Perhaps the most often asked question is about the meaning of life. The answer is, of course, 42. Sorry, inside joke. The second most often asked question is what happens to wine as it ages. That question has a far more problematic answer because scientists don’t fully know what happens to wine as it ages in the bottle. And what they do know they can’t even agree on. Exhibit “A,” a quote from the chapter on Oxidation from Jamie Goode’s latest book Flawless: Understanding Common Wine Faults:

“I would add, that the exact mechanisms of chemical oxidation of wine are still not completely understood, and there are multiple theories to explain the chemistry at this point. This is a somewhat controversial field.”

Wine as a living thing is never static in the bottle. The alcohol and acids react together constantly to form new compounds while other compounds dissolve. These changes happen over time and at different rates. No surprise that every time a bottle is opened the wine inside is at a different stage in its evolution.

There are no hard or fast answers to the wine aging question. However, we in the industry need to be able to understand the general changes that tend to take place in wine as it ages in regards to the way it looks, smells, tastes, and even feels on the palate. Further, we need to able to communicate these changes to our customers/clients/guests in such a way as to be easily understandable and avoid putting them into a deep trance.

This post is an attempt to do just that. For the consumer, this post will provide some information about what tends to happen in wine as it ages. Notice the emphasis on the word tends. For the sommelier or other industry professional, I’ve included some suggested language to use when describing an older wine to a guest or consumer so as not to confuse or intimidate. Finally, I've included some FAQ's on wine and aging. Onward. 

How Wine Tends to Change with Age
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Color

Most reading this post will already know that white and blush wines grow darker in color as they age, while red wines do the opposite—they get lighter in color because pigments and tannin precipitate out of solution. Over time the color in wine will change to show oxidation in various ways, and the color intensity will usually diminish as well. The following changes in color generally apply.

White wines: Straw and pale-yellow color in a young wine vs. deeper yellow, gold, and even amber in an older wine.

Pink wines: Various shades of pink in a young rosé vs. salmon and orange in an older wine.

Red wines: Vibrant ruby or purple in a young wine vs. various shades of garnet or garnet-brown in an older wine.

Aromas and Flavors

Fruit: Generally, young wine offers more overt primary fruit aromas and flavors vs. an aged wine. After a time, wine will also show less primary fruit with secondary (even tertiary) non-fruit and earth-mineral aromas and tending to dominate. It’s also fairly easy to recognize two or more distinct kinds of fruit in a young wine but difficult in an older wine where the fruit has melded together.

Fruit quality: Fresh, vibrant fruit in a young wine vs. dried, stewed, compoted, or raisinated fruit in an older wine.

Non-fruit floral: Fresh flowers and blossoms in a young wine vs. dried flowers, pressed flowers, or potpourri in an older wine.

Non-fruit herbal: Fresh green herbs in a young wine vs. dried herbs in an older wine.

Non-fruit spice (either pepper-spice or oak spice): Fresh spices in a young wine vs. dried spices in an older wine.

Earth-mineral: Wines with age show more pronounced earth and mineral character simply because the decreased intensity of fruit and non-fruit elements.

Oak: Overt vanilla and spice character in a young wine with new oak vs. dried, less distinct spice in an older wine. Also, less overall overt oak presence.

Important! Note the pattern here. Over time practically everything in a wine regarding aroma and flavor goes from fresh to dry. Thus it doesn't make sense to describe a wine as having dried fruit and fresh herb notes. An aged wine will show dried fruit, dried herb notes, and less overt oak if any was used in the winemaking process.

Structure

How does our perception of the structural element in wine change as it ages? What are the reasons for the change vs. the wine simply smelling and tasting different? The answer involves a myriad of factors.

Residual sugar: The level of measurable residual sugar in wine does not change with age. However, over time certain molecules and aldehydes form new combinations that can change our perception of sweetness, making an older wine tastes drier.

Acidity: Once bottled, the level of acidity in a wine remains almost constant with age. However, our perception of acidity in a wine changes over time for various reasons. In white wine with residual sugar, the level of acidity can seem higher after considerable aging because our perception of the level of sweetness is less. Likewise, a high acid red wine seems more acidic with age because there’s less overall fruit.  

Alcohol: After fermentation the alcohol level in a wine remains the same. However, as phenolic compounds link together and the wine’s primary flavors fade with age, there may be times during a wine’s development when the alcohol will seem more or less pronounced.
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Tannin: Tannins found in grape skins and seeds taste bitter and feel astringent on the palate. Over time, tannins soften because they polymerize, or form long chains with each other. The tannin polymer molecules taste less bitter and feel less harsh compared to those in a younger wine. Also, some of the tannins will precipitate out of the wine as sediment with age making it smoother--for lack of a better term--on the palate. 

More on Them Changes

Given all the above, here are examples of certain wines and how they tend to change over time. As previously noted, all are general tendencies.

Vintage Champagne

Young Wine

Sight: Pale straw color with hints of green and a persistent bead (bubbles).
Nose and Palate: Tart vibrant apple-pear and citrus fruit, floral, autolytic notes (from the breakdown of yeast left from secondary fermentation) of yeast, toast, brioche, and possible earth-mineral notes.

Aged Wine

Sight: Brassy straw in color and less persistent bead.
Nose and Palate: Dried orchard and citrus fruit, dried floral, more pronounced toasty autolytic character, and more pronounced earth-mushroom-mineral character.

Riesling - Mosel Spätlese

Young Wine
Sight: Pale straw color with green.
Nose and Palate: A myriad of fresh vibrant fruit including green apple, stone fruit, tropical fruit, and sweet/tart citrus fruit. Also, fresh citrus blossom, possible lees character (yeast); slate mineral, and little, if any, TDN/petrol character.

Aged Wine
Sight: Yellow gold in color with hints of green.
Nose and Palate: Less fruit overall and the fruit quality is dried/preserved. Also, dried floral, crystalized honey, more pronounced slate mineral quality, and more TDN/petrol character.

Chardonnay - California

Young Wine
Sight: Light yellow in color with hint of green.
Nose and Palate: Fresh and ripe apple-pear, tropical, and citrus fruit with lees notes (yeast, bread dough, etc.), butter from malolactic fermentation/conversion, and pronounced vanilla-spice notes from new oak usage.

Aged Wine
Sight: Yellow-gold in color.
Nose and Palate: Dried, stewed, or compoted fruit including apple-pear and citrus with less distinct lees, butterscotch, and spice character from oak influence. Also, oxidative notes such as honey and roasted nuts.

Chardonnay – Cote de Beaune

Young Wine
Sight: Straw-yellow in color with green.
Nose and Palate: Fresh and ripe apple-pear and citrus fruit with lees (yeast, bread dough, etc.), butter from malolactic fermentation/conversion, possible matchstick-mercaptan-SO2 notes, mineral-earth notes, and vanilla spice from oak.

Aged Wine
Sight: Yellow-gold in color.
Nose and Palate: Dried, stewed, or compoted fruit including apple and preserved citrus with less distinct lees, butterscotch, more pronounced mineral-mushroom-earth notes, and any matchstick-SO2 integrated into the wine. Also, less overt oak influence but with honey and roasted nut oxidative notes.

Pinot Noir – New World

Young Wine
Sight: Medium ruby color with pink hue.
Nose and Palate: Bright, fresh red fruit (red cherry, cranberry, and strawberry) with fresh rose floral, green herb, and oak spices.

Aged Wine
Sight: Garnet-ruby in color with secondary lighter garnet hue.
Nose and Palate: Dried-compoted red fruit, dried floral and herb, possible tertiary mineral and earth notes, and less spice from oak.

Pinot Noir – Red Burgundy

Young Wine
Sight: Medium ruby color with pink hue.
Nose and Palate: Bright, fresh red fruit (red cherry, cranberry, and strawberry) with rose floral, green herb/tea, possible green stemmy notes, mineral-earth, and vanilla-spice from oak.

Aged Wine
Sight: Garnet-ruby in color with secondary lighter garnet hue.
Nose and Palate: Dried, desiccated red fruit with dried floral, herb, tea, stems, and pronounced mineral-earth notes including game, truffle, and mushroom. Also, less spice and overt oak influence. Note that a fine aged red Burgundy often displays complexities on the nose and palate that are almost impossible to describe.

Syrah – Barossa Shiraz

Young Wine
Sight: Opaque ruby purple in color.
Nose and Palate: Ripe, jammy black fruit (blackberry, cherry, and plum), tart red fruit (cherry and cranberry), and dried fruit (raisin, prune, date, and fig). Also, black pepper spice, savory herb, mint and eucalyptus, savory notes (soy and beef jerky), and pronounced vanilla-spice from new oak.

