Dateline March 20th on BBC Online:

“The human nose can detect one trillion different odors, far more than we previously thought, say US scientists.”

Back story: for the better part of the last 15 or more years the Deductive Tasting PPT segment in the MS Introductory class stated that while people can only taste five things (sweet, sour, bitter, salty and umami), they are capable of smelling over 10,000 things.  That number was updated to 100,000 things at some point around the year 2002 and then 114,000 a few years later.  While you may be tempted to think human evolution has skyrocketed in the last few years what with the advent of social media and all, it’s probably more like the equipment used to measure pertinent data is capable of more accurate and/or complex calibration.  By the way, we need to add kokumi and fat to the five tastes above with the latter explaining our fixation with bacon.

But new estimates published in Science magazine earlier this year suggest that the human nose far outdoes the eyes and ears in terms of how many different stimuli it can distinguish.  Scientists at Rockefeller University used 128 different olfactory molecules ranging from fruits to herbs and beyond.  The molecules were randomly blended into “cocktails” of 10-30 aromatics to come up with new olfactory combinations.  From there the study participants were asked to identify a specific aromatic from three samples of which only two contained the aromatic.  Using the results the scientists extrapolated that the average person can smell at least one trillion different odors. By the way, my definition for the term extrapolation is using multiplication to make an ordinary thing as incomprehensible as possible.

Study co-author Dr Leslie Vosshall wrote that animals remain two or three times better than humans at smelling as more of their brain is devoted to olfactory. She was also quoted saying, 

"You can push the sense of smell to work harder - you can get bigger and crazier, more intense perfumes," she added. "We are using a tiny part of our olfactory powers."

I would slightly disagree in that I think it’s not just physically smelling involved but our thinking as well. Thus we need to push our brains/memories harder and that doesn’t necessary involve tasting with wine in hand.  Further, Charles Spence, a professor of experimental biology at Oxford, was quoted on the study as saying:

"I guess no matter how many smells we can discriminate, the evidence still shows that even the best experts cannot really pull much more than three odourants out of a mixture, contrary to what all those wordy wine writers might have us believe."

Ahem.  Aside from what is otherwise a snarky remark I would like to remind the good Professor Spencer that anyone who uses the M.S. deductive tasting grid with any sense of proficiency has to pull more than three things out of a glass—as in a lot more than three things.  Context, as always, is the last word.

While the subject of olfactory deservedly attracts top scientists and studies in every effort to quantify and make it objective, at the end of the day the results of any study are based on the ability of participants to recognize aromas which in turn is based personal memory and interpretation of those memories over time--not exactly hard science.

So what does the study mean to us wine professionals? That the human being can potentially smell exponentially far more aromatics that will ever be present in a glass of wine.  And to always be careful when extrapolating.

Relevant? Only if you have a Negroni in hand …

Fall semester of my undergrad sophomore year.  Karl Hinterbichler, trombone professor and my brass quintet coach at the University of New Mexico (UNM), suggests I attend the workshop to be given by members of the Beaux Arts Trio the following day.  Mind you I’m a 19-year-old trumpet geek with little if any familiarity of classical music that doesn’t involve brass instruments and perilously high volume. Such is the folly of youth … As much as I protest Hinterbichler finally insists that I go, threatening some vague form of punitive action if I don’t show up.  The next morning I sulked in shortly before start time as Lenny Felberg, the UNM violin professor, practically fell over himself introducing the three members of the trio to the large gathering: Menahem Pressler on piano, Isadore Cohen on violin, and Bernard Greenhouse on cello.  In addition to the three regulars a fourth, Walter Trampler on viola, was also introduced and for good reason; the trio had just recorded the Brahms piano quartets and was performing them on tour. 

After preliminary remarks the four guests split up into different rooms to conduct seminars for the students.  I managed to see bits of all four sessions and was immediately impressed by the level of coaching but even more impressed when each of the pros went to their respective instruments and ripped off the most difficult passage of whatever the poor student was struggling with at the moment. This, I thought, was brilliant stuff.  To be sure there were outstanding people on the UNM faculty but nothing compared to the coaching and playing I was observing.  It would only get better. 

At the end of the sessions the entire group reassembled in the original rehearsal studio for Q&A and closing remarks.  I got there early and found a seat next to the piano eager to glean anything else I possibly could.  After taking questions the four turned to each other and agreed to play something for us.  They decided on the last movement of the Brahms g-minor quartet, Op. 25, titled “Rondo alla Zingarese.” The movement, nicknamed “gypsy rondo,” can only be described as virtuosic and is usually performed at light speed.  Menahem Pressler sat down at the piano literally an arm’s length away from me.  I clearly remember him smiling at me, opening the music to the appropriate page, and then lightning striking.  What followed was like being at ground zero next to a world class pianist kicking ass on an incredibly difficult piece.  But it wasn’t just Pressler, it was the energy and playing of the entire group not to mention some of the most amazing music I’d ever heard.  I’m quite sure I listened to the entire eight minutes of the movement with my mouth agape. It goes without saying that later that evening I weaseled my way into the recital hall sans ticket where the group performed not one but all three of the Brahms piano quartets.  

The next day I found myself in Hinterbichler’s office blathering away like an idiot in much the same crazed fashion as a groupie stumbling upon all the members of their favorite band in an all-night diner.  Hinterbichler smiled and listened patiently. Much to his credit he never once said anything remotely close to, “I told you so.”  From then on music would never be the same.  I had crossed over from impact to nuance and in doing so discovered an entirely new universe of incredible music I never knew existed.  In wine-speak, I had been transfixed by my first great Burgundy or German Riesling experience and big-ass Cabernets and Zinfandels would no longer do the trick.

What is chamber music? The genre traces its roots back to the middle ages when instruments were largely used to accompany singers.  Over the next several centuries compositions, both sacred and secular (secular as in not based on religious text), were written for small groups of instruments. At the same time playing instruments among friends and family in the home also grew in popularity.  The high point of chamber music writing began with classical composers such as Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven.  It continued in the 19th century with romantic era composers like Brahms and Tchaikovsky and on into the 20th century with works by Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Hindemith and more.  It continues to this day. In terms of instrumentation chamber music is usually scored for less than 10 players and most often makes use of piano and string instruments (violin, viola, cello and infrequently bass).  Wind instruments—both woodwinds and brass—are often scored for as well. 

Back to school: the following year I took a chamber music class with Dr. Susan Patrick and immersed myself in the works on the required list.  I bought multiple records (yes, records) of the best pieces and memorized them. I came to believe—and still do—that many of the great composers saved their best stuff for smaller chamber works and no surprise given that keyboard was the primary instrument for practically all of them.  Today, decades later, I continue to listen to recordings of chamber music almost daily.  Here is a list of my personal favorite works and favorite recordings.  I’ve chosen the pieces carefully wary of flagging attention spans due to an overdose of social media and technology overwhelm.  But you’ll find that all are beautiful works that will handsomely reward taking the time to listen. 

Brahms Piano Quartets and Piano Quintet

It’s only fitting that the three Brahms piano quartets are first on my list given they were such a formative experience for me.  As mentioned above, I think Brahms’ best work involves piano and the piano quartets and the piano quintet make a strong argument for just that.  In particular, the gypsy rondo movement from the g-minor quartet mentioned above, the gorgeous slow movement from the A-major quartet, and the entire c-minor quartet are superb music.  Brahms’ scoring is so complex and dense it’s hard to believe that you’re just listening to four performers instead of a chamber orchestra.  No surprise that the Beaux Arts Trio is my absolute favorite recording of the works despite owning another half dozen versions.  You should also check out the excellent recording with Artur Rubenstein on piano and members of the Guarneri Quartet.  Also give the Brahms Piano Quintet (for piano and string quartet as in two violins, viola and cello) a listen; the version with Italian pianist Maurizio Pollini and the Quartetto Italiano is my favorite recording.

Mendelssohn Octet for Strings in E-flat, Op. 20

Felix Mendelssohn’s string octet in e-flat was written when the composer was just 16 years old.  The work calls for two string quartets but the scoring is closer to that of a string orchestra. The four movements are filled with beautiful melodies, clever invention, and clever orchestration. This is one of my very favorite chamber works and the recording on the Phillips label with the Italian group I Musici is phenomenal.  Also look for the recording by the Cleveland and Meliora Quartets on Telarc.

Beethoven: Archduke Trio Op. 97 & String Quartet No. 13 in B-flat, op. 130

Beethoven wrote a great deal of chamber music to match his nine brilliant symphonies.  In particular, the string quartets and piano trios written late in his career are widely considered to be among the best chamber compositions of any kind ever written.  It’s difficult to single just out a few works but two stand out for me: the piano trio Op. 97 called “Archduke” and the string quartet no. 13 in B-flat, op. 130.  The Archduke is a great example of Beethoven’s mature writing for chamber ensemble.  The piece is filled with deceptively simple and yet universally beautiful tunes.  In true Beethoven fashion the composer immediately sets to tearing the melodies apart until just simple fragments remain only to reassemble them in a new form.  Know that no one has ever done that better or quite like Beethoven.  The slow movement, Andante Cantabile, is a simple theme and variations but utterly beautiful.  I have two favorite recordings of the Archduke: not surprisingly the Beaux Arts Trio play the work flawlessly and with great skill and polish.  I also love the recording by the Suk Trio on the Denon label. 

Beethoven’s Op. 130 is the second of five late works that set a standard for string quartet writing that has never been surpassed. Breaking with the convention of four movements Beethoven caps off Op. 130 with a monumental sixth movement called “Grosse Fuge,” or great fugue.  If not familiar, the fugue is a musical form based on theme and imitation that has existed since the early Baroque.  It was usually intended for keyboard and made justly famous by J.S. Bach.  But at the end of his life when Beethoven was completely deaf and slowly dying from syphilitic complications, the composer took the form and launched it far beyond the conventions of his time giving us glimpses of harmonies and writing that wouldn’t be heard again for almost a century.  Hearing the Grosse Fuge for the first time is often shocking to the listener because the work is so dissonant and filled with driving, seemingly unstoppable rhythms--not unlike Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring.  I think it’s curious that Beethoven chose to write his great fugue not for large orchestra but as the last movement of a string quartet.  You should also know that the Grosse Fuge was so controversial and poorly received that Beethoven actually withdrew it from the work after its first performance and wrote an alternate finale for the piece.  He would never hear the work in its finished form as it was first performed a month after his death.  Although the Grosse Fuge was published as a separate work it is usually now performed as part of the original composition.  I own several different recordings of the late Beethoven quartets but the versions by the Julliard Quartet and the Alban Berg Quartet are personal favorites. 

