To an outsider, a wine trip seems like a dream junket where we, the anointed industry professionals, are escorted in luxury from winery to winery in some foreign exotic locale. And once there, we’re treated like royalty by winery owners and importers as we taste (drink) our way through zillions of expensive wines and eat at fabulous restaurants.

In reality, wine trips are a totally different thing. More often than not, the trips are like death marches where you and a group of people in the trade you probably don’t know (but will soon know all too well) are stuck in a van for hours a day for a week or more. And the daily schedule of appointments can be brutal with four or five stops a day and between 60-100 wines tasted.

Hopefully the food will be decent. Many times it’s not. Because wine is involved with every meal save breakfast there’s entirely too much protein and little in the way of green. There was a time when vegetarians perished on one of these trips. Now it’s better but vegans are still in the same boat. Traveling in Spain or Italy and you’re a vegan? Good luck.

Eventually, the metabolic seesaw of stimulants, depressants, and too little sleep takes its toll. Then someone in the van gets sick. If one person gets a cold or worse, everyone gets it. And there’s always the possibility for a shared food poisoning experience.

There’s another aspect to wine trips rarely mentioned, but experienced by all: the drivers. They can be consummate pros or ordinary hacks who somehow got roped into driving your group around for the day or a week. The young Greek lad who drove our group around his country for 10 days comes to mind. He wore the same polyester disco shirt the entire trip. I tried not to get close to him after the first couple of days. I’m sure he just stood the shirt up in his hotel room at night. And he definitely redefined the term “terroir.” Yes, car experiences on wine trips can sometimes be the stuff of legend. But they can also be some of the most terrifying moments in one’s life. Here are four personal fear and loathing experiences on the wine trail.

I: March, 2000 - Aconcagua, Chile

At the time I was working for the artist formerly known as the original wine.com. The trip was billed as a “Sommelier Summit” for a group of august U.S. wine professionals. For several days, we were shown wine country in and around Santiago and Casablanca near Valparaiso. On the last day of the tour I opted out of sightseeing with the group to instead go to a small winery in the Aconcagua about 90 minutes from where we were staying. My assignment was to taste through their inventory and choose some selections to direct import for wine.com.

I was picked up promptly at 8:00 AM by a young goateed lad in a smallish Euro car. I piled into the front seat and immediately noticed two things: first, that the floor was littered with trash and fast-food wrappers, and second, there was a small plastic statuette of the virgin attached to the dashboard. Little did I know I’d be praying to the tiny icon in a matter of minutes.

Goateed lad immediately took off full blast from the hotel into traffic. In no time we were on the highway, which wasn’t actually a highway but a two-lane affair with a middle passing lane. My driver immediately started to pass any car or truck he could. In short order I discovered the gestalt of highway driving in Chile: your single mission was to go as fast as you could and pass every vehicle in front of you to do just that. Using your blinker was less than optional. But there’s more. All the vehicles on the road with you were trying to do the same—even those in the opposite lane. This meant that the middle lane became a dangerous DMZ of sorts in which a never-ending game of chicken was played with the bigger vehicle or driver having the largest cajones winning quick and perilous stand offs.

Within minutes I was gripping the hand rest with one hand, the seat with the other, and repeatedly stomping on an imaginary brake pedal which was in reality a pile of trash. I must have told goatee man that we weren’t in a hurry at least a dozen times. He nodded every time and then stepped on the gas. At some point during the first hour I had the sudden realization that my life was in the young man’s hands. And if the gods were willing for us to live to see another day it would be. If not, at least the end would be quick. But it would also be messy.
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In time we did make it to the winery which was in the foothills of the 20,000-foot Mt. Aconcagua. It turns out that goateed lad was one of the sons of the owner. The latter took me through the winery, which was not much more than a concrete and corrugated metal building filled with tanks and barrels. Then we sat at a table and tasted through over 20 wines, mostly red. I made notes and chose six of the samples. We then talked about pricing and the logistics of shipping the wines to California. After a quick lunch it was time for the return trip back to the hotel. It was just as harrowing. But I don’t remember most of it because I slept—or pretended to. 

II: April, 2006 - Douro, Portugal

I was in Portugal with friend and fellow MS Keith Goldston under the auspices of AMORIM, the giant cork producer. For the better part of week we had toured cork forest, cork production plants, and a few wineries. Towards the end of the trip we drove from Porto to the Douro Valley located about two hours away. The Douro is one of the oldest vineyard areas in Europe. It’s also a barren moonscape that resembles the Grand Canyon, with vines planted on steep craggy hillsides that rise hundreds of feet up from the Douro River. Dynamite is actually used to put in new vineyards. The climate is also extreme, with temps averaging over a hundred degrees during the summer. Fortunately we were there in March before the heat set in.

Our driver for the week was the lovely Maria Rosita. She was bubbly, charming, and talked a mile-a-second. Maria was perpetually on her flip phone (remember, this was 2006) giving trip updates to her boss or chatting with friends. Maria also drove fast. Insanely fast. We must have made the trip between Lisbon and Porto in record time.

Our first appointment in the Douro lasted until late afternoon, when it began to rain. Keith and I piled into the back of the rental with Maria at the wheel. Our destination was the hotel/restaurant for the night. In no time it was dark and pouring. Once settled behind the wheel, Maria rolled her window down (deluge and all), lit a cigarette, and then put on a cassette (yes, a cassette) of the Rolling Stones full blast. She had already told us multiple times that they were her favorite band. Maria then called one of her best friends to talk about the soccer game the night before between Porto—her team—and a close rival.
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From there, things went like this: it’s pitch dark and raining in sheets. From my window I can see the lights of buildings on the banks of the river hundreds of feet below. The town of Pinhão, our destination, is blinking in the distance. Maria is driving as fast as the tiny single lane road—now shiny and slick--will allow. There are wickedly sharp switchbacks and hairpin turns at regular intervals—but they’re not well marked. Meanwhile, Maria is yelling into her phone and waving her cigarette out the window with the other. I’m not sure how the car is being steered. With each turn Keith and I are tossed against each other or against our door. But the finishing touch is the music. “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” is blaring from the fuzzy warbles sounds system. The song has never been the same for me. It never will be.

III: April 2006 - Douro Portugal

Same trip the next day. In the morning we toured Quinta do Crasto, a Port producer. After lunch Maria dropped us off at Niepoort, a historic family-owned house that specializes in aged Tawny Ports and dry wines from Port varieties. Dirk Niepoort is one of Portugal’s most important winemakers. He’s also an affable no-nonsense guy. After introductions we piled into his Land Rover for the trip up a very steep hill—as in, a 40-plus-percent grade—to the winery. The Land Rover was ancient: one of those thick rattly metal cans with an engine and drive train that are good for nothing other than traversing off-road or up really steep hills at a snail’s pace.

I got in the front seat next to Dirk. Keith and Roger Archey from the PR company were in the back. I immediately noticed that there were no seat belts and mentioned it to Dirk. He looked at me as if I had two heads. “Why would you need them up there?” he asked. I shrugged. We then chug-chugged in slow motion up the bumpy dirt road to the top.

Just as we reached the summit Dirk suddenly said, “Shit, I left the keys down at the house.” At this point any normal/sane person would have slowly turned the car around to go back downhill. But not Dirk. With left hand on the steering wheel, he clanked the mighty Land Rover into reverse. Then he turned around to look backwards and told us, “you’d better hold on.” What followed was 30 or more of the longest, scariest-ass seconds of my life. Any wrong move with the steering wheel, however slight, and we would have somersaulted hundreds of feet to the bottom of the vineyard. We might even have made the river. It’s been done before. Roger yipped at one point. I just held on to anything I could for dear life. I’m not sure about Keith. After an eternity we reached the bottom of the road and zipped up to the side door of the house. Then Dirk looked at us and said “what?”

IV: May 2008 - Palermo, Sicily

Flying into Palermo from Rome took all of 35 minutes. Unfortunately, my suitcase did not make it. Trying to make sense of that with the woman handling missing luggage was hit and miss at best. But I did show her my passport and the name of the hotel so there was a glimmer of hope.

After, I met up with a colleague and we grabbed a cab to the hotel. The cabbie nailed every stereotype of his ilk possible. He was large, completely unkempt, and given to laying on the horn, waving his fist, and screaming at any car that wasn’t going fast enough. And this was even before we got out of the parking lot. Once we got on the freeway he hit his stride. The good news was that the hotel was only 30 minutes from the airport.

By the time we got into Palermo it was rush hour. No surprise that the cabbie became all the more incensed by stopped traffic, muttering and periodically leaning out his window to verbally assault some random driver who then did likewise. When in Palermo…. But scary cab driver had one more trick up his sleeve. At some point he made a sharp left turn down a major one-way street--going the wrong way. Cabbie guy took the far-right lane, lowered his head, laid on the horn, and drove. Cars and trucks coming toward us scattered like pigeons on a playground, some ending up on the sidewalk. I had one of those moments described in the Chile incident above. There was nothing I could do and it was only a matter of seconds before this crazy moron got us all killed. But it didn’t happen. Instead he whipped a hard right turn and screeched to a halt in front our hotel. Before we could even move he was out of the car, trunk opened, and my colleague’s suitcase tossed in front of the bell stand. We got out and he immediately asked to be paid. Basta! he said with his hand out. I paid him and he got back in the cab muttering and giving me the eye. But there was a happy ending to the story. My suitcase turned up around midnight. And I had lived to be able to open it.
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Finito

It was April 2006. I’d been in Portugal for the better part of a week with good friend and fellow MS Keith Goldston. We were guests of AMORIM, Portugal’s largest cork producer. For the past several days we had toured cork factories, seen cork forests, and sat through seminars on all things cork-related with an emphasis on TCA issues. The week also involved several great meals including numerous opportunities to taste black pig, the most delicious pork in the known universe. But now it was late afternoon on the last day. We were sitting on the beach in Porto watching a huge golden sun set over the Atlantic while sipping ice-cold Sagres beers and eating the freshest, briniest oysters I’ve ever tasted. Life was grand.

It was precisely at that moment that Maria Rosita, our guide for the week, suddenly rushed up saying she had managed to get tickets to the first ever winemaker dinner to be held that night in Porto. Further, the meal would be prepared by one of Portugal’s hottest chefs and would take place at the modern art museum. She was simply giddy at the prospect as if she had scored backstage passes to a Stones concert. 

Maria was therefore understandably shocked when we barely registered any response at all. “So let me get this straight,” I said, “you want us to leave all this to go to a winemaker dinner? Seriously?” Maria was visibly crestfallen, even offended. After all, she had been our cheerleader, biggest fan, and crazy-ass driver for the past week. Needless to say, the guilt of it all quickly sunk in and we caved in seconds. We would then go to the dinner, forsaking the Hallmark moment of sunset at the beach, oysters, and cold beer.

