“Wine is complicated. Almost impossibly so.”

Jamie Goode

Recently I was in Brooklyn for a meeting. Dinner the first night was with four MS colleagues. The menu was shellfish and seafood-based and the wine list was small but eclectic—no surprise given that we were in Brooklyn. Dinner was delicious and the conversation ranged from sports to books to movies to politics to—you guessed it—wine. For the last bottle of the evening, someone in the group decided to order the most expensive wine on the list, an Etna Rosso that was a natural wine. If not familiar, natural wine is loosely defined as wine made with minimal intervention and without added sulfur. 

In short order, the bottle was brought to the table and opened. In the glass the wine was cloudy and fizzy. On the nose it showed a tsunami of fingernail polish remover from EA (ethyl acetate)—the highest level in any wine I’ve ever tasted. On the palate, the wine was fizzy, funky, and tasted like homemade cider still fermenting. No doubt the wine was still going through malo-lactic fermentation/conversion. The EA was another problem entirely and probably due to serious fermentation issues. 

A spirited discussion immediately ensued, or erupted, to be more precise. Mind you, the five of us sitting at the table collectively have over a century of experience in the industry. In short order, many global-level questions quickly fired out:

Does wine quality actually matter?

Should quality always be a top priority in buying wine for a restaurant list?

Does winemaking process--or lack thereof--trump place/terroir and/or quality?

Does appellation matter in the context of natural wine?

How does natural wine fit into the context of a wine list and program?

How should natural wine be explained and sold tableside to diners unfamiliar with the category?

Does natural wine need standards and a certification like organic wine and biodynamics?

Ultimately, is this an age-demographic issue?

Should we, as wine professionals even care?

The initial point I made to my colleagues after we tasted the wine was this: our generation and those before us focused on studying and mastering classic grapes and wines with the goal of being able to judge quality measured against historically established benchmarks. That’s what our jobs as buyers required us to do. The generations that have followed haven’t necessarily used the same model. They didn’t always pursue formal training or certifications with emphasis on the classics. Instead they focused on what potentially could and would be the most novel style of wine possible in the moment—and that definitely includes natural wine. And wine quality—and knowledge of it—seems to have become a secondary goal. 

One of my colleagues offered the thought that sommeliers have a unique window into the wine universe. It’s a view of immediacy where buying decisions are informed by previous experience that helps to create a wine list and program based on quality, typicity, and balance. And the wines chosen for the list should be able to sell without the buyer on the floor to explain them. Further, our years of experience provide us the knowledge to make consistent buying decisions that will please our guests tonight—and not months or even years in the future. 

Another remark made during the discussion was that there are any number of great wines made “naturally,” with little so-called intervention and minimal use of sulfur. However, these wines are made by skilled winemakers who have formal training and considerable experience. With few exceptions, they choose not to call their wines “natural” and for obvious reasons. Finally, someone else in the group equated the more vocal proponents of the natural wine camp are not unlike the anti-vaccination movement.

Context and Wine Faults

In the way back machine when I was studying for the exams, I paid $250 to smell and taste bad wine for an entire day. Such is the life of a budding wine acolyte. There’s more. I had closed down the restaurant on a Friday night around 1:00 AM with a good friend/fellow sommelier. A few hours later, we both got up at the crack of dawn and met. Strong coffee and something fried and topped with sugar were quickly procured and then we drove to U.C. Davis about 90 minutes away. There, under the instruction of a Davis professor who was a wine chemist, we were tutored for an entire day on the perils of common wine faults. The professor’s delivery was about as scintillating as dry wall. The class notes came in the form of a thick binder filled with diagrams of chemical compounds that for all the world looked like Sanskrit to me (my science career ended with ninth grade biology).
​
Throughout the day, we were subjected to glasses of wine doctored with varying levels of faults, some at saturation levels. Regardless of the tedium and confusion, the class worked. TCA, Brett, VA, and other faults were indelibly burned into my brain and nervous system. For better or worse, they probably can never be removed. Beyond the olfactory trauma, the instructor hammered home the idea that even trace elements of faults render wine quality questionable, if downright compromised. That maxim, too, stuck for a long time.

Looking back, I now know that the subject of wine faults is not so easy. As with everything else in wine, context has a major role to play. I’m not alone here. In his new book, “Flawless: Understanding Wine Faults,” Jamie Goode offers a different view on Brett, excessive VA, and more. He writes that context, place, and the specific wine all are parts of the wine hygiene equation. That with some wines, higher levels of Brett and VA are not only commonplace, but historically acceptable. He does draw the line at TCA, which he universally considers a fault. Here are two of my favorite quotes from the book’s introduction.

“I want to introduce a concept that I think is really helpful for understanding wine faults, and for grasping the notion that some flavor chemicals can be both faulty and positive, depending on the concentration and context.”

“I will argue that the most attractive, compelling wines are those that have elements of their character that, if they were in a different context or present at higher levels, might be considered faulty. When if volatile acidity too high? When is greenness good and when is it too bad? When are tannins too grippy and firm? When are earthy, spicy characters off-putting? When is savoriness or gaminess too prominent? When is new oak too obtrusive? When does a wine pass from mature to senescent?”
​
Goode’s book then goes on to break down all the common wine faults in detail, including lady bug taint and eucalyptus taint that I hadn’t previously considered as such. But his questions above stayed with me long after I had finished the book. In many cases, how much is too much? And how is it that we as a group at the table instantly knew the Etna Rosso had unacceptable levels of EA and was in fact flawed? After all, there are more than a few classic wines (Amarone and Barolo to name two) where high levels of VA are not only common, they’re traditionally found and even expected. The same goes for Brettanomyces. 

Perhaps the answer to this fault vs. flawed dilemma lies in the mercurial concept of wine balance. That if a “fault” dominates the aroma-flavor profile of a given wine rendering it mono-dimensional, the wine should be considered flawed. To point, a touch of VA--volatile acidity—gives any wine an aromatic lift on the nose. But any wine that reeks of fingernail polish is flawed and probably shouldn’t be served in a restaurant. Likewise, the presence of Brett in a wine can lend complexity to the nose and a savory-earthy quality to the palate. But too much Brett and the wine becomes a rodents-covered-in-Band-Aids experience. Beyond, the same rule could also apply to the use of new oak, over ripe fruit, high alcohol, and more.

As for Goode’s book, I think it should be required reading for any student on an exam track—and most professionals too. Be forewarned that there is more than a fair amount of chemistry in the text.

The Wines of Ton Rimbau

By now you might be convinced that I’m categorically against natural wine. However, this is not the case. In the year before I moved back to New Mexico, I worked with Paco (Francisco) Cifuentes in San Francisco to help put his Spanish wine portfolio together. His company is called Whole Wine. Paco is a Silicon Valley bio-chemist originally from Madrid. Over the course of several sessions, Paco and I tasted bottlings from over two dozen Spanish producers I’d never heard of. All farmed organically or biodynamically and several made natural wines. The most memorable producer in the tastings by far was Ton Rimbau from the Penedès. Rimbau makes a Cava and two bottlings of Xarel-lo. All are natural wines. But Rimbau, even for a natural winemaker, is a bit of an extremist. Let me explain.

In the vineyard, Rimbau puts magnets on the trunks of the vines to balance their polarity. At some point, he dug a 40-foot deep well on his property and filled it with artesian water. He bottles all his wines in porcelain crocks and ages them under water for a minimum of four years. As for wine packaging, Rimbau has all the wine/winery information embossed on a piece of small piece of wood which is then tied to the neck of the bottle with a piece of twine. Needless to say, he had to be convinced/coerced by Paco to put a back label on his wines to get them into the U.S. The results? I’ve tasted the wines several times and found them to be not only utterly curious but more than drinkable. And aside from some noticeable VA, the wines are clean and well-made. Should you be interested, information about Rimbau’s wines and Paco Cifuentes’ Whole Wines portfolio can be found here:
​
www.sensewines.com/ton-rimbau

Back to Brooklyn

As we tasted the volatile, fizzy, and very pricey Etna Rosso, what came up unanimously was that the natural wine category desperately needs standards and a certification like organics and biodynamics. The industry—and the public for that matter—needs to be able to clearly understand what the term “natural” actually means in regards to wine in the bottle. The sooner these standards and a certification are adopted and used, the better.
Where does that leave us? In the end, I can only address the questions our group posed with my own answers. Here goes.

Q: Does wine quality actually matter?
A: Yes, it absolutely does. Otherwise there are no metrics for consistency, much less standards, for what constitutes great, good, indifferent, and bad wine. Judging wine quality can only come about through a process of education about classic grapes and wines. And that process presupposes a duration of time and experience.

Q: Should quality always be a top priority in buying a wine for a restaurant list?
A: Once again, absolutely. The traditional role of a buyer has always been to serve as a filter of sorts to be able to offer guests/clients wines that are clean, well-made, and typical of the appellation; wines that ultimately can be recommended and sold without hesitation. This is not pie-in-the-sky whimsy I’m talking about--it’s business. And any business cannot survive, much less thrive, without long-term repeat customers. Selling lousy or flawed wine is not exactly a win-win for a restaurant much less anyone else.

Q: Should winemaking process--or lack thereof--trump terroir and/or quality?
A: In my opinion, an emphatic NO. Any sense of place/terroir can easily be blurred, much less obliterated by winemaking--especially bad winemaking. Fizzy, unstable wine is universal. It knows no specific style, place, or grape. That is not to say that there is an entire category of commercially produced—sometimes mass-produced—wine that is also totally devoid of a sense of place. In that case it’s all about over-processing and lowest common denominator for the sake of a price point.

Q: Does appellation matter in the context of natural wine?
A: I think it potentially can if tradition and long-term practice in a particular place point to a wine style that can be called natural. 

Q: How does natural wine fit into the context of a wine list and program?
A: I think natural wine can potentially be part of most wine programs with the caveat that the buyer/sommelier and staff must be trained on the wines and how to sell them. Further, that everyone involved also understands that natural wine is a style of wine and not the end-all or be-all of the entire wine universe.

Q: How should natural wine be explained and sold tableside to diners unfamiliar with the category?
A: I think natural wine should be sold at the table as a specific style of wine with an explanation about the intent of the winemaker, lack of preservatives during winemaking, non-filtration, etc. Mind you, all this has to be explained at a level where a diner/consumer can understand what they’re getting in the glass. That’s not exactly easy. Finally, any mention that natural wine is the only “true” style of wine should be avoided at all cost. This is utter nonsense.

Q: Does natural wine need standards and a certification like organic wine and biodynamics?
A: All roads lead to the answer “yes.”

Q: Ultimately, is this an age-demographic issue?
A: I think this may be a knee-jerk reaction/response by those in the natural wine camp when they get push back for seriously variable wine quality. It’s not exactly, “you kids get off my lawn,” but it might point to the ability—or lack thereof-- to judge wine quality based on experience.

