I’ve had it with prune-colored California pinots that taste like over-oaked top-heavy syrahs. I give them a sniff, two sips just to be fair, then a groan and a thumbs-down score. I’m not merely disappointed. I think they’re a wine crime. Why? Because when pinot is made to caress the tongue instead of grabbing it, it can seduce the palate as no other grape can. Fortunately, the small band of passionate pinot makers championing pure fruit elegance and silky-textured finesse over gross oak and ghastly levels of alcohol (some 16 and 17 percent!) is growing and getting more vocal.