In less than half an hour we were at the entrance of the stark white museum exterior. Once inside we were quickly ushered to the room designated for the night’s gala event. It took just moments to realize that the venue may have worked for a museum but was a completely untenable space for any kind of catered meal. The ceilings in the “dining room” were barely ten feet high, which wasn’t exactly a problem except for the fact that everyone—except us—smoked. Constantly. Heavily. If not familiar, smoking is one of Portugal’s national sports along with football. To top it all off and complete the psycho-killer feel of the room was the fact that there weren’t any windows. What followed can only be described as a quick descent into the darkest reaches of culinary hell. But as the wise Inigo Montoya once said, “It’s too long to explain. Let me sum up.” 

To begin, the cast for the evening’s performance:

The crowd: Dozens of Porto’s top foodies, all fashionably attired were there in force eagerly awaiting the night’s event as they smoked cigarette after cigarette non-stop. 

The winemaker: Was from a small estate in the Douro Valley that produced both Port and dry wines from indigenous varieties. He resembled a short, beardless Santa Claus and was perpetually smiling as if someone had dialed up his medication for the evening. He spoke only Portuguese, which to me has always sounded like Russian pirates trying to speak Spanish. 

The winemaker’s son: Would be joining us at our table, which meant that Keith and I would actually have to behave and pay attention. The son had gone to school in New York and spoke very good English. He was a timid sort but truly excited about the evening because it was a grand opportunity to show off his family’s winery and wines. After all, it was also Porto’s first winemaker dinner and how bad could that be? The gods were just about to show us.
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The Chef: Soon after arriving, Maria arranged for Keith and me to meet the chef.  Moments later he appeared from the kitchen in impeccably clean starched whites with his tiny assistant trailing behind. Said assistant was a short, mousy woman who looked as if she’d experienced one too many explosions at close proximity. We would soon learn why. The Chef shook our hands vigorously and, in perfect English, regaled us with tales of his recent opening of a multi-million-dollar restaurant in Rio de Janeiro. He then went on to provide his thoughts on the menu for the night’s extravaganza.

​It was about ninety seconds into the conversation when I noticed the chef’s left eye start to twitch. Odd, I thought, but really no big deal. But as he went on describing the menu and how he would, and I quote, “flout convention,” things got downright strange. His speech became increasingly punctuated with loud staccato words accompanied by jerking gestures. Several minutes in and our chef was shouting and literally spitting out words as he finished describing the dessert course. Keith and I looked on with more than a bit of concern. We weren’t quite sure what had just happened. But in watching him and then looking at his tiny cowering assistant everything suddenly became crystal clear. And the thought of this guy in a hot busy-ass kitchen working with knives also became an unsettling picture. 

Punctually at eight o’clock the proceedings began with an elegantly dressed socialite, cigarette in hand, welcoming the group and introducing the evenings’ important personalities. First the winemaker stepped up and, over the course of the next ten minutes or so, told the story of the family winery all the while mewling in sotto voce Portuguese. Every few minutes Keith and I turned to his son and asked, “What did he just he say?”  The response was something like, “he said the winery is really old,” or “the hills are very steep.” Finally, the winemaker showed both wisdom and temerity by sitting down. Next up came the chef with his assistant. Any doubts about the earlier script being repeated were quickly resolved as the chef sputtered his way through the description of the first course. The crowd, bless them all, listened with rapt attention and smoked incessantly on as if nothing was amiss.   

As the first course hit the table I remembered the chef’s phrase: “flout convention.” It was a soup course. In this case, a cream of almond soup with a texture not unlike Malt-O-Meal. But the crowning touch was a raw egg yolk floating in the center of the bowl looking for all the world like an enormous evil yellow eye. Memories of the black and white Twilight Zone commercials with the huge blinking eye quickly came to mind. All around me diners with spoons in hand pierced the evil yellow eye and tucked into the almond soup, which was remarkably salty and a stark contrast to the slimy texture of the egg yolk. To top it off, the soup was paired with an oxidized and over-oaked Douro white wine that reminded me of an unfinished bedroom set that had seen better days. I will leave it to you to imagine the combination of gloppy soup, slimy egg yolk, and oaky over-the-hill white. It was definitely not conventional. 

With each successive course the bizarre tableau repeated itself. The foodies chain-smoked as if it were their last day on earth until the smoke got so thick that one could, as they say, cut it with a chef’s knife. The winemaker would stand up and quietly mewl away for 5-10 minutes about the next wine. Finally, mercifully, he would stop talking to the smoky applause of the diners. Then the chef would reappear from the kitchen with his tiny assistant trailing behind him. As before, he would start speaking to the group with authority and conviction but within minutes start to melt down. After sputtering and barking through his description of the next course he would return to the kitchen as the audience politely applauded through the haze. To say it was all surreal is a bit of an understatement.

Between courses Keith and I would stagger outside through a side door gasping for fresh air. Any and all urges to grab the nearest cab back to the hotel were quickly thwarted by the appearance of Maria, who was concerned about our sudden absence. We complained vociferously about the cigarette smoke but there was nothing really to be done. To her credit, Maria tried to get the people around us to give the smoking a rest several times but they completely ignored her. 

The high point, the pièce de résistance, of entire evening was surely the entrée. It consisted of a large chunk of cod, a staple of the Portuguese diet, which had been pan-seared and supposedly finished in the oven. Beneath the cod was a puree of roasted pearl onions and on the side a lettuce leaf burrito looking affair filled with soggy mashed potatoes. As I went to cut into the cod for the initial bite I quickly realized that it was all but raw. In fact, it had the same texture as a piece of flesh just carved from the bone of basically any kind of dead animal. 

Accompanying the dead cod and fixings was the Brettiest, most tannic Douro red wine I’ve ever tasted. Imagine the essence of barnyard and iodine combined with a texture similar to licking the floor of a machine shop. When I first put my nose in the glass my eyes watered and I saw the color brown. At that point I looked up and across the table at Keith. He was equally stunned. We put our dinning utensils down in unison, picked up a glass of one of the other wines, and quickly slammed the remaining contents. All around us Porto’s top foodies wolfed down the raw cod and potato burrito with relish and aplomb.

The end the meal was kind of/partially/sort of saved by a delicious flourless chocolate cake prepared not by the chef but by a local caterer. It was paired with the winemaker’s vintage port which had a smoky edge due either to the wine’s age or the tainted air in our lungs.
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Three-plus hours later we emerged from that hazy den of gastronomic disaster practically begging for another beer. Back at the hotel bar we did our best to tell Maria that it was OK. We would be just fine. After the second beer even she had to say, “Wow, that really sucked.” And so it did--but with style. 

Something often overlooked in tasting books or even tasting classes is basic instruction on how best to pick up a glass of wine and, for lack of a better term, address it. Further, the value of discovering the best angle to hold the glass and smelling techniques to get the most out of a wine’s aromas is not often emphasized enough. This post covers all that and more. I include the concept of eye positions as it relates to smelling wine, specifically the need to discover one’s starting eye position and how critical it is to becoming a consistent taster. While the subject of eye positions may be new to you, behavioral scientists have known about their importance vis a vis language patterns and sensory memory for some time. With all that, read on and discover!
 
Sometimes I think the process of smelling and tasting wine is a lot like playing golf. Both are very complex sequences that involve the use of multiple senses to process a great deal of information in the moment all to achieve a single goal. To point, addressing the golf ball consistently before making a shot in golf is probably the single most important factor for success in the game. Likewise, consistency in technique when picking up a glass to smell wine is incredibly important. I call the process “glassware stance.” Here’s a breakdown of the essential steps.  
 
The Angle of the Glass
 
Every wine glass has a “best angle” or sweet spot for smelling wine—the angle where the aromatics can be most easily perceived and recognized. To find the best angle, start by placing the glass vertically just underneath your nose and slowly tilt the glass up. Don’t go too far! You’ll inhale the wine. At some point, when the angle of the glass is between 45 and 50 degrees, the aromas of the glass will begin to “sing” and be easy to detect. It’s important to note that different kinds/shapes of glasses (Bordeaux vs. Burgundy stems) have different “best angles.” Remember to check for this every time you pick up a different glass.
 
Smelling Techniques

Practically every source on tasting I’ve ever read suggests smelling wine using several short and gentle sniffs. I completely agree. The opposite—smelling wine with one prolonged intense hoover/inhalation--is anything but effective. For one, the alcohol in the wine can quickly overwhelm your sense of smell. I call that carpal nasal. It’s also a bit awkward.

Passive vs. Active Inhalation
 
Most of the human race smells wine by placing the lip of the glass directly on the upper lip just beneath the nose, then sniffing. I call this passive inhalation as it relies almost entirely on orthonasal smelling or, technically speaking, detecting the volatile compounds (aromatics) in a wine by inhaling through the nasal passages. For the record, this doesn’t work for me. It quickly overwhelms my sense of smell. Instead, I use a technique I learned at a Cognac master class decades ago. I call it “active inhalation.”
 
When smelling wine, I pull the glass away from my face by about a half-inch, open my mouth slightly, and then breathe in (and out) gently through my mouth and nose at the same time. Why does active inhalation potentially work better? It’s due to physiology. There are two methods of smelling—ortho nasal, mentioned above, and retro-nasal, which uses both nasal and oral cavities. What I call “active inhalation” makes use of both ortho and retro-nasal smelling in tandem. It also more than doubles the physiological real estate used to smell. Will it work for you? No guarantees, but it’s definitely worth checking out. To do so, simply try the following:

1. Start with the glass resting directly underneath your nose positioned at about a 45° angle.
2. Move the glass slowly out to at least an inch away from your nose. 
   Make sure the glass is also positioned near your mouth.
3. Open your mouth about ¼ inch.
4. Smell the wine breathing gently in--and out--through your mouth and nose at the same time.
5. Test the results: are you able to smell better? Does the change make a difference at all? Try going back and forth between smelling with just your nose vs. nose and mouth together.

 
Give the active inhalation technique a try. It may—or may not—work for you. Again, no guarantees. But I think you’ll find it especially effective when smelling higher alcohol wines like Port and Sherry, as well as spirits.

Using a Consistent Starting Eye Position
 
The last piece of the glassware stance equation is perhaps the most important—and something no one ever talks about, much less teaches. As you put your nose in the glass to focus on all aromatics, you might be aware of the fact that your head and torso tend to go slightly down. You might also notice that as you reach the spot where you can smell the best, your eyes probably end up looking down in front of you either straight ahead, slightly to the left, or even slightly to the right. It’s different for everyone.
 