Q: Should we as wine professionals even care?
A: Yes! We absolutely should and must care. Otherwise we should get out of the business and go do something else entirely.

Coda
​
Sometimes I think that wine universe is like a never-ending moveable feast that is constantly changing and evolving. Some wines delight while others simply confound. But the possibility of surprise will always exist and often in unexpected moments. With that, I won’t hesitate to taste natural wines in the future. I also look forward to standards and a certification for natural wine with great anticipation.

I’m often asked about classes I teach outside of the Master Sommelier curriculum. While I often put together one-off custom tasting sessions for various clients, there are two classes that I regularly teach at the Napa Valley Wine Academy in Napa. Good friends and colleagues, Christian Oggenfuss and Catherine Buguet, are owners and partners in the school. Early on they asked that I design professional tasting classes that would benefit students regardless of their specific exam track. They also requested that I include some of the strategies from the work I’ve done over the last decade in my tasting project. The results are the two classes in the “SommDay” series I teach at the school several times a year as well as in Tampa and Denver: The Intro to Tasting Workshop and the Advanced Tasting Workshop. Here’s some information about both classes.
 
The Intro to Tasting Workshop
 
The Intro to Tasting Workshop is an information-packed day of tastings, demonstrations, and lectures focused on deductive tasting—the tasting method used in various forms by every wine certification organization. Here’s what I cover during the class day:

• Reviewing the proper set up for tasting including lighting, tasting space, and glassware
• Learning the deductive tasting method and grid
• Discovering how to look at, smell, and taste wine in the context of the deductive grid
• Learning glassware stance: the best way to “address” the glass to be able to consistently and optimally smell wine; including glass angle, passive vs. active inhalation, and finding the right starting eye position for smelling wine
• Learning fruit families for classic grapes and wines
• Learning to recognize important non-fruit elements in white and red wines
• Learning about a peer-reviewed scientific definition for terroir--the earth and mineral elements in wine
• How to recognize the structural elements in wine; the levels of acidity, alcohol, and tannin
• Making the best possible conclusion about a wine using the deductive tasting method and grid
• The definition to dozens of wine terms
• How to take concise yet accurate tasting notes
• A strategy for focus and concentration when tasting
• A strategy for olfactory and palate memory

 
​The Intro to Tasting Workshop is open to anyone. If you’re just getting into wine, this class is the best possible way to get started on the right path. If you’re studying for the WSET or other wine exams, the material we cover will be a huge benefit to your studies and success with exams. I’ve always thought that a single session with the right teacher can make a huge difference in one’s knowledge and skills. This is definitely that class.
​
Advanced Tasting Workshop

The Advanced Tasting Workshop takes the deductive tasting process multiple steps further and introduces vital concepts that every professional simply must learn to be a proficient taster. The class is also a one-of-a-kind in the industry in that it combines these two upper level concepts with several strategies from my tasting project that are taught nowhere else. Here’s what I cover during the class day:

• Learning about the concept of “Cause & Effect,” the reasons why any wine looks, smells, and taste the way it does
• How to connect the dots between "Cause & Effect" and wine quality
• Applying “Cause & Effect” to the deductive tasting grid
• Learning the concept of “Impact Compounds,” the small subset of aromas and flavors that are key in identifying classic grapes and wines. Learning to recognize these compounds is vital to anyone becoming a professional taster and equally important for success in upper level tasting exams
• Keying in on common challenges for tasting students: oak vs. no oak in white wines, phenolic bitterness vs. used oak in white wines, and earth/mineral vs. no earth/mineral in both white and red wines
• Examining the most common wine faults, how to identify them, and how important context is to certain wine faults
• The definition to a myriad of advanced wine terms
• Learning how to use an internal visual cue to accurately and consistently assess the structural elements in any wine—the levels of acidity, alcohol, and tannin
• Using internal images and submodalities for improving olfactory and palate memory
• Strategies for confidence in taking exams

​
Where the Intro to Tasting Workshop helps set a baseline of wine knowledge and tasting, the Advanced Tasting class is all about optimizing everything you do as a taster. The class is open to anyone, but I strongly recommend taking the Intro to Tasting Workshop as a prerequisite. That’s because the Advanced tasting Workshop offers a remarkable amount of information in just one day.​

​Information about the Intro to Tasting Workshop can be found here:

​Information about the Advanced Tasting Workshop can be found here: 

If I had to prepare for the MS tasting exam all over again, I would make the process as streamlined as possible. And the two the things I would spend the most time on are the concepts of “cause and effect” and “impact compounds.” The idea of cause and effect is all about connecting the dots by answering the question why: why a wine looks, smells, and tastes the way it does. The answers involve every aspect of vineyard environment, grape growing, and winemaking. The process is thorough, to say the least. For more on cause and effect, take a look at a previous blog post from the murky past:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/cause-and-effect-the-why-behind-deductive-tasting

Beyond cause and effect, impact compounds are a smaller subset of aromas that a student absolutely must learn and even own, so to speak. These compounds are derived from grape chemistry, vineyard environment, and winemaking techniques. Needless to say, the compounds are key markers for identifying classic grapes and wines. I can’t emphasize enough how important they are to the learning curve of becoming a professional taster, much less a necessity for exams. No surprise that I strongly recommend any student work on their memories for all the compounds listed below far more often than actually tasting. Otherwise, here is a list of most of the important compounds.

Disclaimer: I am NOT a chemist. In fact, I’ve never even impersonated a chemist much less taken chemistry in high school or college. I am a product/victim of a ‘60’s Catholic school education. By the time I arrived at a public high school, my math and science skills were beyond woefully inadequate. But I could diagram a sentence with the best of them. In all seriousness, the intent of mentioning chemical compounds here is all about sharpening the Occam’s Razor of deductive tasting.

Pyrazines: a chemical compound that smells and tastes like green bell pepper, asparagus, and cut grass. Recognizing pyrazines is important for identifying Cabernet family grapes including Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Sauvignon Blanc, and other Bordeaux varieties.

Terpenes: intensely aromatic compounds with pronounced floral and sweet citrus notes. Common terpenic compounds include:

• Rose oxide: found in roses and rose oil; responsible for Gewürztraminer’s rose and litchi notes
• Linalool:  highly floral and ginger-spice notes in Muscat grapes
• Geraniol: the scent of geraniums and lemon
• Nerol: the scent of roses and orange
• Alpha-terpeniol: grapey, pine-like aromas found in Torrontés

Grapes/wines displaying terpenic qualities include the following:

• Medium terpenes: Albariño (with lees contact and phenolic bitterness) and Riesling (with TDN and possible botrytis)
• Medium terpenes and elevated alcohol: Viognier (with possible diacetyl and oak) and Torrontés
• High terpenes: Gewürztraminer (lower acidity and elevated alcohol) and Muscat (higher acidity and less alcohol)

Rotundone: a chemical compound called sequiterpene that accumulates in grape skins, increasing in concentration between véraison and harvest. Rotundone accounts for the peppery aroma found in certain white and red grapes.

White grapes with rotundone: Grüner Veltliner from Austria

Red grapes with rotundone: Syrah/Shiraz

• Old World: wines from Northern Rhône Valley appellations of Côte-Rotie, St.-Joseph, Crozes-Hermitage, Hermitage, and Cornas
• New World: Syrah/Shiraz wines from Australia, California, Washington, South Africa, and others

Other grapes with rotundone: Grenache and Mourvèdre as well as the Italian red varieties Schioppettino and Vespolina. Zinfandel from California also contains the compound.

TDN: the source of the petrol or kerosene character most commonly associated with Riesling. Technically, TDN is a chemical compound called 1,1,6-trimethyl-1,2-dihydionaphthalene. It was first isolated by German scientists in 2006. However, a study by the Australian Wine Research Institute found that high concentrations of TDN could also be the result of fruit grown in a region with a shorter, warmer, ripening cycle. It’s also thought that the combination of water stress, soil nitrogen deficiency, specific yeast strains, and clonal selection all affect the development of TDN.

Thiols: are sulfur-containing compounds that are present as odorless precursors in ripe grapes. During fermentation, yeasts can cause thiols to become volatile. These compounds are known as mercaptans and smell and taste like rubber, garlic, or onions. Thiols can be incredibly pungent but can also provide certain varietal aromas such as grapefruit, blackcurrant, passion fruit, and lemongrass.

Botrytis: the botrytis mold is responsible for many of the world’s great non-fortified dessert wines including Sauternes, Hungarian Tokaji, and Trockenbeerenauslese from Germany and Austria. Botrytis influence in wine smells and tastes like honey/honeysuckle, ripe/over-ripe stone fruits, marmalade, toffee, ginger, and button mushroom. It’s important to note that botrytis character can also often be found in non-dessert dry table wines including Alsace Pinot Gris and Riesling, Loire Valley Chenin Blanc (Vouvray), and German Grosses Gewächs Riesling. 
​
Phenolic bitterness: phenolic bitterness in certain white wines is derived from the must being in contact with grape skins before, during, or after fermentation. Grapes/wines displaying phenolic bitterness include the following:

• Albariño and Grüner Veltliner: moderate alcohol with phenolic bitterness
• Alto Adige Pinot Grigio: medium aromatic intensity with phenolic bitterness
• Alsace Pinot Gris: phenolic bitterness on the finish along with riper fruit, elevated alcohol, possible botrytis, and residual sugar
• Viognier and Gewürztraminer: highly aromatic grapes/wines with elevated alcohol and pronounced phenolic bitterness

A last note: it’s important not to confuse phenolic bitterness with used oak on the palate. The latter will always be accompanied by aromas and flavors from oak aging. Phenolic bitterness is just that—bitter. 

Lees contact: aromas and flavors resulting from wine in contact with fine lees after primary or secondary fermentation. The term “autolysis” describes the gradual breakdown of lees over time. Lees contact in white wine smells and tastes like yeast, brioche, bread dough, and toast. Lees contact also adds a richer, creamier texture to the finished wine. Lees aging (contact) is an important method used in making Chardonnay as well as Muscadet, Pinot Grigio, Grüner Veltliner, Albariño, and certain dry Rieslings. Finally, it must be mentioned that lees contact is a vital part of the process used to make classic method sparkling wines.

Diacetyl: a by-product of malo-lactic fermentation/conversion responsible for the butter/cream/dairy notes in Chardonnay. Recognizing diacetyl is important not only for Chardonnay-based wines, but other white wines that undergo Chardonnay “treatment” such as Viognier.  

New oak: imparts a wide range of aromas and flavors including vanilla, baking spices, chocolate, coconut, dill, smoke, toast, coffee, tea, and more. It’s important for the student to be able to identify the markers of new oak vs. a wine without oak-aging--and to be able to describe them.

Carbonic maceration: a winemaking technique often associated with wines from Beaujolais. The intent of carbonic maceration is to extract maximum color and fruit from the grapes without excessive tannin. Wines made with carbonic maceration display overtly fruity aromas and flavors that are often described as candied or artificial. Jolly Rancher candy, bananas, and Hawaiian Punch are common descriptors. Carbonic wines also tend to display green woody notes as stems are naturally included during fermentation. Aside from Beaujolais, carbonic maceration is often used for some Côte du Rhône red wines, mass-market commercial Zinfandel, Shiraz blends, and others.