Aged Wine:
Sight: Deep purple with garnet hue.
Nose and Palate: Dried raisinated character overall with riper and tarter elements. Also, dried pepper, leather, mint, herbs, dried savory spice and meat, and less pronounced oak.

Syrah – Northern Rhone

Young Wine
Sight: Deep purple in color.
Nose and Palate: Ripe and tart black fruit (blackberry, cherry, and plum), tart red fruit (cherry and cranberry), and dried fruit (date and fig). Also black and/or white pepper spice, fresh floral, green herb, savory notes (soy, jerky, iodine, and blood), mineral-earth, and oak notes including smoke, toast, and spice.

Aged Wine
Sight: Faded purple-garnet in color.
Nose and Palate: Dried raisinated fruit character overall with riper and tarter notes. Also, dried pepper, dried floral and herbs, dried savory spice, savory meaty character, pronounced mineral-earth-mushroom, and less overt oak notes. Like aged red Burgundy, a top-quality Syrah from Cornas, Hermitage, or Cote Rotie can show remarkable complexity over time that defies description.

Cabernet Sauvignon – California

Young Wine
Sight: Opaque ruby purple in color.
Nose and Palate: Ripe, jammy, and concentrated black fruit and raisinated fruit with violet floral, green herb, and pronounced new oak notes including vanilla, spices, toast, and more.

Aged Wine
Sight: Deep ruby garnet in color.
Nose and Palate: Dried black and raisinated fruit with dried floral, dried herb, cedar, graphite, and less oak influence.

Cabernet Sauvignon Blend - Bordeaux

Young Wine
Sight: Opaque ruby in color.
Nose and Palate: Concentrated, vibrant black fruit (cherry, berry, currant, and plum) and tart red fruit (cherry and currant) with violet floral, green herb-vegetal, mineral-earth notes, and vanilla-spice from oak.

Aged Wine
Sight: Deep ruby garnet in color.
Nose and Palate: Dried, stewed, and compoted black and red fruit with dried floral, dried herb-vegetal, more pronounced mushroom-earth-mineral, and less spice and oak influence.

Botrytis Sweet Semillon Blend - Bordeaux

Young Wine
Sight: Deep straw-yellow in color.
Nose and Palate: Candied ripe stone fruit (peach, apricot, and nectarine), sweet citrus (orange, Mandarin, and tangerine) with honeysuckle floral, honey, mineral-earth, and pronounced new oak character with vanilla and spice.
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Aged Wine
Sight: Deep burnished gold in color.
Nose and Palate: Dried, crystalized stone fruit and preserved sweet citrus fruit and citrus peel with dried floral and pronounced botrytis notes including dried honey, saffron, and marmalade. Also, pronounced mushroom and dark earth character with less overt oak spice notes.

Talking Them Changes

Describing wine is never easy. There’s no inherent vocabulary for it and we in the industry have long been guilty of shamelessly pilfering terms from other unrelated fields. There’s also the curious inverse ratio of experience vs. subjectivity as in, the more experience with tasting, the less subjective wine is. Thus to a beginner the wine experience is almost completely subjective, while to someone with years or even decades of experience tasting is almost completely objective. This makes describing an older wine to a curious novice challenging at best. Language really matters when it comes describing an older bottle. Here are some suggested dos and don’ts for speaking the language of an older wine, as well as a couple terms that usually need explaining.

Descriptors to use: dried, jammy, candied, preserved, and savory. Also--and these may require explanation--integrated, married, and melded.

Descriptors to avoid: oxidized, faded, musty, dank, dying, and generally anything that can easily be associated with “old.”  

Terms that need explanation:

Bottle bouquet: the aromas of a wine with age as in all the above.

Vinous: the qualities of a red wine with age as in dried fruit, dried herbs and spices, leather, earth, and integrated oak.

Wine Aging FAQ’s

Over the years I’ve been asked many questions about wine and aging. Here are some of the most common ones and my answers.

Does old wine taste better than young wine?
The answer depends completely on you. If you’re familiar with the character of an aged wine, then odds are you’ll like the subtlety and complexity notes of an older bottle. If that’s not the case then you will probably be put off by the dried and earthy notes in an older wine.

What does old wine taste like?
See above: lots of notes on older wines and how they differ from younger vintages.

Does aroma decrease with age?
The answer is generally no. However, the intensity of aroma in certain wines may seem perceptibly less because the aromatics have evolved to such a great extent. 
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Anything to know about pairing an older wine with food? 
Good question! The overt primary flavors of a young wine can handle much more intensity in a dish such as using garlic or onions, or cooking techniques such as grilling. Not so with an older wine. Subtlety in the dish and letting the wine take center stage are the keys. A strongly flavored dish can bury the complex flavors of an older wine. Be mindful of balance!

Is an old wine worth the extra cost?
The answer again depends on you. Older wine will always make it more expensive because someone had to initially buy it and then store it. If you like older wine and have the disposable income, the extra cost may be worth it.

Should I order old wine in a restaurant?
If a celebratory occasion calls for it, by all means yes—but with a caveat. The restaurant in question must have a good wine program with a well-established cellar and a dedicated buyer/sommelier. If you are going to spend the big bucks for an older bottle in a restaurant it’s not unreasonable to ask how the bottle was acquired, how long the restaurant has owned it, and how it’s been stored. All are reasonable questions that any sommelier/buyer should be able to answer.

Do all wines age?
Yes, all wines age--as in, eventually becoming oxidized and ultimately vinegar. However, some wines take far more time than others to go through the aging process. Most go through the evolution quickly within a year or two. 

What wines age best?
Top quality sweet wines, fortified sweet wines, and certain red wines tend to age the best and/or longest.

Are aged wines better than un-aged wines?
Context is important here. Who is to say that a bottle of just-released Prosecco enjoyed with the woman/man of your dreams during a beautiful sunset isn’t every bit as amazing and memorable as an uber expensive bottle of 20-year-old Chateau Latour enjoyed in some formal dining room? Note the difference here between a great wine experience vs. a great wine. Both are relevant.

What are the best conditions to age wine?
Great question--and a very important one as well. Proper conditions for cellaring wine are a constant temperature of between 55-60 degrees with a minimum of 60% humidity, and no source of light or vibration. A constant, cool temperature and darkness are key.

When should I drink my bottle?
This is a short question with a very long answer. As the wise Inigo Montoya once said, “Too long. Let me sum up.” The following variables come into play:

1. Wine type: What kind of wine is it? Something just purchased at Albertson’s with a plastic cork that’s meant to be opened and enjoyed now and over the next several months? Or a quality bottle that has the capability to age? The price you paid for the bottle will also be an important clue. Less money equals a wine that’s intended to be enjoyed near term and not aged.
2. Storage conditions: If you don’t have a place with the right conditions to store wine long term all bets are off. Drink your bottle soon as in over the next two weeks.
3. Personal preference: Do you actually like the smell and taste of an older wine? The answer is probably not unless you’ve not had more than a few experiences with aged wine. If that’s the case, drink up!

 
What phone app do you recommend that has aging recommendations for wines?
I recommend an app called BottleCru (www.bottlecru.com) that was developed Ken Schroeder, a friend and colleague. BottleCru uses avatars to help consumers understand the different styles of classic grapes and wines. It also includes recommendations on when to enjoy wines as well as a remarkably robust database for food and wine pairing and cheese and wine pairing.

I’ve had X bottle of wine for some time now at home. When should I drink it?
This is perhaps the commonly asked question about aging wine—and the answer could be the only thing you ever need to remember. If you are holding a bottle of wine in hand and asking yourself if you should open it, the answer 999 out of 1,000 times is a resounding YES. For god’s sake, open the bottle and drink it. The very rare exception—and I do mean rare—is if the wine is a very expensive and/or rare bottle of something that is the only bottle of whatever it is you own. Say it’s a bottle of Petrus, Hill of Grace, or La Tâche. Then you might pause for a moment and consider whether the occasion, the company, and the meal call for such a spectacular bottle. Only then should you hesitate. Otherwise, open and enjoy the wine. After all, that’s what it’s for. 
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*A final thought: if you’ve been wondering about the title of this post, wonder no more. I offer the following photograph of the late Jimi Hendrix and Buddy Miles taken in San Francisco in 1967. If you’ve never heard the live version of Miles’ song “Them Changes” with Hendrix playing lead recorded at the Fillmore in 1970, you simply must (www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHU5Le-2d6k). And now you know. Cheers!