This may not seem important, but it’s a vital part of being consistent in starting the internal sequence of smelling wine. The relationship between eye positions and various kinds of sense memory are called “vertical and lateral eye movements” or “eye accessing cues.” I strongly believe that finding your consistent starting eye position is vitally important in becoming a professional taster. Most discover it unconsciously over time with a great deal of repetition. It would therefore seem preferable to find it sooner rather than later. Here are steps to find your starting eye position.  

1. Stand up—you’ll be able to focus much better than you can when sitting down.
2. Pick up the glass and smell the wine.
3. While smelling the wine, focus your eyes downward at a 15-20° angle above the floor and straight ahead.
4. While continuing to smell the wine, take your free hand and point to the location where your eyes are looking.
5. Now move your eyes and free hand together, slowly, from left to center to the right—all the while continuing to smell the wine.
6. Gradually find the one place that feels the most comfortable and familiar—it shouldn’t take long to locate it.
7. Once you find your “best” starting place, be sure to mark it clearly in your memory.
8. This is your starting eye position. Be sure to use it whenever beginning to smell a wine.

 
Important! Remember that it’s just your starting place. After you begin to examine a wine, your eyes will move to various locations as you analyze it. However, what’s important is that you remember to start in the same place every time. Being aware of your starting eye position is also a priceless resource when taking a tasting exam. It gives you a “reset” place when a wine is proving difficult to describe or identify. 
 
Coda
 
There are several concepts listed above. For the sake of ease and your sanity, I suggest taking them one at a time and working with them until they seem easy. If something doesn’t seem easy at first, odds are you’re doing it in a way that doesn’t work for your brain. The moment you do find the right way, your brain will let you know immediately. When that happens, make note of it and do it every time going forward. You’ll be glad you did.
 
Cheers!

​Everyone, hope you are keeping safe and well. Welcome to the holidays in a time of pandemic. Odds are you’ve done more reading this year with the quarantine thing than in previous. I know I have. And we could all use a good book right about now. Here is a list of recommendations for books I’ve read this past year. I’ve also included two books that I’m currently reading. Both are so good I had to include them. With that, read on and enjoy!

Non-Fiction

Letters from an Astrophysicist, by Neil de Grasse Tyson

A thoughtful small tome of letters written to and by famed scientist Neil de Grasse Tyson. Throughout he is a pragmatic scientist to the core, answering challenging questions from readers, critics, and even fundamentalist firebrands. His personal account of 9/11--he lived literally four blocks from ground zero--is chilling. A completely enjoyable read. And it’s a good thing we have scientists like him in this nutty world.

The Queens of Animation, by Nathalia Holt

Holt's book is a history of the women animators who worked for the Disney studio during its golden years. Of the artists chronicled, Mary Blair is the only name I knew previously. She truly was a giant among giants--Disney loved her animation. Beyond, I enjoyed making the connections between the various artists and their contributions to early Disney animated classics. Retta Scott and her work on the movie Bambi is one of many notables.  

Chaucer: A European Life, by Marion Turner

Dr. Marion Turner is Professor of English Literature at the University of Oxford, and a Fellow of Jesus College, Oxford. She specializes in medieval literature and culture, with a focus on Chaucer. Carla heard Terry Gross interview her on Fresh Air early in the year and shared it with me. I thought Turner’s enthusiasm for Chaucer, his life, and writings--especially The Canterbury Tales—was infectious. Her book is comprised of over 500 pages of incredible detail about Chaucer and English history of the time, including all the insane politics. It’s a superb read about one of the early greats of English literature. 

Tea: A Nerd's Eye View, by Virginia Utermohlen Loveland MD

Dr. Loveland is an MD by profession and a chemist. Her book is a deep dive into the world of tea, especially in regards to the chemistry of the plant and the brew itself. There’s more than a bit of science here but lots to learn and appreciate. 

The Ninth: Beethoven and the World in 1824, by Harvey Sachs

Harvey Sachs is a trained musician (piano and conducting) and a music historian. The Ninth is a heartfelt homage to the author’s lifelong obsession with Beethoven and his ninth symphony. Further, it’s an exploration into Europe post-Napoleonic war and how repressive society was at the time following the previous era of égalité and liberté. Sachs also includes short sections in the book on Byron, Pushkin, Delacroix, and the German poet Heinrich Heine, and their roles as revolutionaries in their respective arts. Perhaps the most impressive part of the book is the chapter where Sachs describes his impressions of the ninth symphony movement-by-movement, section-by-section. His text is the product of being intimately familiar with the score for several decades. I personally find it hard enough to describe a piece of music even for a few bars. Sachs succeeds in doing that on a grand scale and for one of the greatest compositions ever written. This year marks the 250th anniversary of Beethoven’s birth. The Ninth is a timely read. 

The Art of Eating, by M.F.K. Fisher

I'd heard about M.F.K. Fisher forever but had never read any of her books. Shame on me. Earlier this year I tackled the 50th anniversary edition of her The Art of Eating. It’s a compendium containing her first five books published between 1937 and 1949: Serve it Forth, Consider the Oyster, How to Cook a Wolf, The Gastronomical Me, and An Alphabet For Gourmets. Fisher is widely considered one of the country’s greatest food writers ever. Any and all accolades are well-deserved. I found her writing to be completely engaging, capable of capturing the very essence of savoring a truffle or sipping a great bottle of wine. Her ability to effortlessly go between microscopic detail and 30K feet is remarkable. As much as anything, I enjoyed her detailed accounts of the state of food, wine, and dining between the wars and beyond. If you are remotely interested in food and wine you’ll love The Art of Eating. 

The Biggest Bluff: How I Learned to Pay Attention, Master Myself, and Win, by Maria Konnikova

Maria Konnikova has a PhD in psychology from Columbia and has written two previous books that made the Times list. In The Biggest Bluff Konnikova writes how she has always been intrigued with the role that luck and chance play in our lives. After reading a book by John von Neuman (20th century scientist) and how he took up poker to further his theories on chance, Maria decides to dedicate a year to becoming a professional poker player. What follows is one of those classic writer decides to spend a year or more trying to learn a completely different profession books. However, Biggest Bluff is well-written and by the end you care about Maria and her experiences in the underbelly of gaming and poker tournaments. There are also several passages in the book where she compares the skills needed to play poker professionally with dealing with real-life decisions. An enjoyable read.  

Anaximander, by Carlo Rovelli

This is the fourth book I've read by Italian theoretical physicist Carlo Rovelli. All have been superb. Reading his work about Anaximander of 6th century BCE Greece is to discover one of the greatest minds human kind has ever produced. A thousand years before the Renaissance, Anaximander believed that the earth floated in space, that rainfall came from the clouds formed from water evaporated by the sun, and that all living things originated from the sea. However, the most important thing we credit Anaximander was for the idea that all the phenomena of the world had natural causes--and nothing to do with a pantheon of gods and goddesses. Further, that we could learn these causes through our own thought processes and investigations. What is extraordinary is that we know practically nothing about Anaximander, the man. There are literally only a few fragmented lines that can be directly attributed to him. However, a host of the greatest Greek minds—Plato, Socrates, and the like—who would follow him in the next few centuries mentioned him often and quoted his ideas. I found Rovelli's writing to be top flight as always. In addition to Anaximander, Carlo tackles the thorny issue of god/religion vs. science head on and much more. I am a huge fan of Rovelli’s writing and books. I hope you will become one too.

Fiction

The Canterbury Tales: Penguin Edition, by Geoffrey Chaucer

The other shoe drops… I hadn’t read the Canterbury Tales since 1982, at which time I was in graduate school at the University of Michigan studying trumpet. That spring the trumpet class at school played a softball game against the brass section of the Philadelphia Orchestra, that happened to be in town for a series of concerts. My first at bat yielded a grounder up the middle. I didn’t even make it to first base. I pulled up short with what seemed to be a Charley horse in my right thigh. It turned out to be a partially torn muscle. During my three-week rehab I decided for whatever reason to read "great books." Canterbury Tales was one of them. Fast forward to last spring. After reading Turner’s biography above I picked up the Penguin edition. It’s a good translation from middle English and easy to read. The wife of Bath's prologue and tale are the best. The stereotypes of men, women, knights, scholars, and more were already well established by this early time. As much as things change…

Circe, by Madeline Miller

Madeline Miller’s book Circe seemed to be in the window of every airport bookstore I passed in the last couple of years. I finally picked it up and I’m glad I did. Circe is one of my favorite reads of the year. I knew of her story previously from reading the Odyssey, but Miller brings Circe’s character and mythology to life in a thrilling way. Highest recommendation.

Quichotte, by Salman Rushdie

Rushdie is one of the great novelists of our time. His book, Quichotte, is also one of the craziest-ass books I've read in years. The cast of characters is just this side of unbelievable. The plot quickly reveals a book-within-a-book where the differences between reality and fiction blur and completely melt down by the end. Quichotte is a thrill ride of a read. 

The Master and Margarita, by Mikhail Bulgakov

The Master is perhaps the most famous 20th century Russian novel. It's also surrealist with a capital S. The book had been sitting in the “to read” pile on various bookshelves for the past two years. I had read the opening chapter twice previously, putting it down both times and thinking, "this is really insane, abstruse writing." Reading the entire the book did little to change my mind. The plot is so convoluted that it’s almost impossible to describe. The cast of characters includes the devil and various evil cohorts, Pontius Pilate (that Pontius Pilate), Jesus, and a host of characters, most of them writers in 1930s Moscow. I have never read a book quite like it. Odds are you will find it the same. 

Squeeze Me, by Carl Hiaasen

Squeeze Me is Carl Hiaasen’s latest. Like all Hiaasen’s works, it takes place in South Florida. The plot is a thinly veiled slice of political life from this past year. It features the president, Mastodon, and his wife Hummingbird. A host of giant Burmese Pythons, some over 20' long, play a major role. The first of these giant snakes we encounter in the book’s opening pages swallows an 80-pound elderly matron, who's passed out on the lawn of a chichi resort after one too many Tito's martinis and half a Xanax. As with any Hiaasen book the plot is just beyond credible and the characters even more tweaked. The book concludes with a madcap finale starring Mastodon who's just been nuked in a malfunctioning tanning bed and dozens of huge said pythons that have been set loose during a political rally. In other words, it's vintage Hiaasen. And that’s a wonderful thing.