Stem inclusion: the use of stems during fermentation is commonly practiced in red winemaking in Burgundy as well as Beaujolais. In the latter, the practice of stem inclusion is the result of fermenting whole clusters of grapes via carbonic and semi-carbonic maceration. Aromas and flavors from stem inclusion can best be described as green and woody.

Brettanomyces: a yeast whose origins have been traced to the Senne Valley in Belgium. Brett, as it is often called, originates in vineyard soils and can also be found in winery environments. Brett smells like barnyard, animal, fecal, and medicinal/Band Aid. The threshold for detecting Brett as well as tolerance--even preference—of it varies dramatically with the individual, ranging from zero-tolerance to strong preference. However, it’s also important to note that Brett is highly contextual in wine. The presence of higher levels of Brett in certain classic Old-World wines is far from unusual. Bordeaux, Burgundy, Rhône wines (both the North and South), and other traditional Old-World reds fall into this category. For the student, it’s important to be able to detect Brett-related aromas and connect them to these possible wines/origins.

High VA: VA, or volatile acidity, is a by-product of fermentation and therefore present in all wines in trace amounts. Detectable acetic acid is usually considered a fault. However, like Brettanomyces, VA is highly contextual. In wines such as Barolo and Gran Reserva Rioja, higher levels of VA are acceptable and viewed as facet of wine style. 

Raisination: wines displaying raisinated fruit characteristics can be caused by several different factors: grape varieties that ripen unevenly, making wine from over-ripe grapes, or making wine from dried grapes. In New World red wines, raisination is often associated with Zinfandel and Syrah/Shiraz, as both tend to ripen unevenly. Both wines will also tend to display elevated alcohol levels as they are often harvested late in the season. In the Old World, raisination can be found in certain Italian red wines, most notably Recioto della Valpolicella Amarone, which offers elevated alcohol, residual sugar, and possible elevated levels of volatile acidity. Raisinated qualities can further be found in other Italian passito wines (Passito di Pantelleria) as well as sweet fortified dessert wines such as Sherry, Port, and Vin Doux Naturels.

Tasting Practice with Impact Compounds

As mentioned, it’s absolutely vital that students learn to recognize impact compounds and further be able to connect the dots to the appropriate grape varieties and wines. With that, here are some recommended strategies for tasting practice with the compounds.

Use a Coravin

As I’ve stated before, practically every wine accessory is somewhere between almost useful and utter crap. An exception to the rule is the Coravin—simply a brilliant invention. Using a surgical-quality needle and a small cannister of argon gas, the Coravin allows you to tap into any bottle, take out as much wine as desired, and leave the rest preserved for months. In short, it allows anyone to taste a wine repeatedly over time without compromising the rest of the contents in the bottle. With a Coravin, you can purchase top quality examples of classic wines and taste them multiple times--over a long duration of time. And that will save a lot of money.

Taste Wine in Pairs

I find that our brains easily learn differences in side-by-side comparisons. With that, taste wines in pairs that show different compounds. The Coravin will allow you to taste pairs of wines multiple times until the desired “Aha!” moment occurs. Here are some suggested pairs of wines to taste that display different compounds or winemaking techniques:

• Oak vs. no oak: Chablis 1er Cru vs. California Chardonnay
• Non-ML vs. ML: Chablis 1er Cru vs. California Chardonnay
• Mineral vs. no mineral: Chablis 1er Cru vs. California Chardonnay
• Pyrazines vs. terpenes: New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc vs. Alsace Gewurztraminer
• Used oak vs. phenolic bitterness: Vouvray Sec vs. Alsace Gewurztraminer
• Carbonic vs. non-carbonic: Beaujolais Villages vs. AC Red Burgundy

Calibrating Structural Extremes

Using the Coravin again, here are suggested pairs of wines to taste that show extremes in structural elements:

• Acidity - lower vs high: Alsace Gewurztraminer vs. Australian Riesling
• Alcohol - low vs. high: Mosel Riesling vs. Central Coast Viognier
• Tannin - low vs. high: Beaujolais Villages vs. Barolo
• Phenolics - low vs. high: Chablis vs. Alsace Gewurztraminer

Non-Tasting Sensory Work

Finally, I recommend daily practice of your memories of both common wine aromas and impact compounds. Using the list above, go through your memories of all the compounds at least once, if not multiple times a day. It takes very little time and the rewards are considerable. Be mindful of the fact that you use images for all your olfactory memories. When you go through the list, make the image of the compound you’re working with at the moment internally as large, close in proximity, and as bright as you can. It will make the exercise a lot easier and far more effective. I strongly believe any student needs to do sensory memory work five times more than actually tasting. After all, the entire tasting process is all about perception, recognition, and memory—and all can be easily practiced without physically tasting.
​
Cheers!

Recently I had lunch with a colleague. At some point during our conversation he bemoaned the complexity of food and wine pairing and how difficult it was to get the right match, much less explain the concepts. I countered saying it was a lot easier than he thought and offered to prove it. He challenged me to do just that. I upped the ante by saying I could do it in less than five hundred words. You are now the benefactor—or the victim—of that challenge. Read on.

Disclaimer: the following is in no way intended to be the ne plus ultra—the last word—on food and wine pairing. Like many other things in life, the basics are straightforward but the potential to go down a rabbit hole, drop into an abyss, or be sucked into the vortex is always possible. All nonsense aside, I have to humbly submit that good friend Evan Goldstein’s two books on food and wine pairing, “Perfect Pairings” and “Daring Pairings,” are nigh untouchable. If you don’t own them, you should. Now to business.

Food and Wine Pairing in Less Than 500 Words

Elements in Wine:

Acidity: the single most flexible element in wine for pairing with food. Higher acid wines are more versatile.

Tannin and oak: the least flexible elements—both dictate a narrow range of dishes that pair well.

Alcohol: higher alcohol in a wine requires more intensity in the dish. Lower alcohol wines are more versatile. 

Sweetness: white wines with residual sugar are chameleons—they work with a wide range of dishes with the exception of red meat.

Dessert: the wine must always be sweeter than the dessert or both will taste lousy.

Elements in Food:

Salt: takes the edge off acidity but exacerbates tannin in red wines.

Butter/animal fat: takes the edge off tannin and needs acidity for contrast.

Fish oil: needs dry, high acid white wines or bubbles. Avoid tannin in red wine.

Sugar: makes dry wines taste more austere; needs wines with residual sugar.

Spicy heat: needs residual sugar--avoid tannin!

Umami-earthy-savory elements: need higher acidity, less tannin, and possible earthiness in aged red wines.

A Few Apparent Truisms:

Matching the intensity of the wine to the dish is usually key.

If the dish is too spicy-intense it will dominate the wine.

Likewise, if the wine is too powerful/tannic it will overwhelm the dish.

With any dish, the sauce, condiments, or method of preparation can dictate the kind of wine.

For example, take chicken: it can be boiled, sautéed, roasted, or grilled. The intensity of the preparation will usually dictate the kind of wine paired—unless the sauce or sides on the plate are more intensely flavored.

Complement vs. Contrast

To complement or contrast: that is the question.

Trying to find similarity/same flavors between the wine and the dish is usually pointless.

Finding contrast between the wine and the dish--a high acid wine with a rich sauce--is usually the way to go.

The Almost Golden Rules

The most versatile wines: unoaked high acid whites with moderate alcohol or medium-bodied red wines with moderate tannins and less oak.

The least versatile wines: high alcohol, oaked whites and high alcohol reds with high tannin and new oak.

Versatile white wines: Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc, Albariño, lighter Grüner Veltliner, Pinot Bianco, Pinot Grigio, and unoaked Chardonnay.

Versatile red wines: Pinot Noir, Gamay, Sangiovese, Barbera, Tempranillo, and lighter Grenache blends.

Bubbles: dry sparkling wine and Champagne are brilliant with a wide range of dishes.

Rosé: dry rosés from any number of different grapes and places are among the most versatile wines of all.

Context: despite everything I’ve just written, some will end up drinking whatever they like to drink, which might be the oakiest Chardonnays and Cabernets on the face of the earth—regardless of what’s on the plate. C'est la vie.

Advice: when handed the list at a restaurant for a party of 10 ordering everything possible, go for unoaked Sauvignon Blanc for white and Pinot Noir for red. The two will cover practically everything.
​
Fin

Some years ago I lent a recording of Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra to a colleague. We’d been having a series of conversations about classical music that ended in 20th century works. I remember raving about Bartok’s concerto, my favorite 20th century piece. I promised my friend I would lend him a CD of the legendary Fritz Reiner Chicago Symphony recording. The next day I did just that with high hopes he would love the piece as much as I did—or at least like it.

Several days later he returned the CD saying, “I tried listening to it several times but just didn’t get it. I couldn’t find any tunes in it and the music really doesn’t make sense at all.” I told him no problem and thanked him for at least checking it out. In the next few days I thought about his reaction. Here was someone who constantly listened to a broad range of music—and quite a lot of classical music at that. Even with his profound love of music, the Bartok was an alien experience that failed to click with him. Why? Perhaps the answer was simply not enough time or experience listening to similar music.

Classical music strives to put on a friendly face to appeal to the masses. One can listen to a hopefully decent rendition of the Pachelbel Canon (which I fondly refer to as the “Taco Bell” Canon) at a niece’s wedding and sigh with contentment as the lilting sounds fill the nuptial space. But classical music can just as easily take a deep dive into complex depths that defy humming or random toe tapping. Here is where the Bartok resides, at the deep end of the pool. And it doesn’t take lightly to someone enthusiastically leaping in wearing water wings or other cute inflatable devices.

The point I make here is that despite the Taco Bell Cannon and other Reddy Whip tunes, what we call classical music is NOT easy. As a field, it covers a vast territory including the likes of history, culture, science, performance, psychology, and much more. The potential to spend an entire career much less an entire lifetime in study or performance exists in multiple arenas. Any real knowledge requires a journey involving a lengthy duration of time, focus, and a hell of a lot of work. But it can also be enjoyed by just about anyone just about any time.

The same holds true for wine.

The Grand Illusion

Anyone who wants a glass of wine can usually obtain a bottle of mass-produced commercial plonk and be perfectly happy in the moment. A collector or industry professional can likewise open and pour a rare, uber-expensive bottle from a world-famous estate. Repeated sips of said nectar can and often do bring the partaker into a highly altered state that is impossible for them to describe—and equally impossible for practically anyone else to understand.

What’s the take away here? First, that context, as always, is the most important piece in the wine equation. Second, like classical music, wine is not easy. It can be as simple as Hearty Burgundy or as profound as a rare bottling of actual domain-bottled Burgundy.

