Good friend Doug Frost is the second among only five 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, the latter which is now in its seventeenth year. He also 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. 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 is 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: The latter 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: 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: 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: 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: 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. 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.” Somewhere in my brain I’ve made that mental command.  

TG: 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: 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: If I wanted to be really picky about it, when you see the image of black olives, is it close up or far away? Where is it? Does the location 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 Rhône 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 again). 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: 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 aroma? 

DF: No, just my point of reference.  

TG: Just to get some detail, is this image on 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 vegetal 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: 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. 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: 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. It’s like somebody put a couple of different wines together.  

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

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

TG: Do you actually see these things and then point to something and say, “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: 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 if 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 we are tasting pH and not acid.  

TG: Home stretch. 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: In 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 it’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. 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: 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. 

This is the fourth and final post of my list of markers for classic grapes and wines. The last post included markers for Cabernet family grapes, Pinot Noir, and Gamay. This final post will include markers for Rhône grapes and more. As I’ve previously written, the intent of posting my list of markers is for the reader and/or student to use them as a starting point for putting their own list together. I hope this helps in some way. A santé!

VI. Grenache

Southern Rhône Grenache Blend

Sight: medium to deep ruby.
Nose: ripe, intense baked red and black fruits, wild savory herb (garrigue), black and white pepper, mushroom, stony earth, and large wood (not barrique). Some wines display pronounced game, dried meat and soy/jerky qualities.
Palate: full-bodied and dry to bone dry.  
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium-plus to high. 
 
ID Keys: the best Southern Rhône blends like Châteauneuf-du-Papes and Gigondas combine ripe-baked red and black fruits, high alcohol, pepper, garrigue, stony earth, and considerable tannins. Stylistically, lower-end wines such as simple Côte du Rhone are light, fruity, and sometimes made with carbonic maceration. Wines from better appellations such as the two above can be powerful, tannic, and very age worthy.

Australian Old Vines Grenache

Sight: deep, opaque ruby red.
Nose: ripe, powerful, intense red and black fruits with black pepper-spice, pronounced mint-eucalyptus, a touch of earthiness, vanilla, and oak spice.  
Palate: full-bodied, powerful, and dry. 
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium-plus to high.  
 
ID Keys: a full-throttled red with very ripe, jammy red fruits, pepper-spice, and a pronounced minty quality, with high alcohol and lots of tannin.  
 
VII. Syrah

Northern Rhône

Sight: medium to deep ruby with purple highlights.
Nose: black and red fruits, white and black pepper, floral, sour green plum, bacon/smoked meat, Mediterranean herbs, tobacco ash, stone-mineral, and oak.
Palate: medium to full-bodied and dry to bone dry.
Structure: alcohol: medium to medium-plus; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium-plus to high.  
 
ID Keys: look for the combination of floral, red and black fruits, pepper, greengage (sour green plum), tobacco ash, smoky-meats, and stony minerality.    
 
Australian Shiraz - Barossa

Sight: opaque ruby purple.
Nose: ripe, concentrated black fruits as well as red and dried fruits; also black and white pepper, sweet spice, leather, and wood. American oak is traditionally used giving the wines pronounced vanillin, coconut, baking spices, and sawdust. It's also important to note that many producers now use French oak or a combination of French and American oak. 
Palate: full bodied and dry.  
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium to medium-plus and infrequently high. 
 
ID Keys: typical Barossa Shiraz is rich, ripe, and powerful, and can sometimes be confused with Zinfandel. Shiraz usually displays more depth of color than Zin; also look for the emphasis of black fruits, pepper, mint, leather and the use of American Oak. Mint and eucalyptus notes are very common. 

VIII. Mourvèdre

France: Bandol

Sight: very deep ruby.
Nose: ripe black and red fruits, pronounced savory herb, pepper-spice, reductive earth-farmyard, and wood. 
Palate: full-bodied and bone dry to dry. 
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium-plus to medium-high; tannin: medium-plus to high.  
 
ID Keys: Mourvèdre-based wines combine ripe fruit, savory herb, and earthy aromas with considerable tannins. Some wines display considerable reductive qualities as well.

Spain: Monastrell – Murcia/Jumilla

Sight: opaque ruby purple.
Nose: ripe even jammy black fruits with fig, date, and prune; also savory herbs, pepper-spice, and vanilla-oak notes.
Palate: full-bodied and dry with ripe fruit and more earthiness than on the nose.
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium to medium-plus.  

ID Keys: Monastrell from Jumilla combines ripe, jammy fruits, savory herb, and notes of both mineral and earth—but not nearly the tannin as found in wines from Bandol.  