My Favorite Read of the Year 

The Sandman, by Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman is my favorite fiction writer—and one of my very favorite writers of any ilk. I’ve read all his works save one: The Sandman. Certain factions of the author’s minions rave about it, saying that nothing else he’s written comes close. The Sandman is series of 14 graphic novels, most written between 1989 and 1996. I have never previously read any graphic novels, hence my hesitation at tackling the series. The story of The Sandman centers around “Dream,” or Morpheus, the king of dreams, and his siblings called the “Endless.” Gaiman draws from a myriad of religions, legends, mythologies, and tales. He also teamed up with a who’s-who of graphic novel artists using a different illustrator for each volume. No surprise that the art is simply amazing—at times beyond description. Gaiman’s storytelling, even for his first serious writing efforts, is extraordinary. By the time I finished the second volume I was hooked. Finishing the last volume of The Sandman reminded me of finishing Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy for the first time. Yes, The Sandman is that good—but it couldn’t possibly be more different.
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Important note: you should know that finding the entire series is not exactly easy. I opted for the simple but very expensive way by buying Marvel's new 30th anniversary edition just released in October. I plan to reread the entire set in the first quarter of next year. I’m really looking forward to it. 

Two Books I’m Currently Reading

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teaching of Plants, by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Last year during a conversation a colleague raved about a book he had just finished called Braiding Sweetgrass. I ordered it on the spot and after it arrived it sat in my “to read” stack for months. Earlier this week a good friend mentioned it in an online post saying the book was life-changing and the author an incredibly gifted teacher. Quickly the book moved to the “next read” slot. I’m now half the way through it. Braiding Sweetgrass is everything advertised and more. Robin Wall Kimmerer is a mother, scientist, professor, and enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. She lives in Syracuse, New York, where she is a SUNY Distinguished Teaching Professor of Environmental Biology, and the founder and director of the Center for Native Peoples and the Environment. Kimmerer is that rare teacher/writer who artfully blends scientific knowledge, indigenous story, and wisdom about the natural world. I’m taking my time with this first read and savoring each chapter. Highest recommendation. 

Nose Dive: A Field Guide to the World’s Smells, by Harold McGee

Lest you think I’m not reading wine books or wine-related books… Harold McGee is an awarding-winning food/food science writer based in San Francisco. His latest book, Nose Dive, is a masterpiece. That’s no hyperbole. The book was 15 years in the making and has been called the ultimate guide to all things olfactory. I’ll add my two cents in that it’s a very deep dive into families of aromatics with descriptions and chemical breakdowns. The text could easily have been impossibly technical but McGee’s skillful writing makes the complex easily understandable. No doubt Nose Dive will be a reference work for many years to come. Bravo, Harold! 

Hola from New Mexico. I hope everyone is keeping safe and well. Welcome to the lockdown version of the holidays. We may be huddling in our bunkers with immediate family or roommates, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a delicious bottle of vino or two with our holiday victuals.

As for pairing wine with the traditional holiday meal, it’s no big deal and certainly not rocket science. The sweet-savory-earthy combination of flavors of the holiday meal make it ideal—even forgiving--for practically any style of wine with few exceptions. Those exceptions are monumentally over-oaked Chardonnay or astringently tannic red wines like Cabernet Sauvignon. Remember that oak and tannin are the least flexible elements in wine when it comes to pairing with food. Having said that, I must also remind you that the X-factor in any wine experience is one’s personal preference. So if oaky Chardonnay or tannic Cabernet is your thing, by all means go for it.

What wines work best with the holiday meal? Practically any other style than those just mentioned. Look for unoaked, higher acid white wines, and medium-to-full bodied reds that aren’t too oaky or tannic. Piece of cake. No, make that pie. One last morsel of wisdom: residual sugar in white wine is extra primo good with the holiday meal because so many of the dishes also have a sweet element in them. Remember, sweet needs sweet when it comes to food and wine pairing.
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Quick note: If you can’t find one of the wines listed below locally, use winesearcher.com. It should bring up multiple sources for most—if not all—the wines on the list. Now it’s time to read on and assemble your holiday vino-shopping list.

Sparkling Wine and Champagne

Now more than ever it’s comforting to know that good bubbly is affordable. And we all need to drink more of it regularly.

NV Sorelle Bronca "Particella 68," Prosecco Superiore Brut: This is not the cheap stuff case-stacked to the rafters at Trader Joe’s. It’s the real deal, as in Prosecco Superiore DOCG (vs. simple Prosecco DOC wines). Sorrella is a small family owned estate in the town of Valdobiaddene. The Particella 68 Brut is produced in small quantities from a single vineyard planted on an impossibly steep hillside. Prosecco like this is the essence of Vivaldi in a bottle.

NV Ca' del Bosco Cuvée Prestige Brut, Franciacorta: Gets my vote for best overall value in sparkling wine. The wine is vibrant, earthy, and delicious. The package is simply gorgeous and the price is right. What’s not to love?

NV Pierre Peters Cuvée de Reserve, Blanc de Blancs: One of the first grower-producer Champagnes I tasted over 20 years ago—and still one of my favorites. The Pierre Peters is a true blanc de blancs from 100% Chardonnay. It’s lacy, steely, and laser-like on the palate. In short, quintessential aperitif Champagne.
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NV Alfred Gratien Rosé Brut: Like Krug and Bollinger, Alfred Gratien uses wood for primary fermentation to lend a rounded texture to the finished wine. That aside, there is no better value for rosé Champagne than the non-vintage Gratien. Period. I’m flummoxed why it’s not better known and appreciated.

White Wine

My list of holiday whites generally follows the theme of high acid, non-oaked wines from semi-aromatic grapes. There’s also a Chardonnay recommendation, plenty of Riesling, and an otherworldly Gewürztraminer.

Clelia Romano Fiano di Avellino, Colli di Lapio: I first bought Clelia Romano’s Fiano while a buyer at Virtual Vineyards over 20 years ago at the dawn of online time and retail cyber space. It remains one of my very favorite Italian whites with its lovely white floral, pear/quince, and tart citrus notes framed by intense minerality.

Cantina Terlano Pinot Bianco Riserva, "Vorberg," Alto Adige: Pinot Bianco, aka Pinot Blanc, practically always underachieves in a major way. Not so here. Terlano gets my vote for best white wine producer in Italy and their Vorberg is easily one of the greatest wines made from the grape. The vineyard is located on a steep alpine slope with sandy, porphyry-gravel soils. The wine is dense (dry extract) and concentrated with lots of acid lift.

Domaine Sigalas Assyrtiko, Santorini: Do you really need another reason to visit the magnificent island of Santorini? The Sigalas Assyrtiko is one of my favorite whites from anywhere. Rich and opulent but with racy acidity and insane volcanic minerality.

Domaine Huet Vouvray, Le Mont Sec: Huet’s Le Mont Sec could be the perfect white wine for turkey and all the trimmings. It’s also my favorite Vouvray by far; opulent, layered, and mineral-driven. If you haven’t tried it, you must.

Yalumba Viognier "The Virgilius," Eden Valley: A lot of New World Viognier is reminiscent of the Fat Elvis phase—as in awkward and a bit trashy. Not so here. Winemaker Louisa Rose of Yalumba is a master of Viognier. She makes three different bottlings from the grape and the top cuvée is called The Virgilius. It’s shimmering, perfumed, and elegant.

Domaine Weinbach Gewurztraminer, Cuvée Théo: Domaine Weinbach is one of the top estates in Alsace. Their Cuvée Théo is sourced from the oldest vines in the Clos du Capuchins vineyard. A quick whiff of the glass reveals an astonishing array of floral, lychee, spicy exotic fruit, and truffle-earth. In short, it’s a wow. 

Emmerich Knoll Grüner Veltliner Smaragd Loibenberg: Emmerich Knoll is one of the Austria’s top winemakers. Grüner Veltliner is the country’s premier white grape, and Smaragd its richest version—a classification only used in the Wachau, the country’s smallest quality wine region. Smaragd wines are completely decadent with honey, ginger, and saffron from botrytis combined with the pepper, daikon, and botanical notes that make Grüner Veltliner so unique. Knoll’s Smaragd Loibenberg is not exactly easy to find and it’s not inexpensive. But try it you must.  

Mount Eden Estate Chardonnay: A Chardonnay recommendation before all the Rieslings. Mount Eden’s Estate has always been my favorite California Chardonnay. Steep Santa Cruz Mountains hillside vineyards planted with Burgundian clones make for one of the most unique places for the grape in the New World. Winemaker Jeffrey Patterson always keeps balance in mind so the use of oak is never excessive. His wines are also among the few California Chardonnays capable of long-term aging. I’ve tasted 25-year-old bottles that were mature and yet fresh.

Riesling

Half my cellar (which sadly is still a thousand miles away in Oakland, CA), is German Riesling. Most of that is Spätlese-level (late harvest) as in slightly sweet. Why? Because Spätlese Riesling is the most versatile and delicious food white wine there is. I can’t think of a better white for the holiday table. Following is a short list of some of my favorite producers and vineyards with Spätlese specifically in mind.

Egon Müller Scharzhofberg: Weightless, shimmering elegance, and filigree. It’s expensive (and should be).

Dönnhoff Niederhäuser Hermannshöhle: Many believe Helmut Dönnhoff and his son Cornelius to be Germany’s top winemakers. I find it hard to disagree. The Hermannshöhle makes for sumptuous, layered, fruity wines as well as brilliant dry Grosse Lage bottlings. Not easy to find, but can be temporarily life-changing.

Robert Weil Kiedricher Gräfenberg: One of the Rheingau’s (and Germany’s) top estates—and greatest vineyards. The wines are incredibly focused, concentrated, and weightless. Utterly delectable.

Rheinhold Haart Piesporter Goldtröpchen: Theo Haart’s Rieslings from the great Goldtröpchen vineyard are easily the best in Piesport. The wines are honeyed, sumptuous, and racy. 

J.J. Prüm Wehlener Sonnenuhr: The Prüm wines have a distinct terroir, great precision, and ethereal filigree. The Wehlener Sonnenuhr vineyard has been cultivated without interruption for the better part of the last 2,000 years.
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Gunderloch Nackenheimer Rothenberg: I’m still sad about the passing of owner-winemaker and friend Fritz Hasselbach in the fall of 2016. His Rieslings from the Rothenberg vineyard were always opulent and shamelessly hedonistic. Fritz may be gone, but the family’s outstanding wines from the Rothenberg are still with us.

Rosé

Dry rosé is perfect with the holiday dinner, especially roast turkey which a colleague once described as, “chicken with attitude.” Here is a trio of favorite pink wines.

Domaine de Fontsainte Corbières Rosé, Gris de Gris: A delicious Southern French saignée rosé made from a blend of Grenache Gris, Grenache Noir, and Carignan. Saignée, BTW, refers to the traditional method of separating part of the juice from a red wine fermentation and making rosé from it. I’m convinced that we are all better for it.

Robert Sinskey Vin Gris of Pinot Noir: Many pink wines are cast-offs or after thoughts intended to generate quick cash flow. Not the Sinskey Vin Gris. The fruit comes from prime Pinot Noir real estate. The grapes are whole cluster pressed and only the free run juice is used. The result is dry, delicate, and delightful.