We as an industry have long been guilty of putting up the grand illusion to the masses that wine is easy. That with a sip here and there and a quick read about the new vintage accompanied by those handy scores, one can “hack” being a wine expert. After all, what could someone who’s been in the business for a couple of decades possibly know that I don’t? Yes, we’ve lied long and often to the masses and it’s gotten us in trouble.

How then should we as an industry proceed? What can we do to provide a clear, well-lit path for those just getting into wine that will consistently provide the right information and experiences, even to the extent of showing the way to become a professional? Perhaps the answer to this dilemma is some kind of road map that lists frequent stops to define basic terms, give tasting tips, and provide easy to understand information about labels, styles, grapes, and places. But the map would also suggest a sequence of learning to make the process easy to track for anyone not just interested in a glass of wine—but a possible career. Until someone actually creates such a map, I will humbly offer some advice to those just getting into wine. But first, some useful guidelines to keep in mind before hitting the road.

A Few Apparent Wine Truisms
​
Other than the fact that it’s a liquid fermented from grape juice, there are precious few absolutes about fine wine. If you entertain the notion of proclaiming a new one to the masses, the universe will be all too happy to shove one or multiple exceptions in your face--immediately. However, there are a few truisms that seem to be accurate, at least most of the time. If you’re new to the wine game, these will help.

• Different people like different kinds of wines.
• One’s personal wine preferences have a lot to do with individual sensitivity and/or preference to what are called structural elements in wine: the levels of dryness-sweetness, acidity, and tannin.
• It’s quite possible to come across a wine that you strongly dislike, but that’s true to type and perfectly well made.
• Tasting wine is a combination of objective and subjective experience.
• In the beginning, tasting will seem like a completely subjective experience.
• Over time it will become more objective.
• Tasting is almost completely objective to an experienced professional.
• In other words, an established industry professional is not making things up when they talk about or write about wine. Seriously. If you think they do, you need to get a clue. Sorry, a bit of rant here but it needs to be said.
• Your palate—and the kinds of wine you like to drink--will change over time. Count on it.
• Context, as previously mentioned, is the single most important piece in the wine tasting equation. The who, what, when, where, and how you taste or drink a wine can be more important to the tasting experience than the wine itself.
• Finally, wine is not easy. But if you chip away at it—as in tasting, drinking moderately, and doing a bit of reading on a consistent basis, you can learn a lot about it over time and even master it after a great deal of time. 

Wine Advice 101

Someone once said that it takes a village to nuke a whale. Actually, I just made that up. Here is some sage advice I wish I would have had way back, when I first discovered wine.

Learn the basics: you’ll need a good reliable source of basic information. There are lots of books and websites out there, but for my money Winefolly.com and their book, Wine Folly: Essential Guide, is the best for anyone just getting into wine. Former student Madeline Puckette and her team have created brilliant graphics that really help wine click for the beginner.

Good glassware: decent glassware is a must (sorry about the wine pun). That said, avoid buying a zillion kinds of different glasses for each grape variety or laying out the big bucks for the hand-blown crystal behemoths that will break if you even look at them. One glass in the beginning will cover most of your wine needs—the Riedel Vinum Zinfandel/Sangiovese glass. It is the perfect tasting/drinking glass. As you move on, you’ll want to add the Burgundy, Bordeaux, and Champagne glasses, also from Riedel’s Vinum line.

Get a Coravin: there are lots of wine accessories on the market. Most are useless, if not utter crap, or have a very limited function. The exception is the Coravin, easily the most brilliant wine accessory ever invented. Using a surgical-quality needle and a small cannister of argon gas, the Coravin allows you to tap into any bottle and take out as much wine as desired leaving the rest preserved for months. In short, it allows the student (or anyone else) to taste a wine repeatedly over time without compromising the rest of the contents in the bottle. The Coravin is the one thing I wished I would have had when studying for exams eons ago. It would have saved me thousands of dollars in wine purchases for tasting practice. 

Start a cellar: at some point you may be vinous-afflicted to the extent of buying more wine that you can possibly drink, at least in the near term. It happens. Know that there are lots of good sources on starting a cellar. Whether you dedicate a closet in your apartment or build a pricey shrine with fancy redwood racking, you absolutely must maintain the right conditions for the proper storage of wine: a constant temperature of between 55 and 60 degrees without any source of light or vibration. If you don’t, nature, as always, will bat last and your precious bottles will either age prematurely or completely oxidize. One further bit of practical advice: balance is key. If you do start a cellar, don’t fill it with collectible wine that needs to be aged or you’ll find yourself with nothing on hand to drink. Make sure at least 60% of the wine in your cellar is destined for early to mid-term enjoyment. You’ll thank me for that one.

Keep track of what you taste and drink: at the very least, use your phone to take photos of labels. It’s a good start. You can also take notes on your phone, your iPad, or—god forbid—actually write notes in a notebook. What a concept. An excellent tasting note template can be found in my last blog post (www.timgaiser.com/blog/on-tasting-notes).

Training: classes are good! Anyone can take the Master Sommelier Introductory Course. It’s two days of information-filled, fast-paced fun. I highly recommend it. However, beyond the Intro Course, the MS curriculum is geared specifically for those in the restaurant-hospitality industry—no matter how cool you think the sommelier thing is. If you’re not working on the restaurant floor, you should consider the WSET—the Wine and Spirits Education Trust. It’s an outstanding curriculum that’s available to anyone and some of the classes are available online.

Get in a tasting group: get into (or form) a tasting group. Working regularly with a group—even if it’s not formal--can really help improve your tasting skills. And if you don’t get overly nerdy serious about it, you can also have fun.

Find a good local retailer: the right retailer can be a valuable guide. They will quickly learn your palate, so to speak, and help steer you to wines that you will probably like. Equally valuable, they can also suggest new wines you wouldn’t necessarily know about much less try. Above all, a good retailer acts as a filter and will only recommend wines they can guarantee thereby saving you a great deal of time and money.

Good online resources: once past the basics, I recommend the following for keeping up with the ever-changing world of wine: www.guildsomm.com, www.decanter.com, www.wineanorak.com, and www.jancisrobinson.com.

Travel: as you delve deeper into the wine universe, trips to wine places are wonderful. There is no replacing tasting—and drinking—wines in their place of origin. That especially goes for the likes of German Riesling, Burgundy, and Sherry.

Numerical scores: take any publications that use numerical scores with at least a grain of salt. Numbers, specifically the 100-point scoring system, presuppose a precision in wine that has never existed--and never will. I think the 100-point system is the wine industry’s true unicorn. It’s a delightful hallucination that’s been around for so long and used by so many people that everyone thinks it’s actually real. Sound familiar? I must again remind you once again that wine is NOT easy. To think that a number can convey meaning in the context of tasting a wine is nothing short of fantasy.

Coda

Have patience when starting down the wine path. Prepare to be educated—and for the education to take some time. Try to avoid becoming compulsive about the whole thing. It will only annoy everyone in your life and might affect your socialization. Is the journey worth it? Absolutely! For god’s sake, this is not widgets we’re talking about. It’s wine, one of mankind’s greatest achievements. There is nothing better than sharing a glass of vino and a meal with friends and family. It’s one of the greatest gifts we have.
​
Cheers!

Tasting notes. They’re a blessing or a curse depending on your viewpoint. If you’re in the business, they’re a necessity. For industry pros, a tasting note is a multi-layered memory device. It’s an attempt to record impressions of a wine in the moment and usually on the fly. For collectors, a favorable tasting note paired with a high numerical score can be the make or break in any important (and usually expensive) wine purchase decision. However, there’s also a dark side to tasting notes, so to speak. Many consumers find the florid language used in some notes off-putting at best and completely alien at worst. In fact, critics call bullshit early and often on descriptors used by certain well-known writers in their tasting notes.

One of the challenges in writing a meaningful tasting note is being able to separate one’s technical assessment of a given wine from emotional response. But the problem runs much deeper. Wine as an idiom has no inherent language. To compensate, we as an industry have over time shamelessly—and largely unconsciously—begged, borrowed, and mugged terms and nomenclature from other completely unrelated fields. The result is a messy pastiche of terminology with some parts based on cold science and others on poetry and whimsy. It’s like Hello Kitty trying to play free form jazz in a cold, unlit industrial lab.

Part of the language issue stems from the fact that anyone’s reaction to a wine always involves both objective and subjective experience. Few people have the awareness much less the training to separate the two. In an effort to create meaningful tasting notes, I’ll attempt to do just that.
​
Objective vs. Subjective in Wine

Last year I wrote a post on objective and subjective in wine (www.timgaiser.com/blog/objective-vs-subjective-in-tasting). The premise of the post is that too often we hear the phrase, “wine is all subjective,” which is simply not true. Certain elements in wine can be isolated, identified, and quantified through lab analysis. Those criteria are objective. Other elements in the wine experience are based on a taster’s unique and very personal life memories. These are subjective and will always be different for everyone.

Why is objective-subjective so important in the context of writing tasting notes? Because the florid language some consider the bane of notes is directly linked to the subjective aspects of wine. Personally, I believe the subjective in wine is not only relevant—it’s important. Aside from all the technical information, it’s the one part of a tasting note that allows a taster’s unique voice to shine through.

I have a proposed tasting note template of sorts. However, before offering my template, it might be useful--not to mention curious--to examine tasting notes from various famous wine luminarios of the past and present.

Tasting Notes Through History

Like fashion, tasting notes have changed dramatically over the ages. Exhibit “A,” British novelist and author William Makepeace Thackrey:

“Wine gives great pleasure, and every pleasure is of itself a good.”

Thackrey (1811-1863) was known for his satirical works. His quote above provides little, if any, actual description of a wine, and simply—and poetically—tells us that wine is part of a good life. I couldn’t agree more.

“Food without wine is a corpse; wine without food is a ghost…”

Andre Simon

Simon (1877-1970) was a bibliophile, gourmet, wine connoisseur, historian, and writer. He was born in Paris and went to London in 1902 as the English agent for the champagne house of Pommery and Greno. Simon wrote over 100 books and pamphlets on wine and food. His knowledge of both was described as encyclopedic.

“Terms frequently used to describe a particular aroma or bouquet are rancio, foxy, and flor-sherry.”

Amerine & Roessler

Maynard A. Amerine was a professor of enology at the U.C. Davis and Edward B. Roessler a professor of mathematics. Their book, “Modern Sensory Methods of Evaluating Wine,” was a landmark work on the sensory analysis of wine. However, the quote above requires anyone to define the terms before having a clue what they could possibly smell like. Even the staunchest critic might wince just a bit.

“Fresh cut green grass, bell pepper, eucalyptus, mint.”

Anne Noble

Noble is a sensory chemist and retired professor also at U.C. Davis. During her tenure at the school’s department of viticulture and enology, she invented the “Aroma Wheel,” which has long been an influential learning tool for wine education. That said, I can already hear the critics beginning to gnash their teeth with the use of non-technical verbiage. After all, how can wine could possibly smell like other things?

