hosts put out last Saturday's tasting list. Along with usual suspects like Kistler Chardonnay, 1990 Pichon-Baron and 1970 Taylor Port appeared three flights of Michigan wines: one rosé, one Pinot Noir, the third mostly Cabernet Franc. (Click the thumbnail to see the list in a readable-sized window). 

It would be nice to report that 2007 Brys and 2 Lads Cab Franc blew away the 1986 Cheval Blanc.

Nice, but inaccurate. It wasn't even close.

But it was fascinating to observe a group of serious wine lovers taste and discuss flights of serious Michigan wines that most had never tried.

Consternation prevailed over the rosés. This crowd primarily prefers its pinks bone dry, and many (but not all) of Michigan's showed significant sweetness. The two French in the flight appeared closer in style, if not quality, to group norms.

One infallible indicator -- which bottle empties first? -- pointed to Forty-five North Pinot Noir and 2 Lads Cab Franc rosés as the favorites. The former bottle disappeared into the house, never to return; the latter's unusual style caused its level to drop precipitously even as it elicited multiple comments, not 100% flattering, about its dark color.

Then, as if on cue, Wyncroft owner / winemaker Jim Lester showed up in perfect time to crash the Pinot Noir flight with -- surprise! -- his just-bottled 2007.

That wine -- dark and dense, but surprisingly elegant -- set the crowd abuzz. Debate ensued over whether it was more Oregonian or Burgundian, which Lester silenced by pronouncing it Michiganian. Another favorite, more fruit-driven, came from Shady Lane -- the only other 2007 in the flight.

Finally, a mixed flight of Cab Franc and other Bordeaux grapes, with two Lester add-ins: Fenn Valley's 2007 Meritage and his own 2002 Shou Bordeaux blend, from magnum.

Several bottles drew positive notice, starting with Fenn Valley's -- along with some regrets over artifacts from its American oak aging. Bowers Harbor's 2005 displayed the softening benefit of extra bottle time, while 2 Lads and Brys wowed with their usual medal-winning panache. Wyncroft again stood out from the crowd, showing both its age and Bordeaux-like qualities to advantage.

No, things didn't go downhill the rest of the evening (except for a Chilean Syrah...). Almost every top Bordeaux drank magnificently, offering silent feedback as to where, despite Michigan's vast strides, our wines stand in the world pecking order.

But that's not the point. The evening's clear take-away: a group of serious tasters found they could seriously enjoy a group of Michigan's better wines. And that development is unlikely to reduce any of our cellars in the years to come.

A faint whiff of sour grapes permeated the air after the Michigan Cab Franc Challenge awards ceremony last Thursday.

Unsurprisingly, it seemed to originate near the tables where the southern winemakers were gathered. Their wares had been roundly trounced for bragging rights by their up-north colleagues, both at the Challenge and two weeks earlier, at the Michigan Wine Competition.

"Sure, they can do that in an unusual vintage like 2007," sniffed one southerner about Old Mission's winning Cabernets. "But let's see what kind of wine they make from 2008." 

"They're not varietally correct," said another. "And certainly not Michigan-style."

Across the room, Terry Stingley of Harding's Markets, whose fertile brain conceived the Challenge and Harding's Cup trophy, was spinning his theory of how Brys Estate and 2 Lads, separated by just a few peninsular miles, swept the three top awards against all comers from around the state.

(That sweep was even more lopsided than most bystanders realized; 2 Lads' regular-release Cab Franc nabbed the Challenge's unannounced fourth place.)

"Terroir," said Stingley, not one to shy from the grand pronouncement. "This is the start of the concept of terroir in the state of Michigan."

Of course the unusual 2007 vintage and Old Mission's terroir played their role. But so did a less-noticed factor: both Coenraad Stassen of Brys and Cornel Olivier of 2 Lads trained as winemakers at South African universities -- Stassen at Elsenburg, Olivier at Stellenbosch -- before they took internships at Old Mission wineries and decided to remain.

As Challenge judge and Master Sommelier Claudia Tyagi sagely noted, "It speaks to the wisdom of Chateau Grand Traverse and Chateau Chantal that they were involved in the work/study programs that brought Cornel and Coenraad here."

Family ties to South African wine make me a less-than-objective observer. But visits to Cape wine country regularly demonstrate the engineer-like rigor with which South African wimemakers learn to approach their craft, especially their near-obsession with sanitation.

Winemaking legend André van Rensburg of top-drawer Vergelegen -- much-admired by Olivier -- requires employees to shower and don clean scrubs before they can enter the winery. You'd think he was prepping for an operation, not a fermentation.

The backrooms at both Brys and 2 Lads reflect a similar obsession, albeit slightly more moderate. As Olivier once told me, "I spend half my time as a janitor."

By virtue of their formal training and South African experience, both winemakers came prepared for Michigan to hand them an atypically long, warm growing season like 2007.  The wines they made that year may not be "Michigan-style" -- but that's because the vintage wasn't, either.

But not every Michigan winemaker brings their broader perspective to the table.