Schubert: String Quartet No. 14 in d-minor, “Death and the Maiden”

If I had to convince anyone of the merits of chamber music Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden” Quartet would be it.  I can’t think of a more tragically beautiful and engaging chamber work that immediately grips the full attention of the listener.  Schubert’s story is all the more remarkable.  In a short lifespan of less than 32 years the composer wrote over 600 songs, nine complete symphonies, various works for the church, opera, and a large collection of chamber works and solo piano music.  In particular the last five years of his life are unparalleled in terms of creative musical output.  His string quartet No. 14 is my favorite.  Schubert wrote the work in March of 1824 after a serious illness realizing that he was dying.  The piece is named for the theme and variations of the second movement taken from a lied (song) of the same name the composer wrote in 1817.  But the theme of death can be felt throughout the work in terms of the key--d-minor--and the intensity and pathos of the writing.  As for recordings, the versions by the Tokyo Quartet and Emerson Quartet are both outstanding.  A must listen!

Stravinsky: Octet for Winds

As a former trumpet player I had to include a non-string piece in the list and this was an easy choice.  Stravinsky’s wind octet was completed in 1923 and scored for flute, clarinet (in A and B-flat), two bassoons, two trumpets, tenor trombone, and bass trombone.  The work marks the beginning of the composer’s departure from what is now called the “Russian primitivism” of his early career to “neoclassicism” in which Stravinsky made use of harmonies, form and melodies from the classical period.  The composer conducted the premiere of the octet in October 1923 with immediate strong criticism from press and fellow composers alike.  The press called it “a mess of 18th-century mannerisms.” But to listen to the work now is to marvel at Stravinsky’s invention and ability to make use of older forms while remaining completely true to his own musical identity. 

As an aside, I included the Stravinsky Octet on the program for my senior recital at UNM.  I mention the two keys for clarinet above for good reason; the clarinetist who performed it on my recital left his A clarinet off stage and didn’t realize he’d done so until the beginning of the last movement which features a long solo for—you guessed it—the clarinet.  Needless to say, he couldn’t transpose his part down a half-step on the fly (which by the way either of us trumpet players could have done) and had to go off stage to retrieve his other clarinet.  In the meantime the work ground to a halt while we waited for him to return with his much-needed A clarinet so we could finish the piece.  It made for an interesting recording and I’m reminded of it every time I hear the work.  As for favorite professional recordings of the octet, the one by the Boston Chamber players on Deutsche Grammaphon is by far the best. It features Armando Ghitalla, with whom I studied in grad school, playing the first trumpet part.  I also highly recommend the recording with Stravinsky conducting the Columbia Chamber Orchestra.   

Mozart String: Quartets 20 and 21

Franz Josef Haydn was the first real innovator of string quartet composition writing 68 works for the genre over four decades.  Mozart emulated Haydn’s quartet writing to the point of dedicating a portfolio of six quartets to him in 1785.  But Mozart’s two later quartets in D, numbers 20 (K499) and 21 (K575), are favorites.   Both are filled with gorgeous melodies and invention that will satisfy the novice or expert alike. The Alban Berg Quartet’s recording on EMI is my favorite.

Ravel: String Quartet

Ravel’s string quartet was the 28-year old composer’s final submission to the Prix de Rome and the Conservatoire de Paris.  The work was rejected by both institutions soon after its first performance on March 5, 1904. But rather than a setback the press and notoriety from the premiere catapulted the young composer’s career.  Today the quartet is among the most widely performed chamber works.  I can’t think of a more beautiful, sensual work for strings. The second movement featuring pizzicato string playing (as in plucking and not bowing the strings) is innovative and simply great stuff.  My favorite recordings of the work—which is usually paired with the equally outstanding Debussy string quartet--are by the Tokyo Quartet and the Sequoia Quartet. 

Aspen, May of 2012; day two of the Master’s tasting exam.  Sabato Sagaria from the Little Nell Resort--the exam venue hotel--is one of the last candidates of the day scheduled for our panel.  This was Sabato’s third and final attempt at the tasting exam.  If he failed to get over he would have to reset and take the entire examination again.  After exchanging greetings and pleasantries we read Sabato the rules of engagement and wished him luck.  He sat quietly for 15-20 seconds and then the clock started as picked up the first glass and smelled through the wines.  As he started to describe the first wine I quickly sensed that Sabato was really on his game. His voice was confident and he was working through the deductive tasting grid required for the exam consistently leaving little, if anything, out.  As he finished the first wine and nailed the conclusion he never looked up only pausing briefly before going directly into the second wine. As the minutes progressed it was clear to the three of us sitting on the other side of the table that Sabato was having a stellar exam.  It was as if he was tasting the wines and reading the scoring grid verbatim back to us leaving almost nothing out.  But what was especially impressive was his ferocious concentration, never looking past the space with the six glasses on the table directly in front of him as if anything beyond didn’t exist.  Sabato finished up the sixth wine with a minute to spare.  We asked him if he wanted to reconsider anything and he simply said, “Nope, I’m just going to finish my $900 flight of wine.” He then proceeded to drink every drop of what he calls the most influential flight of wines ever poured for him.

Sabato’s exam stands out as one of the best I’ve ever seen.  In over 20 years I’ve rarely observed anything like it. What it has in common with all the other best tasting exams I’ve witnessed is that once the candidate started tasting they went far, far away into their own world and stayed there until time was up.  It's as if everything but the glasses in front of them doesn’t exist. 

There’s an enormous benefit to being able to establish such a deep, focused state for exam purposes--or practically anything else for that matter.  For the student it creates an optimal state in which a highly complex task such as a tasting exam can be done proficiently without outside distraction while at the same time avoiding nerves and anything remotely connected to the flight/fight mechanism. This kind of intensely focused state is often called the “zone” by athletes and other performers and the best of them become very proficient at getting into and staying in their zone when needed.

I asked Sabato how he prepared for the exam and he told me that he trained for it like an athletic event by using what he called a “360 degree approach.”  He believes—and rightly so—that the tasting exam has more variables than the other parts of the exam in terms of how well one feels on a given day, if it’s a good smelling/tasting day for the individual, and even who is on the other side of the table as far as the examiners are concerned.  He told me that previous to that day in Aspen he was always nervous about who the examiners were and that when his mind wandered it was, as he called it, “my worst enemy.”  

To combat nerves he practiced tasting in the same manner, blocking out everything but the six glasses, regardless of who he was tasting with.  He also exercised regularly focusing on being able to elevate and lower his heart rate quickly simulating the nerves of the exam.  He used meditation to practice calming his mind to be able get into a focused state quickly.  Finally, he used music to get to prepare for the exam by creating a special playlist that he used regularly to again put him in a great state before a practice tasting or to mentally rehearse the actual exam day.  It goes without saying that he listened to the same playlist on the exam day while walking to the hotel.  By the time he arrived he was calm, intensely focused, and ready to go.

Sabato is not alone in his approach.  Without exception, everyone I’ve worked with on my tasting project over the last several years is capable of quickly getting into a tasting “zone” quickly when focusing on a glass of wine.  Further, I’ve noticed that when experienced tasters go into their so-called “zone” they usually get there by using a consistent eye position and a specific quality of focus with their eyes.  I’ve written about the starting eye position many times previously, but practically everyone I’ve worked with looks down at about a 45 degree angle and either straight ahead or slightly to the left.  A few look down and slightly to the right while an even smaller number look out at the horizon level either straight ahead or to the left.  I do want to note—and this is important—that the specific location of anyone’s starting eye position is not hugely important.  What is important is that the individual has somehow found it and uses it consistently either consciously or unconsciously, the latter of which is generally the case in most experienced tasters.

Personally I’m able to drop into a zone pretty quickly when tasting by looking down at about a 45° and slightly to the left and asking myself some form of the question, “What’s there?” What’s also important other than the specific place I look is the fact that my eyes are slightly unfocused and I’m staring in space about 18-24 inches away and again down and slightly to the left.

Establishing Your Tasting Zone

I’ve thought about Sabato’s exam a great deal in the months following and now believe it’s critical for any student to be able to quickly get into a state of deep, focused concentration for a tasting exam--a tasting trance, if you will.  So the challenge then becomes how to easily find one’s zone and use it consistently. Here’s an exercise to help discover your own personal zone and fine tune it. 

Overlapping

Throughout the course of a day we constantly change our focus and state of awareness from holding a conversation to driving to watching TV to taking part in a physical activity such as jogging.  Further, as we go through our day we process information from the outside world with our preferred sensory system or modality which is visual for practically everyone.  In short, most of us represent our experience internally with pictures and movies. With that, try an exercise called “overlapping” to get a sense of what it feels like to be in a deep state of focused concentration.  Overlapping involves using a past memory—again highly visual--and paying close attention to all the other sensory information associated with the memory which then quickly results in a deeply focused—and one might even say altered—state.  It’s simple to do:

1. Go inside and think of a memory of a physical activity such as riding a bike, jogging or swimming are good examples.  Bring up the memory as vividly as you can; if it’s jogging see the path in front of you in detail as you move quickly and easily along.

2. Now add another sensory modality.  Feel your arms moving back and forth and your legs striding with each step.

3. When you’ve added a second sensory modality think of a third; in this case you might hear the sound of your feet hitting the ground with each stride. 

4. Now go back and add detail to each modality; make the scene in front of you as clear and bright as possible, feel the breeze on your face as you’re running as well as the ambient temperature of the air around you; hear the sounds of traffic around you or birds chirping if the scene is a path in the country.

5. Stop and notice the quality and depth of your state of awareness at this point.  Odds are it’s a pretty deep state of concentration—exactly the kind needed for a tasting exam or other activity requiring exacting detail.  Also notice the position and focus of your eyes—literally where you’re looking and the quality of the focus of your gaze.

Overlapping with Wine

Now try overlapping using a memory of a wine you’ve tasted.  Choose a wine that’s easy to remember—a botrytis dessert wine like Sauternes comes to mind.  Using the model above go through every aspect of the wine in sequence:

1. First, see the color of the wine as vividly you can; a botrytis wine would be a deep yellow in color.

2. Now add some primary aromatics to the memory as in ripe peach and apricot fruit.

3. Next feel the luscious texture of the wine on your palate—pay close attention to the balance of sweetness and tart acidity and how it tastes and feels on your palate.

4. Add more data and deepen your state of awareness, your zone.  Go back to the visual and add the secondary colors which could be glints of green and deeper gold.  Also see how the wine moves in the glass with richness and high viscosity from the residual sugar. Next smell more components in the wine focusing on non-fruit, earth and oak; bring up the ginger and honey from botrytis, the mushroom/earth elements and all the spice notes from oak-aging. With the palate feel the warmth from the alcohol on your palate and calibrate the precise temperature of the wine.

Now play with it.  Make everything about the wine younger and then much older and more vinous. Stop once again and notice the depth and quality of your state of awareness, your zone.  Also note where you’re looking and as well as the soft quality of your eyes.  If you’re talking to yourself note the quality of your voice—the tonality and volume are especially important.