And finally, Robert Parker:

“This Cote Rotie-like effort displays remarkable floral/lavender characteristics along with a dense purple color and an awesome bouquet of spring flowers, blueberries, blackberries and white chocolate. It hits the palate with a crescendo of intense, ripe, concentrated black fruits interwoven with barrique, charcoal and burning ember-like flavors. With staggering quality and full body as well as modest alcohol (14.2%) for a wine of such great ripeness, this riveting 2007 Syrah should provide immense pleasure over the next 15+ years. Don’t miss it!”

I had to include a Parker tasting note. This one is about a Washington State Syrah. Parker has long been a target of criticism for his writing. His notes, which are known for their voluptuous language, have actually been called soft core porn by detractors. In using descriptors like “awesome,” “staggering,” and “immense,” Parker has transformed the tasting experience into a full contact sensory sport. One might also conclude that a wine has to be staggering and immense to be good. And for the record, 14.2% is not modest alcohol. Ahem.

“The taste of alcohol counterbalances the taste of the acids.”

Emile Peynaud
​
Emile Peynaud (1912-2004) was--and still is--considered the Yoda of the winemaking world. His influence in teaching innumerable winemakers over many decades in the latter half of the 20th century can never be measured. Note his language here as completely technical. While straight forward for those of us in the industry, the description is not helpful to consumers.  

My Proposed Tasting Note Template

Back to square one. What’s needed for a useful tasting note? What form could a tasting note take that would include relevant information anyone in the industry and beyond can use (and hopefully understand), and yet at the same time allow the taster an opportunity to add their two cents? It’s a given that there will always be parts of any tasting note that are purely subjective vs. objective. Thus any template should provide an opportunity to record both. With that, here’s my proposed template. By no means is it written in stone. It’s meant as a point of departure. The intent is to create a straight forward yet concise form that enables one to consistently communicate about the delightful shared hallucination we call tasting wine.

I. The Basics

First, my template has a place to record the basics; what the wine looks, smells, and tastes like.

Visual: what color is the wine? There are different scales for wine color but practically any color can easily be understood by a reader. The clarity of the wine (or lack thereof) should also be noted.

Nose: includes descriptors of the fruit, fruit character or quality, other-than-fruit, earth-mineral, and the use of wood.

Palate: confirms what’s been already smelled and speaks to the structural aspects of the wine--acidity, alcohol, tannin, and phenolic bitterness—and can include one’s impression of the texture, balance, and finish of the wine.

Impact Compounds: highlights important compounds such as terpenes, Brett, and others which make certain wines typical in style. For example, carbonic maceration and stem inclusion in a Beaujolais Villages, or lees contact, ML, and oak usage in a Chardonnay.

II. Wine Profiles: Numbers with Meaning

Most everything listed above is commonly found in most tasting notes. The next segment of my proposal is definitely not—but it’s desperately needed. It’s a short profile that easily communicates the important information about a wine’s character and physical make up in terms of intensity, sweetness, the use of oak, and more.

All credit here goes to good friend and fellow Master, Peter Granoff. In the summer of 1994 Peter opened the cyber doors to Virtual Vineyards with his brother-in-law Robert Olson. Virtual Vineyards was not only the first online wine retail “shop,” but the very first online retailer of any kind. Peter and Robert literally started Virtual Vineyards on a server in Olson’s garage.
To avoid using numeric scores, Peter devised a system to convey the most important information about every wine that would appear in the Virtual Vineyards portfolio. His system used seven criteria to profile each wine: intensity of flavor, body, sweetness/dryness, acidity, tannin, oak, and complexity. Further, these seven criteria were represented in one-through-seven increments with one representing least/none and seven the most or maximum.

For example, with sweetness or dryness, Peter’s chart lists “bone dry” at one end with dessert sweet at the other. For intensity of flavor, the chart ranges from “delicate” at number one to “intense” at number seven.

Note Peter’s very conscious decision NOT to use a 1-10 scale simply because it would be too easy to extrapolate any number into a base 10 score—which he was trying to avoid at all costs. The results looked something like this:

Intensity of flavor - Delicate:  1    2     3     4      5        6    7     Intense

Sweetness/dryness - Bone dry: 1   2   3     4      5         6    7     Dessert 

Body - Light-bodied:  1       2      3      4      5       6       7          Full-bodied

Acid - Light acidity:   1       2     3       4     5        6       7           Tart acidity

Tannin - No tannin:   1       2     3       4     5        6       7           High tannin

Oak - No oak:          1       2     3       4     5         6      7     100% new oak

Complexity - simple: 1       2     3      4      5         6      7     Very complex

As mentioned, all the wines listed in the Virtual Vineyards portfolio were profiled with Peter’s tasting chart. In addition, tasting notes were added that included descriptors for the wine, some of which were quite subjective. Technical information was included, if available, and a bit about the winery. Suggested food pairings were often included as well.

I joined Peter at Virtual Vineyards in 1996 and worked with him for five years until the company’s tragic demise in April of 2001. It’s worth noting that Virtual Vineyards/the original wine.com sold over $50 million of wine in five years using Peter’s system--and without ever using a single numerical score.

III. Wrapping It Up: Thoughts, Impressions, and Opinions

The last segment of my template is a space for personal thoughts and opinions about the wine. The remarks could range from varietal typicity, winemaking, and vintage character to simply whether the taster either likes, loves, or loathes the wine. True this is also where things can easily get florid and messy in a heartbeat. But again, I believe it’s absolutely necessary for the taster to be able to record and share their personal impressions about any given wine.
​
Now for the template itself. I’ve formatted a document that provides ample opportunities for recording what’s technically in the glass, uses Peter’s profile, and includes a place for opinions, musings, and more. 

Coda

Tasting notes will always be a genteel battleground of sorts, where parties  quickly establish polar opposites in their wine writing philosophy. It’s yet another example of the beautiful imprecision of wine. Hopefully my template will help ease the conflict or at least create some constructive dialogue. And that is a wonderful thing indeed. Cheers!

Recently I had a lengthy phone conversation with a friend who’s not in the wine industry. During our chat he happened to mention how difficult it was to get a good bottle of wine in a restaurant. My reaction was somewhere between “no way,” and “seriously?” I was surprised given that he dines out regularly and knows more than a bit about wine. After a few more questions, it quickly became apparent that his comfort level with wine in restaurants simply wasn’t there; that dealing with a sommelier or a huge list was a major challenge. 

He’s not alone. Dealing with what I call “wine ballet” or the “being handed the wine list in front of my friends/colleagues/future ex-girlfriend” is a source of major stress for practically anyone. I wouldn’t quite put it up there with the fear of public speaking, which according to some sources is even greater than the fear of death (a tough audience, no doubt). Being put on the spot with a wine list the size of the Gutenberg Bible can definitely cause personal anxiety. No surprise that my friend didn’t believe me when I told him it was no big deal. So, I gave him my own strategy on how to get a good bottle from any wine list. Then I promised him I’d share it with all my closest friends. Here it is.

Prelude

There are some things you should know before you darken any restaurant’s door. These would include the following:

a. Know the style of wine you like to drink. Go into a restaurant armed with the knowledge that, “I like a red wine with soft tannins like Pinot Noir,” or “I really like big, oaky Cabernets that remind me of a monster truck pull.”

b. Also know what you don’t like, which is arguably more important than knowing what you do like. If you absolutely loathe oaky wines or break out in hives if the alcohol in a red wine is over 15%, be sure to share that information when appropriate.

c. Have a couple of examples of wines you’ve enjoyed in the past that can be used as points of reference. It will be useful to have some wines in mind that you’ve previously tasted that can be used in discussions with a server or a sommelier.

d. Price: know how much you want to spend on a bottle within $15-$20. Wine prices on restaurant lists can vary dramatically, but chances are you already have a good idea of how much your wine budget is on any given dining excursion. 

The Main Event

Now you’re ready to go. You’ve just entered the restaurant with the man/woman of your dreams. When the hostess races you both across the dining room, seats you next to the kitchen, and gives you one of those “adios amigo” smiles before racing off leaving the glassware on the table spinning, don’t panic. Keep breathing. Feel good. Feel confident. It’s going to be alright.

a. The wine list: as you pick up the wine list head to any section and check out the pricing. Spot the highest price you can find and the lowest price as well. Drag those to your mental trash bin and discard.

b. Find the average price: get a quick eyeball average of where most of the wines are priced. The average bottle price could be anywhere between $40 and $150 depending on the location and style of the restaurant. After all, there’s a huge difference between a corner bistro and The French Laundry in terms of the cost of operations, infrastructure, and the rest. You should know that restaurants do NOT make money by selling food alone, but only manage to survive and hopefully thrive by the selling alcoholic beverages. 

c. Find the sweet spot: set your sights on the 50-60% price range of the restaurant’s pricing scheme. That’s usually where the best values are and that, mein liebchen, is your sweet spot. 

d. Your server: when your server arrives and asks if you’d like wine with dinner, smile and say something like the following:

“You know, this is a really good list. I’d like to talk to the sommelier or the wine buyer if they’re available.”

e. If the sommelier or buyer is available, that’s great. Hopefully they will be available to chat in short order. Once they make an appearance at your table, be sure to relay the above pertinent information to them as in the following:

1)  “This is the style of wine I really like.”

2) “I really don’t like XX kind of wine.”

3) “Here are some wines I’ve enjoyed in the past. What do you have that’s similar?”

f. Pricing: give them a price range to work with as in, “I’d like to spend $50-$60 on a bottle,” or “please suggest a wine you really like for under $75.” Be specific about your price range--but also keep in mind that part of their job is to SELL. That means they will probably start in your price range and then suggest something a bit more expensive. Don’t be put off. If their suggestion makes sense in terms of your personal favorite wine style and it’s still within your budget, consider it. However, if their suggestion is hideously expensive (meaning they either didn’t listen to you or they’re clueless), respond politely with something like:

 “You know, that’s really not what I had in mind. Could you please make a recommendation in the XX price range?”  

Likewise, if their suggestion is completely obscure don’t hesitate to ask about the wine. Pacherenc du Vic-Bihl, anyone? Good questions to ask about any recommendation would include the sweetness/dryness level for any style of wine, or the amount of tannin and oak if it’s a red wine recommendation. Ultimately, ask yourself if their suggestion fits your favorite personal wine profile. If not, don’t hesitate to ask for something closer in style such as a wine with less tannin, oak, or cosmetic flaws.

7. Discourse: a bit of back and forth is always good. The magic combination of your likes, dislikes, and desired price range should be more than enough for practically anyone to help you get a delicious bottle.

Coda: Magic Questions

If in doubt, ask the following questions. You can always feel free to skip everything above and head straight to these.

“What are your favorite VALUES on the list?”

“Is there anything you’ve just gotten in that you really like and think is a must try?”

“Is there anything you’re pouring by the glass that you really like and think is a great value?”

