Living in Zin

For as much as wine is cultural in that traditional, we-need-to-celebrate fashion, it is also commercial in that business, consumer-market sense. Unfortunately, it is not all about the passion and the craft as some would want us to believe.  Whether it is a proprietary blend, a highly regarded region, or a reputable vineyard, entrepreneurs are always looking for an “in” at the bottle shop. However, no matter how cleverly one markets his or her latest bottle, it is the product itself that matters.  Unfortunately, like it or not, marketing plays a significant role in persuading consumers to take home any particular bottle, though I still prefer word of mouth.

It seems that it is rather difficult to be original when marketing wine, though they have certainly tried.  With such celebrity puns as the Marilyn Merlot or nods to the “poor wino” with the plainly labeled Cheap Red Wine, marketers have played a lot of angles.  But perhaps one of the most overly attempted ploys in wine marketing would have to be the punning of the zinfandel grape with its associations to the depravity of humankind—there are saints and there are zinners.  It would seem multiple vineyards have caught on to the fact that “sin” rhymes with “zin.”  Well I am not that big of a curmudgeon—I get it—and, to be completely honest, most of these wines are, dare I say, zinfully delicious. (I will stop here with my pun usage.)

So, if you choose to live in sin, there are several bottles to accommodate your darkest needs.  The first one I came across was a bottle of Cardinal Zin; formally of Bonny Doon, this wine is one of the many quirky offerings from Underdog Wine Merchants (see also Pinot Evil and Big House Red).  Another bottle I commonly come across is 7 Deadly Zins, whose label even goes as far as to include a prayer, of sorts, that plays on the refrain, “Oh Lord, forgive me my Zins.”  To me, this all feels rather ironic, saying that the majority of Christian rituals revolve around resolving one’s sins through the consumption of wine, and I doubt for that matter that transubstantiation is, at any level, taking place anywhere before, during, or after the corking of any of these bottles, but I digress.

Alexander Valley Vineyards has even used the idea of sin to characterize a trio of wines from their portfolio.  Apparently, they have a bottle of wine for wherever one finds him or herself on the road toward salvation; from Temptation to Sin to Redemption, they have a bottle for your needs, which are also priced conveniently in that order.  I prefer the fall itself.  Their simply dubbed Sin Zin comes complete with a depiction of Adam lounging in paradise drinking from a wine skin—perhaps he will know his shame in the morning. 

Anyway, these are all quality bottles of wine, so please do not let my cynicism dissuade you.  I would gladly drink any of these wines, though if I needed to rank them in order, I prefer the Sin Zin the most and the Cardinal Zin the least.  All of these bottles range from the mid-teens to the low-twenties, and the Sin Zin falls appropriately in the middle.

The Cardinal Zin and the Sin Zin share similar fruit structures, ripe dark berries in line with well-developed zinfandels.  However, the Sin Zin has a much richer, more defined palate; the flavors run deeper and spread more smoothly across the mouth.  The Cardinal Zin has a more distinct black pepper spice that sparkles on the tongue, but the flavors also peak while still in the mouth. The finish is neither as consistent nor as steady as the Sin Zin.  It has been a couple months since I’ve enjoyed a glass of 7 Deadly Zins, but I remember it falling in between these two, a richly developed profile but not as complex as the Sin Zin.

Perhaps these marketing schemes paid off as it seems the collaborative efforts of these vineyards created yet another genre for wine, and although I do not expect these bottles to find their way into the alter’s chalice anytime soon, their craftsmanship does speak toward the divinity of humankind.  So, if their only sin is quirky marketing, I can forgive them and drink their wine.  After all, I did say that it was the wine itself that matters. Cheers.