Tasca d'Almerita Tenuta Regaleali, Le Rose, Rosato: Sicily is one of my favorite places in the wine world. Tenuta Regaleali is a gorgeous estate located in the mountains an hour from Palermo. The estate has been owned by the Tasca d’Almerita family since 1837, and is known for superb wines and an internationally recognized cooking school. This vibrant rosato is made from Nerello Mascalese grapes planted in 1974. It offers tart youthful red fruit with a touch of volcanic minerality.

Red Wine

In choosing reds, I’ve kept in mind the fact that some may opt for lamb, beef, or venison instead of the usual roast turkey. Thus, you’ll find both lighter and richer reds below.

Gary Farrell Pinot Noir, Hallberg Vineyard, Russian River Valley: Pinot Noir is a universal go-to red wine this time of year, and for good reason: its bright fruit and silky tannins make it an ideal mate for Thanksgiving dinner and beyond. Winemaker Theresa Heredia of Gary Farrell is one of my favorites for Russian River Pinot. Her wines always show wonderful depth and spice character.

Roberto Voerzio Barbera d’Alba, "Il Cerreto": Barbera is not exactly a wine that comes to mind with Thanksgiving dinner--but it should. Roberto Voerzio is one of the top producers in Barolo. His Barberas are also legendary. The “Il Cerreto” is crammed with luscious fruit, savory herbal notes, and tart acidity.

La Rioja Alta Viña Ardanza Reserva: La Rioja Alta is one of my favorite old-school Rioja producers. Their Viña Ardanza Reserva spends three years in American oak casks, giving the wine an overt Bourbon-spiciness with a supple texture and distinct earthiness.

Yalumba "The Signature," Shiraz-Cabernet Sauvignon: Shiraz-Cabernet blends from Australia are one of the world’s best-kept red wine secrets. Yalumba’s The Signature is a perfect marriage between the spice and savory elements of Shiraz and the structure of Cabernet. It’s also one of my favorite reds for the money.

Henschke "Keynetone Euphonium," Shiraz-Cabernet, Eden Valley: A visit some years ago to the Henschke winery in Eden Valley was one of the greatest single producer tastings I’ve ever experienced. The major take away was that no one does red wine texture and tannin management better than Steven Henschke. As expected, the Hill of Grace Shiraz was world-class. But I especially remember the Keynetone Euphonium, a Shiraz-Cabernet blend. It was lush, seamless, and imminently drinkable.
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Storybook Mountain Reserve Zinfandel: Jerry Seps is a founder of ZAP (Zinfandel Advocates and Producers) and one of the patriarchs of the grape. His reserve bottling—a selection of the best barrels in a given vintage--is easily my favorite Zinfandel. It shows the lush—just this side of frat party--fruit we expect from Zin but in the most elegant and stylish expression possible. 

Dessert Wine

There’s only one rule that needs to be followed when pairing dessert wines with holiday desserts: The wine must always be sweeter than the dessert. Here are three very different stickies, all perfect for holiday desserts.

Donnafugata Ben Ryé: made on the windswept volcanic island of Pantelleria from dried Muscat grapes locally called “Zbibbo.” Ben Ryé, which means “song of the wind” in Arabic, manages to be seductive without being cloying. It’s also one of the great values in dessert wines.

Niepoort Colheita Port: More often than not, aged tawny ports show declarations of 10, 20, 30, even 40 years on the label. A Colheita, or vintage Tawny, is a rarity and Niepoort specializes in them. The 1995 vintage I tasted recently is drinking beautifully with notes of toffee, roasted nuts, caramel, and molasses. Pumpkin pie, anyone?

Château Coutet à Barsac: Barsac is a neighbor to the higher rent Sauternes district and also produces botrytis sweet wines. Coutet is one of my favorite chateaux there. The wine always delivers unctuous honey and exotic spice flavors.

Coda: Support Your Local Independent Retailers

I hope you’ve found some holiday vino ideas from the list. Remember that any of the wines would make a thoughtful holiday gift. In fact, you should pick up several bottles for yourself. Otherwise, one final thing I want to suggest is that you support your local independent retailers whenever you can. Since the shelter in place began in March, I’ve made it a point to order from several independent shops owned by friends and colleagues. I’ve listed them below. I hope you will consider doing likewise with the retailers listed or ones in your local market. Cheers!
 
Boulder Wine Merchant, Boulder, CO: owner Brett Zimmerman, MS
https://www.boulderwine.com
(303) 443-6761
 
Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant, San Francisco, CA: owners Peter Granoff, MS, and Debbie Zacharias
https://fpwm.com
(415) 391-9400
 
San Francisco Wine Trading Company, San Francisco, CA: owners Gary and Julia Marcaletti
https://www.sfwtc.com
(415) 731-6222
 
The Wine Goddess, Evanston, IL: owner Diana Hamann
https://www.winegoddess.com
(847) 475-9463

There is no faking it. As professionals we are judged by how well we do it. It separates the novice from the professional, and it’s the unwritten--even unspoken--goal of any wine training. What is this mysterious coin of the realm? Simple: judging wine quality.

When hired for most jobs in the industry, this is what we are being employed to do. Whether it’s buying for a three-star Michelin restaurant wine list or choosing the best currently available sub-ten-dollar Merlots for a supermarket, we as professionals are being paid to taste wine and judge quality.

What determines quality in wine? What are the criteria for judging it? How does one develop the experience necessary to be able to competently judge wine quality? Following are some answers to all the above.   

Wine Quality Defined

Judging wine quality is comprised of several basic but important factors: balance, typicity, context, and previous experience. Here’s how they break down.

Balance

If the wine displays harmony among all its elements, it’s said to be balanced. Most of these elements have to do with a wine’s structure, as in the levels of alcohol, acid, phenolic bitterness, and tannin. If one or more sticks out like the proverbial sore thumb, the wine isn’t balanced and probably lacking in quality. For example, if a wine is over ripe and lacks acidity, it’s poorly balanced and lacks quality. Likewise, if a wine is too tannic or oaky, it’s also not well-balanced and probably—but not always--of lesser quality. More about that in a moment.

Fruit plays an important role in balance as far as matching the level of acidity. For practically any white or pink wine (and for many minimally oaked or unoaked red wines) the fruit and acid must be balanced for the wine to be of any quality.  

A good example of fruit-acid balance in white wine comes from a memory of a tasting some years ago. In 2002 I was in in Germany with a group of MS colleagues. On the last morning of the trip we met at Weingut Franz Künstler in the Rheingau. If not familiar, winemaker Günter Künstler is one of the best in the Rheingau—and in Germany for that matter. He’s one of the few that makes both brilliant dry wines and fruity-styled wines with residual sugar. His noble sweet wines are also off the chart. Günter’s winery and vineyards lie at the eastern edge of the Rheingau in the village of Hochheim.

The tasting was amazing. Günter opened over 40 bottles for us in the form of five-year verticals of some of his best wines both dry and sweet. The wine of the visit for me was the 2001 Hochheimer Kirchenstück Spätlese Riesling. The wine had extraordinary intensity and depth, and the balance between the succulent sweet-tart fruit and high acidity was like a razor’s edge. It was just about perfect. The wine is still etched in my memory. I have since judged every non-Mosel Spätlese against it either consciously or unconsciously.
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One last note about balance. Context, which is discussed below, comes into play in that some wines of high quality aren’t balanced when young. Others, like Nebbiolo-based Barolo with its high tannin and high acidity, will never be balanced but can be outstanding--even world-class--in quality. 

Typicity

Typicity is a deceptively simple concept: That a wine should look, smell, and taste like a good example of its grape and origin. There are many factors that make a wine typical.

Color: Is the wine too light in color? Too deep in color? A young, un-oaked white wine should be pale straw in color vs. an older or oaked wine that’s yellow or even gold.

Aromatics: Lots of factors here including the ripeness and quality of the fruit, the presence or lack of important non-fruit markers (many of which are impact compounds or important varietal aromas and flavors), the presence of earth/mineral, and the use of oak. As I said, lots of factors.
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Purity of fruit: Regardless of price point, grape, or origin, a quality wine to me has a purity of fruit that is easy to recognize. Be it apple, lime, or whatever, the fruit in a wine of any quality always sings through the other aromatics and is easily identifiable.

Palate: Does the wine show appropriate fruit ripeness and structure levels? Or is it underripe, possibly meaning early harvesting or a cooler than usual vintage? A ripe or over-ripe wine signifies the opposite: late harvesting or a warmer than usual vintage. Connecting the dots between fruit quality/character and structure is also important. Finally, the length of the finish speaks to quality. The phrase “the longer the finish the better quality the wine” may be trite but there is something to a wine having length and persistence that is directly related to quality.

Complexity: Quality wines will often—but not always--show a good deal of complexity on nose and palate. Here I’m defining complexity in regards to the number of aromas and flavors in a wine combined with how much it evolves on the palate. However, complexity is not always so straightforward. Some wines don’t show complexity when young and only develop it over time with age. Other commercially-produced wines won’t ever show a good deal of complexity, but still show balance and typicity which can account for quality.  

In thinking about typicity, not long ago I tasted a Pouilly Fumé from the 2018 vintage. The first impression on the nose was of ripe, almost exotic fruit and a complete lack of the green quality (pyrazines) that’s an important marker for any Sauvignon Blanc-based wine. On the palate the wine lacked acidity and was clumsy. It could have been a Central Coast Chardonnay.

Why was the wine so different? Simple answer: the vintage. 2018 was a warmer than average year for the Central Vineyards in the Loire, hence the wine was far riper than usual with higher alcohol and markedly less acidity. However, was the wine still of quality? The answer was yes, but with a caveat: it was a well-made wine from a warm year but lacked important variety markers and therefore was atypical.

The opposite could also be true. Imagine a Cabernet Sauvignon from a well-known region from a cooler vintage. The wine could be lighter in color, red-fruit dominant, and have a pronounced green pyrazinic character. Not exactly typical, but the wine could still be balanced and the quality good.

Context

As with everything in wine, context is a huge factor when judging quality. It comes into play in any tasting experience in the form of the tasting environment, the taster, and the wine itself. Here are a few examples of how context can potentially impact judging quality when tasting.

The tasting environment: Including appropriate lighting, a good ambient temperature, lack of extraneous noise and odors, and good glassware.

The wine: Appropriate tasting temperature and free from faults. Also, the proper tasting order of wines i.e., tasting whites before reds, dry wines before sweet wines, and less tannic reds before tannic reds.