"Every harvest is different, one from another, here in Michigan, unlike South Africa where the growing season is pretty much the same each year," Stassen told MichWine for a 2007 article, right around harvest-time for the trophy-winning Brys Artisan Cab Franc.

"As a result, in South Africa you can make a half decent wine without that much effort. Here, if you are sharp, it drives you to learn more and provides a challenge. Your winemaking style is much more influenced by whether you had a cool or warm growing season."

"I got my backbone in South Africa and I love a challenge."

Last week's results are a little bit about the vintage, and a little bit about the terroir. 

But they're a whole lot about the guys who make the wine.

_____________________________

A hat tip to Terry Stingley and Tim Harding for letting media folks sit in on the Challenge judging, start to finish. Both Dianna Stampfler of Promote Michigan and Shannon Casey of Michigan by the Bottle joined me to blog, tweet and photograph the goings-on from what we dubbed the "media table".

Admittedly, major time blocks at wine judgings are deadly dull to non-combatants, even those with a wine geek mindset. But the organization and judges' professionalism impressed those of us with observer status. Except for one corked bottle that might have been detected before pouring, the process went off without a glitch.

Please refresh periodically for updates. Pictures: Bottles ready to taste. Patrick Fegan of Chicago Wine School.  Importer Jean-Jacques Fertal.

5:35 PM Live from Kalamazoo's Park Club. All six judges are here -- 22 Cab Francs ready to taste!

5:42 PM Judges just told that a total of just 85 acres of Cab Franc are planted in the state. They think the first CF grapes were not planted until 1990 or 1991.

5:45 PM First flight going in front of the judges -- six wines

5:57 PM Judges tabulating the scores on the first flight of wines. They will pick the top two wines from each flight to go into the final round -- a third if judging is close.

6:02 PM No questions or serious debate in this flight; Wines 1 and 3 clear winners. Both will both go into final round. First flight glasses being removed.

6:16 PM Now onto second flight -- 5 wines. Organizer Terry Stingley says that each of the wines being tasted tonight is 100% Cab Franc, no blending. Why am I dubious?

6:25 PM  Scoring separately with no discussion, five of six judges picked the same wine in this flight as the best. That's pretty impressive. Second place wine also a clear winner. The judges are real pros, and things are going very smoothly.

6:29 PM Flight three now being served; six wines. Dianna Stampfler from Promote Michigan just sat down next to me at the media table and is trying to get online.

6:33 PM Just replaced one corked wine with a fresh bottle.

6:43 PM Judges' scoring all over the lot on this flight, and no one is all that fond of any of them except the first-place finisher. Sent the second-place wine into the finals with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

 6:50 PM Final preliminary flight being served; five wines. Swirl, sniff, sip, spit. Repeat.

7:02 PM Now scoring final preliminary flight. Some slight confusion getting scores recorded. Again, a clear first place and not much enthusiasm for any other.

7:08 PM Short break in the action while the final flight gets poured. Eight wines, the top two from each of the four preliminary flights. Been joined at the media table by Shannon Casey who's tweeting @michbythebottle.

7:10 PM Debate breaks out on whether to judge final flight on current drinkability or ultimate quality. They decide for current. I disagree -- but I'm not judging today. That's a serious issue here, because so many of the wines from this vintage are really tannic and backward.

7:15 PM YUM! Media table just got perfectly broiled baby lamb chops from the Park Club. Too bad the judges can't try them yet -- would ruin their palates! They're now tasting the eight finalists.

7:35 PM Indecision strikes!! Panel narrows eight finalists down to five wines; can't go any further. Will retaste all five. Short delay.

7:40 PM Discussion with a couple of the judges over methoxypyrozene (SP! -- green bell pepper flavors) in Cabernet Franc. Others find is much less objectionable than I do. To me, it's defiicient grape-growing -- failure to get them fully ripe. Several judges say it's a natural component, to be expected in the grape.

7:55 PM Now ranking final five wines.

8:05 PM WINNERS  -- not yet announced here! #3 -- Brys Estate; #2 -- 2 Lads Reserve; #1 Brys Estate Artisan Series

Wearing another hat, wine columnist for the Ann Arbor Chronicle, I've been collecting wine lists from Treetown restaurants.

Scanning these lists for Michigan wines is generally an exercise in serial masochism. With a few wine-country exceptions -- like Traverse City's Trattoria Stella and St. Joseph's Bistro on the Boulevard under lamentably-departed sommelier Marcie Barker --  the results are usually predictable and dispiriting.

Perhaps a half-dozen Michigan bottles appear on a hundred-wine list. Perhaps fewer. They'll include a requisite bubbly or two from Larry Mawby and a couple of Rieslings from widely-distributed producers like Chateau Grand Traverse or Black Star Farms.  A lone Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir or some sort of sweeter, late harvest white typically round out the offerings.

But I expected more from the wine list at just-opened Grange Kitchen and Bar. Not only is chef / owner Brandon Johns a locavore foodie hero whose restaurant name honors the Grange movement, but its website promises "Locally Sourced, Farm to Table Dining".

Sure enough, its hundred-wine list doesn't offer a mere half-dozen Michigan wines.

There are eight, thanks to the inclusion of four Mawby bubblies.