IX. Nebbiolo

Piedmont: Barolo and Barbaresco

Sight: medium to deep ruby-garnet with considerably rim variation. Orange and brown can be found at the rim even in young wines. 
Nose: rose petal floral, tar, dried red cherry and cranberry, vegetal-forest floor, mushroom/truffle-earth, and wood; a unique combination of floral and earthy aromas. 
Palate: medium to full-bodied and bone dry.  
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium-plus to high; tannin: high. 
 
ID Keys: color gradation (orange in the rim), high acidity, and very high tannins make Nebbiolo fairly easy to recognize.  Also look for the dried fruit and floral qualities. The wines are often austere, tart, and incredibly tannic when young.  

X. Sangiovese

Tuscany: Chianti Classico

Sight: medium to deep ruby. Can display rim variation in youth.
Nose: bright red fruits with tomato leaf-green herb, sandalwood, chalky earth, and wood notes. Some wines have Cabernet blended in and display darker fruit qualities as well.
Palate: medium to full-bodied and dry. 
Structure: alcohol: medium to medium-plus; acidity: medium-plus to high; tannin: medium-plus to medium-high.

ID Keys: tart red (and black) fruits, anise/herbs, sandalwood, chalky earth, and high acidity are key factors. The use of Cabernet and new oak can alter the Sangiovese character, sometimes considerably.

Brunello di Montalcino: Brunellos are made from 100% Sangiovese Grosso and see longer time in wood by law; thus the wines tend to be more evolved on release than a typical Chianti Classico or Vino Nobile.  
 
Vino Nobile di Montepulciano: Vino Nobiles are allowed up to 30% other grape varieties other than Sangiovese and often display more black fruit characteristics as well as a larger percentage of new wood.  
 
XI. Barbera

Italy: Piedmont

Sight: medium ruby to ruby purple.
Nose: bright, tart black and red fruits, bitter green herb, floral, and mushroom-earth. Small barriques are sometimes used and give the wines vanilla, sweet spice, and toast notes.
Palate: medium to medium-plus bodied and dry to bone dry.  
Structure: alcohol: medium to medium-plus: acidity: medium-plus to high; tannin: medium to medium-plus. 

XII. Tempranillo

Spain: Rioja Reserva and Gran Reserva

Sight: medium to deep ruby garnet.
Nose: dried red fruits, dried herb, and sunbaked earth; traditionally made wines show pronounced American oak character (dill-dried herb, vanillin, sweet spice, sawdust).
Palate: medium to medium-plus bodied and bone dry to bone.  
Structure: alcohol: medium to medium-plus; acidity: medium-plus; tannin: medium to medium-plus.  
 
ID Keys: traditional Rioja Reserva combines dried red fruits, leather, earth, and pronounced American oak flavors. Gran Reserva wines show even more oxidative character. It’s important to note that more producers are using French oak or a combination of French and American oak. 

XIII. Zinfandel

California--Dry Creek Valley

Sight: medium to deep ruby.
Nose: a combination of red, black, and dried fruits with black and/or white pepper, bramble-briar, sweet spices, oak, and high alcohol. Some wines also display notes of peach-apricot and yogurt.
Palate: full-bodied and usually dry, but full-bodied wines often display jammy or stewed fruit with a touch of residual sugar.  
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium to medium-plus.  
 
ID Keys: the tendency for Zinfandel to ripen unevenly is a key to recognition; some wines will show both raisiny and under ripe fruit in the same glass. Generally, Zinfandel tends to be a full-throttle red with ripe, jammy fruit, and pepper-spice qualities.

XIV. Carmenère

Chile

Sight: deep ruby.
Nose: ripe black fruits with pronounced pyrazenic notes: green peppercorn, green herb/pepper-vegetal. A touch of earthiness is common. 
Palate: medium to full-bodied and dry. 
Structure: alcohol: medium to medium-plus; acidity; medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium to medium-plus.  
 
ID Keys: Carmenère  is similar to Merlot with supple fruit, but the vegetal green peppercorn qualities make it unique and unmistakable.  
 
XV. Malbec

Argentina: Mendoza

Sight: deep ruby purple.
Nose: ripe black cherry/berry and cassis with tart cranberry secondary notes; also violet, green herb, iron/blood, and wood spices. Some wines can display a touch of dusty earthiness.
Palate: medium-plus to full-bodied and dry.
Structure: alcohol: medium-plus to high; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium to medium-plus. 
 
ID Keys: a combination of deep purple color, ripe and unripe fruits and floral qualities. 