The taster: Taster, know theyself! Here I’m referring to the individual knowing their personal sensitivities to structural elements (i.e., high tannin) as well as being aware of personal likes, dislikes, and even biases. For example, someone may have a strong dislike for new oak in white wine. When asked to select high-end California Chardonnays for a restaurant list, they must be able to set personal bias aside and judge the wines in front of them for quality regardless of oak usage. Another example would be someone who considers the presence of Brettanomyces in any amount to be a fault. If they’re asked to taste through current releases of high-end Northern Rhône Syrah, they would need to be able put aside their Brett aversion to be able to do a credible job of selecting the best wines.
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Finally, wine price tier also figures into context. Is the wine a mass-produced commercial Chardonnay or a domain-bottled White Burgundy? Ultimately, it shouldn’t matter. A professional needs to have a frame of reference for both and to be able to judge quality without bias. 

Previous Experience

This is the one piece of the judging quality equation that cannot be hacked or faked. Previous experience is absolutely required to be able to judge quality. Knowing how typical examples of classic grapes and wines are supposed to look, smell, and taste can only be gained through a great deal of tasting experience. Add to that knowledge of vintage variations and specific producers whose wines are atypical but still of high quality.

Yes, it’s complicated. But after all, who said tasting was easy? To be any good at it one has to taste a lot of wine over a long duration of time. That brings up the question of how can one get the needed experience in order to be able to judge wine quality—regardless of type—at a professional level. Here are some suggestions:

• Taste with a group of other professionals regularly. Other palates and opinions can only expand your tasting universe.
• This may seem obvious, but taste good examples of classic grapes and wines regularly. Initially, don’t waste time tasting atypical wines.
• Mix blind tasting with non-blind tasting. Looking at labels when tasting helps make important memory connections.
• Go to as many trade events as you can—especially those that focus on top producers from a classic region or a consortium of top producers. Taste carefully, listen, and take copious notes. Then read your notes later and try to remember the best wines from that particular tasting in as much detail as possible. Do this a couple of times in the following 24-48 hours after the tasting.
• Take a class on wine faults. It will prove invaluable. Also read up on wine faults and be able to explain why so many of them are contextual.
• Periodically taste lower tier mass-produced commercial wines so you have a clue about them. This includes White Zinfandel and box wines. Don’t lose touch with these wines because at some point in your career you’ll have to deal with them. Tasting these wines on a semi-regular basis will help you establish--and maintain--a frame of reference of how good examples in the category should taste. I also recommend tasting commercial and domain wines next to each from time to time. Carefully analyze what defines quality in each category.

Ultimately your goal is to be able to pick up a glass of wine regardless of the environment or distractions (as in, all hell breaking loose around you) and be able to quickly and completely assess it, provide an opinion about the wine’s quality, and be able to explain it. The total analysis may only take 30-45 seconds, but years of previous experience are required to be able to make the right call. This doesn’t happen overnight. It happens one glass at a time. 

Structure in wine is important--really important. By structure I mean the levels of alcohol, acidity, phenolic bitterness (white wines), and tannin (red wines). Personally, I think a wine’s structure is its very bones. It also speaks to grape variety, place of origin, climate, timing of harvest, winemaking techniques, and so much more.

It’s no surprise that assessing structure accurately and consistently is a necessity for becoming a professional taster. It’s also key for being able to judge wine quality at any level. For the student, what’s necessary is to first be able to first separate the physical sensations of the different structural elements on the palate. Then over time, to be able to quickly and consistently assess structural levels and, later, connect the dots between structure and the overall character of the wine.

One such example is making the connection between high alcohol, restrained acidity (and possible acidulation), and ripe-raisinated fruit in a Barossa Shiraz. Or the high acidity, restrained alcohol and tart fruit in a Chianti Classico.  

Everything I’ve just described requires time and experience. But to get started, here are the structural elements defined, as well as some basic strategies to practice tasting for them.  

Alcohol

Definition:
Ethanol alcohol in wine is a product of fermentation. The alcohol level in table wines ranges between 5.5% to over 16%.

What does it smell like?
Alcohol in wine is odorless but perceived as heat on the nose. However, smelling jammy or raisinated fruit can and should create expectations for high alcohol on the palate of a wine.

What does it taste like?
Alcohol is tasteless, but as just mentioned, wines with high alcohol content have ripe, jammy fruit and lower natural acidity. Wines with less alcohol have higher natural acidity, less ripe fruit, and are tart on the palate.

What does it feel like?
Elevated alcohol can give wine a fuller body as well a richer texture on the palate. High alcohol can also give the illusion of sweetness on the palate.

How do I check for it?
After spitting the wine out, say the letter “O” and inhale (remember, AFTER spitting out the wine). Note the sensation of warmth or heat perceived in the bridge of the nose, the mouth, throat, and even chest cavity if the alcohol is high.

Connecting the dots:
High alcohol means that the grapes used to produce the wine were ripe or even over-ripe. Thus, a high alcohol wine will show ripe, jammy, or even raisinated fruit as well as lower natural acidity. Also, a high-alcohol wine will commonly be acidulated with tartaric acid.

Reference wines:
Low alcohol white wines: Moscato di Asti (semi-sparkling), Riesling (Mosel),
High alcohol white wines: New World Chardonnay, New World Viognier, Southern Rhône Marsanne blends

Acidity

Definition:
There are four primary acids found in grapes: tartaric, malic, lactic, and citric. Tartaric acid, by far, is the most important as gives both grapes and wine balance and potential to age. It decreases as grapes ripen. If lacking, it needs to be added to the must during fermentation or the wine before bottling. Powdered tartaric acid derived from grapes is the most common acid additive.

What does it smell like?
Acidity doesn’t smell like anything. However, smelling tart or under ripe fruit can and should create expectations for high acidity in a wine.

What does it taste like?
Easily said: Acidity tastes sour.

What does it feel like?
On the palate, acidity is sensed by increased saliva production and activity in the salivary glands. High acidity is also often felt in the front of the mouth on tongue, teeth, and gums.

How do I check for it? 
Pay close attention to your salivary glands and saliva production after spitting out the wine. If in doubt, take a sip of water and note the complete lack of acidity as compared to the wine.

Connecting the dots:
It all goes back to place. Cooler climate places produce high acid-lower alcohol wines because the grapes don’t completely ripen. Generally, cool climate wines often have less depth of color and offer more savory character when compared to wines made from grapes grown in warmer climates that have higher alcohol, riper fruit, and less natural acidity.
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Reference wines:
Lower acid wines: Gewurztraminer, Pinot Gris, Marsanne-Roussanne blends
High acid wines: Riesling, Melon, Chenin Blanc

Phenolic Bitterness

Definition:
For white wines only! Phenols are a large group of compounds found in grape skins and seeds. Note that tannins are part of the phenol family. In white wines, phenols are derived from the must being in contact with the skin before, during, or after fermentation. Phenolic bitterness is an important marker for many semi-aromatic and fully aromatic grapes.

What does it smell like?
Phenolic bitterness is odorless. However, smelling wines made from semi-aromatic and fully aromatic grapes with pronounced floral qualities can and should build expectations of phenolic bitterness on the palate.

What does it taste like?
As implied, phenolic bitterness taste bitter. It’s often described as “almond skin bitterness” on the finish of a wine.

What does it feel like?
In any quantity, phenolic bitterness feels astringent on the palate—especially on the finish of the wine.  

Note! It’s important for the student to be able to separate phenolic bitterness from used oak in white wines. The latter is usually accompanied by other aromas and flavors from oak aging.

How do I check for it?
The best way to experience phenolic bitterness is to taste a wine made from a fully-aromatic grape like Gewürztraminer. Take a sip and hold the wine on your palate for about 10 seconds before spitting it out. Better yet, take a small sip and swallow while paying close attention to the bitter taste and touch of grittiness on the finish of the wine.

Connecting the dots:
Perceiving phenolic bitterness on the palate signals a semi-aromatic or fully aromatic white grape which can be connected to the overt floral qualities stemming from terpenes. The two are often found together.

Reference wines:
Low phenolic bitterness wines: Chardonnay, Melon
High phenolic bitterness wines: Torrontés, Gewürztraminer, Viognier

Tannin

Definition:
For red wines only! Tannin, or tannic acid, is derived from grape skins or oak barrels in which red wine is often aged. Powdered tannin is also commonly added to red wine during various stages of the winemaking process.

What does it smell like?
Tannin is odorless. However, a deeply colored red wine with ripe fruit and aromas of oak aging should create expectations of elevated tannin.

What does it taste like?
In any quantity, tannin tastes bitter like overly brewed tea.

What does it feel like?
Tannin feels astringent and even gritty on the palate. It’s important to note the difference between grape and oak tannin in regards to their sensory “location” on the palate. It varies with the individual. For me, grape tannins are perceived in the front of the mouth and oak tannins in the back. It’s useful to be able to separate the two.

Reference wines:
Low tannin wines: Gamay, Pinot Noir
High tannin wines: Cabernet Sauvignon, Barolo, Aglianico

Working with Structure

Following are strategies for practicing tasting for structure. Gaining experience and accuracy in structural assessment again takes time and a lot of practice—just like everything else in tasting!

Get a Coravin: A Coravin is by far the most useful wine accessory there is for tasting practice. Using a Coravin will allow you to buy best examples of wines and to taste them repeatedly over a period of time, thereby saving you thousands of dollars on wine purchases.

Taste wines in pairs: Our brains learn easily with binary. Practice tasting wines in twos. Then do the following.

Calibrate structure using extremes: One of the easiest ways to learning consistent calibration of structural elements is by comparative tasting that uses extremes. Using a Coravin, here are suggested pairs of wines that show extremes in structure. Taste for one structural element at a time. And remember—only two wines at a time!

• Alcohol - low vs. high: Mosel Riesling vs. high alcohol Napa Valley Chardonnay
• Acidity - low vs. high: Alsace Gewurztraminer vs. Clare Valley Riesling
• Phenolic bitterness - low vs. high: Chablis AC vs. Alsace Gewurztraminer
• Tannin - low vs. high: Beaujolais Villages vs. Barolo

​Cause & Effect: Memorize the cause and effect behind each criteria of the tasting grid, especially in regards to fruit quality and ripeness levels as they relate to structural levels. Connect the dots from color to fruit ripeness to acid and alcohol.

Write personal grape variety descriptions: There are several sources of grape variety descriptions, including this blog. That said, I highly recommend writing your own as there will doubtless be markers for various grape varieties that are unique to you. Make sure to include structural levels in your descriptions. 
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Cheers!

One of my core beliefs about wine is that it’s the great connector--it connects us to each other in ways that no other thing, substance, or small household appliance does. That for thousands of years, since the time primitive man first started decanting wine for aeration purposes, we humans have shared meals with members of our clan. Nothing could be truer in my life. 