Amazingly, this "locally sourced" restaurant offers just one red wine from Michigan's outstanding 2007 vintage -- Brys Estate's Pinot Noir. No Cab Franc or Bordeaux blends make the grade, despite their record showing at the recent Michigan Wine Competition. Not a single bottle from the Pioneer Wine Trail, less than an hour's drive from the restaurant.

Disappointing as that is, today isn't Beat Up Brandon Johns Day. Because his list typifies something I've often noticed: many Michigan locavores have a blind spot when it comes to locally-produced wine.

I can't say why this is. It doesn't work that way elsewhere. From Sancerre to Sonoma, restaurant lists overflow with the region's wines.

But Michigan locavores, who regularly celebrate community farmers and wouldn't be caught dead dissing Bell's of Kalamazoo or the hometown micro-brew, ignore a jeroboam-full of reasons to become locapours:

• Like other farmers beloved by locavores, Michigan grape growers and wineries are almost exclusively small, family-run businesses
• Wine grapes sustain agriculture and forestall development in places where other crops (like cherries and Concord grapes) no longer provide their former income.
• Vineyards and wineries practice sustainable agriculture. Grapes can yield crops on the same land every year for centuries. Winery pomace can recycle as fertilizer or animal feed.
• Michigan-made wines impose a far lower environmental footprint than bottles trucked from California or shipped from Australia.
• Wine transcends commodity status to become one of Michigan's fastest-growing value-added agricultural products.
• Wine brings millions of tourist dollars to our state, and supports many ancillary businesses. 

And perhaps most important for those of us who love to eat and drink:

• Today's top Michigan wines can hold up their heads in any company, anywhere. Those who eat -- or serve -- local foods have no reason to avoid pairing them with local wines, on dinner tables or wine lists

True, we don't make wine from Malbec or Zinfandel, two fixtures on most restaurant wine lists these days, including Grange's.

Then again, we also don't raise Kobi beef or pull Chilean sea bass from our lakes -- and locavores survive nicely without putting such non-local species on their dinner plates or restaurant menus.

"Locally Sourced, Farm to Table"?

Unless, it often seems, the farm happens to grow wine grapes.

There's been lots of blowback since the Michigan Wine Competition judges, on a close vote, decided last week not to award a trophy for Best Sparkling Wine -- for the second year running.

A Twitter comment by a winery employee pretty much typifies the industry reaction: "I still have issues with the Michigan wine Comp not awarding a best of class sparkling wine for the SECOND YEAR IN A ROW. Explain someone?"

Respected California writer and wine-world Renaissance man Dan Berger dissented loudly and publicly after the judges refused to vote the trophy to the class's lone gold medal winner, 2007 Be Dazzled, from Black Star Farms.

Two days later, Berger remained over-the-top apoplectic. "To not vote for this wine to get a sweepstakes award is a cowardly act," he fumed in his subscription newsletter, Vintage Experiences.

OK, then, I'm a coward. I voted "No". Here's why.

In the Michigan Competition, every gold or double gold medal winner is eligible for its Best of Class trophy. [See comment below for an exception.] When that's four or fewer wines, a new rule this year has judges first vote on whether to award a trophy at all. 

We had just one gold medalist in the Best Sparkling class: Be Dazzled. (There's an interesting irony that I'll get to it in a moment.) We voted -- very closely -- to award no trophy.

Dan Berger calls Be Dazzled "a brilliant example of precise winemaking... it will age." But Black Star Farms' own website says it's "a fun sparkler with fresh, crisp fruit flavors and an off dry finish," and advises us to "enjoy this wine now."

That's much closer to the mark. Be Dazzled is fruity, delicious and well-made. It's also light and simple -- what you'd expect from a $12.50 bottle of bubbly. I'd pour it for friends in a New York second with some cheese and fruit to kick off a casual summer supper.

It's clearly a very good wine -- arguably in gold medal turf -- but well short of "brilliant". And not trophy-worthy.

Now here's the irony. We came within a hairsbreadth of sending a second sparkler into the trophy round. The most divisive wine our four-judge table tasted all day was a semi-dry bubbly that some of us found complex and highly gold-worthy, others thought to be over-the-top with yeast and oak. After a lengthy discussion, we gave it a silver medal. 

Had it made the trophy round, it would have provided a stark contrast with Be Dazzled. I kinda wish we'd had the chance to taste them side-by-side, even though I think it typifies something else that Berger fulminated against: " the 'complexity' ... in a few other Michigan sparklers was related to what I call 'artificial yeastiness' that is a common trait in some wines that are occasionally praised, but which can turn strange with any bottle age."

My guess? He would have hated this one.

Berger rightly points out that every trophy contains a "Send 'em a message" agenda: This winemaker did a great job. Other winemakers should find it a wine worth emulating.

But to the consuming public, there's a third message implicit in a trophy: This wine represents the finest of its type that Michigan is currently able to produce.

In the past, I've tasted several top-tier Michigan sparklers -- from producers like L. Mawby, Black Star Farms, Shady Lane and Tabor Hill.

This year, I didn't taste anything that good. So I voted "No".