In other words, Avaline is for those who have never been curious how the sausage was made. For these consumers, wine may be a pleasure, but not one worth the modest effort to visit a specialist or to learn a little more about it themselves.
Nothing is inherently wrong with that, even if Ms. Diaz and Ms. Power exaggerate both the ills of conventional wines and the benefits of Avaline. And they have corrected some of their initial problems, like promising transparency but offering no information about who made the wines.
This has changed. We now know that Avaline’s sparkling wine, introduced for the holiday season, is made by Raventós i Blanc in Catalonia, an excellent producer whose wines I’ve recommended regularly. The rosé comes from Mas de Cadenet in Provence, and the white from Can Ràfols dels Caus in the Penedès region of Spain.
The red, we’re told, is made by a family that requests anonymity. But all the wines, the company promises, are made from organic or biodynamically grown grapes, are fermented with indigenous yeast and are appropriate for vegans, meaning the wines have not been clarified with egg whites or other traditional, animal-derived products.
Why the additional information? Abbott Wolfe, the chief executive of Avaline, told me that the company didn’t originally publicize its producers because it didn’t want to create problems for them with their importers and distributors who might consider their relationship with Avaline a conflict.
“The Avaline community showed very strong interest in knowing more about who is making Avaline’s wines,” he said. “We re-approached our producers, and three of the four agreed to allow us to now communicate our relationship.”
Other clean wine companies are not so transparent. Instead, they speak generally about selling wine made by “traditional methods.” They use terms like Scout & Cellar’s trademarked “clean-crafted.” They promise, like Good Clean Wine, to “make wine that pairs well with a healthy lifestyle,” without feeling the need to explain what that means.