Last fall I had a rare half-day free in New York after a meeting. That night I shared dinner with good friends Beth Cotenoff, of Teuwen Communications, and Ron Merlino. Ron has owned a classical artists management company called MusicVine for over 20 years. His clients include top orchestral conductors and classical pianists. In his not-so-copious free time Ron also has an ongoing academic research project on the role wine played in the lives of the great composers. Previously, I posted an interview I did with him in July of 2018. 
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During conversation Ron told us about a presentation he would be giving the following month to a group celebrating the 100th anniversary of the San Francisco Girls Chorus. The title of his talk was “Prohibition, Suffrage, and Early Women Winemakers in 19th and 20th Century America.” The information Ron shared with us based on his research was amazing. Other than Lilly Langtry and Isabelle Simi, I had never heard of any of the women, all of whom owned and ran wineries. Perhaps there’s a good reason why. These women were not especially supportive of the Suffrage movement. That may seem shocking, but it’s important to know that in the latter half of the 19th and early 20th centuries, the Suffrage and Prohibition movements were linked. It’s a complex story and some background is needed to understand how these two very different movements came to be unified.

​The following is taken from a transcript of Ron’s presentation. I have edited it for length but the content is taken entirely from his narrative which unified the work of many fine historians and their research.
 
“Prohibition, Suffrage, and Early Women Winemakers in the 19th and 20th Century America.”
 
By Ron Merlino
 
The last few years have celebrated the hundredth anniversaries of the 18th and 19th amendments enacting Prohibition and granting women the right to vote, respectively. What few today realize is that both movements were indelibly linked - each could not have occurred without the other. Their story is a truly American one - a tale of immigration, cultural diversity, civil liberty, human rights, and religion. They are also a reminder to us all of racism, isolationism, xenophobia, and corruption. To fully understand this, it is necessary to view the key events that preceded the passing of these two amendments.
 
1848-58: The gold rush brings thousands to California, including immigrants from every corner of the globe and scores of Americans from the East Coast and the Midwest.
 
1865: With the end of the Civil War, the 13th Amendment is ratified abolishing slavery.
 
1868: The 14th amendment passes, granting freed slaves and their descendants citizenship rights.
 
1869: The Transcontinental Railroad is finally completed - a huge achievement that required the labor of freed slaves. Massive speculation and investment in the West ensued and many businesses overextended their resources and capacity.
 
1870: The 15th amendment grants black men the right to vote.
 
1873: On May 9th the Vienna Stock Market crashes. By Sept 20th the New York Stock Exchange had closed its doors for 20 full days. By Thanksgiving, three quarters of the newly formed railroad companies in the US cease operations due to over-speculation in the West. The first global world financial crisis ensues - the Panic of 1873.
 
1873: On Dec 23rd, the first Women’s Christian Temperance Conference was held in Hillsboro, Ohio. It was fueled by frustration and pent up anger over the rising tide of alcoholism and the violence that alcohol encouraged men to perpetuate against women. But it was also the inevitable end result of women having watched the rights of blacks and freed slaves find a legal voice before their own, movements they had supported but which still left them disenfranchised.
 
It is not by chance that this first Conference took place only miles away from the well-known wine country of the Ohio River Valley - the Cincinnati vineyards that had defined the face of American wine culture to that point in history.
 
The Temperance women opposed the Northern Republican party’s dominance of national politics. They published pamphlets claiming women’s moral superiority to men, espousing that a man’s only hope to rise to a woman’s higher moral ground would be to reject alcohol, tobacco, and lust.
 
Southern Democrats watched this Temperance movement carefully, cleverly adopting the platform of National Prohibition. Not only could banning alcohol allow them to enforce their continued oppressive and isolationist policies, but it could now help them regain control of the national government. What began as a worthy idea among responsible women who actually believed that wine was to be encouraged over hard liquor--NOT that all alcohol should be banned-- morphed into a frenzy of extremist Temperance crusades, a social wave that conservative-minded businessmen and politicians co-opted for their own motives.
 
1909: The 16th amendment establishes a Federal Income Tax. Overnight the alcohol tax as an important source of federal government revenue vanished and the way was paved for national Prohibition to become a reality.
 
Naturally, many men and women resisted this push to take away their freedom to drink. In those long, tortuous final ten years leading up to 1919, the savviest politicians understood that Prohibition as an amendment could not pass without the grassroots community efforts of the suffragettes who raised their voices to pressure hesitant and undecided women. In the end, it worked. A woman’s right to vote would be publicly tied to the passing of Prohibition.
 
But success had a dear and lasting price, for not all women were lockstep in unison by any means. Many women wanted the freedom to serve and to be served alcohol, and a small courageous group of them actually owned wineries and made wine. California emerged as a hot bed of anti-suffrage sentiment among women as a result of its economic significance in the wine trade. Famous California wine women like Lilly Langtry actually stepped away from her initial support of the suffrage movement. Other notable figures such as Isabelle Simi actively circumvented the law and blatantly defied the Prohibition regulations. But the true pioneers were left forgotten, perhaps because of their uncomfortable place in the otherwise moral triumph of Suffragism in America. This is their story. 

Napa: Hannah Weinberger and Josephine Tychson
 
Hannah Weinberger

John Weinberger was a businessman and winemaker from Germany who had emigrated to America in 1848. He first learned the wine trade working at Nicholas Longworth Vineyards in Cincinnati. John met his wife Hannah in Ohio, and the two moved west during the Gold Rush Years. Once in California, John quickly excelled as a wine producer in St. Helena. He also became president of the local Bank of St. Helena and was known as a close friend to two other German wine pioneers in Napa; Jacob Beringer of Beringer Vineyards and Jacob Schram of Schramsberg.

At the time, the JC Weinberger wines were considered equals to those of Beringer and Schram. The Weinberger brand and story are only forgotten today due to John’s untimely death in 1882, when he was gunned down in broad daylight on the platform of the St. Helena railroad station by a disgruntled employee.
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Upon John’s death, Hannah took over running the winery. She also assumed John’s post as head of the bank. Hannah quickly established a national presence for her wines and successfully marketed them in major cities including St Louis, Cincinnati, and New York.
 
In 1889 her Cabernet Sauvignon was entered in the Paris World Expo. It won a silver medal, not only making her the first woman winemaker from the United States to be given an award on the world stage, but the first California wine to ever be awarded an international medal.
 
Hannah’s winery remained prosperous until 1920 when it was forced to close due to Prohibition. She passed away at the age of 91. Today her vineyards are part of the William Cole winery holdings across Highway 29 from the Markham winery.
 
Josephine Tychson
 
If you run a Google search for “pioneer California women winemakers,” Josephine Tychson’s name will probably come up first. After losing her husband to suicide during his battle with tuberculosis, Josephine undertook an extensive rebuilding of his winery and oversaw the very first harvest. She kept the business alive until 1895 when she decided to sell it to the then burgeoning giant Italian Swiss Colony. The winery, located near St. Helena, still stands today as part of Freemark Abbey Wines. The vines surrounding her original home are used to produce the Tychson Vineyard Cabernets made by Ann Colgin.

The Sonoma Trio: Eliza Shaw Hood, Ellen Stuart, and Kate Warfield
 
Aside from Hannah Weinberger and Josephine Tychson, the earliest pioneers of women in California wine were not from Napa—they were from Sonoma. Though they have been largely forgotten, their legacy is remarkable. Eliza Shaw Hood, Ellen Stuart, and Kate Warfield all hailed from Glen Ellen. All three lived and worked near one another, and all three took over the wineries owned by their respective husbands in the late 1870s and early 1880s.
 
Eliza Shaw Hood
 
Eliza Shaw Hood and her husband William Hood settled the area of Glen Ellen in 1848. Previously, William Hood had come from Scotland and was a carpenter by trade. He made a fortune during the urban boom of San Francisco following the Gold Rush. In 1851 he purchased a 30 square mile tract of land called Rancho Guiluco on which stood a mountain that is named after him (Mt. Hood).
 
Unfortunately, William was committed to a local asylum in later years, and Eliza took over the winery in 1877. That date makes her the first and earliest known woman to run a winery in California. At the time the estate vineyard was planted entirely to the Mission grape. Eliza hired Auguste Drioton, a French viticultural expert who had previously published a book on the handling of phylloxera. With his help, she grafted the vineyard over to a wide variety of vitis vinifera.
 