XVI. Pinotage

South Africa

Sight: medium to deep ruby. 
Nose: blackberry, mulberry, green pepper, peppercorn, green herb, iron/blood, and medicinal notes. 
Palate: medium to full-bodied and dry. 
Structure: alcohol: medium to medium-plus; acidity: medium to medium-plus; tannin: medium to medium-plus.

ID Keys: bright black fruits and the peppery-medicinal-band aid quality are keys to recognizing Pinotage. 

I’m just back from ten days on the road; a trip split between three Alto Adige wine seminars in Denver, D.C., and New York, and a trip to Germany for the Weinbörse, the big annual spring wine fair. While the likes of such a sojourn may sound glamorous, anyone who travels for a living will tell you that most of it is spent looking at the inside of hotels, cabs, and planes, not to mention the long periods of time in various inert, semi-functioning states. But there was plenty of upside to this trip with the buzz generated by Alto Adige wines (see earlier post) and tasting the outstanding 2012 vintage for German Riesling. More on the latter will follow in my next post. Until then, here are bits of wisdom gained from the road.

Bee Death Smells Like Bananas

This gem offered by Haley Dale from Omaha who was on the Germany segment of the trip. Haley’s restaurant, the Grey Plume, is a farm-to-table concept and her commitment—no, make that obsession--to deliver the freshest local ingredients to her guests includes the likes of keeping bees in her back yard for their prized honey. However, she warns that the worst thing one can do before working with bees is to eat bananas. That’s because the hormone given off by a bee that’s just stung you, as in a bee that has just given up its life by stinging you to protect the rest of the hive, smells like bananas. So those ripe banana slices on the breakfast cereal you’re enjoying as you read the celebrity column right before you amble out to check out the hive will instantly signify serial death to the inhabitants and give the signal to attack. Bee forewarned.

They Have Wine Queens in Germany

On the first morning of our German itinerary we were graced by the presence of one Sabine Wagner who, as it turns out, is the 2013 Rheingau Wine Queen. I’m not sure about the selection process or the requirements for being a wine queen, but I will tell you that Sabine was lovely, charming, and wore a very cute tiara that would surely be the envy of most any nine-year-old girl. She was also accompanied by another woman who was the wine queen from a smaller region. Together, they provided color commentary in English about the drizzly landscape as we sped past in our uber-designed German bus. They also excelled at photo ops which I gather is part of the job description. For the record, I also have to mention that there was a grape queen at the spring wine ball that night pictured below. Her costume was pretty amazing. It probably weighed a ton as well.

It’s Spargel Season 

It’s spring in Germany and that means it’s time for spargel or white asparagus. Spargel is truly a delicacy, far more subtle than its aggressive green cousin. The Germans obsess about spring and Spargel. How do they enjoy it? Simply steamed and served with Hollandaise sauce accompanied by Speck (thinly sliced cured ham) and roasted potatoes. Wine pairing? Silvaner from Franconia is ausgezeichnet (excellent)!  Han Wirsching’s Spätlese Trocken would be a perfect match. Does eating spargel make your pee stink? Yes it does, but not nearly as much as green asparagus. However, eat enough spargel over a period of several days and everything about you, from your clothes to various aspects of your fabulous physique, will indeed have a delightfully pungent vegetal air. That’s not a bad thing. I think it’s called personal terroir.

The Shower Challenge

What’s the greatest road challenge when it comes a hotel room? Remembering your room number? Not quite, although that certainly makes life a bit easier. It’s not figuring out the thermostat either. That’s a close second because some of them are either so arcane or so complicated as to be unworkable. When it doubt, turn it off unless it’s either freezing or boiling in the room. In which case, call the front desk and make them fix it.  


The greatest hotel room challenge of all is the shower, specifically figuring out how the shower works. I’m firmly convinced that there are completely evil and/or monumentally stupid individuals who design hotel bathroom showers; hotel showers so utterly lacking in functionality that it’s almost as if the job of designing them was handed to a herd of goats. Allow me get beyond my rant for just a moment by providing the following bit of sage advice: make sure you know how the shower works before you actually have to use it—as in the following morning. I say that from more than one tragic experience.
 
Unless you’re one of the compulsive types who gets up two hours before they actually have to be anywhere, the last 20 minutes of your morning routine—as in when you shower and actually get ready—are crunch time. There’s absolutely no room for error and that’s exactly when the unsuspecting bather is waylaid by the dark gods of poor hotel bathroom design. That’s when the panic-stricken bather, not unlike the newsprint besmeared victim of Psycho, realizes that it takes ten minutes for tepid—not hot—water to appear from the faucet; that the drain doesn’t work and one is quickly up to their knees with water that looks like toxic waste; that the towels are not in the bathroom as they should be but are, in fact, in another room as in Fiji;  that there are multiple lethal shower heads that will attack with shocking force from all angles with ice cold water if the precise combination of several dials is not applied. Showers, my friends, can be dangerous. Test-drive them the night before needed use. You will be glad you did.