With the Glass

The final step is to practice getting into your zone using the act of picking up a wine glass as the trigger.  It’s as simple as using your eye position and focus just as you pick up the glass and bring it to your nose.  For me the sequence is again literally picking up a glass with my right hand, eyes going down and to the right about 15-18 inches away (the length of my arm) and saying, “What’s there?”  

Practice getting into your zone quickly—and on command.  Also practice getting out of it quickly.  You may need to. Use it when you taste—always.

 

Last week the Master’s Exam in Aspen concluded after four days with five new Masters.  Before going further I want to congratulate them: Alexander LaPratt of Atrium in Brooklyn, Pascaline Lepeltier of Rouge Tomate in New York, Andrew Meyers of CityZen in Washington D.C., Jared Slipp of RDV Vineyards in Virginia, and Lindsey Whipple of Vegas Wine in Las Vegas. Some in the group had taken the exam as many as six times before finally passing.  Their hard work and long journey are to be admired and commended. 

Two of the four days in Aspen were tasting exam days.  Unfortunately, this was not a good tasting year with a small percentage of students passing this portion of the exam. Over the course of the two tasting days I took copious notes in the form of what would become feedback for the students.  Here are some of those notes.  They will serve as useful advice for any student preparing for the tasting exam at the Advanced or Master’s levels. 

Sight

Primary colors: the color in a glass of wine should build instant expectations in terms of age, storage conditions and even winemaking and grape variety.  This is especially true of red wines in terms of zeroing in on thin vs. thick skinned grapes.  Your universe should get much smaller within a second or two of looking at a glass of red wine.  If it doesn’t, that’s a clue as well. Otherwise:

Whites: know the difference between straw, yellow and gold.  Work with pantone panels or paint strips if you have to.  Make the colors bright, intense and huge in your head so they’re easy to recognize. Reds: ditto with purple, red and garnet; should be easy. 

Secondary colors: in whites note the difference between green, silver, and gold. Look for them actively after identifying the primary color. Again, make these colors huge and bright in your mind’s eye so you easily remember them.  With reds do the same with purple, pink and salmon.

Rim variation: pay special attention to rim variation in reds to get an initial idea of a wine’s age. 

Staining of the tears: note it as it speaks to the concentration and density of a red wine.

Sensory Evaluation: Nose

Fruit: be precise. Don’t give a dozen fruits for a single wine. If you do your friendly examiners will think you’re hallucinating or trying to use a shotgun approach to score some points.  Ahem. Be thorough in using all the fruit groups for both whites and reds as a check list.  I’ll say this several times throughout this post: ask yourself what’s really in the glass and then find it and say it.   

Quality of the fruit: almost as important as the fruit itself.  Is the fruit fresh, tart, ripe, over ripe, stewed or dried?

Important: the quality of the fruit will practically always match up to the color in terms of fresh fruit and youthful color vs. dried fruit and more developed color.  Practice making that connection in your head—with and without wine in hand.

Non-fruit: huge in my book. The non-fruit and structure are the two major keys to identifying wine.  As with the fruit use the entire check list for non-fruit including flowers, herbs/vegetal, spice (pepper spice and hard brown or baking spices), leather and the rest.  Smell the wine again, use the check list, and find what’s in the glass.  Don’t invent things.

Earth and mineral: important for determining old vs. new world style in wines. Further, look for inorganic vs. organic earth in every wine. Translated: look for rocks AND dirt in every wine. Again, use extreme examples.  Do what I call the Rombauer check: with any white wine put up an enormous Rombauer Chardonnay label in your mind’s eye and next to it place a Raveneau Butteaux label. Ask yourself which one.  The answer will be instantaneous--and easy. 

Oak: note if oak is there to begin with.  From there ask if it’s new barrique or older, larger cooperage. I whites look for cheese rind or a slightly musty quality for older wood.  Remember that in most wines oak will offer more than one aromatic. Not sure if oak’s in the wine? Do the Rombauer label thing again and this time put a Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc label next to it.  Ask yourself which one.  The answer will be quick and obvious.

Special Notes

The following can be problem children for some students in terms of recognition.  If any of them are blind spots you’ll absolutely need to address them by installing memories for them.  Otherwise, recognizing certain grapes or entire groups of grapes will be inconsistent at best. 

Pyrazines: the chemical compounds that smell like green bell pepper, jalapeño, and strong herbal-vegetal notes.  If you find them in a red wine you’re in Cabernet family land.  If you find them in a white you’re probably dealing with Sauvignon Blanc.

Terpenes: as in petrol or diesel for Riesling and the intense oily-floral perfumed qualities in aromatic grapes like Gewürztraminer, Muscat and Torrontés. Terpenes are anything but subtle and important keys for identifying the grape and place of origin.

SO2: there are certain wines I can’t conjure up in my mind without some form of sulfur or even reduction; think White Burgundy, German Riesling, and Loire Chenin Blanc.  Make sure you have this one down; you need to.

Lees contact: look for it in semi-aromatic grapes (especially Melon, Pinot Grigio, and Chardonnay in the form of Chablis) where there may not be much else on the nose or even palate.  It’s a huge clue to the wine in terms of winemaking and/or general style.

Pepper: this one you must have or recognizing Grüner Veltliner will forever be a nightmare. If you don’t have it install it. I wrote a post about installing an olfactory memory and the steps to do just that can be found at the link below:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/tasting-strategies-improving-olfactory-memory-and-sensitivity

Diacetyl: this one you’ll need for identifying winemaking in terms of Chardonnay from any number of places. 

Mint and eucalyptus: a strong aromatic found in some new world reds, especially those from Australia.  If either or both are a problem then Coonawarra Cabernet will forever be a challenge to identify.  Use the method in the link above to install the memory.  A jar of Vick’s VapoRub should do the trick.

Sensory Evaluation: Palate

In tasting the wine you’re trying to accomplish several things: first to confirm what you’ve already smelled in the glass and then to note if the quality of the fruit or other aromatics in the wine have changed.  Finally, you need to calibrate the structure of the wine as precisely as you can.

Dryness-sweetness: determine how much, if any, residual sugar is in the wine.  To do so taste the wine and then wait at least 3-5 seconds before formulating an answer. Pay close attention to any R.S. on the finish of the wine.  That’s the true measure.

Confirmation of the nose:

Fruit: same as the nose? Different? Important: does the quality of the fruit change from nose to palate?  It often does.  A good example is the ripe/over ripe fruit on the nose of a Zinfandel becoming more tart red fruit on the plate. 

Non-fruit: as with the fruit confirm what you’ve smelled in the glass. Some aromatics may be stronger on the palate vs. the nose and vice versa.

Mineral and earth: confirm what you’ve smelled but once again check to see if the palate is different from the nose.  There could be more minerality on the palate of a Graves rouge vs. the earth/truffle/mushroom on the nose.

Oak: check for barrique vs. older, larger wood.  Be especially careful with semi-aromatic whites that see time in large cooperage; look for the rounded texture and the cheese rind thing.

Palate: Structure

Hugely important. The two problem grape families—semi-aromatic whites and thinner skinned reds—can offer very similar fruit profiles. But put the wines next to each other and the structures for each will be different—sometimes radically different.

Calibrate precisely!  Use visual confirmation as in a scale or dial or whatever internal system is easiest and most consistent for you. Install it by first calibrating with extremes at “low” and “high.” Then find the middle and then work towards medium-plus and medium-minus.  Practice without wine. A lot.

Don’t Rush the Structure! 

All too often I witness a student in a tasting practice or an exam blurt out the structure (alcohol, acid, tannin, finish) in milliseconds with half of their answers completely off.  Tasting for structure is one of those rare times during the four minutes of tasting a wine where you do something and then stop for a few seconds to see what you have. Re-taste the wine, wait 3-5 seconds, calibrate precisely, and then give your answer.

Palate: Special Notes

Phenolic bitterness vs. tannin: note the difference between the almond skin bitterness on the finish of a Gewürztraminer, Viognier or even a Northern Italian Pinot Grigio versus a wine that has oak.  Both may taste bitter and feel astringent on the palate but oak will practically always be accompanied by any number of spice/vanilla or other aromatics and flavors.

Earth vs. no earth: practice with extremes; the Rombauer Chardonnay/Chablis comparison is a good one as is a Chianti Classico next to a Napa Merlot.

Oak vs. no oak: the Rombauer Chardonnay/Chablis thing is perfect.

Theoretical Deduction: Making the Conclusion

It’s important to remember that by the time you’ve reached the exam you’ve tasted a lot of wines--as in a LOT of wines.  Be confident that you’ve tasted every wine that could possibly be on the exam and probably multiple times.  At some point all of them were recognizable to you.

Listen to yourself: easily said but hard to do.  Listen to everything you’ve said over the course of looking at, smelling and tasting wine then use the ENTIRE grid to make your conclusion.  Above all, avoid making your conclusion on a single thing you’ve seen, smelled or tasted.  For me personally the non-fruit and the structure of the wine have to match up for me to be convinced of a grape or wine. 

Vintages: this is all about theory and knowing vintages and vintage quality for major producing regions over the last decade.  Beyond that connect the color to the condition of fruit to the structure of the wine (especially the acidity and alcohol) to come up with what makes the best sense for age and vintage. Easier to do with new world style wines than old world wines that can show a greater degree of vintage variation. Watch out for southern hemisphere wines!

Dealing with the voice: for many students there’s an internal voice as in a part of them that desperately wants to get the wine right.  At some point in tasting the wine (usually early on) the voice may whisper, bark or scream the name of a grape or wine.  At that point it’s best to thank the voice and park the information somewhere in your internal field. Then promise that part of you that you’ll taste through the wine and get back to that piece of information when you start making the conclusion.  Remember that the voice is only trying to help you succeed.  Don’t abuse it or tell it to shut up—it will only get louder.  And remember, only one voice in your head at a time or it will get confusing if not noisy.

Mental rehearsal: my best advice on conclusions is to practice making them without wine in hand.  Use the best possible examples of each grape and wine you’ve ever tasted as models.  For me thinking in the form of making a conclusion has a direction and a feeling.  Note what it feels like when you make a right conclusion versus a wrong one.  How does it feel? If you keep mistaking one grape for another mentally practice making the right conclusion with the sensory information over and over. There’s definitely a direction and feeling to making decisions.

Various Strategies:

Tasting reds before whites: used and taught by some Masters.  If you’re set on using it be sure it actually works for you.  I personally can’t do it.

Tasting vertically: don’t go into a practice tasting or especially an exam looking for certain grapes, certain wines or a specific number of wines from a given country within the flight.  It may sound clever but can only lead to disaster.  Taste what’s in the glass!  Taste each wine as a unique entity unto itself. Do the best job you can with it and then move on. 