The Eliza Hood Cabernets, Rieslings, and Semillons became widely acclaimed and her brandy was successful as well. Over time, production increased to over 100,000 gallons of wine and 5,000 gallons of brandy. In 1897 she too sold her winery to the Italian Swiss Colony and then moved to San Francisco where she lived until 1918.
 
Ellen Stuart
 
Ellen Stuart also married a Scotsman, Charles Stuart. Like the Hoods, they came to Sonoma at the peak of the Gold Rush in 1849. Charles bought a 1000-acre land grant called Agua Caliente that ran parallel to today’s Highway 12. He planted vines and named the estate Glen Ellen to honor of his wife and Scottish heritage. The Stuart estate was one of the first vineyards in the region. By 1863 there were 40 acres planted, and in 1869 a stone winery house was built that still stands. In 1880 Charles died suddenly and Ellen found herself supervising the crush of the now 90-acre vineyard. Over the next decade she made and marketed the estate’s wines until phylloxera devastated the vineyard in 1890. Given the time frame, one can make the argument that Ellen Stuart was the earliest known woman winemaker in California.
 
Kate Warfield
 
Kate Warfield was known as the “lady vineyardist” in her time. Her husband Jacob Warfield came to California from Ohio in 1849 and built a successful trading business in Gold Country. When Charles and Ellen Stuart sold him part of their estate in 1862, Jacob named the winery Ten Oaks and planted 16 acres of Mission vines. After his after his death in 1878, Kate took over the vineyard and winery operation. She hired a French winemaker and grafted the Mission vines over to other European varieties.
 
In 1883 Kate entered her brandy in the California State Fair contest and won top prize. However, the result was contested by an all-male judging panel who believed it impossible that a woman could make a better brandy than a man. A second testing was held on the spot and yielded identical results.
 
In 1886 Warfield was awarded top marks for her Cabernet, Syrah, and Sauvignon Blanc at the San Francisco Mechanics Fair Tasting, the preeminent California wine event at the time. She also became widely known as an advocate for phylloxera-resistant root stocks and was considered the most talented vine grower in California in her time.
 
The success of these three women is remarkable. However, there's more to their story. Together, they brought a legal petition to the Sonoma County Superior Court in the early 1880s. In the petition they argued for the right to operate their wineries as “sole traders,” a legal designation necessary to run a commercial business in the state of California. At the time, the sole trader status was rarely granted to women. However, by sheer force of will, courage, and intellect they won their case and gained the right to operate as female proprietors of their estates.
 
While it’s far from a thrilling plot line, this singular achievement set the stage for women in the industry who would follow in the coming decades. The Sonoma Trio were not only true pioneers for women’s rights, they also paved the way for women winemakers in America.

Frona Eunice Wait
 
Finally, the brilliant journalism of Frona Eunice Wait, without whom most of the written history described above would have been lost. Wait was born in the gold rush territory in 1859. Early on she displayed a gift for journalism, landing her first job with the Santa Rosa Republican. Her talents were soon noticed by William Randolph Hearst and in 1887, at age 28, she was hired by Hearst as the first female staff journalist for the San Francisco Chronicle and Examiner newspapers.
 
Two years later Wait published the first of two seminal books on the California wine industry: Wines and Vines of California: A Treatise on the Ethics of Wine Drinking (1889). It was immediately hailed as a definitive contemporary work on California wine. In writing the book, she interviewed every winemaker she could find, visiting vineyards, cataloguing grape varieties, explaining production methods, and listing the unique accomplishments of each and every vintner and producer. It’s only because of her work that we have such a vivid and accurate picture of what wine in California was actually like at the time. Wait went on to publish a second book on California wine, as well as a book on Spanish wine and several other history works. In 1897 she published a novel, Yermah the Dorado, which many consider to be the very first science fiction work ever written.
 
With the mention of “ethics of drinking” in the title of her first book, it comes as no surprise that Ms. Wait was an avid anti-Suffragist and anti-Prohibitionist. She actively campaigned against both initiatives. Her pamphlet, 80 Percent of the Women in California Do Not Want the Vote, was printed in 1915 at the height of the resistance efforts to both amendments. The work was immensely popular and reprinted and distributed on the East Coast and across the South.
 
Wait’s writing is full of life and teems with character even when focused on mundane things such as soil and vines. She is truly one of the great—and controversial--figures of California wine in the early 20th century. Today Wait reminds us that there are many hidden, yet extraordinary women in the history of American wine in the challenging and profoundly important years leading up to Prohibition and Women’s Right to Vote. And that the story is never black and white but rather full of shades and nuances. Most importantly, the story of women in California wine history deserves a great deal more attention, advocacy, and voice--even if it doesn’t fit comfortably into the accepted narrative as we have come to know it. But it’s truly an American story; one of courage and belief in one’s convictions, one of innovation and creative spirit, and one of conflict and challenge. Thanks to Wait’s work we have the opportunity to raise our glasses to these unheralded women and know that their legacies will live on. 

I was saddened to hear of the recent passing of Michael Broadbent at the age of 92. He was a true icon of the global industry, and his contributions to wine over the last 60-plus years cannot be measured.

Broadbent passed the Master of Wine examination in 1960 in London. He moved to Christie’s auction house in 1966 and launched their first fine wine auctions. He remained with Christie’s until 1992 and was a senior consultant with them until 2009. During his time at Christie’s, no one tasted more fine and rare wine, or wrote so eloquently about it than Broadbent. His books about tasting and rare wine have long been industry benchmarks. I can’t recall the number of times when a need for information or a tasting note for an older vintage of Madeira or Port would have me reaching for Vintage Wine or The New Great Vintage Wine Book.

Michael touched the lives of countless in the industry. No doubt many have stories about him and I look forward to reading them in the days and weeks to come. I had one unforgettable encounter with Mr. Broadbent. It went something like this.

In the fall of 2002, I was invited by good friend Joe Bilman to be part of a dinner honoring Broadbent and his son Bartholomew. Bilman owns Subterraneum, a wine storage facility in Oakland. I’d worked with Joe in the restaurant business in San Francisco previously and had been one of his first customers, storing my cellar with him early on. In time, many collectors in the Bay Area did likewise and Subterraneum flourished.

At this particular time, Michael Broadbent had just released his book, Vintage Wine, and was doing a tour of sorts through the U.S. Joe knew Bartholomew and was able to convince him to have Michael do a book signing at Subterraneum followed by a catered dinner for the Broadbents and a small group of collectors who were wine storage clients. I should also note that I knew Bartholomew. In my previous role as one of the buyers at Virtual Vineyards/the original wine.com, I got to know Bartholomew well and bought copious quantities of Port, Madeira, and Portuguese table wines from him.

Joe extended an invitation to the dinner with the caveat that I had to contribute a bottle worthy of the occasion; no easy task given the cellars of the other guests. In a pinch, I called Brent Wiest of Cellars International. Brent generously offered two half bottles of the 1983 JJ Prüm Wehlener Sonnenuhr Eiswein for a player to be named later. The bottles would be my contribution to the meal.

Meeting Michael Broadbent that afternoon was a moment. He couldn’t have been more gracious. He was appreciative of the fact that I owned all his books and had already purchased the new book, which he quickly signed for me. For the moment all was well. It couldn’t have better. And then in an instant, things changed.

While I was chatting with Michael, one of the collectors who would be joining for dinner ambled up and placed a bottle in my hands. He said something like, “Joe said you’d take care of this for me,” and then wandered off. Broadbent looked down at the bottle and exclaimed, “Oh, the 1876 Gruaud-Larose! How marvelous!” My head snapped down and sure enough, there in my hands was a bottle of 1876 Chateau Gruaud-Larose with the label in remarkably good shape. Broadbent immediately started talking about the 1876 vintage on the left bank in detail.
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During an appropriate lull in the conversation, I excused myself and went to find Joe. I showed him the bottle and he said to go ahead and decant it. Mind you, the bottle had just been taken directly out of a storage locker and could not be stood upright lest the sediment be disturbed and the wine immediately rendered undrinkable. I then asked Joe what kind of equipment he had on site. A Screwpull? Ah-so? Decanting cradle or basket? He answered negative to all the above. But he did have a decanter and a candle. The only thing I had was a $10 waiter’s friend corkscrew with a black plastic handle. If not familiar, a waiter’s friend is the kind of corkscrew used by untold thousands of servers, bartenders, and sommeliers, the world over. It is the easiest to use, most effective corkscrew there is. That said, it is the very LAST corkscrew on planet earth one would use to open a bottle over a century old. 