For a country about half the size of Texas, Italy is a land of extremes. In the south, Sicily is closer to Tunisia than Rome with Mediterranean and African influences visible across the cultural spectrum. In the far north, Alto Adige is almost as equally removed from the universally held stereotype of a Tuscan landscape of misty hills lined with Cyprus trees dotted by the occasional terracotta topped villa. The region was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the end of WWI. Bolzano, its major city of some 100,000-plus, is just a leisurely 90 minute drive from Innsbruck Austria, site of the 1976 winter Olympics. It’s no surprise that over 70% of the people in Alto Adige primarily speak German and rarely Italian. 
 
Several times during my recent stay I overheard one of the local winery contacts say that they had gone to school in “Italy” or were about to head south to vacation in “Italy.” I would remind said person that we actually were in Italy only to be met with a shrug and the briefest hint of a smile. Regionality, as it does elsewhere in Italy, runs deep. I can’t blame any of them. One look at Bolzano and its surroundings and you’re definitely not in mainstream Italy, much less Kansas. Take, for instance, the remarkably steep hills encompassing the Santa Magdalena DOC that jut up dramatically from the northwest section of the city you’ll know why. With its black diamond slope terraced vineyard, one could easily be in the Wachau of Austria or the Mittel Rhein of Germany.  
 
In terms of wine production, Alto Adige is one of the Italy’s smallest regions with just over 5,000 growers farming some 13,000 acres. Napa Valley, by comparison, has over 39,000 acres under vine while the Chianti DOCG has over 41,000 acres planted. But quality here is king with over 98% of the wines produced of DOC level. The region’s climate combines alpine influence with warm temperatures during the growing season. That’s because the Dolomites and the Swiss and Austrian Alps in the north act as an enormous rain shadow protecting the area from temperature extremes during the winter. Mediterranean influence from the south makes for some of the hottest temps in Italy during the summer. Together both create wide diurnal shifts with a marked separation between high daytime and low night temperatures. For viticulture, that means the fruit—both apples and grapes--achieves good ripeness levels and yet retains high natural acidity, a magic combination that makes the wines versatile and in some cases lends considerable potential to age. 
 
The Alto Adige region is patchwork of valleys and mountains with vineyards planted between 600 and 3,300 feet. The soils range from calcareous and limestone near the ever-present Dolomites, to volcanic porphyry and moraines, the remains of glaciers that retreated from the region some five to six million years ago. The region is home for over 20 grape varieties with the soil largely determining the variety planted; whites on the chalk and limestone closest to the Dolomites and red grapes thriving in the Moraines and porphyry-based soils.

Geography: the Flux Capacitor

Think Back to the Future movies and the Y-shaped circuit that enabled the stainless steel DeLorean to journey through time (http://backtothefuture.wikia.com/wiki/Flux_capacitor). The comparison works. Alto Adige’s three major valleys form a letter “Y” with Bolzano as its hub. 

To the northeast is Valle d’Issarco, just minutes away from the Austrian border. Chiusa and Bressanone are the most important towns and the historical abbey, Abbazia di Novicella, is one of the leading coops - producers. The abbey dates from the 12th century and the Santa Maria Assunta is one of the most beautiful small basilicas I’ve ever seen—it’s a must see. Here in the Valley d’Issarco the soils are mainly granitic and white grapes predominate with some excellent Schiava produced as well.

The Val Venosta lies to the northwest with Merano the major city. The Venosta is the driest region in Alto Adige and also one of the centers for apple production. It’s the most scarcely planted valley of the three with poryphry and volcanic soils; whites predominate plantings. The region is also known for its mild climate and Merano has long been regarded as an excellent spa town. 
 
The Oltradige valley in the south is the largest of the three valleys and the heart of Alto Adige wine production. Appiano and Caldaro are the most important villages. Limestone and porphyry soils are found as well as moraines. White wines account for 56% of the production with vineyards planted between 1,000 and 2,300 feet. The village of Tramin, a spiritual home to the Gewürztraminer grape, is also located here.

At the center of the flux capacitor is the city of Bolzano, one of the warmest parts of the entire region. Here the vineyards of the Santa Maddalena DOC rise steeply out of the northwest part of the city. The soils are poryphry-based and perfectly suited to Schiava-based reds as well as Lagrein.  
 