I grew up in a household with six kids in the 1960’s. Dinner time could only be described as barely controlled chaos. With four boys swimming in a morass of testosterone it was not uncommon to have a dinner roll ka-tonked off the side of your head when you requested bread from the other end of the table. Asking for butter (which was actually margarine, of course), was likewise completely risky business.

In short, dinner was a Darwinian affair requiring cunning and dexterity. Any and everything was passed around the table only once. If you didn’t get enough on the first shot, you weren’t getting more. A gallon of milk barely made it around the table. The oldest three of us quickly figured out that the only way to get more was to pour your glass full, drink half of it, then refill before passing it on, causing an immediate firestorm of protest from my younger brothers and sister. It was also imperative that you quickly identify and skewer the biggest-ass pork chop/ham slice/slice of meatloaf on the platter when it came your way because it was your one and only shot at sustenance for the evening.
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When my school mates joined for dinner, they were always a bit shaken by the carnal frenzy that defined our family meals. They soon learned to adapt or went home hungry. It’s also worth noting that my then future brother-in-law did not return to our house for over six months after his first Easter dinner at the Gaiser table. Enough said.

Eventually, with the patience of a saint and the aid of blunt instruments, my Mom managed to instill some semblance of table manners in the six of us. That in itself is a minor miracle. Beyond that, she also managed in a very sly way to instill the dining ritual in us as a family, and not because she and my Dad were raised in the European tradition of fine dining with candle lit extravaganzas and lengthy erudite conversations. That was as remote as the Dog Star. Instead, it was the mere act of gathering the entire herd once a day so we could sit down and have dinner. That even if all hell had broken loose during the previous 12 hours—and it often did--we had the certainty of knowing that we as a family would share a meal. 

​Years later when Carla and I first moved to the city and were both bartending, the dining ritual continued. On our rare nights off together, we either went out or stayed in and cooked dinner for one another. Explorations into the Byzantine menus of the now sadly long-gone Gourmet magazine often ensued with the kitchen getting completely trashed and us limping to the dinner table like stunned livestock after vigorous and sometimes pyrotechnic experiments in the kitchen.

The dining ritual continued unabated after our lives went from “man on man” to “zone” in terms of having kids. Looking back on those years, I’ve come to believe that one of the greatest things Carla and I have given our kids is the many years of the dining ritual. When it was dinnertime life came to a screeching halt. Once dinner was plated and hit the table, everyone gathered regardless of whatever else on the planet was going on. Maria, now out of grad school and working for the School of Public Health at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, has told me many times that the thing she misses most about home life is sharing dinner, especially the hours of hanging out at the table after dinner was over finishing a bottle of wine and chatting about everything under the sun.

Does the dining ritual guarantee a happy family or a long relationship-marriage? Not necessarily but it’s a primo opportunity to spend time with your partner and family. And that’s not a bad thing. It’s worked for Carla and me for over 40 years. It might just work for you. Finally, I think that the dining ritual is especially important now with the pandemic. Sheltering in place means we need connection and community more than ever. Sharing a meal and a bottle of wine is not only sustenance--it’s a much-needed balm for the soul. I hope everyone reading this missive is able to do just that on a regular basis.

Cheers—and stay safe! 

"Baseball is 90% mental. The other half is physical."

Yogi Berra

In deductive tasting, the sensory evaluation sequence when one gathers as information about a wine’s appearance, aroma, and palate is only part of the equation. What’s equally important, arguably even more important, is to be able to put all the information together in a meaningful way to come up with a logical conclusion. To point, many times I’ve sat across a table from a student listening to them describe a wine in detail only to, in the words of the all-knowing Bugs Bunny, take a left turn at Albuquerque with a conclusion that makes absolutely no sense. It’s as if the student either didn’t listen to themself while describing the wine or they couldn’t connect the dots and come up with a grape and region that matches the information found in the glass.

Enter the decision matrix. The matrix is a series of mini if-then evaluations that a taster can use when examining a wine to help to come up with a good conclusion. For example, looking at a glass of red wine that’s lighter in color can quickly build expectations of a thinner-skinned grape variety grown in a cooler climate with red fruit dominating nose and palate as well as the finished wine having less alcohol, higher natural acidity, and moderate tannins. You get the idea. 

While there are exceptions to all the so-called rules below, the matrix will provide a foundation for you to build on. Remember that there is no replacement for knowing key markers for classic grapes and wines. Mastery of these is absolutely required to become an experienced taster. Finally, the matrix is intended as a starting point for anyone to use and then to go on and develop their own personal version. With that, read on, explore, and enjoy.

Sight

Color: White Wines

• Light or pale color:
  • Youth
  • Cooler climate
  • Cooler vintage
  • Reductive winemaking
  • Lack of new oak aging

 

• Deep yellow or gold color:
  • Warmer climate
  • Warmer vintage
  • Oxidative winemaking
  • Overall age
  • Extended new oak aging
  • Botrytis-affected fruit
  • Extended skin contact

 

• Green secondary color:
  • Cooler climate
  • Cooler vintage
  • Youth

 
Color: Red Wines

• Lighter color:
  • Thinner-skinned grape
  • Cooler climate
  • Cooler vintage
  • Red fruit dominant wine
  • Less overall ripeness of fruit
  • Higher natural acidity
  • Lower alcohol

 

• Garnet color:
  • Overall age and degree of oxidation
  • Oxidative winemaking
  • Extended oak aging

 

• Deeper color:
  • Thicker-skinned grape
  • Warmer climate
  • Warmer vintage
  • Dark fruit dominant wine
  • Riper fruit qualities
  • Lower natural acidity (possible acidulation)
  • Higher alcohol
  • Possible higher tannin

 
Rim variation

• Pink or purple color:
  • Youth
  • Lack of extended new oak aging

 

• Salmon – orange – yellow – brown:
  • Overall level of oxidation
  • Oxidative winemaking
  • Extended oak aging
  • Oxidative grape variety

 

• Legs/tearing
  • Quickly forming, thinner, and quickly moving tears/legs =
  • Cooler climate
  • Cooler vintage
  • Lower alcohol
  • Lower dry extract
  • Higher natural acidity
  • Lack of residual sugar

 

• Slower forming, thicker, and slower moving tears/legs:
  • Warmer climate
  • Warmer vintage
  • Higher alcohol
  • Lower acidity (possible acidulation)
  • Higher dry extract
  • Possible presence of residual sugar
  • Possible fortification

 

• Staining of the tears in red wine:
  • Thicker-skinned grape
  • Concentrated wine
  • Possible warmer climate
  • Higher dry extract

Nose

Faults/wine hygiene

• Brettanomyces
  • Possible Old World growing region
  • High pH wine from warmer growing region
  • Minimal winemaking

 

• Volatile acidity:
  • Possible Old World growing region
  • Minimal winemaking
  
  

Fruit

• Fruit-dominant:
  • New World region
  • New World style

 

• Lack of overt fruit:
  • Old World region
  • Old World style

 

• Fresh, vibrant fruit:
  • Youth
  • Lack of oak influence

 

• Dried or preserved fruit:
  • Wine with age

 

• Abundance of riper fruit:
  • Warmer region
  • Warmer vintage

 

• Abundance of tart and otherwise unripe fruit:
  • Cooler growing region
  • Cooler vintage

 
Red wine

• Abundance of tart or under ripe red fruits:
  • Thinner-skinned grape
  • Cooler growing region
  • Cooler vintage
  
  
• Abundance of darker riper fruit:
  • Thicker-skinned grape
  • Warmer growing region
  • Warmer vintage

​Non-fruit characteristics

• Dominant floral notes:
  • Aromatic grape (Gewürztraminer, Muscat, Viognier, etc.)

 

• Herbal-vegetal notes (pyrazines):
  • Cabernet Sauvignon family grape including Sauvignon Blanc

 

• Pepper (rotundone):
  • Rhone grape variety (Syrah, Grenache, Mourvèdre), Zinfandel, and Grüner Veltliner for white

Earth-mineral qualities

• Pronounced earth and mineral qualities:
  • Old World region
  • Old World style

 

• Lack of overt earth and mineral qualities:
  • New World region
  • New World style

Oak

• Dominant oak usage:
  • New World region
  • New World style

 

• Used or neutral oak character:
  • Old World region
  • Old World style

Palate: Structure
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Acidity

• Higher natural acidity:
  • Cooler climate region
  • Cooler vintage

 

• Lower natural acidity:
  • Warmer climate region
  • Warmer vintage

 

• Acidulation/acidification:
  • Warmer climate
  • Warmer vintage
  • New World region
  • New World style

Alcohol

• Lower alcohol:
  • Cooler growing region
  • Cooler vintage
  • Possible Old World region or style

 

• Higher alcohol:
  • Warmer growing region
  • Warmer vintage
  • Possible New World region or style

Phenolic bitterness (white wine)

• Little or no phenolic bitterness:
  • Non-aromatic grape variety

 

• Medium or higher phenolic bitterness:
  • Semi-aromatic or fully aromatic grape variety

Tannin (red wine)

• Lower tannin:
  • Thinner-skinned grape variety
  • Less new oak usage
  • Possible cooler climate region

 

• Higher tannin:
  • Thicker-skinner grape variety
  • More new oak usage
  • Possible warmer climate region

Finish

• Shorter finish:
  • Lesser quality wine
  • Less complex wine

 

• Longer finish:
  • Better quality wine
  • More complex wine

Conclusion
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• Old World or Old World style wine:
  • Less overt fruit qualities
  • More earth and mineral qualities
  • High natural acidity from cooler growing region
  • Lower alcohol from cooler growing region
  • Less new oak usage
  • Less winemaking influence

 

• New World or New World style wine:
  • More overt fruit qualities
  • Less earth and mineral qualities
  • Lower natural acidity from warmer growing region
  • Possible acidulation because of warmer growing region
  • Higher alcohol from warmer growing region
  • More new oak usage
  • More winemaking influence

I originally published this post almost five years ago. Since then I’ve come to believe that the concept of “cause and effect” is one of the very cornerstones in the process of becoming a good professional taster. For the record, the others are impact compounds and accurate/consistent assessment of structural elements. With that in mind, here is an updated version of my post from September of 2015. Hope you enjoy it.

Cause and Effect: The “Why” Behind Deductive Tasting

Anyone who’s had the pleasure of entertaining a three-year-old for any length of time knows the exquisite torture they can inflict by asking an endless series of “why” questions. One’s patience can only be tested so long before the inevitable and curt, “because I said so” puts an end to it. Beyond random acts of parenting, “why” questions have always seemed problematic to me because they potentially create endless loop communication. Why? Because at some point there may not be a reason why!