If you’re speaking to the buyer/sommelier, chances are they will get dangerously excited at this point--or they should be checked for a pulse. This is the moment every sommelier/buyer dreams about, the moment when someone is asking their opinion about the coolest wines on the list that they have toiled countless hours to put together. What more could they want? Odds are they will blurt out the best/coolest/ greatest/most amazing wine within nano-seconds of the question leaving your mouth. They may even get all verklempt on you. This is how it should be. If the wine is being poured by the glass, by all means ask to taste it. Otherwise, if the price is right, give it a spin. And if you really like their recommendation, be sure to let her or him know it and even throw a bit of cash their way. It’s always greatly appreciated.

​Cheers!

The first time I ever paid for a professional tasting was in the summer of 1987. It was at Singer & Foy, a now-defunct retailer then located just off Washington Square in North Beach in the city. The tasting listed in their mailer that day was, if you can believe it, several recent vintages of Premier and Grand Cru Chablis from Domaine Francois Raveneau. Mind you, this was long before the brilliant wines from Raveneau attained cult status and became all but unobtainable. 
 
I walked into the shop, the only customer at the time, and was greeted by owner Steven Singer. I told him I wanted to taste the Raveneau and he smiled knowingly as if I had just uttered a password and gained entrance into some kind of secret club. Little did I know. After sitting down, Steven set out ten glasses in front of me and began to pour wines from almost identical bottles replete with hard yellow wax capsules--the same yellow wax capsules knowingly loved and hated by sommeliers the world over (because they’re impossible and very messy to remove). After that, he left me in silence with the wines and my note pad. 
 
To this point, my experience of Chardonnay was limited to the new world, primarily California. I had never tasted a good much less great Chablis. But I clearly remember picking up the first glass, raising it to my nose, and frowning in that serious “I know what I’m doing” kind of way that all wine geeks love to sport. The first sniff of the wine revealed a series of aromas that were more than a bit alien to me. Not much in the way of fruit compared to the California Chardonnays I was used to. I then took the first sip and the experience was like a combination of loud feedback on a public PA system and eating several whole lemons in rapid succession. It wasn’t painful. No, I lied, it was physiologically uncomfortable to the point of pain--but in a very enlightened way, if that’s possible. The first sip of what was the 1979 Montée de Tonnerre​ was like someone had plugged a home electric appliance into my palate (waffle iron?) and flicked the juice on with the expected results.
 
Nothing remotely similar had ever come across my vinous radar. Here was a wine that was immensely powerful, bare bones dry, and painfully acidic. In comparison, the Chardonnays of my previous experience were like going to a church social as a kid. Some of them had big hair, others wore lots of jewelry, while still others wore an alarming amount of perfume. All of them wore lots of makeup. The Raveneau wine was different; we were no longer in Kansas but somewhere closer to the Dog Star.

At that point I put the glass down and looked at the other nine wines realizing that I was really in for it. But being of very stubborn German and Irish stock, I took a deep breath and resolved to get through the flight and even more, to somehow make sense of it. I had, after all, paid my $15 (!). Somewhere around the sixth or seventh glass, I had two of my first wine epiphanies in short order. First, that it was possible to come across a wine that was perfectly well made but that you strongly disliked. Second, and more important, some wines simply didn’t care if you like them or not. It was precisely at this moment that I dubbed the flight of Raveneau Chablis “Dominatrix Wines.” They truly didn’t care if I liked them or not. They also were completely unapologetic for their character. And they definitely would not be calling me in the morning. 
 
Fast forward twenty years: I’m teaching a Master Sommelier Introductory Course in New Orleans for a group from the CMAA, the Club Manager’s Association of America. The attendees were mostly middle-aged men who managed highly successful golf clubs across the country. I was leading the group through a blind tasting of four wines. The second white wine of the flight was a recent vintage of Domaine des Baumard Savennières, a dry, mineral-drive Chenin Blanc from the Loire Valley. We worked through the wine using the MS deductive tasting grid as our guide. Going through the nose, the group had problems finding much of anything. Some remarked that the wine was corked (it was not) while others said that it smelled musty. Then they tasted it. In moments I was standing in front of 80 adults all experiencing gustatory melt down. Practically everyone spit the wine out immediately and looked at me with an expression somewhere between wince and grimace (two of the evil dwarves). It was the same expression your kid gives you when you take them to the pediatrician and the nurses sneak up behind them and give them a shot in each arm--at the same time. I think the expression is called “betrayal.” 
 
It goes without saying that the group positively hated the wine and strongly voiced their objection. I attempted to counter saying it was more than possible to come across a good—even great—wine that one wouldn’t like, and how important context was in any tasting experience. I also told the group that the Baumard was the most expensive—and probably the most complex—white wine they would taste during the two days of the class. They didn’t buy it--and were definitely not amused. Fortunately, I escaped unharmed.  

Chablis and Savennières are not the only two dominatrix wines. There’s actually a smallish universe of wines, both white and red, that qualify for dominatrix status. Here are a few more.

a. Barolo and Barbaresco: or anything remotely connected to the Nebbiolo grape. So pale and delicate in color but one sip and it can be like Rottweiler in a glass as in shockingly tannic, acidic, and bone dry. If you’re hanging out late at night watching Dancing with the Stars and want that last glass of red, this is definitely not it. But make no mistake, Barolo and Barbaresco are two of the world’s greatest red wines. To me, they’re quintessential cold weather reds to retrieve from the cellar and match with the best braises, stews, and game. Even live game. Just kidding. 

b. Sercial Madeira: balance searing acidity barely with the meagerest “may I have some more gruel” bit of residual sugar and you have Sercial. Madeira could even be the ultimate restaurant wine by the glass because the wines are indestructible. After all, they’ve been cooked, oxidized, and fortified. You could probably run them down your driveway and then retrieve them just in time for the cheese course. 

c. Aged Palo Cortado and Amontillado Sherries: think all Sherries are sweet and the domain of geriatrics? Think again. There’s no more vinous, intense, and bone-dry fortified wine than a good aged Palo Cortado or Amontillado. 
 
Coda
 
Our smell and taste preferences can change dramatically as we get older. Most of us move on from the simply sweet of youth to the delightful trio of sour, savory, and salty—three more of the evil dwarves, if you will. Add bitter to that trio and you’ll understand my fondness for Fernet Branca. But that’s another story. How do I feel about Raveneau Chablis now? I’m a huge fan. I think it’s one of the greatest white wines made anywhere. Period. I’ve come to absolutely love the Raveneau wines to the point of coveting them. And if anyone reading this would like to send me a few bottles or a case, I’m sure they would be blessed for several generations. I promise. 

In blind tasting practice and exams there are two sets of grapes that consistently give students nightmares. I call them the “Evil Dwarves.” Each set is populated by grapes easily confused for one other. The first set is made up of semi-aromatic white grapes including Albariño, Grüner Veltliner, Loire Chenin Blanc, Alsace Pinot Gris, Northern Italian Pinot Grigio, and dry Riesling from Alsace or Germany. The other set is comprised of thinner-skinner red grapes such as Pinot Noir, Gamay, Sangiovese, Tempranillo, and Grenache.  

One would think that it wouldn't be that difficult to tell the various grapes/wines apart. But stop for a moment and think about how similar the fruit qualities are for all the grapes within each set. Add to that the fact that within each group the colors of all the wines can be remarkably similar. Thus, if a student is keying off color and fruit trying to tell the grapes apart it will be an endless nightmare. 

But there is good news in that practically all the grapes have a strong signature in terms of impact compounds such as botrytis, TDN, or phenolic bitterness. Combine these impact compounds with the unique structural profiles of any of the wines (levels of acidity, alcohol, and in the case of red wines tannins) and you have a blueprint to be able to tell classic examples of any of the grapes/wines apart. And that’s a very good thing. So without further ado, here’s a road map to help identify the Evil Dwarves and tell them apart from their brethren. Onward!

Part I: Semi-Aromatic White Grapes

Albariño

Look for: floral (terpenes), ripe-tart fruit, lees contact, stony mineral notes, and no oak

Structure: medium to medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus to high acidity, and phenolic bitterness

Why it’s not:

Grüner Veltliner: Albariño lacks the white pepper or vegetal qualities found in Grüner Veltliner. Smaragd Grüner will also always be a much richer wine than Albariño along with the pepper/vegetal qualities and botrytis notes.

Loire Chenin Blanc: Chenin Blanc, even when dry, often shows botrytis notes and green olive/green herb character as well as pronounced chalky minerality. Structurally Chenin has medium-plus alcohol and high acidity. It also lacks the overt terpenic qualities of Albariño.

Alsace Pinot Gris: Albariño lacks the botrytis notes and phenolic bitterness found in Pinot Gris. Structurally, Pinot Gris has higher alcohol, lower acidity, and often displays residual sugar.

Northern Italian Pinot Grigio: in weight and structure Albariño and Alto Adige Pinot Grigio can be similar, but Pinot Grigio is less terpenic and usually shows wet stone minerality and phenolic bitterness on the finish.

Riesling: the lack of TDN (petrol/fusel/kerosene notes) in Riesling sets it apart from Albariño. Alsace Riesling—especially Grand Cru quality—and German Grosses Gewächs Riesling also tend to be much richer wines with slightly higher alcohol and higher acidity. Finally, the fruit profile in Riesling is also much broader than Albariño with botrytis notes sometimes found in the former even in dry wines.

Grüner Veltliner
​
Look for: pepper (rotundone), herbal-vegetal notes, stony mineral, and used or no oak

Structure: medium to high alcohol, medium-plus to high acidity, and phenolic bitterness

Considerations: ripeness levels as applied to the Wachau classification (Steinfeder, Federspiel, and Smaragd) or reserve wines from other regions

Why it’s not:

Albariño: pepper/vegetal notes and less overt terpenes.

Loire Chenin Blanc: Chenin will usually be a richer wine with less overt terpenes, chalky minerality, and possible sulfur notes.

Alsace Pinot Gris: no rotundone in Pinot Gris. It will usually be a richer wine with lower acidity, phenolic bitterness, residual sugar, and the possibility of botrytis character. 

Northern Italian Pinot Grigio: can be similar in weight and structure to some lighter Grüner Veltliners but again lacks the pepper/vegetal qualities. Pinot Grigio will also have less phenolic bitterness on the finish.

Riesling: it’s pepper/vegetal qualities of Grüner Veltliner vs. the TDN and possible botrytis notes of Riesling.

Loire Chenin Blanc

Look for: floral (terpenes), possible botrytis character (even in dry wines), chamomile-botanical-herb, chalky minerality, and used or no oak

Structure: medium-to-medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus to high acidity, and phenolic bitterness

Why it’s not:

Albariño: the terpenes set Albariño apart from Chenin.

Grüner Veltliner: Chenin completely lacks the rotundone character found in Grüner Veltliner.

Alsace Pinot Gris: both can show botrytis notes but Pinot Gris will offer more phenolic bitterness and residual sugar on the finish, and have relatively lower acidity.