​I scoured the kitchen looking for anything that would help stabilize the bottle horizontally at the proper angle so I could gently remove the cork and then decant the wine without disturbing the sediment or creating an international incident. Absolutely nothing turned up. In the end, I grabbed a pile of folded cloth napkins from the catering company and found a quiet place off to the side and out of sight. I then fashioned a nest of sorts for the bottle and carefully placed it snugly like a newborn. Mind you, Michael had followed me and was watching with great curiosity--and probably wondering what kind of maroon would use a pile of napkins to secure such an old bottle for decanting. I didn’t have time to worry about appearances.

As I carefully positioned bottle, Michael told me that he had tasted the 1876 several times previously. Then, with his photographic memory, he began to tell me about each time he had tasted the wine; the place, the occasion, and how each bottle had showed. I, on the other hand, was trying to perform micro-surgery with a can opener. I lit the candle and set it out of the way. I then took the entire lead capsule off the neck of the bottle so I could see exactly what was happening with the cork when I started to remove it. Next, I wiped the top of the bottle clean making sure it was free of any mold. Taking a deep breath, I inserted the auger of the corkscrew into the top of the cork. I slowly twisted/inserted the auger of the corkscrew and then began the delicate task of removing the cork. All the while Michael continued with his detailed account of each of the bottles of the 1876. Truth be told, I tuned him out and was completely focused on the cork as it started to come out in minuscule increments. After an eternity the cork was completely out and miraculously in one piece. To be honest, I got lucky as the bottle must have been recorked at the chateau at some point during the 1950’s or ‘60’s.

​From there it was all routine. I removed the cork from the auger of the corkscrew and put it aside on one of the napkins. I wiped out the inside of the neck and the top of the bottle thoroughly. Then I slowly and gently decanted the wine into the decanter, viewing the candle through the shoulder of the bottle to be mindful of any sediment (surprisingly, in the end there was very little sediment at all). I placed the bottle and decanter down and finally looked up. Broadbent was smiling. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “young man, that’s one of the best jobs of decanting I have ever seen.” I simply nodded and mumbled my thanks, somehow resisting the urge to come completely unglued. I then found the bottle’s owner and handed him the bottle and decanter.

The dinner, a multi-course affair, was a great success. James Grandison, a friend of Joe’s, did the cooking and it was superb. I was drafted to do all the wine service and was more than happy to oblige. The lineup of wines from the various collectors’ cellars was the stuff of legend: a magnum of 1982 Krug vintage to start, 1947 Chateau Haut-Brion Blanc, the infamous bottle of 1876 Chateau Gruaud-Larose, 1996 Chateau Palmer, 1961 Chateau Cheval Blanc, 1978 Henri Jayer Vosne Romanée Les Brulées, the 1983 JJ Prüm Eiswein, and a bottle of 1900 d’Oliveiras Moscatel to finish the evening off.

Throughout the meal, Michael was asked to provide commentary about each of the wines served and he did so brilliantly and graciously. Toward the end of the meal I served the Prüm Eiswein. After pouring, Broadbent took a sip, looked up at me, and said, “perfection.” And it was.

The following year Michael wrote about the dinner in his column in the May 2003 issue of Decanter. He described the evening and the wines in detail. Here are his thoughts on the two wines of note:

“The first of the reds was Gruaud-Larose of a scarcely ever seen pre-phylloxera vintage, 1876. It had been recorked at the chateau and almost certainly emanated from Cordier’s sale at Christie’s in 1976. Palish, with orange-tinged maturity; its fragrance was discernible despite the initial whiff of banana skins and final relapse; tart and creaking yet remarkably good for its age and vintage. One has to make allowances.”

“Happily, along came a JJ Prüm Wehlener Sonnenuhr Eiswein of a favourite Mosel vintage of mine, 1983. Orange amber-gold; a scent of apricots and refreshing whiff of tangerine; sweet of course, caramelly, raisiny, chocolatey. What Parker might call ‘decadent’ and what I shall merely regard as unashamedly appealing. Perhaps we mean the same thing.”

Michael closed the column with a wonderful remark:

“So this is how half a dozen collectors show and share their wines – with friends, and generous to a fault.”
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I think back to that night at Subterraneum, the dinner, and the brief time I was able to share with Michael. It is truly one of the highlights of my career—something I treasure. So Michael, here’s to you. Thank you for everything you did for our industry. It is beyond measure. You will be greatly missed. Cheers and Godspeed! 

Everyone, hope you’re keeping safe and healthy during this very strange time. This short missive is about an approach to learning tasting for the beginner student. In the past I’ve said that the process of becoming a professional taster (for exam purposes or not) is a journey with an untold many steps. And that the journey requires a duration of time and lots of tasting practice with wine in hand--or not.
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I’ve also emphasized the fact that there are no short cuts. There is no hacking becoming a proficient taster just as there is no hacking being an opera singer or a downhill skier. All require a lengthy learning curve, coaching, and again lots of practice.

That’s the bad news—there are no short cuts. The good news is that this is wine we’re dealing with and not widgets. Wine, as in one of the greatest gifts from nature mankind has ever stumbled upon. That said, when you first start out on a wine exam track the tasting aspect can seem overwhelming—regardless of curriculum.

It brings to mind the old proverb about eating an elephant one bite at time. With tasting, this ancient quip applies in the form of incremental learning and practice. Keeping the elephant in mind, here are some tips about tasting and wine in general.

Memorize the grid: regardless of whether you’re using the MS or the WSET tasting grid, the very first thing you must do is memorize it. Break the grid down into groups of three terms and memorize their definitions. Be able to explain the terms and the grid to someone who’s not in the wine industry. Famed physicist Richard Feynman once said that if you can’t explain something to an eight-year-old, you really don’t know it. Nothing could be truer.
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Learn common wine terms: find a good glossary of wine terms and begin to chip away at it daily, again in three-to-five-word increments. In the beginning focus on terms that have to do with tasting. Again, be able to explain the terms to someone who’s not in the industry. Otherwise, you don’t really know them and you certainly won’t remember what they mean.

Improving memory for basic aromatics and flavors: there are about 25-30 aromas and flavors commonly found in a majority of all wines. Things as basic as lemon, green apple, and vanilla. I call this list the Basic Set. Work on your memory for these elements for a few minutes every day—without wine. Tasting will become much easier if you do (see the last post for more info on the Basic Set).

Structure practice: practice tasting with a focus on structure--the levels of acidity, alcohol, phenolic bitterness, and tannin in any given wine. In particular, practice isolating the elements on your palate. Separate what each tastes and feels like, as in the bitter taste and astringent feeling of tannin.

Connect the dots: when you taste for structure, start to connect the fruit character of the wine and the structure to the kind of climate where the grapes were grown. For example, a wine with higher alcohol and less natural acidity that shows really ripe fruit is almost always from a warmer growing region. Likewise, a wine with restrained alcohol and higher natural acidity with tarter fruit is usually from a cooler growing region.

Write your own varietal descriptions: there are many list of grape variety descriptions available, but you need to create a personal list with your own markers for each grape and what makes them easy to identify—for you. Start with the easy grapes/descriptions and write one or two a day—or any time you taste an appropriate wine. Read them regularly—out loud if you can. It’s yet another way to use multiple-sense memory to identify a grape and wine when the time comes.

Get a Coravin: the one wine accessory you must own for tasting practice is a Coravin. If not familiar, a Coravin is a device with a surgical needle attached to a small tank of argon. The needle can be placed all the way through a cork allowing wine to be taken from the bottle. The volume of wine is then replaced by the argon which acts as a preservative. Most importantly, the cork remains intact and the remaining wine preserved. While the up-front cost of a Coravin is far from inexpensive, it will save untold thousands of dollars in the long run by allowing you to purchase best examples of classic wines and taste them multiple times.

Tasting practice in pairs: taste wines in pairs using the Coravin. Always compare a more challenging wine with a wine that’s easy to recognize. For example, a dry Chenin Blanc from the Loire vs. New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Focus on impact compounds--the most important aromas and flavors--and the differences in structure. These two aspects are the most important in varietal recognition.

One bite at a time! Keep a journal of the work you’re doing each day and the wines you’re tasting/working with. Be patient with your progress. You’ll be surprised at how much progress you can achieve even in a short period of time with consistent work. Remind yourself often that tasting is unlike anything you’ve ever learned. That’s simply because practically everything else you’ve ever learned just involved visual memory. Learning how to taste requires the use of multiple senses in rapid sequence. It’s not exactly easy—but more than worth the effort and certainly the journey.  

