Stuck in the middle

Why you can't always get what you want

by David Marglin

I LIKE THE wines of Williams Selyem, a California producer of mondo pinot noirs. I'm lucky enough to be on the winery's mailing list, and I get their wine shipped to me -- but not in Massachusetts. The wine is sent to another state, where I pick it up myself.

Why? It's the law. In Massachusetts, you can only buy wines brought into the state by licensed importers. You can't order directly from wineries outside the state. You can't have your friend in New York buy you a bottle of wine, or a case of champagne for your party, and send it to you. Unless you want to carry the wine into Massachusetts yourself, the way I do, you can't take advantage of better prices outside the state.

The reason for this began with the repeal of Prohibition, when the 21st Amendment gave states enormous power to regulate alcohol. The system in Massachusetts is known as a "three-tier" system: the top tier is the producer, who bottles the wine; the middle is the importer, who brings it into the state; the bottom is the retailer, who sells it to you.

It's that middle tier that determines which wines we can buy in Massachusetts. The middlemen are the only ones allowed to bring wine over state lines. What they don't bring in, nobody drinks.

This doesn't much affect people who buy only inexpensive wines; most mass-produced wines are widely available, and any money you save buying by mail will be offset by shipping costs.

But as soon as you start searching for some of the hard-to-find wines you read about in a magazine -- or even, sometimes, in this column -- you may find yourself out of luck. Say you want a bottle or two from a winery you visited in upstate New York, such as King's Ferry. Can you call and ask them to send you a case? No. It's illegal. Unless someone is importing that wine into Massachusetts, you can't get it without carrying it back from the winery yourself (and there are laws about that, as well).

The law affects wine drinkers in other ways, too, some of them less visible. Take the idea of "exclusivity." Let's say one Massachusetts importer has an exclusive deal to supply the state with a certain wine you love -- say, the Teofilo Reyes from the Ribera del Duero. Today you can buy it for $30 a bottle at the Wine and Cheese Cask. But then a glowing review comes out and -- whoa! -- now the importer wants to charge double. Tough luck for you: pay the price or leave it on the shelf. There is no competition. The importer with an exclusive deal is a monopoly. Sometimes the net draws even tighter: an importer will earmark its entire allocation of a certain wine to one restaurant or store, as Vintage Imports did recently with Sean Thackrey's Pleiades. You want Pleiades? Welcome to Biba, baby, because that's the only place in the state where it's sold.

Now, as my colleague Thor Iverson has pointed out, importers can play an important curatorial role: they choose wines to bring into the country (or into the state), and if you like their tastes, then chances are you'll like most of the wines they carry. But you can't follow this principle blindly, since importers cut deals with producers. For example, if the importer wants to import Famous Wine X (maybe with an exclusive), then she also has to import Dubious Wine Y. The importer has to unload the second-rate wine somehow; maybe it ends up as a restaurant's house pour; maybe it ends up on sale at your local wine store. To be fair, the good importers do carry mostly good wines. But few, if any, have only good wines. The three-tiered system essentially guarantees a greater percentage of less-desirable wine on wine lists and store shelves, and in this game of musical wines, someone ends up drinking the inferior bottle. We try to keep that someone from being you.

So . . . aside from reading this column, what can a mere consumer do? Well, you can practice subterfuge when looking for hard-to-find wines: have a friend buy your wine from an out-of-state store or winery and then ship it to you. Or find a store that will ship to you despite the law and hope the wine doesn't get intercepted.

You can also take heart. The importers' monopoly is going to crumble -- and if you're reading about this for the first time, then let me tell you why. Recently a trade association of wholesalers sued FedEx and Virtual Vineyards, an Internet wine retailer, here in Massachusetts. A federal judge threw out the suit for technical reasons, but if it had gone on, the countersuit by Virtual Vineyards would likely have resulted in a finding that Massachusetts's wine-import laws -- like those in most states -- are unconstitutional. The middlemen form a powerful lobby, but eventually they will lose their monopoly.

When that happens, consumer choice will explode. You'll be able to read about a wine, jump on the Net, and within a day or two, if it is available anywhere, find it on your doorstep. Competition won't drive all prices down, but no wines will be legally out of reach.

Until that happens, you can console yourself with these selections -- exemplary wines from a handful of the Commonwealth's best importers. Prices are based on area liquor stores.

HH1/2 Martin Codax Albarino 1997 Rias Baixas ($12.99). Imported by M.R.R. Traders. This crisp, feisty cub has a tart finish and great bite. Good with shellfish or lemon chicken. Very Spain, very now.

HHH Domaine Paul Blanck Pinot Blanc 1997 Alsace ($12.99). Imported into the US by Michael Skurnik and into Massachusetts by Vintage Imports. Rich and satisfying, with plenty of acidity and bite. It carries a hint of lavender riding gently underneath stronger floral (honeysuckle!) notes up front. Great with pasta, veal, or shrimp cocktail. Serve cold.

HHH Brancott Estate Sauvignon Blanc 1996 New Zealand ($21.95). Imported to the US by Seagram's, and to Massachusetts by United Liquors, this is the closest thing to grapefruit juice you'll find in a wine bottle -- delightful and utterly refreshing. Serve it with anything and gobble it up if you can find it!

HHH Terre Rouge Noir (Blend) 1994 Sierra Foothills California ($21.99). This wine is quintessential Peter Sagansy/ Wineworks, and I should have mentioned it in my column on blends. A typical Rhone blend made of 42 percent grenache, 36 percent mourvedre, and 22 percent syrah, this has a ton of lithe fruit. It makes for incredible drinking now, but I would not be afraid to hold it for a while.

David Marglin can be reached at wine[a]phx.com.