If ever the idiocy of the global wine culture needed to be demonstrated, the fate of white Rioja would be the easiest way. These lean, haunting wines are the equal of anything. But to contemporary taste, weaned on fruity jollity, they seem resinous and forbidding. They pull the drinker into another century, where he probably doesn't want to be: into a world of mold, patience, and muck. And, of course, one of elegance and refinement.