However, why questions are valuable in the context of deductive tasting. They speak to cause and effect in terms of why a wine looks, smells, and tastes the way it does. These cause and effect relationships are both useful and valuable for the student learning about classic grapes and wines in their tasting practice. Here are potential cause-effect relationships for all the criteria in the deductive tasting grid.

Sight

Sight is the most overlooked aspect of tasting. I realize this may seem like an irritating pun, but it’s all too true as far as cause and effect is concerned. With experience, a quick look at a glass of wine—especially red wine—can and should build multiple expectations on the part of the taster in regards to the possible grape variety, fruit profile, structural elements, and the use of oak. Here is the “sight” portion of the deductive grid broken down into cause and effect elements.

Clarity: Is a result of fining and filtration during the latter stages of the winemaking process. The clarity scale ranges from a cloudy wine that’s completely unfined and unfiltered to a crystal clear wine that’s put through considerable fining and filtration—and everything in between.

Brightness: Brightness in wine—especially in white wines—is a function of clarity, which is a direct result of the degree of fining and filtration. The brightness level in a red wine is also determined by the depth of pigmentation in various grape varieties.  Thinner-skinned, lighter-pigmented grapes such as Pinot Noir and Gamay will reflect far more light than Syrah or Cabernet Sauvignon.

Intensity of color: In white wines, the intensity of color can be the result of the climate of origin (fruit ripeness level) as well as the age or level of oxidation in the wine due to use of oak or time in bottle. Botrytis-affected fruit or extended skin contact can also play a role in a deeper-colored white wine. With red wines, intensity of color is largely due to the depth of pigmentation in a specific variety and likewise the age and oxidation of the given wine.

Primary color: The base color of a white wine—be it straw, yellow, gold, or brown—is largely determined by the degree of oxidation during winemaking or the time spent in barrel or bottle. Skin contact and the presence of botrytis can also contribute to a deeper color. The primary color in red wine—purple, ruby (red) or garnet (reddish brown) --is again determined by the depth of pigmentation of the specific grape (Pinot Noir vs. Syrah), age, or level of oxidation.

Secondary colors: In white wines the color green can signify either youth and/or a wine produced from grapes grown in a cooler climate. The colors platinum, silver, and unpolished brass often accompany the color green in a young white wine. In red wines secondary colors usually refer to rim variation (see below).

Rim variation: Is a term used to denote the color differentiation between wine in the center/core of the glass and wine at the edge/rim. The cause has to do with the amount of pigmentation in the specific grape, climate of origin, the ripeness level of fruit at harvest, and age of the wine. Generally, the older the wine, the more rim variation and the more evolved the color at the edge/rim of the glass. It’s important to note that rim variation is not significant for white wines.

Sediment: Sediment in a glass of red wine is due to either age (pigments and tannins precipitating out of solution) or non-filtration in the case of a younger wine. Tartrates, or tartaric acid crystals, in either white or red wine are the result of the wine not having been cold stabilized or having been minimally fined and filtered. 

Gas: Bubbles in a glass of wine can be a product of primary fermentation, malolactic fermentation/conversion, or from CO2 added to the wine as a preservative at the time of bottling.

Tears/legs: While often debated and certainly not exact science, the tears/legs in a glass of wine are a first indication of the possible level of alcohol or the presence of residual sugar. Thin, quickly moving tears often show a lower alcohol level and/or the lack of residual sugar in a wine. By contrast, thick, slowly moving tears are commonly associated with higher levels of alcohol and the possible presence of residual sugar.
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Staining of the tears: In red wine, staining of the tears is a result of the depth of pigmentation in the specific grape as well as elevated levels of dry extract in the wine (dissolved solids in solution). Dry extract is further related to lower yields, age of vines, and the degree of fining/filtration used during winemaking. 

Nose

The aroma of a wine is derived from a myriad of influences, including the specific grape variety, climate of origin, harvest timing, and any number of winemaking practices. Here is the “nose” portion of the grid broken down into cause and effect elements.

Fault factor: Does the wine smell clean and well-made or does it contain one or more common wine faults? These include TCA (from faulty corks or contaminated tanks or barrels), high VA (Volatile Acidity from a problematic fermentation), Brettanomyces (barrel or winery hygiene issues), sulfur aromas such as H2S or mercaptan (fermentation issues), or excess SO2 added at the time of bottling.  

Intensity of aroma: The overall intensity of aroma can be related to the specific grape variety, the climate of origin (ripeness levels), structural elements (high alcohol), and winemaking influence in the form of malolactic fermentation, oak usage, and more.

Age: Indicators of age in a wine are due to oxidative winemaking (extensive racking, not topping up, etc.), extended wood-aging, or time in bottle.

Primary and secondary fruit: Specific kinds of fruit smelled in wine are derived from esters and other aromatic compounds that result from fermentation. The condition of the grape (i.e., botrytis) at harvest can also play a part.

Quality of fruit: The quality of the fruit, be it tart, ripe, or jammy, is the result of the climate of origin, specific harvest year (warm vintage etc.), harvest timing (late harvest, passito etc.), and the overall age/oxidation of the wine.

Non-fruit: Is derived from certain compounds found in grapes, the condition of the grapes (botrytis) at harvest, fermentation, or from the winemaking techniques (ML, lees contact, etc.).

Inorganic earth: While it continues to be a subject of debate in some circles, recent science has shown how the relationship between the microbiome and yeast population in vineyard soils affect fermentation resulting in compounds in the finished wine that are perceived as—and called--“earth and mineral.”

Organic earth: Same as above. The presence of Brettanomyces and/or Dekkora in a wine derived from the vineyard soil or the winery environment should also be considered as a possible cause of earthiness.
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Wood: The use of oak during fermentation and aging can lend a wide range of aromas to wine, including vanilla (vanillin) brown spices, coffee, tea, chocolate, toast, smoke, dill and more. The age, size, and type of barrel all play an important role in the intensity of oak influence. 

Palate

Oddly enough, actually tasting a wine in the context of the deductive process only has two purposes: to confirm what has already been smelled and to determine the level of structural elements, including acid, alcohol, tannin, and phenolic bitterness. Here is the “palate” grid broken down into cause and effect elements.

Sweetness/dryness: Wine is fermented completely dry or can contain a varying amount of residual sugar due to the fermentation having been stopped. The latter is accomplished by a number of winemaking practices, including sterile filtration, the addition of SO2, or fortification.

Body: In wine is determined by a number of factors, including the level of alcohol/glycerin in the wine (due to the degree of fruit ripeness at harvest) and the level of dry extract (particulate matter in solution). Dry extract levels are further determined by the quality of fruit and the degree of fining and filtration the wine undergoes before bottling. High levels of residual sugar can also lend a fuller body to a wine.

Fruit: Specific kinds of fruit smelled in wine are derived from esters and other aromatic compounds naturally found in grapes, as well as the result of fermentation. The condition of the grapes at harvest (botrytis) can also play a part.

Quality of fruit: Often changes from nose to palate and is again determined by the ripeness level of fruit at harvest, the specific harvest year (warm vintage etc.), harvest timing (late harvest, passito etc.), and the overall age or oxidation of the wine.

Inorganic/organic earth: As described above, earth and mineral aromas and flavors in wine are the result of how the microbiome and yeast population in vineyard soil affect fermentation and ultimately chemical compounds in the finished wine. The possibility of Brett as a factor for earthiness must again be considered.

Oak: Flavors from the use of oak during fermentation and/or aging.

Alcohol: The alcohol level is a product of the ripeness of fruit at harvest or other means used to either increase grape sugar (chaptalization) prior to fermentation. Methods such as adding water to the must (or wine), cross-flow filtration, and reverse osmosis can be used to decrease alcohol in the finished wine.

Acidity: The acidity level is a result of the ripeness of fruit/level at harvest or the addition of tartaric acid to the must or finished wine before bottling.

Tannin: Is derived from grape skins through pre-fermentation maceration, during fermentation, and post-fermentation maceration. It can be increased by the addition of press wine. Cooperage also plays an important role in the level of tannin in a wine in regards to the duration of time wine is kept in barrel, the size and type of cask, and the percentage of new vs. used oak used. Finally, powdered tannin is also commonly added at several different stages during the fermentation and aging of red wine.

Phenolic bitterness: Bitter phenolic compounds in white wines are developed when the must is in contact with grape skins before, during, or after fermentation. 

Finish: The length and quality of the finish is determined by the quality of the fruit, the intensity and level of structural elements (alcohol, acidity, tannin, and phenolic bitterness), and winemaking practices such as ML, lees contact, the use of oak, and more.
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Complexity: Although arguably the most subjective aspect the deductive grid and process, the degree of complexity is determined by a combination of fruit and vineyard quality, quality of the vintage/harvest, and winemaker's skill--or lack thereof.

Conclusion

After collecting all the “evidence” seen, smelled, and tasted in a wine, the conclusion is based on previous memory and experience. Here cause and effect still play a vital role in deductive thinking in terms of determining Old vs. New World style, grape variety, origin of the wine, level of quality, and the vintage. Here is the “conclusion” grid—both initial and final-- broken down into cause and effect elements.

Initial Conclusion

Old World Style vs. New World Style: Is primarily influenced by the specific location of the vineyard, be it in Europe or a New World country such as Australia. Winemaking techniques, such as blending different appellations and/or grape varieties, high alcohol, excessive oak, and considerable filtration can also play a part in influencing or obscuring style.

Climate: The specific location of the vineyard (cool vs. warm climate) and given conditions of a certain growing year (warmer vintage).

Grape variety: Assessing the possible grape variety involves using common markers for classic grapes including compounds such pyrazines (Cabernet family grapes including Sauvignon Blanc), rotundone (Syrah and Grüner Veltliner), and more.

General age: Determined by the overall degree of oxidation (or lack of) perceived in the wine.

Final Conclusion

Grape variety(s): Taken from common markers and factors perceived in the wine.

Country, region, appellation (if applicable): The specific origin of the wine.

Quality level: Balance and typicity of the wine as well as the origin and respective laws if applicable.

Vintage: The quality of the wine as related to specific vintage character and attributes (ripeness, structural elements).

Final thoughts

As with learning deductive tasting, getting familiar with the concept of cause and effect and how it applies to the deductive grid is something that takes time and a good deal of practice. I recommend “chunking” it down into groups of three-to-five bits so it can more easily be learned and used. I also recommend cornering a friend or family member and, with glass of wine in hand, explain cause and effect to them. If you can do that, you absolutely know it and will never forget it.

Cheers!

*A note about the art work in this post. Painter and photographer Diana LoMeiHing was born in Hong Kong and moved to Italy at the age of ten. In 1978 she graduated with honors in painting at the Brera Academy of Fine Arts in Milan. She has exhibited in solo and collective exhibitions in galleries in Italy and internationally since 1979.