Cheers!

“Darling, we’ll always have apple…”

Recently, I was in Napa teaching my intro to tasting workshop. The students in the class were a mix of industry people and a few consumers who just happened to be in the valley for the day and wanted to take a wine tasting class. And this was their first-ever wine class (!). Even though it’s advertised as an introductory class, the water gets deep pretty quickly. I cover a lot of information in detail—all in the first 90 minutes. Beginners often struggle because there are so many new terms and concepts presented in rapid succession. Add to that the fact that their smell/taste memory probably isn’t dialed in, much less in shape. Needless to say, I make sure to answer all questions and that everyone is on the same page.

One concept covered early on in the class that often baffles students is a simple one: fruit; as in, smelling and tasting fruit in wine. When I start going on about how the Chablis we’re tasting smells like green apple and lemon, an unsettled silence usually follows. It’s like there’s been a momentary disturbance in the force.

At this point I have to stop for the first of many mini-reality checks of the day. In this case, that assessing fruit in wine is the single most subjective aspect there is to tasting. There really is nothing else close. I assure the students that the fruit they recognize in a glass of wine is completely based on their life memories of said fruit. Thus, what they find in a glass of wine for fruit will probably be different from everyone else. Which means that in any given wine, my lemon could be your lime and my grapefruit might be your kumquat.

If calling fruit in any wine is so subjective, what is important about fruit in wine? I explain to the students that the categories of fruit can and should be linked to other factors that help make up the quality and character of the wine—and this should be the focus. More on that in a moment. For now, here is a breakdown of the categories of fruit that can be found in white and red wines.

White Wines

With white wines, specific groups or families of fruit are named.

Apple and pear: a broad category that can be found in practically every white wine. However, more specificity is needed here in the form of calling green vs. red apple, etc.

Citrus fruit: broken down further into tart citrus (lemon, lime, grapefruit, etc.) and sweet citrus (orange, tangerine, Mandarin)

Tropical fruit: pineapple, mango, passion fruit, papaya, etc.
Stone fruit: peach, apricot, nectarine

Melon: green, white, orange

Red Wines

With Red wines, colors or qualities of fruit are used. However, once a color/quality is identified, the taste or student needs to be more specific in describing the fruit.

Red fruit: fruits that are sour (think cool climate and less ripening) including red cherry, red raspberry, red currant, strawberry, cranberry, plum, pomegranate, and rhubarb

Black fruit: fruits that are riper (think warmer climate and more ripening) including black cherry, blackberry, black raspberry, black currant, black plum

Blue fruit: blueberry and boysenberry (could include other more esoteric berries such as olallieberry and schnozzberry. Just kidding).
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Dried fruit: raisin, prune, sultana, fig, date

Fruit Quality or Character

Once specific kinds of fruit have been identified, the character or quality of the fruit needs to be assessed. Note that I use the two terms interchangeably here. You should too. The quality or character of fruit in a wine is very important. In fact, I think it’s one of the three most vital aspects of tasting. For the record, the other two important aspects are impact compounds and accurately assessing structure (I cover both in past posts).
Here’s a list of descriptors regarding fruit quality/character that should be self-explanatory. Note that there are more descriptors than listed here.

• Fresh
• Tart
• Sweet
• Ripe
• Candied
• Dried
• Jammy
• Cooked
• Stewed

Some examples: in a young Riesling from the Mosel Valley in Germany, one might find green apple, mango, white peach, and lime, and describe them as fresh and tart in quality. The fruit and qualities are connected to the grape itself as well as the cool Continental climate found in the Mosel Valley.

Likewise, the fruit in a Zinfandel from Paso Robles might be described as ripe, jammy, cooked, and tart. The range of different fruit qualities here are linked to Zinfandel and its tendency to ripen unevenly, the very warm climate of Paso Robles, and the possibility of the fruit having been harvested late in the season when it is beyond fully ripe. 

Fruit Quality/Character and Cause and Effect

The take away with fruit quality? It should always be linked to the climate of the growing region, timing of the harvest, and more. All of which lead directly to the concept of Cause and Effect. The concept of Cause and Effect poses the question why--why a wine looks, smells, and tastes the way it does. The answers have to do with climate once again, the timing of the harvest, the quality of vintage, and a myriad of decisions made in the vineyard and the winery. Consider the following fruit categories commonly found in red wines and how they equate to cause and effect:

A red fruit dominant wine like a Pinot Noir: thinner-skinner grape, cooler climate, less ripening, lower alcohol, and higher natural acidity.

Black fruit dominant wine like a Cabernet Sauvignon: thicker-skinned grape, warmer climate, riper fruit, higher alcohol, and lower natural acidity with possible acidulation.
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Dried fruit dominant wine like a Grand Reserva Rioja: oxidation due to the actual age of the wine, and extended time in barrel and bottle as required by law.

Using the Basic Set to Improve Smell Memory

How can one improve memory of fruit and quality of fruit? In the past I’ve written about a concept I call “The Basic Set”: the smaller subset of aromas and flavors that appear in over 80% of all wines. Here is a list of fruit in the Basic Set:

• Green apple
• Red and/or Golden Delicious Apple
• Pear
• Lemon
• Lime
• Orange
• Pineapple
• Banana
• Peach
• Apricot
• Black cherry
• Blackberry
• Sour red cherry
• Red raspberry
• Cranberry
• Raisin
• Prune

The premise of the Basic Set is this: if you work on your memory of all the above on a regular basis—without wine--your ability to recognize any of these aromas/flavors in a glass of wine will improve exponentially. But how? Odds are as you read through the list you brought up internal images in your mind’s eye of your own life memories as a way to recall each aroma. I’ve written many times previously that olfactory and taste memory are intensely visual. We shouldn’t be surprised at the image/olfactory connection. After all, we learn practically everything else visually.

Exercise

To work on your memory of the components of the Basic Set we’ll use the natural image/smell memory connection and submodalities--the structure of your internal images. To do so we’ll use your memories of the following aromas/flavors:

• Green apple
• Lemon
• Black Cherry
• Pineapple
• Raisin

With each of the above take the internal image of your memory and intensify it by do the following:

a. Make the image larger

b. Make the image closer

c. Make the colors in the image brighter

Practice! A bit of repetition can dramatically improve your memory of the basic aromas/flavors and as well as enable you to recognize even trace amounts in a glass of wine. Go through the list above at least once a day—it will take less than five minutes but the benefits will be dramatic. And the next time you pick up a glass of wine the fruit will be front and center and easy to describe.
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Cheers!

Using Internal Visual to Calibrate the Structure in Wine

A belated Happy New Year to everyone! I hope the holidays provided some much-deserved quality time off with family, friends, and most of all solo down time. This is the time of year when people tend to make resolutions about various things including health, saving, being on time, etc. However, I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. In the past I’ve found that any resolutions I make are quickly forgotten after, causing needless pseudo-guilt and moments of almost sort-of pretending to feel bad.
 
Instead, I like the idea of “course corrections,” or minor tweaks in habit that over time lead to considerable changes. Course corrections can be very effective. How effective? Would we even know about the Titanic if the ship’s direction had been changed a mere three-degrees a few hours before its fatal meeting with an iceberg? Doubtful.

But my New Year’s post is not about resolutions or course corrections. I will leave that to you. This post is about two completely disparate ideas that will shortly collide in meaningful fashion.
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The first idea: according to behavioral scientists, most of the human race, as in over 93%, is visual-dominant internally. That means most of us think in pictures and movies.

The second idea: in wine, structure matters. In this context structure means the levels of acidity, alcohol, phenolic bitterness, and tannin in a given wine.

Structure is important; it’s the essence of any wine--its very bones and sinews. Structure is how a wine physically presents itself to us when we taste it. Without it there are no dots to connect when we taste. And if called for, any sense of logic needed to make a meaningful conclusion is non-existent.

No surprise that a professional taster has to be able to quickly, accurately, and consistently judge structural levels in any wine. But this is no easy task. In fact, it’s a challenge for most people. Why? Because it’s difficult to put a quantity on the degree of a physical sensation (as in sour or bitter), much less to be sensitive to it being present in the first place. Given all that, how can one become proficient at assessing the degree of said structural elements?