Clearing the mechanism: again, taste each wine individually, vertically.  Regardless of how you think or feel about the conclusion of the wine you’ve just tasted, once you finish with it clear your head, reset, and move on to the next wine.  Use the entire grid the same way every time with each wine. You’ll be glad you did.

Cheers!

Twenty years before publishing the theory of relativity Einstein first imagined himself riding on a beam of light.

In Ron Suskind’s recent book, “Life, Animated,” he and his wife Cornelia were only able to begin communicating with their autistic son Owen by using the voices of characters in Disney animated movies.  Owen would later learn life skills and wisdom by assuming the personalities of certain Disney characters and even proclaiming himself to be “the protector of sidekicks.”

In Taryn Voget’s Everyday Genius DVD, “Study Smarter, Not Harder: Think Like a Genius A+ Student,” Alex Freeman, one of the three students she and behavioral scientist Tim Hallbom modeled, viewed information from multiple points of view. In class he often mentally “stepped” into the instructor and saw himself as the teacher presenting the material. By becoming the teacher he found that he could more easily and thoroughly absorb the material.  But Alex went further by imagining himself in a third position floating above the class and observing the interaction between the teacher presenting the material and himself listening.

Is there power in the strategy of changing perceptual positions? All of the above would appear to indicate that and strongly so. But what is it about putting one’s self into a different point of view that brings change?  Does the simple act of “pretending” to be someone or something else create the possibility for greater understanding and change?  Does the old saying “putting yourself in someone else’s shoes” really allow for greater learning?  All indications would seem to say yes. 

My recent experience with changing perceptual positions had to do with coaching students taking the Master Sommelier theory exam.  Unlike practically every other exam which is written in format the Master’s theory exam is oral--literally 45 minutes of the student being asked ludicrously difficult questions by a team of examiners.  By comparison a written exam seems like a security blanket in terms of the familiar pattern of read, remember and write--a combination of visual memory and the physical anchor of writing.  Being required to recall information auditorily poses different challenges for the student and may even put some at a disadvantage in terms of how their internal processing functions.

Stress is also an important factor in the MS theory exam in how it impacts--even impairs--a student’s ability to focus completely in the moment, clearly hear the questions being asked, and ultimately to be able to access the required memory—which again is practically entirely visually-based.  With that, studying using visual memory alone as in using flashcards or straight ahead reading and memorization usually isn’t good enough for an oral exam as the information may not be readily accessible under stressful conditions.  To thoroughly prepare for an oral exam a student has to study using multiple representational systems for memorizing needed information. With the Master’s theory exam I often tell students they need to practice with the material auditorily—literally to record themselves using MP3 files asking and answering potential questions. 

There’s one more important component.  I’ve always thought that the Master’s exam was a series of three auditions and for some, especially students without a strong collegiate academic background, the theory exam can be the toughest of the three parts of the overall examination (tasting and serving being the other two parts). And while the exam is ultimately about extensive study and preparation, having enough confidence and a comfort level with the material is the make or break part of the equation for succeeding—or not.

In regard to comfort level and expertise I’ve long held a belief that one really doesn’t really know a subject until one can teach it; that the act of teaching displays a degree of mastery not present in simply memorizing answers. Why? Because teaching requires one to know more than enough information about the subject to communicate about it effectively beyond simple regurgitation.  In teaching one also has to possess enough mental flexibility about the subject to be able to answer pertinent questions about the topic as well as to be able make connections to related—or even unrelated—fields.

Enter a concept I call “The Teaching Space.”  The Teaching Space asks the student to assume multiple perceptual points of view to demonstrate knowledge of subject material. Further it asks the student to create and maintain a degree of confidence and a comfort level that only comes with being able to teach the subject effectively and easily.  

The objectives of the Teaching Space are multiple: first, to give the student practice recalling information using multiple sensory systems (visual, auditory, and kinesthetic); to anchor confidence and a comfort level not only with the material but presenting the material as well; finally to create a sense of “expertise” with the given material by rehearsing presentation skills. 

The Teaching Space is a variation on the technique called “Circle of Excellence” I wrote about in a previous post (see link below) in that it uses anchoring to a space on the floor as a vital part of the exercise.

http://www.timgaiser.com/1/post/2012/10/game-day-skills-the-circle-of-excellence.html

What’s Needed:

Have topics, questions or concepts about wine regions, grapes or terms that you’re studying ready to go.  These can vary in length from simple question and answer format to longer, more complex information.

Creating the Teaching Space:

Use two pieces of paper marked “teacher” and “meta.”  Lay them out on the floor several feet apart in front of you.

The Teaching Space: this is the space where you become the expert and teach your material confidently and with ease.

The Meta space: this is the observer space where you can look at your “performance” in the teaching space and think about how it can be improved in terms of delivery or content.

Using the Teaching Space: downloading the focus of a great teacher

Before you step on to the Teaching Space anchor/paper stop for a moment, go inside and get a sense of what it would feel like to be a world class teacher/instructor.  If you don’t have a reference for one spend some time on YouTube looking at TED videos for examples of great presenters.  Once you have someone in mind start by physically assuming their posture in terms of how they stand, how they breathe, their eye focus and especially their tonality in speaking.  Even if it feels odd—and it may—practice this a few times until you can do it.  It shouldn’t be that difficult because after all, you’re just pretending. 

1. Step on to the Teaching Space anchor.

Now step on to the Teaching Space anchor/paper on the floor.  As you step on to the Teaching Space step into the role of the great teacher or expert; literally be the person. Assume their posture, tonality, and gestures. Begin teaching your material from their viewpoint of the expert or teacher. 

The keys are being confident about the subject, your comfort level, your tonality and everything else about how you deliver the material.  Your eyes are important and they should be soft but focused; your feelings are also important in that you not only feel like you know what you know but that the other people who are supposedly listening to you get the information.

*It’s always good to start explaining material with a visual cue in your mind’s eye.  With a wine region I always start with a google zoom in on a map to the place I’ll be talking about (Champagne, the Mosel etc.).

2. Step off the Teaching Space anchor and on to the Meta anchor.

The purpose of the Meta space is to make observations your performance while in the Teaching Space and make suggestions on how to improve it.  You may notice details in the information that you left out.  Write these down so they’re included in your next presentation. You may also notice things that can be improved with your delivery in terms of posture, gestures, tonality and eye contact and movement.  Note these also.  The Meta space offers insight into how someone would view your “performance” of the material. Are you presenting the material in a way that someone who could be listening would understand it and really get it?  That’s a good question to ask yourself while in the Meta space.

Suggestions:

• Warm up!  Always start with simple concepts for the first few minutes or until you feel ready to take on more challenging material.  Above all, don’t start with the most challenging thing you’re studying or something you don’t completely know.  Remember this is all about being confident with the material and having a comfort level in talking about it.
  

• Once you really have your first region/topic down starting plugging in others.  The key is to make it the same inner experience; the FEELINGS have to be the same.
  

• Important!  Keep your focus and confidence/comfort level up.  If you feel it lagging step out of the Teaching Space and take a break.  When you’re in the Teaching Space you need to be on.
  

• If you don’t know a piece or pieces of information about a region write them down on a list; if anything else is lacking that makes it so you don’t have a solid experience teaching, write it down; the next time you run through the material you can do so with list in hand and practice going through the region etc. making sure the comfort level is there.  Repeat until you don’t need the notes.
  

Transferring the Teaching Space:

Odds are your oral exam will be conducted while being seated thus you’ll need to practice transferring the Teaching Space to a chair and also anchor going into the teaching mode while sitting down.  Same procedure—make one chair the Teaching Space and the other the Meta space.  Practice!

Final Thought

If you suspect that something sneaky is going on here you're absolutely correct.  In practicing learning material using the Teaching Space you are literally rehearsing public speaking/presenting even though an audience is not there.  And that’s not a bad thing.  I think the best thing anyone can do for their career is to learn public speaking and this is a painless first step in learning how to do just that.

Cheers!

My first grade teacher Mrs. Barwin was a kind caring woman who ended up being the calm eye in a hurricane of scary-ass nuns that would begin just the next year in second grade and the cruelest, most sadistic nun of them all—Sister Peter Ann.  But first grade was different.  It was a time of wonder and learning things like phonics, the Byzantine spelling/pronunciation rules that define the English language.  We also began our initial explorations into the world of science and one of the first things we had to learn about was the planets.  In fact we were required to stand up and recite the nine planets in order from tiny fiery Mercury nearest the sun all the way to distant, dark and even tinier Pluto.  I distinctly remember learning about the planets because I had to work with the girl who sat behind me.  Her name was Sheila and there were two very distinct things about her: her dirty blond hair was reminiscent of mild electric shock and the fact that she picked her nose and ate it.  Even at the tender age of seven I knew that this was wrong—at least as far as the field of gastronomy was concerned.  Even to this day when meeting someone named Sheila I am given to pause …

 As for the planets, Pluto was my favorite.  It was discovered in 1930 by an American astronomer, Clyde W. Tombaugh, at the Lowell Observatory in Arizona and named by an 11-year-old English girl.  At 1,400 miles in diameter it’s slightly smaller than the earth’s moon.  It takes Pluto 248 years to go around the sun and one day on Pluto is the equivalent of 6.5 days on Earth. 

 Why the fuss over Pluto? Stay with me.  In 2006 scientists demoted it to a “dwarf planet.”  After 76 years of stardom it was no longer one of the great nine.  If you’re keeping score a dwarf planet is obviously smaller than a planet but it’s so small it can’t clear objects out of its path.  I will not expound on the mild anguish I experienced over glowing childhood memories of my favorite once-proud Pluto being dashed in an instant. For the record, Pluto is also called a plutoid--a dwarf planet that is farther out in space than the planet Neptune.  The term plutoid may also be used to describe certain college age dating social behavior.

Fast forward to last year.  I’m writing a piece on the wines of Alto Adige and am doing some quick research on Gewürztraminer.  In Alto Adige the village of Tramin is fondly regarded by the locals as the spiritual home of the grape.  To confirm that and more I reached for my copy of Jancis Robinson’s brilliant book, “Wine Grapes.” It’s co-authored with Julia Harding and Jose Vouillamoz and first published in 2012.  Wine Grapes is anything but portable weighing in at a hefty 6.7 pounds with 1,242 pages.  It’s arguably one of the greatest wine books ever written--so what better source to reach for when looking up the quick and dirty on Gewürztraminer.

I immediately turned to the table of contents—itself an act of maturity.  In the past I would have bravely albeit ignorantly tried to find the “Gewürztraminer” listing by blindly ploughing through the book’s pages.  But experience told me that this would be a waste of time.  Using the index in a book is not unlike the point where you finally stop and ask for directions; when your consequences software is so keenly honed that you can experience future potential agita that will be dished out by your significant other or anyone else in the car--all in the blink of an eye.

