So quickly do the wine bottles clatter down the assembly line–barely stopping for each to receive a 750-milliliter-squirt of cabernet sauvignon, cork stopper, foil seal and front and back label–that it is surprising to see the vintage expressed as “2001” rather than “November” or “11:30 a.m.”
“Theoretically, this could be put out on the floor of Trader Joe’s in Napa today, and someone could have it for dinner tonight,” said Harvey Posert, spokesman for Charles Shaw wines, as bottle after bottle rolled off the assembly line and headed toward trucks waiting at the loading dock.
Here in the heart of the valley that produces America’s most prestigious and expensive wines, the hottest-selling wine is one defined by mass rather than class.
“Two-Buck Chuck,” as it’s known for its $1.99 price tag (in California), continues selling nearly as fast as Charles Shaw can bottle it: The company recently sold its 100-millionth bottle after just two years on the market, making it the fastest-growing label ever in the American wine industry.
Sold exclusively through Trader Joe’s gourmet stores, the wine has drawn immense buzz among consumers who cart it out by the caseload, even here in Napa, home to boutique wineries and renowned labels.
“The bottom line is, everybody would like to think they go home and drink a $25 bottle of wine with dinner every night,” said Pat Andress, manager of the Trader Joe’s in Napa, which opened last fall. “The truth is, the Monday to Thursday wine-drinking business is the $2 bottle of wine.
“It’s a great value. Is it a bottle of Chateau Lafitte? No,” said Andress, referring to the famous French Bourdeaux. “It’s a wine that, when you go home, you aren’t afraid to open a bottle of it.”
Two-Buck Chuck is actually Three- and Three-plus Buck Chuck in the 11 other states in which it is sold because of additional transportation costs and taxes involved in crossing state lines. (In Illinois, it costs $2.99.)
Sales sensation
The Two-Buck Chuck story combines business savvy with sheer luck, a bit of intrigue with Internet-aided word-of-mouth.
Charles Shaw is one of about 30 labels owned by Fred Franzia and his Bronco Wine Co., powerhouses in the industry because of holdings at almost every level of business–from growing grapes to making wine to distributing it wholesale. Franzia took advantage of a glut in California grapes–the wine boom of past years led to over-planting, and prices for the fruit dropped in the 2001 and 2002 harvests–to market a low-cost wine under the label of Charles Shaw, a long-dormant name.
Trader Joe’s, whose stock in trade is gourmet goods at reasonable prices, proved to be the perfect match for a new rock-bottom-priced wine. The store already carried other budget lines, and the retailer became the new Charles Shaw’s exclusive seller. A Trader Joe’s employee happened to mention in an Internet chat room that he and his colleagues called the fast-moving wine Two-Buck Chuck among themselves, and the nickname soon took hold.
Hitting the market in February 2002, Two-Buck Chuck actually benefited from the economic woes of the time. The downturn left many consumers anxious about spending, so a $2 bottle presented a reasonable risk.
Old concept, new approach
There has always been cheap wine, of course, from the vin ordinaire sold in Parisian neighborhood joints to the jug and boxed wines that have fueled many an American back-yard barbecue. What sets Two-Buck Chuck apart is that, to some palates, it’s quite acceptable: neither great nor appalling, particularly considering the price. Unlike other cheap American wines, it’s generally drier rather than sweet, and comes in proper packaging: corked and in the same kind of 750-milliliter bottle that “good” wine comes in, as opposed to a bargain jug or box.
Plus, Chuck allows its drinkers to thumb their noses at the wine poseurs, always under suspicion of having no greater palates but simply fatter wallets.
A research and marketing study last year found that most Two-Buck Chuck customers are drawn from those who previously were buying $5 to $10 bottles of wine rather than total newcomers to the market.
And, indeed, that segment of the market has been hurt the most by the Two-Buck Chuck craze, which has stolen sales from such labels as Mondavi’s popular, under-$10 Woodbridge line. Consumers say you’d be hard-pressed to tell the difference between Two-Buck Chuck and wines costing three to five times more.
“I serve it to friends when they come over, and they can’t tell the difference,” said Elizabeth Schutz, 35, who, with her companion, Richard Smith, 44, recently picked up yet another case of Chuck merlot at the Napa Trader Joe’s.
Two sides to Chuck
Two-Buck Chuck’s popularity has caused consternation within the industry that it is downscaling the Napa market, Andress said. That’s because Napa’s producers acknowledge the recent grape and wine glut dropped prices as in a normal supply-and-demand market rather than keeping them artificially high for the prestige factor.
“We have a love/hate relationship with wineries,” Andress said. “A lot have an elitist attitude, they think we’re ruining the market. We just think wine should be fun.”
Although one of the largest grape growers and winemakers in California, Franzia is considered something of a bottom-feeder and an outsider in clubby Napa. His grapes are from the less desirable Central Valley to the south, and wine is blended there and then trucked to Franzia’s bottling plant here.
Two-Buck Chuck’s label only claims to be “California wine,” although the back label gives Charles Shaw’s address as either Sonoma, where Franzia owns another bottling facility, or Napa, which strikes some as rather disingenuous.
“The only Napa these grapes have seen is from the back of the truck,” said Andre Van Der Heyden, a longtime boutique winemaker here. Still, he believes that the hype over the $2 wine is bringing new customers into the industry rather than simply cannibalizing the existing market.
“You can look at a glass as half-full or half-empty,” he said. “It’s going to make new people come into the wine world. You can fool them a couple of times, but not all the times.”
Meaning, they’ll move up the wine chain, and even perhaps reach his level, where a bottle of his 2001 chardonnay costs $22 and his 1999 cabernet sauvignon costs $50.
“A palate wants to get more educated,” agreed Brad Warner, winemaker at the Sawyer Cellars. “Maybe these people were drinking white zinfandel before.”
Sawyer Cellars, coincidentally, is a half-mile south of where the original Charles Shaw winery was based. Shaw, a banker turned vintner who had the not entirely successful idea of making gamay beaujolais, eventually bailed out of the wine business. Franzia bought the label.
It is a simple and all too common event in Napa, where winery bankruptcies and buyouts occur as regularly as harvests and crushes. It would rate little notice outside the industry were the new wine not such an unprecedented success, or had “Chuck” not rhymed so felicitously with “Two-Buck.”
And, while many have warned that Chuck can’t last at two bucks (the grape glut is ending, for one thing), Posert, the Bronco spokesman, can only laugh.
“Charles Shaw could die a natural death at some point in the future,” he said. “But he is not anywhere near life support.”