Northern Italian Pinot Grigio: Loire Chenin will be a richer wine showing chalky minerality and possible sulfur notes.

Riesling: both can show botrytis character but Chenin lacks the TDN of Riesling.

Alsace Pinot Gris

Look for: floral (terpenes), possible botrytis character, mushroom-earth-mineral notes, used or no oak, and possible off dry to slightly sweet in style

Structure: medium-plus to high alcohol, medium to medium-plus acidity, and considerable phenolic bitterness

Considerations: AC vs. grand cru wines

Why it’s not:

Albariño: Albariño generally is a lighter wine than Pinot Gris with higher acidity, lack of botrytis notes, and lack of residual sugar on the finish. 

Grüner Veltliner: while it can match the weight and richness of a Smaragd Grüner Veltliner, Pinot Gris will  lack rotundone pepper qualities.

Loire Chenin Blanc: both grapes can show botrytis character but Chenin will often show the sulfur/herbal notes, pronounced chalky minerality, and have higher acidity and phenolic bitterness.

Northern Italian Pinot Grigio: will be a much lighter wine than Pinot Gris from Alsace. Pinot Grigio will also lack any botrytis notes and will be a dry wine.

Riesling: Alsace Pinot Gris can easily match the weight and richness of Riesling from the same region not to mention Riesling from Germany or Austria. However, Pinot Gris lacks the acidity and TDN qualities of Riesling and will also show phenolic bitterness on the finish.

Northern Italian Pinot Grigio

Look for: white floral (terpenes), lees contact, stony mineral, and no oak

Structure: medium alcohol, medium-plus acidity, and phenolic bitterness

Why it’s not:

Albariño: both grapes can be similar in weight and texture but Pinot Grigio is a more narrowly defined--almost neutral--grape/wine by comparison. Pinot Grigio is also not quite as terpenic as Albariño.

Grüner Veltliner: Pinot Grigio lacks the pepper/vegetal qualities of Grüner.

Loire Chenin Blanc: Pinot Grigio is generally a lighter-bodied wine compared to Loire Chenin. Classic Pinot Grigio will also not show botrytis character and will less acidity.

Alsace Pinot Gris: Alto Adige Pinot Grigio is a scaled down version of its Alsace cousin but with higher acidity, more restrained alcohol, and no residual sugar.

Riesling:  Pinot Grigio lacks any TDN qualities found in Riesling not to mention possible botrytis character. 

Riesling

Look for: floral (terpenes), fusel-petrol (TDN), possible lees contact, slate/mineral qualities, no oak

Structure: low to medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus to high acidity, and possible phenolic bitterness, especially in dry wines

Why it’s not:

Albariño: TDN, possible wider fruit profile, and higher acidity set Riesling apart from Albariño.

Grüner Veltliner: it’s the rotundone pepper/vegetal in Grüner vs. the TDN in Riesling.

Loire Chenin Blanc: although both can show botrytis notes, the chalky minerality and lack of TDN set Chenin apart from Riesling.

Alsace Pinot Gris: both can again show botrytis character but Riesling will often display TDN and have higher acidity.

Northern Italian Pinot Grigio: TDN, more complexity, and higher acidity will set Riesling apart from Pinot Grigio.

Part II: Thinner-Skinned Red Grapes

As with the white grapes in the first set, the color and fruit qualities of thinner-skinned red grapes can be similar making them difficult to tell apart. Again, practically all display unique signatures from impact compounds that can be an important aid in identifying the grape/wine. Add the unique set of structural qualities (levels of acid, alcohol, and tannin) found in each grape and you have a blueprint to be able to tell classic examples of any of the wines apart. For our purposes, we’ll use the following wines as models for their respective grapes:
​

• Pinot Noir: Côte de Nuits/Beaune or California/Oregon New World
• Gamay: Beaujolais Villages
• Sangiovese: Chianti Classico Riserva or Brunello di Montalcino
• Tempranillo: Rioja Reserva or Gran Reserva
• Grenache/blend: Châteauneuf-du-Pape or Gigondas
• Nebbiolo: Barolo or Barbaresco

 
Pinot Noir

Old world – Burgundy: red fruits, rose-floral, tea-herb, possible green stem quality (stem inclusion), possible Brettanomyces, soil-mineral-game, and oak usage

Structure: medium to medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus acidity, and medium to medium-plus tannin

Considerations: AC vs. Premier Cru vs. Grand Cru wines in regards to oak usage and price

New world: fruit-dominant (primarily red), floral-herbal notes, possible earth-mineral, and oak usage

Structure: medium to medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus acidity, and medium to medium-plus tannin

Why it’s not:

Gamay: Pinot Noir usually lacks the candied/artificial fruit character from carbonic maceration as well as granite/stony minerality. Pinot Noir also commonly offers new oak.

Sangiovese: Pinot Noir lacks the tannin of Sangiovese—specifically grape tannin often perceived in the front of the mouth on teeth and gums. Sangiovese also has higher acidity as well as anise-bitter herbal flavors.

Tempranillo: extended aging in American Oak (coconut, dill, herb, pronounced vanilla, and baking spices) sets classic Tempranillo-based Rioja apart from Pinot Noir.

Grenache: riper alcohol and higher tannins set Grenache-based blends apart from Pinot Noir. Pinot Noir also lacks the peppery-rotundone and savory herb/garrigue qualities of Grenache. Larger cooperage is also traditionally used for a Grenache/blend vs. smaller barrique in Pinot Noir.

Nebbiolo the tannin and acid levels in Nebbiolo are far higher than in Pinot Noir. 

Gamay

Look for: candied, confected red fruits from carbonic maceration, green stemmy quality from stem inclusion, stony-earth, and little or no oak

Structure: medium alcohol, medium-plus acidity, and medium-minus to medium tannin
​
Considerations: villages vs. cru wines with more carbonic character in the former
 
Why it’s not:

Pinot Noir:  carbonic character in Beaujolais Villages sets it apart from Pinot, whether from Burgundy or the New World. Beaujolais will also lack the overt oak character often found in Pinot Noir.

Sangiovese: carbonic notes again differentiate Gamay from Sangiovese with the latter also having more tannin. No stem inclusion notes for Sangiovese.

Tempranillo: carbonic notes and lack of overt oak influence—specifically American Oak influence.

Grenache: lack of carbonic notes in classic Grenache blends with the latter also having more non-fruit complexity (pepper, dried floral, garrigue/herbs, savory qualities). Structurally, Grenache has higher alcohol and more tannin without pronounced stem inclusion.

Nebbiolo: has higher levels of alcohol, tannin, and acidity compared to Gamay as well as an oxidative character and completely different fruit/non-fruit set. Again, no carbonic character and stem inclusion.

Sangiovese

Look for: tart red fruit with darker fruits in wines from riper vintages or those containing Cabernet family grapes; tomato-green herb, anise, sandalwood, chalk-mineral-earth, and oak usage – large cooperage or barrique

Structure: medium to medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus to high acidity, and medium-plus tannin

Considerations: degree of oak influence as far as barriques vs. larger barrels

Why it’s not:

Pinot Noir: more grape tannin in Sangiovese as well as higher acidity and more of an anise/herbal character.

Gamay: lack of carbonic artificial fruit character in Sangiovese as well as a higher level of tannin.

Tempranillo: the oxidative style and American Oak set Tempranillo apart from any form of Sangiovese. The latter is usually more tannic as well.

Grenache: lack of pepper/rotundone character in Sangiovese. Grenache blends also offer a higher level of alcohol with relatively less acidity.

Nebbiolo: Sangiovese vs. Nebbiolo is one of the more challenging side-by-side comparisons. There are many similarities between the two but in the end Nebbiolo in the form of Barolo and/or Barbaresco is usually more tannic and acidic as well as offering floral and high-toned aromatics.

Tempranillo

Look for: dried dark, red, and raisinated fruits, dried floral-potpourri, dried herb, dust-soil-terra cotta, considerable oak American oak usage, and oxidative character

Structure: medium to medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus acidity, and medium to medium-plus tannin

Why it’s not:

Pinot Noir: oxidative winemaking-aging and American Oak set Tempranillo apart from Pinot Noir regardless of origin. 

Gamay: no carbonic character or stem inclusion in Tempranillo. Oxidative style and American Oak in the Rioja.

Sangiovese: oxidative style and American Oak. Sangiovese is usually more tannic as well.

Grenache: although some styles of Grenache blends may show oxidation similar to Tempranillo with age, the wines will never display the American Oak character. Grenache blends will also offer more alcohol as well as pepper and Mediterranean herb (garrigue) notes.  

Nebbiolo: American Oak is rarely, if ever, found in Barolo and Barbaresco. The latter two will also be far more tannic and acidic than Tempranillo.
 
Grenache and Grenache Blends

Look for: range of dark, red, and raisinated fruits; pepper (rotundone), savory herb (garrigue), sanguine notes (roasted meat, blood, iodine), pronounced earth-mineral, and oak usage (large cooperage)

Structure: high alcohol, medium-plus acidity, and medium-plus to high tannin

Why it’s not:

Pinot Noir: too much richness, alcohol, and tannin on the part of Grenache.  The peppery and herbal qualities in Grenache/blends also sets the wines apart from Pinot Noir.

Gamay: unless it’s basic Côtes du Rhône, use of carbonic is very infrequent for Grenache blends; thus the artificial fruit qualities of Gamay set it apart from the latter. Grenache will also offer more richness, higher alcohol, and pepper/herb notes.

Sangiovese: Grenache is richer with higher alcohol and peppery qualities than Sangiovese. Sangiovese will often have more grape tannin in the front of the mouth as well.

Tempranillo: Grenache/blends lack the American Oak character of traditionally made Tempranillo-based wines.

Nebbiolo: more acid and tannin (most notably grape tannin) in the Nebbiolo.

Nebbiolo

Look for: ripe-dried red and dark fruits, pronounced rose-floral, dried herb, mushroom-earth-tar, and oak usage–large cooperage or barrique

Structure: medium-plus to high alcohol, medium-plus to high acidity, and high tannin

Why it’s not:

Pinot Noir: Nebbiolo is usually far too tannic and acidic to be Pinot Noir. 

Gamay: ditto the above about tannin and acidity. Note that Nebbiolo rarely, if ever, shows carbonic notes. Finally, Nebbiolo often shows considerable oak influence.

Sangiovese: as mentioned above, Sangiovese—especially Brunello—can often be confused with Nebbiolo. Generally, the latter will have higher levels of acidity, tannin, and alcohol. Nebbiolo usually displays more floral and high-toned aromatics than Sangiovese.

Tempranillo: too much tannin and acidity in Nebbiolo to be confused for Tempranillo. American Oak in the former also makes it easy to differentiate from Nebbiolo.

Grenache: Nebbiolo offers higher levels of acidity and tannin than Grenache as well as more floral and high-toned aromatics.