Finding the entry I quickly turned to page 408 for the Gewürztraminer listing only to find the following brief snippet: “See Savagnin.” I was a little concerned at this point.  I quickly paged through the book (screw the table of contents at this point) past Sabato, Sagrantino, a lengthy entry for Sangiovese, past Saperavi and Sauvignon Blanc, finally grinding to a halt at Savagnin on page 966 (can you say William the Conqueror?). There under “Origins and Parentage” I read that Gewürztraminer has been proven with DNA testing to be an aromatic mutation of Savagnin Rose (Galet 2000).  Jancis goes on to write that “Gewurztraminer has become by far the most widely planted variant of Traminer (Savagnin Blanc).”

There you have it.  With a single DNA-laced stroke the once noble Gewürztraminer has been stripped of its title and demoted to AA status (not even AAA!).  Such is cruel fate.  The salt on the wound? The village of Tramin obviously never was the spiritual home of the grape.  Because after all it’s a mutant form of a grape you’ve never heard of. Cruel fate indeed. 

Is Gewürztraminer the Pluto of Vitis Vinifera? You decide.

One of the keys to tasting be it for pleasure or profession is olfactory memory.  The good news is that we’re born with all the necessary hardware for it.  We develop our smell memory, largely at the unconscious level, over a lifetime.  Professional tasting carries olfactory memory much further in that it not only requires a highly developed memory but also the ability to detect trace amounts of aromatics or flaws.  With that, here are strategies for improving your smell memory and—more importantly—sensitivity to aromatics.  All the strategies use submodalities as a tool.  If you’re unfamiliar with the term there’s a quick definition below. 

The Basic Set

There are 25-30 aromas common to practically all wines; from various fruits to spices to flowers to earth and mineral notes.  I call this the basic set and wrote a post about it last year. The complete exercises using the Basic Set can be found at slideshare.net.  To download the two PDF’s use the following links:

Modules I & II:

http://www.slideshare.net/tgaiser/basic-set-modules-i-and-ii-pdf

Modules III & IV:

http://www.slideshare.net/tgaiser/basic-set-modules-iii-and-ii-pdf

It’s important for any wine professional to have all of the components in the Basic Set completely down, meaning one can bring any of them up on command. One does this in two ways: 

First, working with one’s own life memories in the form of images and movies for aromas from the set—and beyond.

Second, using submodalities to improve sensitivity and detection for any of these aromatics.

Translated: building sensitivity to all the components in the basic set and beyond by working with the structure of said images/movies—or the submodalities.  To quickly define submodalities: the word is derived from “moda,” the Greek term for the senses.  Our five senses internally make up our thoughts for which over 90% of the human race is visual-dominant.  In other words, most of us think in images and movies.  Further, the images, sounds and feelings that make up our thoughts have structural qualities.  For visual alone there are over 60 qualities or submodalities including size, proximity, brightness, dimensionality and more.  With that in mind explore the following:

Driver Submodalities

Start by discovering your “driver” or dominant submodalities.  Sounds complicated but it’s easy to do.  Take your memory of lemon in the form of however you represent the smell and taste of lemon.  It could be an image of a lemon from a memory or a full-on movie of your biting into a lemon slice with all the details down to the texture and temperature of the fruit.  Once you have the image or movie in mind try some simple experiments.  First, play with the size of the image or movie; make it ludicrously enormous—at least 20 feet by 20 feet.  Does that increase the intensity of “lemon?”  Odds are it does.  Now reset it back to where it was originally.  Next make the size of the image/movie really small, say one inch square.  Note the increase or decrease in intensity. Then reset the image again.

Next bring the image/movie as close in as possible. Is there an increase in intensity or a decrease?  Make a note and then reset it.  Next move the image/movie across the room.  Decrease or increase?  Reset it.

Finally, turn up the brightness of the image/movie until it’s shocking.  Increase or decrease in intensity? Note it. Now make the image/movie so dim you can barely see it.  Increase or decrease?  Again, note it and reset the image. 

Once you’ve played around with distance, size and brightness submodalities you’ll discover one or all of these three will change your experience of the original image/memory.  These are your “driver” submodalities because, as you have quickly discovered, changing any one of them dramatically changes your experience of the content of the memory. 

Building Sensitivity to Aromatics through Submodalities

Now for the fun part. 

Take the image of your memory of “lemon” and move it closer in and then farther away increasing and decreasing the intensity of your memory. Do the same with the size of the image if that works better (or the brightness if that yet works better). Find the one that works the best.  It’s like turning the volume on an iPhone up or down.

Play with moving the image so far away or so small that you lose any sense of lemon.  Pay close attention to just how small or dim or far away the image has to be for the memory to completely go away.  Then move it back in just closer than that until the sense of "lemon" is restored.  

Move the image back and forth until you can detect trace amounts of your recall of “lemon.” 

Practice moving the image and building your sensitivity to “lemon” until you can detect it on the next block; in the next state.  Push the envelope!

Do the same with other aromatics—fruits, flowers, spices, earth/mineral elements and oak influence.

Also do the same with basic wine flaws like TCA, Brett and VA.  You’ll be glad you did. 

Practice! You’ll save yourself a lot of time and angst by practicing olfactory memory--without having a glass of wine in hand.

Fixing “Blind Spots” - How to Install a Smell Memory

If you can’t smell white pepper recognizing Grüner Veltliner will always be a problem.  If you can’t smell pyrazines—the aromatic compounds that smell like bell pepper, jalapeño and green savory herbs--then telling the difference between a 1er Cru Chablis and Sancerre will always be a nightmare. Likewise if you miss the TDN/petrol notes in a glass of Riesling you’ll always confuse it with something else.

An olfactory memory can be “installed” with enough repetition and by knowing key submodalities of another aromatic you can already easily smell.

What to do? First, take a smell memory that’s easiest for you; lemon, vanilla, green apple or whatever.  Choose one and hold the memory of lemon—as in your image of lemon-in mind.  Make it outrageously strong.  Don’t mess around here as it’s easiest to learn anything by using extreme examples.  Fix the memory image of “lemon” in your mind’s eye and then note the structure as accurately as you possibly can.  In fact, write it down in list form.  Note the size of the image, the proximity (how close it is to you), the brightness, whether it’s color vs. black and white, a still image or movie, whether the image has a border or not, and whether the image is two-dimensional or 3D.  Again, write it all down because you need to be accurate and you’ll also able using the list in moments.

Now take the aroma you’re struggling with be it white pepper, bell pepper, eucalyptus (Vicks VapoRub is an ace for that one).  Have some of whatever it is on hand. 

First, take whatever it is you want to install in your hands.  Smell it and close your eyes and make an image of it (as in Vick’s VapoRub bottle). Make the image big, bright and close to you in your internal Imax Theater. 

Now for the fun.  Open your eyes and look at the aromatic again and smell it.  This time close your eyes and take the image of whatever you’re smelling and make it the same STRUCTURE as the image of whatever aromatic it is you can easily recall. 

*Remember, it’s NOT content we’re after here—it’s the structure.  Make sure your image of the new aromatic is the same size, proximity, and brightness as the “easy” aromatic—and the rest.

Oddly enough, the content is almost secondary as far as your brain/nervous system is concerned in terms of functionality.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Practice smelling the new aromatic and creating the “easy” submodalities/image dozens of times. 

Do this in more than session.  Do it as many times as it takes.

Be sure to make the structure of the image is exactly the same as the easy memory.

You’re brain, by the way, will love this.  It’s like easy cerebral calisthenics.

Think of it as drag and drop on your desktop.  And if you can do it with aromatics, you can do it with anything.  Lots of possibilities here so have fun with it.  Go!

The Photography of Kirsty Mitchell

I came across Kirsty Mitchell’s work not long ago and was completely amazed.  The U.K.-born Mitchell initially studied art history, photography, and fine art in London going on to train in performance costume at the London College of Fashion. Afterwards Mitchell completed two internships at the design studios of Alexander McQueen and Hussein Chalayan before ultimately landing a full time position as a senior designer for a global fashion brand.  In 2007 everything changed when her mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor and as she put it, “my world fell apart.” Her mother died in November 2008 and Mitchell wrote that photography “engulfed me, becoming an overwhelming passion that I could not stop.” She found herself producing works echoing memories of childhood stories her mother read to her; images in which she designed and made everything. The costumes, props, sets and accessories all became a vital part of the process as important as the finished photograph. The results are simply remarkable.  Her “Wonderland Series” created between 2009 and 2014 is the stuff of magic and dreams.  In an age where one suspects any and every image to have been manipulated by the likes of Photoshop much less CGI, Kirsty’s photographs are true works of art.  Here are a few favorites:

www.kirstymitchellphotography.com

Buy a Pair, Give a Pair: the Beauty of Warby Parker

In the last two years I’ve had a love/hate relationship with my reading glasses because of the following tragic and all-too-common tale:

a. I initially bought a very stylish pair of reading glasses from my neighborhood eye care place and almost immediately lost them on a SFO to Denver flight. Ouch!

b. I then replaced them with a not-so-groovy pair which I had for almost a year before one of the temple pieces fell off while standing in a parking lot in Albuquerque.

c. I returned to my friendly neighborhood eye care place to learn that they could only replace the entire frames—and not just one of the temple pieces.  Oy!

Total price: over $1K.  Frustration and alternate strategy: priceless. 

Enter Warby Parker. WP is the vision of co-founder Neil Blumenthal, also the founder of VisionSpring.  The premise of Warby Parker is simple: “Buy a Pair, Give a Pair” as in $95 for well-made prescription glasses. And for every pair sold through the WP website or retail stores around the country a pair of glasses is provided gratis to someone in need in a third world country.  Further, the VisionSpring program allows the opportunity for low income men and women to sell affordable glassware in their country. 

