Friday, February 26, 2010
Shill in the Making?
Analytics suggest that my "unique pageviews" are down. My number of Twitter "followers" has flattened. Facebook "fan page" uh, "fans", are stagnant. Alexa.com shows that my site is not as popular as other regional wine blogs. Comment quantity on posts is not where it was last week. AdSense revenues are...well, were they ever good?Big deal, right? We all got into wine blogging for fun. For the thrill of sharing our unique perspectives on a subject as infinitely subjective as wine, correct?
No! Well, yes, but I'm an insecure middle child constantly seeking attention and approval (see how I slyly shifted blame over to my parents and their family-building techniques? Slide me some skin, psychology). Basically, there's no good reason for me to stress about this stuff. I got into this for the love of writing, and the love of food and wine. But, as soon as I see anything drop off (usually the normal ebbs-and-flows of website traffic), I get crazy-introspective, and- lately- the burning question to myself has been:
AM I BECOMING A SHILL?
Has [extremely] mild success as a wine blogger gone to my head? Did I go from once "doing this for the people, by the people" to "goon of the marketeers", thus alienating the honest-to-goodness, blue-collar, wine-drinking, blog-readin' public, resulting in my recent, neurosis-inducing drop/stagnation in meteoric growth? Perhaps. Let's take a look at the symptoms:
1) Hardworking blogger makes good. PR firms notice: Okay. Yeah, I've gotten a few samples lately. Every drop of wine I used to write about was sourced from my moth-ridden wallet. Suddenly, a couple intrepid importers and marketing folks want to "take a chance" on a heartwarming story of the wine drinker who became a blogger who became a certified specialist on the stuff. So, what began as a voice-of-the-people evolved into a voice-of-the-free-samples (at least in my own mind). Most readers don't get free wine samples. Losing touch with the regular Joe...
2) Slovenly blogger accepted as part of the "trade": I'm never gonna have the opportunity to taste 80+ Cru chateaux of Bordeaux. If the chance presents itself, I've got to snatch it, right? I mean, if the readers- of whom I am a mere contemporary- are to respect and idolize (tongue firmly planted in cheek) my views, then I need to have an opinion on everything they may taste. But am I pulling a shill move to write about the experience that they cannot share (without an extremely fat wallet)? I don't know. It reminds me of a recent conversation that I had with my pal Hardy Wallace, when he was said that we should just write and not worry about influence, because wine bloggers don't have much anyway. Thanks, Hardy. Which brings me to my next point, er, piece of incriminating evidence:
3) Name-Dropping: "So, I was hanging out with Gary Vaynerchuk.."
"Hey, yeah, Hardy and I were just palling around- as we often do, being Atlanta wine bloggers and all.."
Big-headed, ass-faced Hollywood-wannabe-types always name-drop. Sunuvabitch. Obviously trying to increase our credibility with the "famous", thus increasing our "marketability". Despicable.
I don't really know Hardy Wallace that well, and I don't want to pretend that we're best friends. He treats you like you've known him forever, and he's a tireless in support of Atlanta (and other) wine bloggers. But until we spend that weekend at a hunting cabin with a bottle of whiskey, it's a name-drop.
4) The ultimate low...Merch: See Facebook pandering below.
Pimping anything with my blog-namesake on it in the name of the almighty buck. I'm going to throw up from shame...
So, it's crossroads time. Have Joe Herrig and his [actually not very] popular "Suburban Wino" food/wine/leisure sports blog jumped the shark?
Maybe. But, I don't know for sure. Yes, the samples are cool. But I didn't get into it for the samples. And, I've been fortunate enough to be approached by folks with no pretense. Here are the wines. Give them a try. Write about them if you want. If you like them, great. If not, that's fine, too (obviously smart folks who realize that any publicity is good publicity...wondering why they came to me for "publicity"). This is a win-win situation. It allows the marketeer to get some pub, while not hamstringing the blogger into false-praise fed to a readership that has no loyalty beyond the writer's honesty. And, yes, perhaps it is "unrealistic" for the average folk to have access to all these wines, but at least a source is created from whence they can pick and choose. Similar situation when it comes to events, wine dinners, and trade shows. Plus, I still write about experiences out of my own pocket. And, in all cases, I think I'm giving an honest opinion. Forgive me; I'm just not very mean by nature.
As for the name dropping? Always a douchey move (sorry, that's the only adjective that I felt fit there), but we lowly grunts want to provide validity to what we're saying. Align that with someone the reader knows and trusts, and maybe it gives us one more day with that reader. Hopefully, any of my sparse name-drops are only used if they are/were credible.
Merchandise? Lowest of the low. Unless I'm giving it away. Then, I'm just creating another opportunity where human beings will- inexplicably- do anything for a t-shirt.