Back to the premise of this post and the delightful (and useful!) confluence of the two ideas above. The sum total is this: we represent a great deal of the internal tasting experience visually. Smell and taste memories are indeed images and movies that we experience and catalogue over a lifetime. However, precious few people are aware of the internal visual aspect of wine. This simply because it requires one to simultaneously be aware of the experience and the process. A guide of sorts is required to help one become aware of what they already do naturally. Had I not worked with such a guide--a behavioral scientist--ten years ago, I wouldn’t be writing about any of this.

Structure is no exception to the internal visual rule. In fact, it’s the key to being consistent with it. To point, in conversations and interviews with colleagues and students over the last decade, I’ve found that with very few exceptions, all of us use internal scales or dials to visually calibrate structure levels. 

Personally, I use an internal scale that resembles an old slide rule that’s positioned several feet out in front of me at eye level. Yes, I know that you’re thinking. That’s more than a bit strange. But stay with me. The scale is about four feet long with marks for low, medium-minus, medium, medium-plus, and high that correspond to similar marks on the deductive tasting scale. A red button of sorts is positioned on medium in the middle of the scale. When I taste for structure (be it acidity, alcohol, or whatever), I watch the button as it moves until it stops at the appropriate mark on the scale that matches what I’m tasting/sensing in the wine.
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For example, if I’m tasting a wine to gauge the level of acidity, I watch the button on the scale move to the appropriate mark. Then I internally point to the mark and say (internally) “it’s medium-plus acid,” or whatever the level happens to be. If I’m not quite sure about the accuracy, I can bring the scale in closer to me and more, smaller increments on the scale appear as it gets closer.    

Do you use internal visual to assess structural levels when you taste? You may already do so but not be aware of it. Regardless, if you don’t, you should. Using internal visual calibration takes the mystery out of assessing structure and makes it a relatively easy and consistent task. Installing an internal scale or dial in your internal field is also easier than you may think. Try the following: first, take a look at the scale below used for assessing structural elements taken from the deductive tasting grid:

Low – Medium-Minus – Medium – Medium-Plus – High

Now place a red dot or button squarely in the middle of “Medium.” Next, slide the button sideways to the left to “low.” Reset the button on “medium.” Now slide the button to the right on “high.” And reset the button on “medium” again. Got it?

Now it’s time to create your own personal scale, dial, or whatever design works best for you. It goes without saying that if the above scale/design doesn’t work for you, create something else; a dial or different kind of scale. Remember, it’s your internal IMAX theater. You can design whatever works best for you. Once you’ve settled on a design, put markers on it for all the levels: low, medium-minus, medium, medium-plus, and high. Then put a brightly-colored button of sorts on the medium marker that can move over all the levels as needed.

Calibrating Your Scale with Extremes

Now that you have your internal scale, taste wines in pairs for extremes: lower vs. higher alcohol, acid, tannin, and phenolic bitterness. As you taste the wines, match your internal scale to the level of acidity (or other structural element) that you’re tasting. You can also confirm structure levels by using internal auditory. For example, when tasting for alcohol with your scale, you can also say (inside voice, please), the alcohol is high or whatever the appropriate level. Here are some suggested pairs of wines to taste that will show extremes in structure.

• Acidity: Alsace Gewurztraminer vs. Clare Valley Riesling
• Alcohol: Mosel Kabinet Riesling vs. Central Coast Viognier
• Phenolic bitterness: Chablis AC vs. Alsace Gewurztraminer
• Tannin: Beaujolais Villages vs. Barolo/Barbaresco

Once you’ve calibrated the extremes for structure you can quickly branch out to find “Medium” and then “Medium-Minus” and “Medium-Plus.” With some practice, tasting for structure using internal visual will become easy and something you do automatically. And that’s a very good thing.

Other Scale Applications

Are there other possible uses for an internal scale or dial? That’s a good question. Now I’m going to go completely Marin County on you. If we can use an internal visual scale—as in the one for structure we’ve invented above--how else could a scale/dial be useful? What else could we use it for? For me, the first thing that comes to mind is an internal sense of time or timing. Or to represent the intensity of a feeling—be it emotional or physical. There’s a lot to explore here but start with the basics of tasting and structure. You’ll be glad you did.
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Salud!

It’s the holidays yada yada. Once again, the year is careening to a close with alarming finality and potential for collateral damage. Family dinners and corporate gatherings loom large on the horizon like accidents waiting to happen. Now more than ever the art of being able to instantly redirect a bizarre or political conversation is more than a necessity—it’s a survival skill. But take solace. It’s all temporary. And with the right flavor of strong water, it’s manageable. Here’s some sage holiday advice:

Holiday gifts: when in doubt, give sparkling wine or Champagne. And you don’t have to spend the big bucks on Champagne. There are plenty of good domestic bubblies, not to mention Franciacorta or various Crémants.

Holiday dinners: never take an expensive bottle--or god forbid a bottle out of your cellar—to a dinner with more than six people attending. It will be a complete waste, and you might consider committing a felony as you watch some fashionista put ice cubes in a glass from your bottle of Coche-Dury Meursault. Need I say more?

Last and most important: it’s imperative that you give yourself something really nice for the holidays. You can’t possibly expect anyone to have a clue about what you really want. So, get something cool, frivolous, or shiny. You’ll be glad you did.

Otherwise, here’s the seventh annual holiday list from the TG blog. Read, listen, watch, sip, and enjoy!

The Holiday Book Bag

A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles

Recommended by good friend Andy Meyers, MS. I am not a big fiction/novel reader, but Amor Towles’ Gentleman is by far my favorite book of the year. This beautifully-written story should be on everyone’s reading list. 

Solid State: The Story of Abbey Road and the End of the Beatles, by Kenneth Womack

Kenneth Womack is considered one of the foremost Beatles scholars, and Solid State does not disappoint. The book includes lots of detail on the album's day-to-day sessions, as well as the equipment used in the recording. Most intriguing is a lengthy description of the eight-track recorder George Martin procured for the group. Note that Abbey Road is the only Beatles album recorded in stereo on an eight-track machine. The end of the book chronicles the dysfunctional end to the group months after the album was completed. Suggestion: pair Solid State with listening to the newly remastered 50th anniversary version of the album (listed below) and you’ll experience something amazing and worth repeating. 

The Style of Movement: Fashion and Dance, by Ken Browar and Deborah Ory

Ken Browar and Deborah Ory are husband-wife dance photographers. The sequel to their gorgeously photographed The Art of Dance includes images of more than eighty of the world’s most famous dancers, captured in movement and styled in garments designed by some of fashion industry’s biggest names. The Style of Movement is simply remarkable for its beauty and photographic virtuosity. It’s a wow.

The Princess Bride, by William Goldman

I was in Book Passage in the Ferry Building in San Francisco last month while in town for an event. I picked up a shiny new copy of Princess Bride and started reading. The next thing I knew I was at the counter buying it. I read the entire book on a flight to San Diego later that day. Here’s the deal: if you’ve not read The Princess Bride, you simply must. And if you’ve read it, you need to re-read it. It’s my favorite adult-ish fairy tale and a fantastic movie as well (see below—again). 

Benjamin Franklin: An American Life, by Walter Isaacson

Another brilliant biography from Walter Isaacson. The author chronicle’s Franklin’s complex life and spares no detail in the later years when he played such a critical role in the negotiating the end of the Revolutionary War with the British, as well as his part in writing both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. A great read.

Salt Fat Acid Heat: Mastering the Elements of Good Cooking, by Samin Nosrat

Samin Nosrat is that rare chef who possesses the language-writing skills to get at the essence of what makes good cooking good. Isolating the four basic vital taste elements of cooking, i.e., the title, Nosrat takes you through basic kitchen technique and gives you the “chops” to be able to improvise successfully in the kitchen with just about anything. Everyone who likes to cook should own this book. It makes a great gift. Buy yourself a copy while you’re at it.

How the Irish Saved Civilization, by Thomas Cahill

There are lots of St. Patrick jokes and memes that surface every year around mid-March. But the real St. Patrick is so much more important to us—to all of Western Civilization, for that matter. In fact, without the St. Patrick and his establishing the monastic movement in the 4th century, it is highly doubtful that there would be any books at all. And what we call the classics from Ancient Greece and Rome would simply not exist. Thomas Cahill, noted historian and academic, writes of St. Patrick and his profound effect on tribal dark age Ireland—and the Catholic Church itself. How the Irish Saved Civilization is a wonderful read, and the first of six volumes in Cahill’s series entitled “Hinges of History.” I read all six books last spring. You should at least read this one. 