Summer 1976 and the Paris Tasting. The repeal of prohibition was just 43 years before. Dry table wines had only been outselling fortified sweet jug wines in the U.S. since 1968. For most Americans, fine wine—and fine dining for that matter--was about as remote as the Dog Star. The very thought that California wines could ever share the stage with top French bottlings seemed to be fantasy. The tasting changed everything, with California wines judged superior to Grand Cru Burgundy and classified growth Bordeaux by a panel of French judges. The results sent shock waves through the industry--and far beyond.

I was an undergrad studying music at the University of New Mexico at the time. I clearly remember the tasting making national news (all four channels!) as well as the cover of Time Magazine. Even then I knew that for whatever reason, it was a huge deal.

At this seminal moment, writer Robert Benson wanted to find out more about the state of the California wine industry post-Paris tasting. From 1976 to early 1977 he interviewed several dozens of the state’s top winemakers. The result was his book, Great Winemakers of California. Published in the fall of 1977, Great Winemakers is the most accurate snapshot of the California industry in the ‘70’s I’ve ever found. Benson’s interviewees were essentially a list of the who’s who of California wine at the time: Andre Tchelistcheff, Paul Draper, Joe Heitz, Robert Mondavi, the legendary Martin Ray just months before his passing, and over 30 more.

Benson’s book is delightfully informative. He conducted all the interviews in person and later transcribed them. Interview questions ranged from general industry topics to the nuts and bolts of winemaking including brix levels, fermentation regimens, fining and filtration techniques, and laws concerning place names and varietal labeling.

In reading the interviews, I was struck by how distinct each individual was—not to mention their wines. Many came to the industry from completely unrelated fields and were amateurs learning on the job. Others, and Joe Heitz of Heitz Wine Cellars immediately comes to mind, had enology degrees, extensive training, and experience at multiple wineries. Regardless, all possessed what can only be called a pioneer-like spirit and the drive to make their respective wines the very best, while trying to establish the reputation of the California industry as world class. Here are some of the most notable topics from the interviews as well as memorable quotes. I hope you find them as fascinating as I did.

Climate vs. soil: many interviewed said that climate played a far more important role in quality wine than soil or location. However, one notable outlier was Dick Graff of Chalone, who said, “The whole idea of soil vs. climate in California was decided in favor of climate many years ago by professors Amerine and Winkler (U.C. Davis) for the simple reason that the factor of climate produces differences in grapes which are measurable in the laboratory. Now when you go to Europe, it’s universally agreed, from centuries of experience, that soil is very important and ours is about the only limestone deposit in a place that’s arable and has the right climate for grapes.”

Big vs small wineries and quality: depending on who was being asked, both small and large wineries had the potential to make top quality wine. Rick Forman, then winemaker at Sterling Vineyards, was convinced that smaller was better saying, “Some very good wines can be made in quantity. But wines of style, of breed and character, can only be made by hand in small batches.” However, the venerable Robert Mondavi believed just the opposite. Ever the politician, Mondavi was quoted, “I’d say that 95% of the time the finest wines are made by the smaller wineries. But there are exceptions to the rules. I’ve concluded you can produce wines in reasonable quantities that are equal to those of the smallest producer. If you have climate, soil, grape varieties grown in the proper location, and you add dedication, desire, the will to train your people, and the proper facilities, you can duplicate what the smallest producers can do.”

Varietal percentage law: at the time of the book’s release, federal law required that varietal wines only contain a minimum of 51% of the grape stated on the bottle. Shocking, but true. The rest could be anything else available. Some thought the law fine as it was. Others wanted the minimum percentage raised to at least 60%, if not 75% percent. Martin Ray’s wines were 100% varietal. No surprise that he was quick to say, “I think it should be thrown out, for god’s sake!” Karl Wente of Wente Vineyards was a little more forgiving saying, “I’d like to see it go to 60%. I like the opportunity for a little blending with the Grey Riesling, Pinot Noir, and sometimes the Petite Sirah.” If not familiar, Wente’s Grey Riesling (Trousseau Gris) was one of the most popular white wines in the U.S. at the time.

Vintage dating and Christian Brothers. One of the interviewees was Brother Timothy of Christian Brothers, who had been working at the winery since 1928—almost 50 years at the time of the book’s release. With multiple winemaking facilities in Napa and beyond, Christian Brothers was easily the largest winery of any included in the book at well over a million cases per annual production. Brother Timothy strongly believed that quality wine could be made on a mass scale. Also—and this is striking—that blending vintages to achieve a consistent “product” as he called it, was far superior to vintage-dated wines.

Use of centrifuge: proved to be a controversial topic. Those that could afford them used them, and proclaimed their superiority in clarifying must before fermentation or the wine before bottling. Richard Arrowood of Chateau St. Jean in Sonoma said, “Let me tell you the reason most people don’t have centrifuges: they are terribly expensive. But the improved quality of the finished product justifies the expense for us.” On the flip side, smaller wineries without the capital or space were against their use, citing that they stripped the must/wine of important solids and character. To point, when asked if he used centrifuges in the winery, Warren Winiarski of Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars said, “No. I don’t know if I’d use one either. I’m not sufficiently impressed that it improves white wines.”

Cultured yeast only: cultured yeast was universally used. Natural ferments were viewed somewhere between mysterious and an anathema to be avoided at all costs.

Use of European place names: a topic of great controversy. Practically every winery included in the book had a lower tier cash-flow line of wines labeled Chablis, Burgundy, Claret, or the like. Most accepted it as the norm. Joe Heitz of Heitz Wine Cellars strongly defended the practice of using place names saying: “The American Indians didn’t start bottling Burgundy. It was Frenchmen, Spaniards, and Germans who came to this country. They brought their cuttings from home, and said, ‘Ah, we’re in California now, this is California Burgundy, or this is Rhine wine.’ It was a natural transition; we didn’t suddenly become a civilized nation and decide to go into the wine business by stealing European place names.” Others condemned the practice of using European names including Andre Tchelistcheff of Beaulieu Vineyards who said, “It is very false for us to steal the appellations of Europe. I accepted it with the bleeding of my heart, but it was a necessity, a compromise I accepted with tears.”

Hand vs. mechanical harvesting: at the time of the book’s release, mechanical harvesting was anything but common practice. And the quality of the machines was definitely not what it is today. However, Donald Alexander of Mirassou Vineyards was convinced of their use saying, “Mechanical harvesting has to be better than picking by hand. We capture the flavor by crushing right in the field.” Martin Ray completely disagreed saying, "Unless your land is level, there is no equipment to take care of it. Anyway, you can't ever get satisfactory results with mechanical picking of the grapes." 

Variety of grapes planted: one of things that becomes quickly apparent in Benson’s book is the number and variety of grapes planted. Varietal bottlings of Colombard, Grey Riesling, Riesling, Gewurztraminer, Pinot Blanc, Pinot St. George, Barbera, and Alicante Bouchet were regularly available in tasting rooms—in Napa Valley. Phylloxera would soon change that. More on that below.

The Paris Tasting: without exception, everyone expressed excitement about the results of the tasting. Benson’s final question in every interview asked if California wines were better than their European counterparts. Most said an emphatic “yes” with the few outliers—citing Burgundian varieties like Chardonnay and Pinot Noir—saying, “close but not yet.”

​The diminutive giant: though many of Benson’s questions were topics of debate, no one argued the monumental importance of Andre Tchelistcheff. Many of those who contributed to the book either worked directly with him or used him as a consultant not to mention as a source of knowledge and experience. Everyone, without exception, praised him to the heavens. No mystery that Tchelistcheff’s interview is by far my favorite in the book. Andre’s depth of knowledge about Napa Valley was remarkable—far beyond anyone else at the time. When asked a simple question about planting appropriate varieties in specific places in the valley, he responded with a lengthy tutorial on the Napa Valley’s micro climates and soil types, citing the most appropriate rootstocks and grape varieties for each. His knowledge of winemaking techniques for various styles of wine was also unmatched.

Quick story: I once had a chance to meet Andre—but didn’t. In 1988 I was at a trade tasting at the Mark Hopkins Hotel in the city. I saw the diminutive Tchelistcheff (not much over five feet tall) with a group of people and felt the urge to go over, say hi, and introduce myself. But I was a mere bartender at the time and let the moment pass. I’ve always regretted it.

The World Changed

My first trip to Napa Valley was in the summer of 1983, about six months before Carla and I moved to California. Highway 29 was lined with wineries whose labels I’d seen on wine lists the previous two years while working in restaurants in Ann Arbor during grad school. The valley and its wines seemed brimming with life, potential, and possibility. Then came phylloxera and everything changed. In the span of a decade most of the vineyards in Northern California were decimated and had to be replanted to the cost of $20,000 or more an acre. Many smaller vineyard and winery owners simply couldn’t afford to replant and quietly sold their properties and faded into oblivion.

Replanting also changed varietal demographics and overall wine character of the valley dramatically—forever. The combination of high cost of land (yes, even then) and expense of replanting practically forced most owners to choose grapes that were not only in high market demand, but would also would fetch the highest possible tonnage prices. In other words, Chardonnay, Cabernet, and Merlot. But perhaps the greatest impact of this mass replanting--and something rarely spoken or written about--was that the plant material completely changed. New low vigor native rootstocks and different clones replaced what had come before, most notably the move away from using the AXR1 rootstock that had been so susceptible to phylloxera. The new rootstock-clone combinations required longer hang time for the fruit to reach physiological maturity, and longer hang time made for higher sugar content in the grapes and ultimately higher alcohol levels in the finished wines. Gone forever were the sub-13% Cabernet Sauvignons of the ‘60’s, ‘70’s, and early ‘80’s, with the new wines weighing in at 14-14.5% alcohol by volume and beyond. The new style of wines was debated by press and consumers alike, with critics and the use of numerical scores blamed for the new higher alcohol trend. But in the end, it was the different plant material that was responsible for the change in wine style. As always, nature bats last.

Final Thoughts

With the passing of time it’s all too easy to forget where we come from. There is so much about California wine that we take for granted simply because it’s been around for decades and become an almost unseen part of the fabric of our professional lives. One of the most important take-aways from Benson’s book for me is the need to keep California wine history on our radar. Further, to maintain an intense curiosity about where the industry came from, and to laud--and never forget--the first generations who put California on the world wine map. Our industry would not exist without the likes of Martin Ray, Andre Tchelistcheff, Robert Mondavi, Paul Draper, Joe Heitz, Warren Winiarsky, Dick Peterson and many more. They are the reason why the California wines of today are considered among the greatest anywhere.  

*A sad footnote: just yesterday I learned of the passing of long time Simi winemaker Mary Ann Graff. She was the only woman interviewed in Benson’s book. Graff was the first woman to earn a degree in Enology at UC Davis, the first woman winemaker of the modern era in California, and the first woman on the Board of Directors of the American Society for Enology and Viticulture. I met her several times over the years and always appreciated her deftly balanced wines, her wit, and her passion for the industry. She will be greatly missed.