And if the designs are cool, then selling isn't so sleazy, huh? It's not like I'd be selling this:
Nobody wants to be a sell-out (well, most people). But, we're all vying for our little piece of cyberspace. I'd like to think I'm doing it the way I did it a year ago. For fun. And for the few appreciative readers who stop by. In the end, it's all about you. If I'm slinging a bunch of bullshit, you'll quit reading. Simple as that.
On that note of no bull and all honesty, I ate an oyster po-boy tonight....
...just seeing how many people read all the way through. Sláinte!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Countdown to Ground Round: 1 Week Down
I've looked on a lot of women with lust. I've committed adultery in my heart many times." -Jimmy Carter, during his 1976 Playboy Interview
Nose through any number of detox and rehabilitation websites out there (done for research purposes, kids), and you'll notice a trend: the first week is always the toughest. And in this week, I've looked on a lot of chicken with hunger-lust. I've committed meal-adultery in my stomach many times. But, have I fallen off the wagon?
Well, 'tis the week for apologies. I started off great. Ambitious. Determined. A two day trip to Mobile, AL (on the gulf coast and home to some of the tastiest seafaring critters around) concluded with a belly full of vegetables, breads, and hummus. One accidental taste of cheese, but I'm gonna chalk that up to a rusty palate for the vegan persuasion. I was on a roll. I'd resisted Neptune's sultry song, as nary an oyster (debatably, an animal) passed my determined lips.
And then...Saturday. I was invited by some old friends to their annual "CarnivoreFest"...twelve hours of grill jockeying. NO vegetables allowed. My contraband Smucker's Uncrustables were smuggled in with the care of Cuban cigars through U.S. Customs. Alas, drinks were poured. Wine was consumed. As plate after plate of baby back ribs, smoked spareribs, BBQ'ed pork loin, roast lamb, and bacon-wrapped smoked chicken crossed my alcohol-weakened gullet, animal instinct took over. By the time the slow-grilled pork belly hit the table, I was more animal than man.
So, beloved audience: like Tiger admitting his problems to his fans, or former President Clinton unsuccessfully wriggling out of questioning, [sigh]....[cracked voice]...
[Random Police Investigator interjects in the middle of this post]: "Son, I know this is tough, but can you please point out on this doll where the pork belly touched you?"
I point to the mouth. I ate some of the pork belly. As it went down, I felt as if God was rubbing my tummy. Mind you, it was only a taste, but it snowballed into a taste of the chicken, a taste of the ribs, a taste of the lamb. No, I didn't get it full-on with the CarnivoreFest, but I definitely went to second base. I felt I needed to admit this to you, the readers. If good blogging is about transparency and open communication, then I must come clean.
I spent the rest of the night in the shower, cowering and trying to scrub the filth of shame off my body.
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Okay. Pork demons exorcised, I can move on. Damn, this is tough. Especially since I've been traveling, and I haven't exactly been going to organic food meccas and forward-thinking food cities. However, I have learned that you can eat surprisingly poorly while "vegan". I had a whole basket of fried pickles for dinner the other night. Just fried batter (in vegetable oil) and salty pickled cucumbers. That can't be healthy. I've also learned that fast-food chains (the only options on I-65 between Montgomery, AL and Mobile, AL) are NOT very friendly to non-meat-eaters. A large fries and a wilted side salad is often the only option. Eat that many fries, and you do not feel like taking on the world.
However, I've also discovered the secrets to filling up. Hummus, guacamole, coconut milk, peanut butter, and other fatty, veggie-based goos are very satisfying. The experience has been enlightening towards my views on world hunger. Rice, potatoes, and pasta are very cheap, and they are the substantial base for many meals. We can feed a lot of folks with these economical staples.
That's it. Here I am, one week in, already humbled, humiliated, not-that-healthy, and thinking about how I can change the world. Perhaps vegetables are breaking me down before building me back up. Maybe they're developing character. Will they keep me 100% honest? Probably not (there's another meat-fest on the horizon). But, in those moments of weakness, the veggies are holding me- with their tendrils and leafy bits- accountable to you, and humility towards a disappointed audience, just maybe, is part of the growing pains...
...39 days to go. I apologize in advance for my transgressions.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Barato: Spanish for "barato".
Let's say you're a cheapskate with no money. Take, for example, me. Have I ever used dish soap as shampoo? Maybe that's why I have no hair anymore. But, when there, it did have the pleasing aroma of antibacterial orange. Okay, I'm kidding. But, like so many others who take pleasure in tucking into the "finer things" (wine, for example), circumstances haven't gotten any easier. There are tons of blawgers out there doing posts about "wines under $10/20", etc. Yeah, you can find great wine on a Natural Light budget. Sometimes, it requires a little extra snooping, and it never hurts to have expert sites out in cyberspace where you can gain insight into some of the regions that provide the most value. Which begs the question: what are you doing here?
