by Jake Lorenzo

Last week Jake Lorenzo went to Napa to pick up some glass for my upcoming bottling of Guerrilla Vino. Coming home, it was 2:00 PM, with the lunch rush winding down, so I stopped into a restaurant to say hello to a longtime Chef/owner friend and maybe have one of his legendary meatball appetizers. Chef sat at a table sampling some wine with a salesman and the director of his wine program. Seeing me, he leapt from his chair, gave me a hug and insisted I join them. The salesman poured a Cabernet Sauvignon from Alexander Valley that was lush, complex, full of flavor, and carried by great acidity with a soft tannic finish. We all nodded our heads, “Delicious.”

The salesman said, “And the winery is blowing this out for just $10 a bottle, trying to land by-the-glass placements.”   Chef talked to his young wine director, Bobby, asking what they would charge as a by-the-glass price. With a straight face Bobby replied, “I think it would do well at $22 a glass.”

Jake Lorenzo went off like a plugged fermentation lock exploding from a barrel. I hurtled across the table, knocked Bobby backward in his chair and had my hands squeezing his throat as his face turned red. Fortunately, Chef and two waiters pulled me off him before I had caused any serious damage. Bobby gasped to catch his breath, terror in his eyes as he looked at me.

I admit; it was not this detective’s proudest moment, but for more than 30 years I have been railing against restaurants that used outrageous wine and beverage markups as their primary profit centers. Depending on the size of their glass pour, Bobby was proposing marking up this bottle of wine 10 to 12 times cost. This detective bled for the winery, forced to sell their wine at a major loss, probably in need of some cash flow and to move some products off their inventory. Instead of passing along the savings to their clientele, thus encouraging more consumption (after all a depletion is a depletion) Bobby was gouging the winery and his customers assuming $22 a glass for wonderful Cabernet Sauvignon would seem like a deal.

Jake Lorenzo has always had a hard time with restaurant wine markups. The old standard wine list markup of three times cost caused my blood pressure to rise. When they decided the price of a single glass of wine should equal the cost of the bottle, my fists would clench involuntarily. As I watched glass pours shrink from six ounces to five ounces and now sometimes just four ounces, I needed Jakelyn’s mother or Chuy or some other trusted friend to remind me to breathe slowly until my heartbeat returned to normal.

Surely, I thought people weren’t going to put up with these ridiculous mark ups. Years ago, when restaurant wines started at $30 per bottle, I assumed there would be some backlash. No? When the bottom of the list started at $40 customers would make it known that the price is too high. Still, no? Well, who the hell was going to drink wine with their pizza when the cheapest bottle went for $50? I had counted on the dining public coming to its senses and demanding that restaurants lower their markups or at least provide reasonable alternatives for those of us who love a good meal accompanied by a thrilling bottle. It didn’t happen, and restaurants assumed they could continue to raise prices at will.  At some point a private eye needs to give up. When wine lists climbed to a $60 per bottle starting point, this detective stopped going to restaurants.

Since I rarely go to restaurants now, I didn’t notice that people had finally hit the wall on wine pricing. Several recent surveys show a 15 to 30 percent drop in restaurant wine sales. That’s not all, tourists no longer flock to wineries to taste their wares, wine club members are fleeing like beachgoers in the face of a tsunami. Wineries are laying off staff, closing production facilities, and ripping out vineyards. Local wine is just too damn expensive for many of us, but wine gives us pleasure and is part of our daily ritual, so we scour store shelves for reasonably priced wonders from other parts of the world. Instead of going to a restaurant, we cook a nice meal at home with friends, share a couple bottles of wine and save a fortune.

Let’s get something straight, right off the bat. Jake Lorenzo, private eye, loves a delicious meal cooked by a talented chef, especially when accompanied by a couple bottles of fine wine. Jakelyn’s mom and I aren’t fashion plates, we don’t gamble, nor do we use drugs, so our discretionary spending is focused on travel, food, and wine. A three hour lunch is one of the glories of life, and for decades we have been dedicated to discovering the right chefs, sampling their inventive cuisine, and enjoying those meals while sipping tasty wines.

After a delicious meal, it is customary for us to invite chefs to our table to share a glass of wine. If they are congenial and show a sense of humor, we invite them over to the house, offering to cook for them. Usually, by the time we give them a second invitation, they have checked around with other chefs who have visited us and are willing to come over. For years, chefs have joined us at table, scoured my wine cellar, and wandered through Jakelyn’s mother’s garden

Sadly, it seems this time has passed. Jakelyn’s mother and I rarely go out to restaurants to eat. When a simple meal for the two of us with a single bottle of wine adds up to $200 to $300, we cannot justify the devastating hit on our monthly budget that a couple meals out will inflict. We still want to go to your restaurant, eat your food and support your business, but you need to work with us to get us to come back.

