by Ethan Johnson
November 19, 2008
Whoa, where is everybody going? Come ON, you're not going to snob out on me, are you? Let us not forget that the point of this series is to provide totally unpretentious wine reviews. And what could be devoid of pretense better than a glass of White Zin? Let's handle up on our business and have a nice glass of:
Producer (Vineyard): Beringer
Varietal (Grape type): White Zinfandel
Vintage (Year): 2007
Country: USA (California)
Color: Blush
Cost: Cheap ($7 USD)

Swirl and Sniff: The color is light pink in the center and clear at the edges. Sniff-wise, thou snobs, I caught quite a few scents from this here vino: Rubbing alcohol, honey, strawberries, cherry throat lozenges, and maple syrup. Frankly, I'm sick of sticking my snoot in a "right and proper" red and coming away with two scents to report: Alcohol and plums. So there.
Taste: Yep, very syrupy, but not cloyingly so. There are strawberries and tropical fruits in there (think canned fruit cocktail) and a syrupy, honeyed finish. I'm not gagging like the syrupy Riesling I tried recently.
Pairing: I drank this as a "screw it, I worked a double shift today and I want some gods-damned wine tonight" nightcap. Had I paired this with food, it would have to be something sympatico, like fruit salad. As I recall from my White Zin-drinking days certain seafood entrees paired reasonably well.
Rating: When it comes to this wine, I would (and you may):
- Buy three or more bottles for regular enjoyment
- Buy a bottle or two for occasional enjoyment
- Ask for when dining out or at a party
- Settle for if your preferred wine is not available
- Politely decline and never drink again, ever
I am giving this a mixed rating as yes, my inclination would be to put this harmless experiment behind me and keep this review for posterity as a reminder as to why I don't reach for White Zin anymore. However, I can see some value in it. For the novice wine drinker, White Zin is an excellent intro wine to get acclimated to the idea of swirling/sniffing and focusing on the flavors on your palate. Of course there are much better wines to be had, and of course some people cling to their old standbys and don't "evolve" enough to appreciate them. But here is what I was thinking about as I sprung for this cheapie bottle of wine: I haven't had a "wow" wine in a long time.
A "wow" wine makes it clear, without a doubt, what it is that attracts you to wine. Your senses are fully engaged. Your synapses are stimulated. You get that tingly feeling that says "holy crap, where has this wine been my whole life?!" It's the kind of wine that drinks like a great book: Fantastic while it lasts, but sadly, the story is going to end too soon. It's the benchmark against which all other wines will be judged. I am fortunate to have experienced a "wow" wine over the course of my short wine appreciation activities, and I'm very ready for the next one. Like great books, they aren't abundant.
So I went for the other end of the spectrum. The Wine That Should Not Be, as per wine/Zin purists. Oh really, purists? I guess white Bordeaux can't exist (blend of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillion). I guess red blends can't exist. Hell, even pricey red zins (White Zin has slight contact with the grape skins for the pink color) are often a blend of "Zin and". Seems to me, Opus One is a, uh, red blend. I cannot vouch for the actual quality of the wine. I have heard nice things about it. (Grin.)
Despite its ill repute, I needed a wine to ground my senses a bit and snap it out of the usual three descriptors. I was amazed to pick up so many sensory details, like 4-5 different scents, and 3-4 different flavors on my palate. I needed an experience like this one to condition my senses for the really good stuff, and yes, I have really good stuff in my stash. I don't want to uncork the good stuff only to say "plums and alcohol, AGAIN", unless that's really all there is to say about it.
Thus, you don't have to like White Zin. Nobody is making you drink anything you don't like. But before we completely throw poor old White Zin out with the bathwater (preferring the bathwater, akshully), let's give it a little grudging respect, huh? Everyone starts their wine journey somewhere. "Serious" wine drinkers beating up on White Zin is like a PhD beating up on Kindergarten. It's nice to know that I have graduated from the kiddie pink stuff to the grown-up red stuff, but maybe we'd do well to stop once in a while and smell the rosés.
Groan yourself.
If you do give this a try, please let me know how your experience compared with mine. Thanks! <EM>
(The Totally Unpretentious Wine Reviews Index may be found here.)