Coops: a Reality Check

One belief I had to quickly shed while in Alto Adige was a long-held notion that coops are mere factories cranking out oceans of wine mediocre in quality at best. Over 70% of the wine in Alto Adige is coop-produced and a lot of it is very good to outstanding. In talking to winemakers, I learned that the region’s vineyards are severely fragmented in terms of ownership just like Burgundy. Thus, like Burgundy commercial winemaking on any scale can only exist in a cooperative context. Vineyard owners are generally non-wine professionals and have had the vineyards passed down to them by older generations. The relationships between coop winemakers and vineyard owners were closer to a négociant/owner in terms of the emphasis on quality fruit and lower yields. Terlano is a perfect example of one of the several Alto Adige coops making exceptional wine.  

The Grapes

Here’s a quick survey of the major varieties from the region.

Whites

Pinot Bianco: grown throughout the region. Pinot Bianco isn’t usually a grape that gets everyone dangerously excited but I was surprised, no make that shocked, at how well it can age give the right conditions. To point, Klaus Gasser of Terlano opened bottles of the winery’s Pinot Bianco from 1982 and 1955. The ’55 was deep golden in hue and still very fresh and alive. So much for the belief that whites don’t age well. Old wine aside, Alto Adige Pinot Bianco shows bright citrus fruit with white blossom notes on the nose and steely minerality on the palate. It’s a delicious shellfish wine.

Pinot Grigio: there’s an ocean of Pinot Grigio made all over northern Italy, much of it unremarkable. The best wines from the variety are definitely from Alto Adige and combine bright green pear/pear skin, and juicy citrus fruit with wet stone minerality.  

Gewürztraminer: it’s interesting to note that in Jancis Robinson’s just published and completely brilliant tome “Wine Grapes” (over 1,200 pages and weighing in at 6.7 pounds) a listing for Gewürztraminer is missing in action. Searching the index one is pointed to the Savignin entry with the explanation that what we call Gewürztraminer is actually a genetic mutation of the other Alsace grape. Not sure what that does to the village of Tramin’s claims to be the ancestral if not spiritual home for Gewürztraminer but there you are. In terms of style, Alto Adige Gewürztraminers have all the pungent floral and spicy fruit qualities one expects from the grape without the blowsy quality. At best, the wines are luscious, spicy, and
perfumed. They’re also delectable with soft-ripened cheeses.

Riesling: the few Rieslings I tasted during the week reminded me of scaled down versions of Austrian bottlings with tart citrus fruit and stoney minerality.  

Grüner Veltliner: one comes across Grüner in the north near the Austrian border. Here the style resembles the lighter versions from the Austrian Kamptal region versus the richer Federspiel and Smaragd wines of the Wachau. Still there’s plenty of the peppery and slight vegetal notes that make Grüner so delicious.

Kerner: another grape that usually goes under the radar and for good reason—it’s not exactly riveting. But I did find several wines, most notably the Praepositus from Abbazia di Novacella, to be delicious, with ripe Fuji apple and quince notes and a wonderful floral quality.

Sylvaner: I’ve long thought the Silvaners from Franconia (especially those from Hans Wirsching) to be the best on the planet. Now I’m more than willing to concede that there are several producers making outstanding Sylvaner in Alto Adige with all the smoky succulent apple/pear and tart citrus fruits one could hope for.

Sauvignon Blanc: here is really the only instance I found a bit of identity crisis among all the Alto Adige wines. Not really a surprise given that Sauvignon Blanc suffers the same wicked fate in California as well--not knowing whether to emulate New Zealand or Sancerre, and sometimes heading directly in between with unique, sometimes bizarre results. The best Alto Adige Sauvignons were sharply etched and citrus-dominated while others suffered from either too much sulfur or too much oak. However, there is great promise for the grape here.

Moscato Giallo: thought to have been brought to the region by the ancient Romans. Dry and succulent, fully dessert sweet versions are
made.

White Blends: blends based on Chardonnay, Pinot Bianco, Sauvignon Blanc, and Pinot Grigio are a long-held tradition in Alto Adige, and they can be quite good as well as age worthy. In particular, Manicor’s Reserve della Contessa and Terlano’s Nova Domus Riserva are outstanding. 

Reds

Schiava: I’ll go out on a limb here by saying the next uber geek hipster red wine will be Schiava. It’s a wonderful combination of Pinot-elegance and tart Barbera acidity with unique savory qualities. Light in color, fairly concentrated, and Beaujolais-like, it can be served chilled and goes with any and everything. You might see it also labeled as Vernatsch or Edel Vernatsch (remember the German influence!). The best Schiava-based wines are from the Santa Maddalena DOC where they are blended with a maximum 10% Lagrein. Try one—it’s delicious!

