It is a commonly accepted notion that the only fair and objective way to judge and rate wines is in a blind tasting. A blind tasting means that the wines are concealed so their identities are unknown. Generally, they all share something in common, so they may be compared as well as evaluated.

Blind tasting is the standard operating procedure for wine-judging competitions, tasting panels at magazines such as the Wine Spectator and the Wine Enthusiast, and often at private tasting groups.

I love to attend blind tastings because they give me a chance to test my wine scores and impressions against those of the other tasters, whether they are professionals or consumers, and occasionally to see how I have rated a wine tasted blind compared with a previous tasting note taken on the same wine. But I don't entirely agree that blind tastings are the only, or even the best, method for evaluating wines.

In a blind tasting you are deliberately denying yourself a great deal of information. You may know the vintage or general region of the wines but you do not know specific blends or vineyards or winemaking techniques. You are not able to draw upon past experience that might give you insight into the history of the winery, its track record and ability to produce great or ageworthy wines. While playing the guessing game (what grape, what region, what vintage, etc.) is fun and challenging, it is easy to be misled, and even the pros miss more often than not.

Blind tasting is really a fun exercise that puts anonymous wines in a certain kind of light, but just because those wines might provoke a different reaction if tasted unveiled is not necessarily wrong or misguided. Would you go to an art museum with the paintings unlabeled and all mixed together just to see which ones stood out? Or would you rather know something about the artist, the time and place of the work, and its particular history?

Such thoughts ran through my mind recently when Seattle-based wine retailer Garagiste (profiled in this column on March 23) organized a blind tasting of 16 Bordeaux wines from the 2002 vintage. The tasting included all of the first growths, several super-seconds and a number of other highly rated wines from the vintage. There was one ringer (unannounced) and the suggested retail prices on the wines ranged from roughly $35 up to $250.

The tasting was beautifully staged, and the dozens of attendees had ample time to carefully sample each of the 16 wines, in any order they chose. We were asked only to rate the wines and vote for our top five. At the conclusion of the tasting, scores were compiled, and some very interesting results turned up.

Comparing my list of top wines with those voted by the group, I found that in the first seven places we had only one wine in common! That, I confess, was a bit surprising, given that there were only 16 wines overall.

Curious, I compared my scores and ratings with the scores the wines received in last April's issue of Robert Parker's Wine Advocate. Listed in the chart above in order are my top seven wines, my score, Parker's score, the group ranking and approximate retail price.

In the group voting, the top seven wines were:

• Pape-Clement

• Mouton Rothschild

• Latour

• Osoyoos Larose (the ringer)

• Palmer

• Leoville-Barton

• Lafite Rothschild

Conclusions? The blind-tasting format brought some of the less-prestigious wines well forward in the group ranking. Would my scores have changed had I known what I was tasting? I would certainly have given the Latour (which I ranked just below the Haut-Brion) a closer look. I suspect the group would have been less enthusiastic about the Osoyoos and more interested in the Leoville Las Cases.

The blind tasting format, both fun and educational, also demonstrates the inherent fallacies of group rankings. The same is true of ratings given by magazine tasting panels and medals awarded at competitions; all are deceptive. Conglomerate rankings push all wines to the middle of the pack, penalize the more subtle or elegant wines, and favor those with big, forward flavors. This is not to be critical of the consumer favorites; in this tasting, there were no dogs. Any of these wines would be more than welcome at the dinner table.

But blind or otherwise, the Pape-Clement seemed to me a bit on the tutti-frutti side — more California than Bordeaux. Palmer is a wine that I have never been fond of. And the Osoyoos, though tasty, stuck out like a sore thumb; I had it spotted as the ringer all the way.

My top three wines, which coincidentally all fall in the lower range of prices among the 16 wines represented, would certainly qualify in my mind as better values than most of their peers. (Value in this instance being highly relative, of course.) I've always liked Leoville Las Cases and Pichon Lalande; Vieux Chateau Certan is a wine I have not tasted as often, but will certainly look for in the future. It's a beautiful Bordeaux, scented with violets and rose petals, lightly toasty, with a firm core of sweet cassis and black cherries, and a lingering, complex, thoroughly satisfying finish.

Paul Gregutt is the author of "Northwest Wines." His column appears weekly in the Wine section. He can be reached by e-mail at wine@seattletimes.com.

Taste test comparison
Shown here are Paul Gregutt's top seven wines and his scores from a blind taste test compared to scores and rating in last April's issue of Robert Parker's Wine Advocate, the group ranking from the tasting and approximate prices.
Wine	Gregutt	Parker	Group	Price
1. Vieux Certan (Pomerol)	95	93	15th	$100
2. Leoville Las Cases (St. Julien)	941	952	13th	$85
3. Pichon Lalande (Pauillac)	94	94	12th	$70
4. Cheval Blanc (St. Emilion)	94	90	11th	$225
5. Mouton Rothschild (Pauillac)	93	933	2nd	$150
6. Margaux (Margaux)	92	93	8th	$140
7. Haut-Brion (Pessac-Leognan)	92	894	10th	$160