I propose restaurants start locally. Forget about trying to attract the rich and famous and work on getting your neighbors to walk through the door. Have at least one night a week where you waive corkage. This would allow us to sample your food and drink decent wine but still have enough money to pay the electric bill. Try one night a week where all the wines on your list are half price. Believe it or not, wine lovers appreciate good wine with delicious food. Give them the opportunity to try wines a bit beyond their reach. You’ll still make plenty of profit, and you’ll have customers returning regularly. Actively search out inexpensive wines that you love and add them to your list at reasonable markups so your customers can enjoy them as well. When you get deals on wine from desperate wineries, share some of the savings. If your cost is $10 per bottle, charge $30 on the list and $8 per glass. You’ll still make three times cost, but you’ll make your customers happy.

As much as you want to push strange tasting natural wine, or rare, exotic varietals, drop a few from your list to honor local, historic pioneers still pursuing the dream. Were it not for their struggles and success you probably wouldn’t even be here, and after corporate entities had their way with the California wine business, there aren’t many family wineries left.  Every Napa restaurant should be selling Storybook Mountain Zinfandel, Lang and Reed Cab Franc and something from Frog’s Leap. Shouldn’t all Sonoma County restaurants serve Pellegrini-Olivet Lane and maybe Rochioli? Doesn’t Tobin James belong on every list in Paso Robles along with a Dusi Zinfandel? Adam Tolmach has been making great wine from the very beginning. His wines deserve a place on any restaurant wine list from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara. Learn your history. Honor the pioneers. They are not getting any younger.

Happy hour is your friend. A few selected dishes along with some interesting wine and beer selections will encourage people to try your food. Bring back winemaker dinners that are bargain priced instead of $150 and up. Wineries are desperate to deplete mounting inventory. They’ll give you a deal to feature their wine with your food.

It could work. What have we got to lose? Times are tough. We’ve got to try something. Restaurants and wineries should be partners in providing a great experience for people who love food and wine. We should work together for a common goal.

It could work.

2 thoughts on “It Could Work

  1. I like these ideas! I’ve been seeing the half-priced bottle deal on Monday nights at restaurants near me.

  2. this was an email reply, ended up a post, but thought it would be okay to add here. =)

    I’m finally catching up, and in this mystifying world, I am further mystified why they would drop a column like yours, as this speaks to what so many of us have experienced in the last 30 years of hospitality, F&B, and wine and spirits.

    Pardon a meandering rantish thought bubble that came from reading this article:

    Business is so different, and lo and behold it’s even odd to say that it’s just not as fun anymore. Not only that, it’s dangerous, there’s so many new costs, there’s liability and exposure unlike the past. There’s working with people out of alignment and with unrealistic expectations, building owners that don’t live in the communities and can’t fathom the pulse on the ground. A K-shaped economy, they call it, where 20% of consumers are well off enough to do 80% of the spending, so the economy looks healthy while 80% get squeezed. Grocery prices are up 33% since 2019… profit was always a choice, it wasn’t the covid dented supply chain after all. We’ve lost community spaces, ie bars and places to be with other humans, because we’ve engineered glowing rectangles into our lives so there’s an ability to craft the narrative, divide us, track us, and monetize us. Seems inhuman, no? Someone wrote an article that no one is hanging out or drinking, everyone is on weight loss drugs, and getting high at home, so the future is “beautiful, stoned, and lonely”.

    I’m finishing editing an 800 page lost book from a Vegas bartender, and after that I’ve been musing a pivot from our work into a “third space”, as they call it, community cafe and spirit lounge based on my 2000 lps and 20 years of DJing. But, where are we with an economy built so that it’s too expensive for consumers to consume, and it’s too expensive for a business to operate? What now, what next?
    I’ve found, at the very old or very young age of 50 depending who you speak with, that an analog existence is truly the solution. My albums will never have a commercial, nor will I have to wonder if it’s “AI slop”. Fighting the smartphone addiction of scrambled anxieties, opting for long-form thought, getting back to books, getting back to staring with no intent. It’s human to not know things, we’ve not known things for thousands of years. But it’s obvious why we’re so addled, when 20 years ago our brain was filled with “I need to get to the bank and post office”, while in 2026 the smartphone has scores of apps with endless settings and we’ve all this manufactured data to addict us… in game purchases & DLC, tracking our steps and our workouts… gamifying all the data so it consumes us as an addiction, pulling a slot machine handle where the cost to play is our human time. No wonder gambling addiction is so pervasive, now… technologists have engineered the internet to addict us at every turn. AI is absurd, and isn’t even an option, because why would you outsource your human condition? What a sad thing to use the cold machine of AI to tell you how to give up on creativity and our human race.

    So that’s the “thought bubble” in relation to missing your column, Wine Biz Monthly feels a bit emptier, and I’d say soulless but they do good work and it’s the business and the tone of just about every aspect of our world has changed. It’s impressive, in a world of fallen trades and publications, they’re still printing.

    But it’s just not a priority now, and I guess it’ll just be picking up a few of your past, and upcoming, books. Thanks for what you do.

    -Me

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