Make up your mind! We Rangers have defined ourselves in terms of something other than ourselves, something that is arguably far more primary, and thus in some sense more authentic and meaningful. I suspect this is due to our rigorous conservation of lees, and our predilection for minimal racking. Le Cigare Volant has given me the opportunity to show the world my blending chops, as it were.
A few have taken notice, the long-time fans, but for the most part, the world is just moving too fast for this to have been that big of a deal. All of these issues would likely work out just fine if we were able to sell most of our wine directly to our customers, or were not obliged to offer special killer deals through the wholesale channel on by-the-glass pricing.
But Cigare in its current format seems to have lost a certain relevance to the modern market. It has become a bit like the brilliant, slightly eccentric uncle whose bad puns, meandering stories and arcane references are amusing at holiday get-togethers, but maybe just once a year now seems to be about the right frequency for a visit. Is my fate thoroughly dooned? Robert Parker himself commented at some point that while BDV may have presented itself as a small, boutique winery, it was in fact nothing more than a wine factory , and therefore incapable of producing soulful wines of distinction.
As human beings, we are always trying to find an explanation for why things go the way they do, especially in times of adversity. One thing is for certain, the wine business itself has changed rather dramatically; there are now so many more structural challenges to success.
Need to differentiate Big House from other wines? Seal it with screwcap! Customers not so accepting or fearful of screwcaps, you say? Hold a funeral for M. Thierry Bouchon! I think that perhaps what my Cigare experience has tried to teach me is a certain sort of humility. Cigare has always been a sort of performative exercise, and always strongly bounded by my own significant limitations.