Lagrein: other than ease of pronunciation (it rhymes with wine), Lagrein could also be the next total geek wine. Malbec-purple in color but with Merlot-soft tannins and a tart, savory, and floral character all its own. Another must try.  

Pinot Noir: the Pinots I tasted during the week reminded me of Spätburgunders from Germany with tart cranberry/rhubarb fruit, and beet, tea/herb, and earth notes. Elegance and finesse are common hallmarks.

Merlot: primarily grown in the warmer south closer to Trento; bottled both as a single varietal and blended with Cabernet Sauvignon. The best examples have lush black fruits, herbal notes and minerality.

Cabernet Sauvignon: ditto above, with the best examples showing vibrant blackcurrant and herb notes with clay earth.

Moscato Rosa: my new favorite sticky. Moscato Rosas are luscious, just-right sweet, and spicy. Chocolate wine!

Random Thoughts

Apples! Alto Adige is the center of apple production in Italy and one of the major suppliers to the European continent. The valley floors are filled with apple orchards with vines on hillsides and terraces. However, a high bounty is placed on top orchards grown on steep hillsides.

Foods: when in Bolzano, makes sure to try the local dumplings called knödels, made from cheese, beets, speck (local ham like prosciutto), or spinach. The crunchy unleavened bread called schüttelbrot is also delicious.  

Restaurants: Patscheiderhof is an old farmhouse restaurant outside Bolzano built in 1776 that serves traditional local fare including delicious knödels.

Favorite Wines of the Trip

1. 2012 K. Martini & Sohn Pinot Bianco, “Palladium”
Lots of intensity and ripe fruit for Pinot Bianco with vibrant acidity and a touch of chalky minerality.

2. 2012 Castelfeder Pinot Grigio
Racy citrus and Pippin Apple fruit with notes of bitter almond and mineral.

3. 2012 Erste Neue Pinot Grigio
Sleek, supple texture with tart acidity; flavors suggest green pear, citrus blossom, and chalk.  

4. 2011 Abbazia di Novacella Sylvaner “Praepositus”
Ripe pear, green melon, key lime, and citrus blossoms with mineral underlay; focused, concentrated, and racy with an intense mineral mid-palate. Outstanding.

5. 2006 Cantina Terlano Sauvignon Blanc “Quarz” (from magnum)
Tart citrus, restrained grass/herb notes, and pronounced salty mineral; the palate is racy and seamless; wonderful balance and length.

6. 2010 Cantina Terlano Nova Domus Riserva
A blend of Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, and Pinot Bianco. Vibrant Fuji apple/green pear and white flowers with bright lemon citrus notes.

7. 2011 Cantina Val Isarco Gewürztraminer “Aristos”
Ripe peach, tangerine, and ginger spice flavors with pronounced floral notes.

 8. 2012 Elena Walch Schiava
Tart cherry and cranberry notes with savory herb and a touch of earth.

9. 2011 A. Egger-Ramer Santa Maddalena “Reisegger Classico”
Richer than regular Schiavas with more depth of fruit and earth/mineral notes. Juicy, ripe, and forward with tart finishing acidity.

10. 2011 St. Michele Appiano Pinot Nero
Smoky cranberry and sour cherry fruit with beet root, tea, leather, and spice; lots of mineral on the mid-palate with older wood and tart
acid on the finish

11. 2011 Castel Sallegg Lagrein
Ripe black fruits with violet, anise/herb, green leaf, and earth/mineral notes; more restrained on the palate than expected, but still very juicy and fruity with tart acidity and minerality on the finish.

12. 2009 Kellerei Kaltern Passito Moscato Giallo “Serenade”
Fruit dried for 4-5 months and then aged in wood for two years; 210 grams residual with nine grams total acidity; crystallized pineapple and preserved lemon with honey; luscious fully sweet with honey, dried flower and anise notes; utterly delicious.

The classical music industry is in the tank. It’s been there for a while. As of this writing, the orchestras in Minneapolis and Indianapolis are both on strike. Last year the Philadelphia Orchestra, one of the country’s finest and most venerated musical arts organizations, filed for chapter 11. Two years ago my hometown Albuquerque Symphony, a group founded in 1932 and a group I performed with as an undergraduate, folded. Done. Finito. Finale.

