January is always a harsh kick in the nuts–the inevitable crash from the giant sugar rush that is Christmas. I could be politically correct and throw in Channukah, but lets face it–it’s Santa that brings home all the retail bacon. (ooh, I swear that’s no pun intended.)

This week brings the dreaded end of year inventory, which is like cleaning up from a party you spent a wad on and finding tons of shit that didn’t get ate, drank, or bought. It’s a giant dose of regret:

Goddamnit, we still have Beaujolais Nouveau.
I’m not buying hardly any of this crap next year
(same thing I said last year).
Why didn’t we order enough pannetone? Or did we?
How could we be out of Brunello? But we still have tons of Gaja, and Pride, and …
can’t look at Captain’s list, I’ll have a heart attack.
I bought a mountain of Cava and Prosecco; we have to have more.
Don’t understand why everyone wants Washington wine.
Beer cooler dessimated, but still plenty of bottles with Santa and reindeers and shit on them.

I was mostly happy with 2004; people are feeling more comfortable every year about buying new wines. Customers are starting to request things like Viognier, Nero d’Avola, anything but Merlot (the one good thing about Sideways), and Chardonnay that’s not too oaky. Our clientele is as adventurous as ever, which means I can play.

I think we retailers should live up to their customers, not let them down. Have the courage to say no more Speculator for me and stop parroting scores or double checking your instincts with Jabba the Critic. You see what your customers are wanting, what they like, what they’ll buy. Give yourself some f-ing credit, go out on a limb, quit feeding the marketing machine.

Times are hard. Wine prices are ridiculous. So pledge your time and attention to the artisan producers this year more than ever. I’m redoubling my effort to 86 as many brands as possible from our shop. Screw Silver Oak (aka Silver Joke) and Caymus (you don’t want to know what we call it). They suck. (Try tasting them after Hiedi Barrett’s Paradigm Cabernet at less than half the price and you’ll see what I mean. Yeah, that’s Heidi Barrett of Screaming Eagle fame for all you label/score whores.) Kendall Jackson Chardonnay is banned from my sight. Beringer can take a hike. You want that stuff, be a good consumer, go to Wal-mart, and buy your Turning Leaf.

I think 2005 should be the year of the little guy. Smaller, kick ass importers that carry limited production artisan products like:

Terry Thiese - Germany, Champagne, anything he says
Becky Wasserman - Guru of all Burgundy & Champagne
Neil Rosenthal - One of the best pallettes in the biz, truly
Domaine Select - Italian gems that induce swooning
Epicurean - Auzzie wines so good, they’re indecent
"RM" Champagnes - That means he who grew it, made it
Matthew Fioretti - Italian wines, old school & gorgeous
Weygandt/Metzler - French, especially Rhone and south

That’s it. That’s my biggest secret. I buy by the label too, only different. The big corporate importers/distributors make the cart drive the horse. They bombard you with product placement, commercials, marketing–the same branding concepts used for cereal, motor oil, and shoes. Wine to me doesn’t fit into the McDonaldization of our culture.

These guys I mention above, their reputation depends on the quality of their portfolio. Wine is like fashion, it’s all about personal taste and aesthetic. And I prefer to buy it from craftsmen with impeccable taste, not the businessmen who know nothing about wine without a number 1 to 100 attached to it and would just as soon be selling carpet, cars, or insurance. Wine is made on someone’s land, brough to life under their watch. I have no interest in the shite manufactured in liquid sweatshops. Don’t care about full page adds in magazines. No Amway-like sales structure where your local rep reports to an area rep reports to a regional rep reports to a regional manager. Sometimes I wonder how shitty a wine must be to require so many people to shove it down my throat.

So that’s my challenge to everyone this year. Know what you’re paying for, know who you’re getting it from, and think about how it was made. Because I, for one, deserve nothing but the best, and so do my friends, and so do my customers, and so do you. Some of you I expect, anyway.