That was a line my old boss loved to repeat to the staff during service. Of course, he usually said it before he started judging the wine in front of him. But the more I think about it, the more I realize there is some truth hidden inside that statement.
After all, the purpose of winemaking is not just pride or artistry — it is also business. Wineries exist to sell wine. From a purely economic standpoint, why would anyone intentionally produce a bad wine? Winemakers spend years tending vineyards, carefully fermenting grapes, aging wines, and protecting their reputations. Their goal is always to produce something people will enjoy enough to buy.
Yet the question remains: what exactly is “good wine”?
The answer is more complicated than most people think.
Taste Is Subjective
Wine appreciation is deeply personal. What one person finds extraordinary, another might find overwhelming.
Some people love wines that are fruity and aromatic, bursting with notes of peach, passion fruit, or rose petals. Others prefer something more restrained — neutral, mineral-driven, or savory. Some drinkers gravitate toward bold reds with powerful structure, while others prefer crisp whites, delicate rosés, skin-contact wines, or sparkling wines.
A study conducted in Europe even suggested that regional preferences can influence taste. Drinkers from warmer countries often gravitate toward richer, fuller-bodied wines. A Portuguese drinker, for example, might naturally appreciate wines from Bordeaux, Napa Valley, or Mendoza - wines with power, ripeness, and structure.
Meanwhile, drinkers from cooler climates may find more pleasure in wines with higher acidity and elegance, such as those from Burgundy, Germany, or northern Italy.
Of course, these are broad generalizations. But they illustrate an important point: our palate is shaped by culture, climate, and experience.
Producers and Philosophy
Certain wines are widely respected simply because of the meticulous care behind them. Some producers are uncompromising about their philosophy, even when trends move in another direction.
I experienced this firsthand when I attended a master class with Jean-Louis Chave, the legendary producer from Hermitage in the Northern Rhône.
As we tasted his white Hermitage, the wine was powerful, rich, viscous, savory, and deeply layered. The acidity was softer than what many modern drinkers might expect. Today, many producers harvest grapes earlier to preserve acidity and brightness, a style that has become fashionable in regions like Burgundy and elsewhere.
But Chave explained that he refuses to harvest early simply to follow trends. His wines reflect the tradition of Hermitage, wines that are structured, full-bodied, and capable of long aging.
For him, the goal is not to chase fashion. It is to remain faithful to the identity of the vineyard.
The Power of Trends
Trends also shape how we perceive wine.
Around 2011, rosé suddenly became the drink of the moment. Social media hashtags like #roséallday flooded Instagram, and the pale pink wines of Provence became a global phenomenon. These wines were delicate in color, fragrant with floral aromas, and refreshingly crisp - like walking through a summer garden.
Then, like most trends, the spotlight began to shift.
Orange wines - skin-contact whites with tannin and structure - gained popularity. Natural wines followed, bringing with them a new aesthetic: cloudy bottles, funky aromas, and sometimes elevated levels of volatile acidity. In traditional winemaking, these characteristics might be considered flaws.
Yet for many younger drinkers, particularly in places like Brooklyn, these wines became symbols of authenticity and rebellion against convention.
What one generation calls flawed, another generation might call exciting.
Again, the lesson is simple: taste evolves.
Can You Taste Terroir?
This brings us to one of wine’s most debated questions: can you actually taste terroir?
Ask a wine scientist, and they may say no - at least not in the way people romantically describe it.
Ask a winemaker, and they will likely say absolutely.
In Burgundy, vineyards are famously divided into tiny parcels called climats, each believed to express a unique identity in the wine. Two vineyards separated by only a few meters can produce wines that taste dramatically different.
Yet the reality is complex. Some great Burgundy vineyards were once quarries, later filled with soil and planted with vines. The relationship between soil, geology, and flavor is not always straightforward.
Still, I have my own theory.
Think about the ocean.
Today we know the ocean is salty, but billions of years ago it likely wasn’t. Over time, rainfall — naturally slightly acidic due to dissolved carbon dioxide — interacted with rocks and minerals on land. Volcanic gases like sulfur dioxide made rain even more acidic. As this water flowed through soils and rocks, it slowly dissolved minerals. These minerals were carried into rivers and eventually into the oceans, creating the salinity we know today.
Now imagine a vineyard.
Rainwater interacts with different soil types - limestone, granite, slate, and clay. The chemical reactions between slightly acidic water and alkaline soils break down minerals in subtle ways. Deep-rooted vines absorb water and nutrients from these layers over decades.
Perhaps what we taste in wine is not literally the flavor of rocks, but rather the indirect influence of soil chemistry, drainage, microbial life, and vine physiology.
In other words, terroir may not be a flavor, but it is still an influence.
So What Is a Good Wine?
In the end, a good wine is simply the wine that you enjoy.
I cannot convince someone who loves Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc that a bottle of J.L. Chave Hermitage Blanc is inherently better. And I certainly wouldn’t try to convince someone who drinks Grand Cru Burgundy that an Australian Pinot Noir is superior.
Wine should never be about proving someone wrong.
For me, wine has always been about something bigger than taste. It is about community.
Sometimes when I visit friends, they open a bottle of Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s. It’s not rare. It’s not collectible. It’s not a Grand Cru.
But I drink it happily.
Maybe that’s the wine they know. Maybe it’s what they can afford. But the fact that they opened a bottle and shared it with me - that matters far more than what’s in the glass.
Because wine, at its best, is not about prestige.
It is about people.
So drink wine. Enjoy it. Share it with others.
And most importantly - Drink Responsibly.