Add to this list of misery is the fact that none of the top five class “A” orchestras has a recording contract with a major label at this time. That in itself is a litmus test of just how far the industry has sunk; 20 years ago they all had at least one contract with a major label. In fact, the only recent American recording project of any magnitude I can think of is the outstanding Mahler Symphony cycle by the San Francisco Symphony completed several years ago. Mind you, the only reason it was ever accomplished was because the recordings were released on the symphony’s own label and the entire project was underwritten by the Getty foundation. Otherwise, it would never have happened. 

Why is the state of the state so dire for American orchestras and classical music in the U.S. in general? Lots of reasons, but the first has to be cost; the average annual salary for a top orchestra is upwards of $100K. Multiply that by 75-100 people, add benefits on top of that, and you can easily see that running a major orchestra is a multi-million dollar excursion and one that simple ticket sales can’t completely support. Historically, American orchestras have been subsidized by the feds. But that funding has dramatically decreased in the last decade, most notably in the last several years coinciding with the world economic meltdown. 

Listening audiences, specifically those that actually attend a “live” concert by a major orchestra much less buy a recording, aren’t getting any younger. Other than having a young rock star conductor like Gustavo Dudamel in Los Angeles, there doesn’t seem to be any major impetus or vehicle to get younger audiences listening to classical music or going to concerts. Likewise, in the past composers and compositions were cyclically being “rediscovered” by movie audiences as elements of soundtracks, but that doesn’t seem to be happening as much now. 

I’d also like to put forth that the way younger generations listen to music now probably has something to do with all this. To point, listening to music is not the singular experience I grew up with as in sitting down in front of some speakers for a duration of time—and listening. Now the music experience is generally defined as downloading single songs, creating playlists of different songs/artists, and listening to music through ear buds to an iPod, iPhone, or other smart phone-like device. Further, listening to music is often done on the go with any number of other things going on in the moment. One might be tempted to ask if listening to single songs and multi-task-listening makes for a shorter attention span or at least a different kind of attention span.

What can you do? Can you help? Yes, you can. The answer is simple: Mozart. That’s right, Mozart. Far-fetched? Not at all. If you’re not listening to classical music at least once in a while, it’s time you did. Classical/symphonic music is one of the greatest artistic-cultural expressions and gifts we have—and you definitely don’t have to pay big ticket prices for live concerts. Classical music is boring you say? It might be if you pick the wrong thing as in starting off with Wagner’s Ring Cycle—and you don’t have an attention span. Ahem. But Mozart makes this easy. It’s gorgeous music that you can listen to in the background just as mindlessly as you do anything else, or you can actually dedicate some listening time to it and appreciate it as some of the most profoundly beautiful music ever written. Imagine that, listening to music and not doing something else at the same time. What a concept. In the end, you support the classical music industry, orchestras, and artists by downloading some tunes or purchasing a CD, which in turn might even lead to your actually going to see a live concert. Who knows? You may be the beginning of a trend that brings classical music back. Once it starts, the sky’s the limit. 

Here’s what I want you to do: go out and download or even purchase a CD of Mozart. It’s easy. Not sure what to buy? Not a surprise given our beloved Wolfgang wrote almost 700 published pieces in his altogether too short of a life span—as in less than 36 years. That’s the bad news. The good news is that I’ve put together a short list of favorite recordings to make it easy for you. I also just checked on iTunes and many of them are available there. Otherwise, mosey on over to Amazon for the recordings. You’ll be glad you did. Mozart does indeed make you smarter.

Recommended pieces and recordings: there are multiple recordings of all the pieces I’m suggesting but know that all recordings are definitely not equal. In fact, some can be pretty lousy either in the performance aspect or the recording aspect—or both. But the right combination of soloist, conductor, and orchestra can be truly magical. Most of the recordings listed below are just that. 

Note: when searching for the recordings, input the name of the conductor or soloist first and the orchestra next.  

1. Mozart: Overtures, Sir Neville Marriner conducting, Academy of St.-Martin-in-the-Fields

Opera overtures are the classical music version of speed dating as in several minutes, everyone gets excited, no one gets hurt, and then it’s over. For that reason alone Mozart’s overtures are easily the best introduction to his music. The Magic Flute and Marriage of Figaro are personal favorites. The latter can best be described as Champagne expressed in music.

2. String Quartets 20 in D Major and 21 in D Major, Alban Berg Quartet

Think chamber music and string quartets are light, boring, and fluffy? Think again. These two gems are beautifully played by the Alban Berg quartet from Vienna. The Champagne Mozart comparison definitely applies here as well.