The selection of frames and styles at WP is very good and changes seasonally.  Prescription sunglasses are also available.  I ordered two pairs of reading glasses via the website and am thrilled with both pairs.  The customer service is outstanding—glasses ordered online and delivered in a week’s time. If you haven’t checked out Warby Parker you should.  The world needs more companies like them.

http://www.warbyparker.com/

Audioengine Speakers

I’ve come to the sad conclusion that most of my music listening happens while sitting in front of my laptop (In fact, as I’m writing this I’m listening to Prokofiev’s “Romeo & Juliet” by the Atlanta Symphony on Telarc).  It’s a sad conclusion because my definition of listening to music is devoting time to just that--sitting in front of a decent system with good speakers.  Alas the world has changed and my anything-but regular work schedule necessitates listening while sitting in front of the magic all-knowing glow screen.  If that’s the case then the equipment—as in the desktop speakers--have to be good (Don’t worry—it’s a guy thing.  We get completely compulsive about electronics.  It’s true).  About two years ago I purchased a pair of Audiogengine A2’s after doing entirely too much reading about small desktop speakers.  Mind you I’ve owned Magnepan speakers for over 20 years and still think top planar speakers are the best there is. But the A2’s changed everything about my day to day listening.  Audioengine is a small company based in North Carolina and has custom built studio monitors for years.  It’s no surprise that the small self-powered A2’s (as in 6 X 4 inches) are made from the best materials and weigh a ton for their size. As for sound, you would have to spend three times the price to do any better.  And because the A2’s are amplified you can just plug your smart phone or iPod in and listen away.  The company now offers an updated version called the A2+.  BTW—I recently upgraded to the larger A5+’s and they are top class as well—even if they are entirely too large for my desk.  Once again, it's a guy thing. 

http://audioengineusa.com/

Good friend Doug Frost is the second among only four people in the world to have passed both the Master Sommelier and Master of Wine exams.  Author of several books, including "Uncorking Wine," "On Wine," and "Far From Ordinary: The Spanish Wine Guide," he is also host of Check Please!, a weekly public TV show filmed in Kansas City and the wine and spirits consultant for United Airlines worldwide. He is a founding member of the spirits and cocktail educational organization, BAR, (Beverage Alcohol Resource). Cheers magazine selected BAR and its founders as Innovators of the Year for 2007, and Frost as Beverage Innovator of the Year 2009. He runs two wine competitions, the Mid-American Wine Competition and the Jefferson Cup Invitational, now in its fourteenth year and judges in more than a dozen other competitions. In his spare time Doug listens to his massive weird music collection and continues to try to raise two (adult) daughters.

Doug and I tasted together in June of 2012 and we used the 2009 Roger Sabon Châteauneuf-du-Pape and Riedel Vinum Zinfandel/Chianti Classico glasses.

Overall Tasting Goals

TG: When you are tasting what are you trying to accomplish?

DF: It depends on the client for whom I’m tasting. The context changes per client. In tasting this wine I’m trying to decide if it’s delicious, how well made it is, what sort of ageability it has, and for whom is this wine made.

TG: By that you mean …

DF: Who is the best customer for this wine?

TG: If the context changes, if you’re just going to pick up a glass of wine and enjoy it what are your goals then?

DF: It might be food it might be mood as in what style am I in the mood for.  There can be times where a wine is perfectly well made and even delicious but I’m not in the mood and really don’t give a damn about it.

TG: What’s necessary for you, in terms of environment and equipment, to have a good tasting experience?

DF: Spit cup! (One’s missing from the table) Smell free and smoke free and not much other than that.  But I really do have to spit to concentrate.

TG: Is it more important for you to spit in order to assess vs. having a sip? 

DF: It doesn’t work as well for me.  It’s the way I’m going to assess texture and volume, the structure.

TG: And you do that better by spitting?

DF: No, I need to get a big mouthful and am just not in the habit of swallowing the wine at any hour much less this hour (9:00 am).  It’s certainly part of the concentration process.  It helps to provide a more concentrated environment, but I really have to mix a lot of wine with saliva in my mouth and you really can’t do that with sips. 

TG: What else in terms of equipment do you need?

DF: Some kind of white background that I can look at the wine against; good lighting. 

TG: What about glassware?

DF: I’ll use glasses like these on occasion (Riedel Vinum Chianti Classico/Sangiovese), but most of the time I use the INAO because it’s a pretty cruel glass. 

Sight

TG: When you look at a wine, what are you trying to assess?

DF: I really just want to see its youthfulness, the volume, how much alcohol it has, how much extract it has, and what the condition of maturity is at this point. My mentality is that I’m always looking at the rim first and then my eyes will linger down into the bowl to see how much color differentiation there is.  With this wine there’s some pretty significant color differentiation, and there’s a watery meniscus and a pink rim to it.  So this wine is showing a bit of age to the coloring and it looks like it has a lot of alcohol volume and extract volume to it.  

TG: So if I were you, how would I know how to compare the color in this wine to other wines I’ve tasted before? Is there some way that you bring up colors of previous wines to compare?

DF: I think it’s a matter of trying to decide what colors are in front of me.  Is there some purple in the glass?  In this wine yes, so there would appear to be some hint of a hot climate.  I’m looking at a series of colors as wine shows a color gradation down into the bowl.  I’m looking to see how well can I see through the bowl and with this wine there’s quite a bit of extract;  but the quality of the colors and the value of the colors and what that means in terms of outcome. 

TG: If I had to be you, how would you compare that to previous wines in terms of memory?

DF: Just intellectually, I’m not carrying images of other wines in my head when I do this.

TG: How do you know?

DF: I’m just not aware of that and that’s not what I’m trying to do.  I’m just looking at a sheet of color and trying to decide what that sheet of color is.  It’s like looking at a color chart. 

TG: So is there an actual chart you see?

DF: No, I really don’t.  I just look at what I would regard as a color chart like you would do when you select a font color.  I look at art a lot so I look at colors so I’m comfortable staring at colors and calling them by name.

TG: Practically everyone I’ve spoken to has some kind of visual device that they compare colors to.  Do you use anything like that?

DF: I cannot say that that is happening with me because there are multiple colors.  It’s not really like that for me.  But I’m also not real clue into color the way some people are.

TG: So how do you know when you’re done looking at a wine?

DF: When I’ve been able to draw conclusions; in this wine there’s a pretty significant amount of extract and alcohol and it looks like warmish climate; when I can draw conclusions of what I think about the wine, how young it is and what climate it is, of what grape and what extract.

TG: Great. Could you actually demonstrate how you look at wine?

DF: White background, tip the glass all the way over and get the wine almost to a 45 degree angle, get some light somewhere so I can see it.

Nose

TG: What are your goals when you smell wine?

DF: I have a set of Master Sommelier familiar goals that I take a look at. Other than that I’m just seeing if anything else feels familiar.  I’m very much of the training.

TG: So you’re trying to assess the wine for quality …

DF: Quality, character, various categories of fruit, herbs and all those things.  I’m looking at all those categories.

TG: How do you know you’ve accomplished that?  How do you do that?

DF: As long as I’ve filled all those boxes I’m content.  Like everybody else I’m looking for some kind of conclusion.  I’m also trying to figure out which of those boxes is important to me.  Then I’ll spend a lot of time talking about that because it’s something I’m hanging my hat on. 

TG: Is that something like an initial impression or is it something you get as you progress through the wine?

DF: It could be either one.  I would love it to be an initial impression but half the times it’s not.

TG: When you smell the wine, in terms of the grid, is it something you see and periodically check in with? 

DF: Sometimes I’ll imagine it as it is on the slide.  Other times it’s just dialogue.  I know in my mind what I’m supposed to do because the slides don’t exactly sync up with where I want to go. 

TG: So how do you do that?

DF: It’s just like saying the rosary: do flowers and then do spices. That’s how you do it?

TG: OK but I’m trying to figure out how you do that.  So if you smell this wine what is the first thing you check for?

DF: Whatever it smells like, in other words that first impression. The first thing I’m looking for is fruit and then probably flowers.  But that’s completely contextual as I was drinking Riesling last night.  Had I been drinking Bordeaux I wouldn’t have been looking for flowers. 

TG: I’m just trying to get back to your seeing slides.  How do you do that?

DF: Sometimes I remember the slides as they set up on the screen.  But most of the time I’m just doing it again, like saying the rosary, almost automatically.

TG: So if I was you, where would I see the slides?

DF: Not anywhere particularly, I just go into a memory; I just remember what that slide looks like.  The only thing that would perhaps be interesting to you is that the slide I’m looking at is just as likely to be an overhead as it is anything else (laughs).  It’s old school. 

TG: OK, so I’m watching your eyes when you’re talking about the slides and they go pretty consistently in three places, here , here and here (the positions are literally slightly left, center and slightly right in front of his face).  Where are you looking?

DF: I think I told you that one of my daughters has said since she was six years old, “watch me, I’m Dad drinking wine.” And her eyes go back and forth like mine. 

TG: True because you’re processing a lot of different things. Back to the overheads.  Are they out in front? To the sides?  Where are they?

DF: Again it’s a particular memory and it might well be just the screen in front of me.  I’m so used to looking at the screen.  But it’s not consistent.  Most of the time I wouldn’t need to draw on it because I would just go in a particular order. 

TG: It almost sounds like it’s auditory as well.  Are you saying things to yourself?

DF: No, it’s not auditory. 

TG: As you smell the wine what do you do?  Your eyes consistently go several places in rapid succession.  But for today it would be great just to pick out a specific fruit or other element in the wine and try figure out how you do it. 

DF: My eyes do go back and forth but they settle in once I get something.  The first thing is savory. 

TG: Savory such as …

DF: Right now the wine is minty, basil and wet and dried leaves—some sort of herbal origin. 

TG: If I had to be you, how would I do that? How do you know you’re smelling those things? What do you see?

DF: I’ll try but I really don’t get any particular images.  I did read your article and thought about it but images is not what I’m working from.  

TG: I think you probably do it but at micro-speed.  Your eye movements are the fastest of anyone I’ve ever seen.  So if we can just slow one of them down I would be curious to see what’s there.

DF: The whole thing for me, even now as I think about the fruit in the wine I didn’t envision a black cherry.  I’m more likely to see the label on a can or jar when I try to picture black cherries.  I don’t necessarily see a black cherry.

TG: So there’s a label?

DF: Well as I call it up I can do that but I’m not sure that’s how I’m associating aroma.  But to your point, I don’t know that. 

TG: But if I ask you, for instance, what does a tangerine smell like?  What do you do?  Do you see the color orange?

DG: Yes, definitely.

TG: Do you see a picture of the tangerine? 

DF: Eventually. Let’s switch it out.  For a blueberry it’s not very strong recall, I’m more likely to … It’s certainly the fruit I’m trying to imagine but it’s more like the color or a slice of that fruit.  I’m trying to go through the process now in my mind to get an idea of what the process looks like.  As I think about pineapple I’m more likely to think about sliced pineapple then a whole fresh pineapple—so I’m not looking at a whole pineapple. 

TG: To a great extent though the content is not really that important.  You do seem to bring something up.

DF: Yes, sure. 

TG: So with the canned or sliced pineapple, if you get that can you show me where it is?

DF: It’s pretty much right in front of me.

TG: 2D or 3D picture?

DF: It’s three dimensional. 

TG: So is this framed or just sitting there in space?

DF: I’m switching out fruit now and thinking about blueberries.  It’s right in front of me and I’m looking at a close up of a blueberry. 

TG: So what happens if you take the close up of the blueberry and move it right up in front of your face?  Does the intensity increase?

DF: No, same.

TG: What happens if make the image tiny?

DF: The whole process doesn’t make any sense to me.  Make what tiny? I know what you’re saying but …

TG: OK so make it black and white.  Take the color out of it.

DF: It doesn’t have aroma then.

TG: OK, at least we know that.  What happens if you make the blueberry enormous? Like a billboard.