Ah, self-effacing humor. It's become sort of a theme.
Anyway, if you haven't checked out any wines from Spain (some notable regions that would be printed on the labels are Rioja, Ribera Del Duero, Priorato, Navarra, etc.), you may be missing out on some of the best QPR (quality-price ratio) juice on the market. Granted, there is some pricey stuff from the above-mentioned regions, but the country is heavy loaded with values.
Beyond the fact that Spain has (relatively) recently made incredible strides in quality wine production, thus spurring more efforts in the realms of marketing and exporting (including aggressive price points to break into new markets), some of the production laws create incredible deals.
Take this Miles Standish-looking fella here. This is a bottle of Rioja. But, not just any Rioja. This is a bottle of tinto (red wine, in this case, made from mostly Tempranillo grapes and perhaps some Garnacha) Rioja Gran Reserva. Spain, like France and Italy, employs an appellation system, called the Denominación de Origen, or "DO". This system governs the viticultural and vinicultural aspects of the winemaking process.
Baby Steps: While there are DO/DOCa aging requirements in all of Spain, Rioja has its own system. Bottles- both red and white- will be labeled either Rioja, Crianza, Reserva, or Gran Reserva:
Rioja (commonly referred to as "vino joven", or "young wine"): no bottling or aging requirements. Wines are made to be sold within the first 1 or 2 years of production.
Rioja Crianza: Minimum 12 months aging in oak barrel, and another 6 months in the bottle, to be released in the 3rd year.
Rioja Reserva: Minimum 12 months aging in oak barrel, and minimum 2 years in bottle (they are not to be released until their 4th year).
Rioja Gran Reserva: Minimum 2 years in oak, then 3 more in the bottle. They are to be released in their 6th year.
So, what you get with these wines is a bunch of aging (which costs money to do) at a price point of those that don't get this heartwarming brand of fuzzy T.L.C. Take, for example, my wine. It had lost much grip of tannin, had very smooth, integrated flavors of fruit, earth, and oak...everything mingling together in perfect balance. Gone was a lot of the deep purple color seen in a younger wine, leaving a pretty, light ruby hue. Oh, and I forgot to mention: this was a 1996. Given was an opportunity to taste a wine from a not-terrible vintage with 14 years of age on it. What would you pay for this in France? $100? $200? Well, you're not going to pay $200. Or $100. You're not going to pay $90, or $80 (how's my Ron Popeil impersonation going so far?). The price of this wine? $29. Incredible value, and this is a brand that can be easily found and enjoyed.
And to many, $29 is not a reasonable price. You can get a Crianza or Reserva around $10-15. There are also some exciting non-DO wines (table wines without the stringent production laws) that are fantastic, and steals as well.
So, if you're wanting to keep knocking back great juice, but don't want to fork out the dough, do as your friendly neighborhood wino does: give Spain a try. Give the expensive California Cab a night off and go with something from the Iberian peninsula. Then, take the extra cash and buy some real shampoo. You may salvage your coif, unlike me.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Cannonball Comin'
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
What the @#%&*!! have I gotten myself into?
Call it dogmatic obligation. Call it spiritual vision quest. Call it personal challenge. Call it health ultimatum. Call it bat-shit insanity.
Whatever you want to call it, I've decided I will eat no animal product for the next 48 days. During Lent, I always try to sacrifice something. As a pretty lax Catholic, it's probably not buying me a whole of lot equity in the afterlife, but it's a challenge I always try to accomplish. For some reason, I make it pretty tough. I've done sweets. I've done red meat. I've even done booze (see Mom, I'm not really a "wino"). But this is an undertaking of stupefying proportions.
Let's say it's "modified vegan". I don't really care about any of the philosophical doctrine of veganism (you may just see me flossing a fur coat while drinking my green drink at the local smoothie shack). I just want to stay away from animal product, including meat, fish, and dairy. Furthermore, I want to accomplish three things:
1) Sweep some of this pesky cholesterol out of the pipes
2) Challenge myself
3) Learn how to cook more tasty, satisfying vegetarian dishes.
So, no meat, no dairy for 48 days. I'll drink wine, and I don't care if it's vegan-approved. I may even- in a moment of great weakness- scarf down some fish if desperate. But, I'm going into this challenge open-minded. I respect those who stick to a vegetarian diet for the health benefits or religious obligation, and I hope I can get some help and advice along the way. I'll probably try to post some recipes and even wine pairings if I scare up some winners.
And where will you find me April 4th? Probably at a churrascaria, scarfing down animals, both dangerous and delicious.
Wish me luck!
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