3. Piano Concertos 20 in d minor and 21 in C Major, Mitsuko Uchida piano, Jeffrey Tate conducting, English Chamber Orchestra

Mozart’s 27 piano concerti are my desert island tunes. I first studied them as an undergraduate and they get more play on my iTunes than practically anything else. Strange, but true. All are made up of three movements and last from 15-25 minutes, so they’re easily doable on the “are we there yet?” scale. Number 20 in d-minor is my favorite Mozart concerto of all. It’s driven, manic, melancholy, and triumphant in turn. Understand that Mozart wrote precious few things in a minor key, and when he did it was serious-ass business. Number 21 by contrast is like a beautiful summer night. Mitsuko Uchida is one of the great Mozart pianists of our age; her playing is perfection.

4. Piano Concertos 23 in A Major and 19 in F Major, Maurizio Pollini piano, Karl Böhm, Vienna Philharmonic

Amazingly precise and artistic playing by Italian Maurizio Pollini accompanied by one of world’s greatest orchestras and one of the top Mozart conductors of the 20th century. This is a wow.

5. Clarinet Concerto and Clarinet Quintet, David Shifrin clarinet, Gerard Schwarz conducting, Chamber Music Northwest

This is one of my favorite classical recordings of all time. Period. Buy it. 

6. Symphonies 38 in D-Major “Prague”, 39 in E-flat Major, 40 in g-minor (that minor thing again) and 41 in C Major; Sir Charles Mackerras conducting, Prague Chamber Orchestra 

There are 41 or 60 symphonies depending on whose catalogue you use. The early symphonies are short, charming, and not long on content or complexity. The late symphonies, nos. 35-41, are the sweet spot and responsible for Mozart being considered among the greatest symphonists of all time (think Beethoven, Mahler, Brahms and Hadyn). The coda of the last movement of Symphony no. 41 is stunning just for its brilliant counterpoint writing. Mackerras’ conducting and the Prague Chamber Orchestra is a great match.

7. Violin Concertos 1-6, Anne-Sophie Mutter violin, Yuri Bashmet conducting, London Philharmonic

Dazzling performances by German violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter. I also like the older recordings of Beglian violinist Arthur Grummiaux as well.

8. The Magic Flute, Herbert von Karajan conducting, Berlin Philharmonic

9.The Marriage of Figaro, Sir Charles Mackerras conducting, Scottish Chamber Orchestra

The last two recommendations are you having purchased/downloaded many of the above recordings and deciding to go the whole hog--as in opera. I’ll be the first to say that opera is not for everyone. Depending on how you think about it, opera is either the most artificial or the most dramatic and realistic form of music. I think it’s a little of both. Regardless, these two Mozart operas are arguably the best introduction to opera genre simply because of the purity and beauty of the music. In other words, there are a lot of great tunes in both works. 

Cheers!

Recently I taught a four day Italian wine Intensive course at the Rudd Center in St. Helena.  Four days seems may seem like a long time to cover one country but the scale of Italy and Italian wine is overwhelming at any speed.  The class tasted over 80 wines in the four days and there were lots of highlights—from brilliant Sicilian Nero d’Avola to Super Tuscan all-stars to great Barolo and Barbaresco--and everything in between.  My favorite wine of the week?  A sticky at the end of day one: Donnafugata’s completely delicious Passito di Pantelleria called Ben Ryé. 

The name Ben Ryé is taken from the Arabic term "Son of the Wind."  No mystery as Pantelleria is a wind-swept volcanic island between Sicily and North Africa.  Here Zbibbo vines (Muscat of Alexandria) up to a century old are trained low, sprawling bushes for protection against the constant and biting Mediterranean winds.  Harvest for Ben Ryé begins in mid-August when the first grapes are dried in the sun for up to 30 days.  In September less mature vineyards are harvested.  Prior to fermentation the passito/dried grapes are hand de-stemmed and added to the must.  During an extended maceration the dried fruit adds extraordinary flavor and complexity to the young wine.  Post fermentation the wine is aged in stainless steel for four months and then an additional six months in bottle before commercial release. 

Aside from all the techno-jargon the wine is simply stunning with bright, piercing flavors of dried flowers, honey, caramel and stonefruit marmalade.  the palate is intense, focused and utterly hedonistic.  The winery recommends enjoying Ben Ryé as a wine of meditation, to be enjoyed solo at the end of a memorable meal.  I’m also convinced that if paired with foie gras or a salty blue cheese such as Stilton it would temporarily change your life.  Gianduia chocolate and Ben Ryé would also be cosmic.  Whatever the pairing or occasion, Ben Ryé is one of the world’s great dessert wines and wine values—and a MUST try.