DF: Again, that doesn’t make any sense to me.  In other words, the image I’m working on doesn’t change shape, it’s the same size. 

TG: Can you change the shape?

DF: That would be something different. 

TG: Doug, make it a giant blueberry.  What happens? Do the aromas get stronger or weaker?

DF: I understand, I’m just trying to give you legitimate answers.  It doesn’t change.  I suppose if we’re making it really big it becomes more two dimensional and not real.

TG: I want to go back to the idea of picking out something in the glass and how you know it’s not something else.  Is there a system where you compare it to other things?  I’m still trying to figure out your eye movements.  I have to tell you that your eyes just go nuts when you’re smelling. Your eyes are constantly going back and forth seeing and comparing different things. 

DF: (laughs) I don’t know.  But certainly I was never aware of the eye movements until my daughter starting mocking it about eighteen years ago. 

TG: But how could you possibly be aware of it?

DF: Because one is self-conscious at time when you taste with other people.  So maybe I had been aware of it but not really until my daughter pointed it out. 

TG: Right and that’s also part of how you think in terms of eye accessing cues.  Your eyes move to help access parts of your brain and your memory. Go ahead and smell the wine and let me know what you pick up. 

DF: It’s definitely funky.  What is that?  There’s also something that like olive paste mixed with black cherry goop and then there’s that savory element too. 

TG: What’s that right there?  That’s the first time you’ve held your eyes in one place for longer than a few seconds.

DF: Right.  I’m trying to sort it out, focus on the wine and now how I’m actually doing it. 

TG: Most people have a starting eye position and it seems like you have a starting sequence of about three different positions in rapid succession. Right here, here and here.  But I’m just trying to figure out what you do.  How do you figure out what things are?  If you put your nose in the glass, how do you know it’s blackberry and not a garage door?  If I had to be you, how would I do it?

DF: Well, I’m not sure and this wine is a bit funky.  I’ll have to work harder to dig more out of it.  So, how many people do you taste with that taste with their eyes closed?

TG: Not many, but you can still watch their eyes move with their eyes closed.

DF: Just wondered.

TG: I will tell you that almost everyone looks down when they smell wine because that’s where most of us look when we talk to ourselves.  But getting back on track, let’s see if we can’t figure out more. It sounds like since we’ve been trained, you go off the grid.

DF: Right.

TG: So how do you see the grid? How do you know you haven’t forgotten anything?

DF: It’s a little bit oral.

TG: Are you talking to yourself?

DF: It’s an audible cue because I’ve said it to myself.

TG: So you’re internally saying, what about fruit, what about earth, etc.

DF: Right.  With red wines I typically have to force myself to floral so at some point when I’ve stopped receiving information, or believing that I’ve stopped receiving new information that is important, I’ll say, “come one, let’s get on the grid.” So Somewhere in my brain I’ve made that mental command. 

TG: so once you’ve received the information, does it go somewhere so you don’t worry about it but still know it’s there?

DF: No, I try to capture it in some way.  I’ll be taking notes and writing but instead I’m trying to mentally recall this.  It’s almost as if it’s a Scrabble board and I put black cherry over here.

TG: OK so not to be a pain in the ass, but when you say “put black cherry over here,” what do you mean by that?

DF: I put the word black cherry over here (motions chest high to the left).  But not an image.

TG: Interesting, so you deal with images of words and maybe not the actual thing you’re smelling. 

DF: Right.  I chalk it up again to being a city boy and seeing a package of black cherries and not a black cherry. 

TG: But there sounds like a system where if you smell something you generate a word that represents whatever it is.

DF: Yes and I can shift the words off to the left and right as I get new information.

TG: That’s a really interesting system—it sounds as if the words hang around to the left and right of your internal field.  So you can look at them again when you go to make a conclusion or to just think about the wine.  True?

DF: Right but it’s very much like speaking, as it were, like when you’re trying to give a talk and you’re trying to remember to talk about this, this and this.

TG: So it’s like a check list.

DF: Right. To me it’s a very similar experience where I have to put the black cherry over here so I remember to say it.

TG: But it also sounds like the images of whatever you smell then become words.  Is that how it works?

DF: They’re very much words.

TG: Which is why when I talk about images it sounds like Martian to you?

DF: (Laughs) Yes, it’s fairly Martian to me although color even though it is a real concept just doesn’t work that well for me.  I honestly think it’s because I have a very pedantic notion of what smells are.  They’re still kind of new to me. 

TG: Pedantic meaning …

DF: That I’ll smell it, try to figure out what it is, give it a name and put it over here (motions to the left with his left hand about chest high).  I have to dig deeper before I’ll find some kind of image.  But the words are first.  (Pauses).  But you know they couldn’t all possibly be words.  Some are words and some are images.

TG: I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all images initially and then they turned into words--and that’s your system for finding things. 

DF: Possibly. 

TG: Because maybe seeing the word triggers something else. 

DF: Seeing the word is definitely part of the process.  I was thinking about the olive note in the wine and probably briefly saw some olive tapenade.  I wasn’t going to say tapenade but then it made me think of ground up olives.  Then that turns into the words black olives.

TG: And if I wanted to be really picky about it, when you see the image of black olives, is it close, far away?  Where is it? Does the locating have to do with how strong the intensity is?

DF: I can’t generate any truthful answer to that.  For me I’m too busy trying to figure out what these other funky smells in the glass are.  There’s some kind of swamp gas going on here.

TG: I’m not sure why I picked a Rhone wine as both of these have been funky (note the first bottle opened was corked).  How do you know when you’re done smelling the wine?

DF: When I find myself repeating the same things over and over.  Then I’m done smelling the wine.  Most of the time with a wine like this I don’t think I’m ever done.  Last night with a Dönhhoff Riesling I just had one descriptor, grapefruit pie.  That’s all it was with diced pineapple candies.  But every time you back to a wine like that you do get more information or at least you hope you do.  And if you don’t, then you get bored.

TG: Well let’s taste it.

DF: I don’t want to taste it yet because I haven’t identified everything.  (Smells the wine) So it’s like a black cherry, red plum; there’s a little bit a blueberry to it.  Then in terms of flowers there’s nothing to worry about.  There’s also nothing to worry about in the American oaky kind of a thing.  I definitely do try to draw up an image surrounding a barrel; the outside of the staves and the inside of the staves.  I literally try to picture that. 

TG: So where’s that?

DF: Over here somewhere (points out front and slightly to the right).

TG: Does the size of the image depend on the intensity of the aromas?

DF: No, just my point of reference. 

TG: So just to get some detail, is this image some kind of screen?  Is it in 3D?  What’s it like?

DF: It’s just a partial image of a barrel.

TG: Flat?  Three dimensional?

DF: Three dimensional.

TG: We could play with this and ask what happens if you brighten up the image or make the colors really intense.  Does it change the intensity of the aroma?

DF: It just seems artificial; I can’t make any sense out of it.  I’m changing something that’s supposed to be a representation of something real and it becomes not real.  I don’t know what to do with that. 

TG: In other words, it doesn’t make any sense and kind of screws it up.  OK, what about everything else, the earthiness and the funkiness?

DF: Just picturing herbs, grasses, and leaves; both edible and inedible.  They’re kind of all over the place here (motions in front just above waist level). 

TG: OK.  And they’re all out in a field …

DF: No, I’m just referencing images out in front of me, like single leaves or a handful of leaves. 

TG: Do they become words? Do they need to become words or are they just there?

DF: I have to name them so I guess it’s the same process with the fruit.  I have to smell it, try to figure out what it is and then it becomes a word. 

TG: OK and just to be picky again, when you recognize something do you internally say to yourself, “oh that’s tarragon” and then the word happens?

DF: Yes, the word happens after the recognition. 

TG: So there’s almost an auditory command like, “this is X.”

DF: Yes (after a long pause), it’s definitely auditory.

TG: And it’s your voice saying, it’s X.

DF: Yes, it’s an internal voice but it’s not necessarily mine.  It’s like sometimes you’ll talk to yourself in your own voice and sometimes in a different voice.

TG: Anything else in terms of the nose of this wine you want to mention?

DF: Not really much else.  There’s a little bit of a vegative thing going on as well as the olive paste. I keep looking at various versions of the fruit now so the red cherry might be the pit.  But I think I’m making a conscious effort to sort through these visual cherries in terms of what they actually look like.

TG: Is it like trying to calibrate the quality of it or the age?

DF: Yes, but the motivation and the mindset are just that I’m trying to smell and identify things and then I can understand what the conclusion can be from that.  But right now I’m just trying to give myself to the wine and see what’s in it.

Palate

TG: Let’s do the palate.  What are you goals when you taste the wine?  For me, I’ve done 80% of the work when I smell the wine so the only thing I’m trying to do with the palate is confirm everything and then calibrate the structure. 

DF: I’m anxious to get into it and see what the weight of the wine is; so it’s very much like I want to have physical contact with the wine. 

TG: But you also go through everything you’ve smelled.

DF: Yes, I’m trying to decide what’s going on.  I have got all the cherries in a row with the plums and the currants.  There’s a little bit of cranberry juice going on but those are all real physical sensations.  I don’t even drink cranberry juice. 

TG: Do you need to check in with the list of words or the pictures to confirm all these things? Is that necessary or what do you do?

DF: I’m not aware of a list of words so it’s more like it’s a list of 100 questions where I’m asking, is that currant?  OK, there’s currant, so is there cranberry?

TG: So it’s auditory and you’re asking yourself those things? That’s got to happen really fast. 

DF: I guess so.

TG: If you’re asking yourself if there’s any cranberry, are there any images?

DF: If it’s cranberry, yes other things come up because I’m in the habit of bringing other things up.  I’ll ask, why isn’t there strawberries?  Or dried strawberries?  It’s pretty much associative which is a sequence built on habit and not logic.  Or maybe it’s built on logic but it’s not on what’s coming out of the glass.  That’s because I’m one of those people who has to stay disciplined or else go off on a tangent. 

TG: As in stream of consciousness? 

DF: Or unconsciousness. And right now I’m getting a note of raisin maybe because I looked for it but I’m not seeing an image of it.  I can call it out by saying it but the first thing that happened was a word and not an image. 

TG: Does the list of words change at all when you taste the wine?  Or do the words just hang out there?

DF: Hopefully but some of them are fading away.  I’m trying to pull them back up again but with limited success.

TG: So you build the list of words as construct with the nose and then when you taste it and something’s not strong it just goes away or you forget about it. 

DF: Yes.

TG: So when you taste it, it might confirm it and reinforce it? Or is it not that important?

DF: Well it is important but it might be an addition image of the word black cherry as opposed to the original word getting bold and big.

TG: So when you say an additional image of the word, would it be positioned somewhere else?

DF: (motions in front and left of center) No, it would be positioned right next to the other image.  Visually it’s as if there are two images of the word black cherry literally right next to each other.  So I’ll go, “Wow, there’s a lot of black cherry.”

TG: Got it.

DF: And I’ve had that physical sensation before that there’s five words “black cherry” in front of me.  This is of course what we do when we try to grid a wine. 

TG: True, if you think about it that’s exactly what we try to do.  If four or five of us say one thing then we think it’s important in the wine.  What about structure?  What do you do when you taste for structure? 

DF: I’m going to start the process over again.  So I’m just tasting for sensation.  I’m not even thinking about structure at this point.  And then I can start physically feeling the tannins or there are literally seed tannins which I’m interpreting as more painful than fruit tannins and skin tannins.  The fruit keeps coming in and there’s a little bit of an image there, some kind of juice.  Then for me the whole structural thing is an intellectual decision.  I’m just taking the information I have and saying that must be medium plus tannins. 

TG: OK, but how do you know it’s not just medium tannins?

DF: Well I don’t know that it’s not medium.  I have to make an intellectual assessment.  I get too much physical sensation on my tongue and in the back of my tongue—in this case I think it’s more seed tannins—for it to be medium.  So I’m still getting more of the physical pin prick of tannins.  Certainly a very dry flavor in my mouth.  And I look back at those fruits and go, well it’s moving more towards cranberry along with black cherry and raisin.  It’s medium acid and it’s as if somebody has a couple of different wines in here because some of the fruit is desiccated, dehydrated and raisinated and some of the fruit wasn’t—it’s very red cherry.  So it’s like somebody put a couple of different wines together. 

TG: Just in terms of calibrating, if you have to give someone an answer about structure, just like we make our students do, how do you go about giving someone an answer?

DG: I’m medium acidity and medium plus tannins with this wine.

TG: Yes, but how do you know? How do you get precise about it?

DF: It’s just an intellectual decision that I would expect more pain with high tannins.  I would expect not to be able to notice raisins with more than medium acidity.  On the other hand, I would understand if somebody said that it’s medium plus acidity.  I might argue with them but it’s completely intellectual for me.

TG: OK, so not to be a pain in the ass but what do you mean by completely intellectual?

DF: I must mean that if anything I’m looking at the grid, really more at the slide that has the low, medium minus etc.

TG: So do you actually see these things and then point to something and go “it’s medium.”

DF: Yes.

TG: That’s exactly the way I do it, I see almost a kind of slide rule with a red button that moves and finally stops at the right level of acid or whatever. 

DF: My moves but you hope it starts in the right place and often it doesn’t. 

TG: Got it. 

DF: So with tannin I might say that it’s not painful enough.  But that’s a very intellectual decision in comparing all the other wines with high tannin I’ve had and then saying, “This one doesn’t hurt.”

TG: The scale is really interesting to me because I think most people need some kind of visual construct to be able to calibrate well; especially is a wine is acidic and tannic at the same time. 

DF: Absolutely, we always struggle with that and I don’t know that we have the answer either because again, we are tasting pH and not acid. 

TG: Home stretch.  OK, if you were going to describe to someone what you do when you taste the wine, what would it be like?  You take a sip … what do you do?


DF: Very much trying to pull flavor out of it the whole time.  I pull it in to try to get the physical sensation of tannin but now I’m sitting here comparing it to things. And probably comparing it to visual images than words.  I definitely feel more of a black cherry paste and that was probably prompted by the vision of black cherry paste, whatever that is.  Maybe in a pie.  But maybe it’s not in a pie, somebody’s screwed up that fruit and I’m envisioning a mortar and pestle like fruit and sort of an olive paste image comes up as well. 

TG: So going back to these images, or they jars or cans or what? Or just smears of things?

DF: More smears.  Getting some black pepper and I see some peppercorns and not a pepper grinder. 

TG: If you had to take any of these images and we start changing the structure of any of them, what happens? Does it make it artificial?

DF: Yes it does.  It doesn’t make any sense.  I tried to do it with the black peppercorns, make them bigger and my reaction is, “what the hell is that all about?” It takes me off task I guess is the more important thing there.  

TG: So it changes the experience so completely that it doesn’t mean anything?

DF: I think that if there’s a value, as you’re describing it, in changing the size of the word “black pepper” then that doesn’t alter anything at all because that’s a different process.  I’ve this sort of array of words in front of me and if you want me to make the words black pepper bigger then it’s no problem.  It doesn’t seem weird or destructive at all.  But if I try to make the image or the black peppercorns bigger then I feel like I’ve been taken off task. 

TG: OK so that’s the system.  So let’s finish up.  How do you know when you’re finished tasting a wine?

DF: I don’t think I’m ever finished tasting a wine although there are some boring wines.  There’s always information that I’ve screwed up and missed. 

TG: One thing I skipped over at the very beginning that I’d still like to ask: when you make a conclusion, what are you trying to do?

DF: Describe it appropriately; describe it in a way that others would recognize the wine.  That’s my conclusion and hopefully I’ve described it correctly.  But as we talked about previously, I’m also trying to decide, is this wine going anywhere?  Do I give a shit about this wine? It’s the first thing I do and I’m convinced that it’s because I was a salesman.  I wasn’t into wine until I was selling wine.  So the first thing I think about is, who would I sell this to? Who would like it?  Who would get this wine?  But I always think in those terms of who would get it versus who would like it.  Or I guess I do.  I tend to think that certain people tend to understand certain things and others don’t.  We all understand different things.  I get this wine we’re tasting but I don’t really care about it.  Does that make sense?

TG: Sure it does.  The last thing before I let you get out of here and head to the airport is what are your beliefs about yourself as a taster?

DF: That I’ve got some skills that are very useful; that I have to be very disciplined intellectually to be consistent because consistency is my biggest fault. 

TG: Does being at the level you are and being considered a great taster, does that matter when you sit down to work? 

DF: Does it matter to me?

TG: Yes, does it matter?

DF: Yes, it does.  It’s like I feel like I have to be more disciplined because I know the truth is that I’m not a great taster. 

TG: What?

DF: No, seriously, that’s how I feel about it.  I can do things because I’ve figured out some stuff. 

TG: You’ve figured out, what, how to pass exams? 

DF: Yes and I figured out how to intellectually take these things apart.  But I don’t consider myself a great taster at all.  I just know that I’ve managed to figure it out so that I can act as if I’m a great taster. 

TG: True. It’s amazing what you can do if you just pretend.

DF: And of course it’s not all pretense but it’s definitely a little bit of a role play because I have some things that I’m good and some things I’m not.  Most of the times you don’t know which is which. 

On a cold, damp and foggy London night five of us were crammed into one of those charming, proper and bone crushing London cabs. Dinner was at Motcombs off Sloane Street south of the park just a stone’s throw from Harrods.  With a full bar upstairs and dining room below street level the restaurant could easily be a set in a ‘50’s Hollywood movie with low wood-beamed ceilings, cozy tables, prints of celebrities on the walls and the odd romantic deuce here and there.  But what really makes the restaurant so unique in the late fall is the menu.  It’s game season. 

Between 2006 and 2010 I had the privilege and great pleasure of helping with the Master’s Exam in London four times.  Over the years the U.K. exam has been a smaller event with anywhere from 14 to 25 students compared to the 60-70 candidates that regularly take the exam in the U.S.  In London the exam is given over two days at couple of the city’s finest hotels; the Capital and the world-famous Dorchester.  The theory exam is given on day one at the Capital with the tasting and service exams at the Dorchester on day two with a reception and dinner following at the hotel.  But dinner on the first night has traditionally been held at Motcombs. 

This was my fourth dinner at Motcombs and the only difference was the conspicuous absence of the legendary Val Brown.  Percival Brown has been a mainstay of the local wine and spirits trade for the last 70+ years. His career began in the mid 1940’s and he is without doubt among the who’s who of the London trade.  Val’s energy is boundless and his jokes pointed and innumerable. Val’s presence also means several mystery bottles of Bordeaux to be blind tasted during the meal.  Mind you this is not the usual affair with bottles wrapped in cloth bags or foil.  The solution is far simpler due to a tragic occurrence.  The bottles Val brings to the annual Motcombs dinners are victims of a flood in one of his cellars; a flood that deprived all the bottles of their labels. Practically all the wine in this particular cellar was Bordeaux from the ‘50’s and ‘60’s. It’s then up to us, members of the examining team, to divine the vintage, commune—and if possible—the chateaux behind these mystery bottles.  Having little personal experience with tasting claret from the ‘60’s I have to say that the wines are striking but not for the reasons one would imagine. In style the wines from Val’s cellar are about as far away from today’s Bordeaux as the Dog Star.  Without exception they show the depth of color somewhere between aged Reserva Rioja and grand cru Burgundy. Bottles I tasted in the past such as 1963 Gruaud-Larose, 1966 Lynch-Bages and 1960 Léoville-Barton were medium-bodied wines at best--elegant, refined, autumnal and very complex.  For the record I never had luck identifying much of anything but fellow U.K. Master’s Brian Julyan and Brian Dawes were usually spot on with vintages and communes—sometimes Chateaux—having grown up with the wines during the early part of their careers.

But again on this night Val couldn't make dinner as he had a previous engagement with one of his kids that couldn’t be broken.  So we raised a glass in his honor and then set about to examining the menu for dinner.  Past meals at the restaurant provided me an opportunity to try several different game birds but tonight the only game listed on the menu was the gamiest of them all—grouse.  I had grouse on my first visit to the restaurant and remember it as microscopically as my first Fernet Branca.  The two have a lot in common—they’re completely bitter in taste.  I’m not sure why this little feathery friend has such a strong liver flavor but it does so in spades.  Perhaps it’s like other denizens of the animal kingdom that upon the rush of unexpected and usually dramatic death release various chemical substances into their blood stream as a final defiant “screw you” gesture to the universe at large.  But I don’t think that’s true here.  Fellow MS Nigel Wilkinson informed us fact that most grouse is now domestically raised only to be released just before the fall season.  If true, then surely these poor little mutant birds, roughly half the size of a not-so-free-range chicken, grow up somehow knowing that they will be fattened up briefly before being released into the “wild” only to be blown not quite to bits by some great hunter.  So perhaps these little bastards bitter up right out of the egg knowing of their imminent and kablooey demise. 

Whatever the case I was not about to pass up the opportunity to partake and I did so and done medium, thank you.  After appetizers and Champagne were enjoyed my roasted friend appeared on a massive oval plate perched atop a large piece of toast.  The waiter offered sides to accompany the festively bitter fowl including a rich gravy, some kind of wobbly white gelatinous substance, and fine roasted breadcrumbs.  I opted just for the gravy.  A large slab of bacon was draped over the top of the bird offering a salt and fat counterpoint to the gamey, impending bitterness.  I tucked in and relished one of the great epicurean traditions of the fall season, hunting, and the sacrifice of all things small and plucked.  And it was good.