Flawless: Understanding Wine Faults, by Jamie Goode

My only wine book recommendation for the year is definitely at the deep end of the pool. Jamie Goode is an outstanding writer/blogger from the UK. His new book on wine faults should be a must-read for anyone in the industry. In Flawless, Goode takes the point of view that with a single exception (TCA), context needs to play a major role in judging what we label wine faults. Be forewarned that there is more than a bit of chemistry involved. However, the book is enormously informative and Goode does his utmost to make the very complicated understandable.  

Old in Art School: A Memoire of Starting Over, by Nell Irvin Painter

Nell Painter is the Edwards Professor of American History, Emerita, at Princeton University. She’s also an award-winning author of many books, including Sojourner Truth, Southern History Across the Color Line, Creating Black Americans, The History of White People, and Standing at Armageddon. Old in Art School is Painter’s memoire of fulfilling her lifetime dream of pursuing an art degree--at age 70. Her account is by turns humorous, sad, poignant, and courageous. And Painter’s insights on age, race, gender, and politics make the book a compelling read. Highly recommended.

Fahrenheit 451; The Martian Chronicles, by Ray Bradbury

Two Bradbury classics I re-read earlier this year on flights to hither and yon. Bradbury’s writing and storytelling can only be described as masterly. The issues in both books—especially the dystopian world of Fahrenheit 451—are timeless.
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Tunes

Abbey Road, 50th Anniversary Edition, The Beatles

The Beatles’ final studio album was remastered for its 50th birthday this year. The results are stunning in the form of better clarity, separation, and balance in the sound. I’ve always thought that side “B,” starting with Here Comes the Sun, was nigh untouchable in the realm of pop/rock music. With the new edition it sounds even better, if that’s possible. Suggestion: pair the CD with Kenneth Womack’s book listed above. 

Richard Strauss: Four Last Songs, Jessye Norman (soprano), Kurt Masur, Gewandhaus Leipzig

Jessye Norman passed away this past September at the age of 74. For decades, she was one of the top sopranos on the planet with brilliant performances and recordings in both opera and recital. Her recording of Richard Strauss’ Four Last Songs with Kurt Masur is one of my very favorite classical recordings—and widely considered the benchmark performance of the work. 

The Complete Concert by the Sea, Erroll Garner

The recording of Erroll Garner's concert in Carmel on September 19, 1955 is one of the best-selling jazz albums of all time. The reissue from 2015 contains 11 previously unreleased tracks. If you’re a jazz fan, this is a must. 

Fly the Coop: Bach Sonatas and Preludes, Emi Ferguson and Ruckus

The very mention of Bach flute sonatas may send you to a realm of Sunday brunches in questionable venues with neglected potted plants. Not so, here. Emi Ferguson is an outstanding baroque flautist and singer. Her performances of Bach with her group Ruckus takes the composer out of the museum and breathes fiery new life into the music. I’ve always thought that this was the way Bach was performed back in the day. Here’s a quick link on YouTube. Check it out:
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1subeNPTbBk

Holst: The Planets; Strauss: Also, Sprach Zarathustra, Eric Leinsdorf, Boston Symphony

Epic performances and recording by the Boston Symphony in the ‘70’s. Also, a sentimental favorite recording as Armando Ghitalla is playing principal trumpet on the works. He was one of the great artists to play the instrument in the last century. I was fortunate to study with him in grad school at the University of Michigan.
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Movies

Princess Bride

One of my very favorite movies. If you’ve never seen it, you must. If you don’t own it, you should. Pair with William Goldman’s book above. 

Good Omens

A wonderful six-part adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s novel about an angel and demon who team up to stop Armageddon. My favorite TV of the year. Likewise, pair with Gaiman and Pratchett’s cheeky novel of the same name. 

Hooch: Holiday Wines
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I’m often asked about suggestions/favorite bottles for holiday gifts or dinners. Here’s a list of perennial favorites from near and far. Some are pricier than others and some easier to find. But all are guaranteed to temporarily change your life. If you have trouble tracking something down, use winesearcher.com to find a retailer.

Bubbly

Ruinart Brut Rosé, Champagne
Iron Horse Cuvée Brut X, Green Valley
Ca' del Bosco "Cuvée Annamaria Clementi," Franciacorta

White

Henri Bourgeois Sancerre “La Cote des Monts Damnes”
Domaine Huet Vouvray Sec “Clos du Bourg”
Dr. F.-Wines Prüm Riesling Spätlese, Wehlener Sonnenuhr
Franz Künstler Riesling Grosses Gewächs, Hochheimer Hölle
Pewsey Vale Riesling “Contours,” Eden Valley
Cantina Terlano Nova Domus Riserva
Louis Michel Chablis Grand Cru Vaudesir
Mount Eden Estate Chardonnay, Santa Cruz Mountains
Peter Michael Estate Chardonnay, “Cuvée Indigène,” Knights Valley

Red

Beaux Frères Pinot Noir, Ribbon Ridge, Willamette Valley
Thivin Côte de Brouilly
Tollot-Beaut Aloxe-Corton
Thierry Allemand Cornas "Reynard"
Produttori del Barbaresco Riserva “Asili”
Castello di Ama Chianti Classico Gran Selezione “San Lorenzo”
Il Poggione Brunello di Montalcino Riserva
Planeta “Santa Cecilia,” Noto, Sicily 
John Duval GSM “Plexus,” Barossa Valley
Henschke Shiraz “Mount Edelstone,” Eden Valley
Heitz Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon “Martha’s Vineyard,” Napa Valley
Storybook Mountain Reserve Zinfandel, Napa Valley

Sticky

Dönnhoff Riesling Auslese Goldkapsel, Niederhauser Hermannshöhle, Nahe
Donnafugata Passito di Pantelleria “Ben Ryé,” Sicily
NV Seppeltsfield “Para” Grand Tawny, Barossa Valley 

Salud!

As times goes on, I have fewer criteria for the wines I like to drink on a regular basis. First, regardless of place or grape, a wine has to be well-made and typical for what it is. Mineral and earth qualities help keep my interest. But above all, a wine has to be delicious. And if I have to define the delicious-factor, it means a wine has a really good fruit-acid balance with emphasis on high natural acidity. Further, if it’s a red wine, the winemaking—as in tannin management and use of oak—also has to be good. Last but not least, the wine has to be a good value.
 
My go-to place for delicious every-day wines? More often than not, it’s Alto Adige. For those who are unfamiliar, the region of Alto Adige lies to the far north in Italy. It’s an alpine region bordered on one side by the Swiss and Austrian Alps and the Dolomites on another. As a place, it’s about as far removed from the stereotypical Tuscan countryside of misty hills lined with Cyprus trees as possible. 
 
Historically, Alto Adige was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the end of WWI. Bolzano, its major city of some 100,000-plus, is a leisurely 90-minute drive from Innsbruck, Austria, site of the 1976 winter Olympics. No surprise that over 70% of the people in the region speak German--and infrequently Italian. Several times I’ve overheard winemakers in conversation talking about how they send their kids to school in Italy or were about to head south to vacation in Italy. I would remind them that they lived in Italy only to be met with a shrug and the briefest hint of a smile. Regionality, as elsewhere in Italy, runs deep.  
 
For wine, Alto Adige is one of the Italy’s smallest regions with approximately 5,000 growers farming just over 13,300 acres. Mind you, Napa Valley has approximately 45,000 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 designated as DOC-level. No other region in Italy is close in overall wine quality.
 
The region’s unique climate is the result of a number of factors. The Dolomites and the Swiss--Austrian Alps act as an enormous rain shadow that protect the area from temperature extremes during the winter. Mediterranean influence from the south makes for some of the warmest temperatures in Italy during the summer. Combined, they create a wide diurnal shift with a marked separation between high daytime and low night temps. For viticulture that means the fruit (both apples and grapes) achieves desired ripeness levels and yet retains high natural acidity, creating balance, purity of fruit, and potential longevity in the wines.
 
The Alto Adige region is a 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 sum total is home for over 20 grape varieties with the soil 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. The comparison works. Alto Adige’s three major valleys form a letter “Y” with Bolzano as its hub (backtothefuture.wikia.com/wiki/Flux_capacitor).

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 cooperative 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. Soils here are mainly granitic and white grapes predominate plantings with some excellent Schiava produced as well.

The Val Venosta lies to the northwest of Bolzano with Merano as the major city. It's the driest region in Alto Adige and also one of the centers for apple production. It’s also the most scarcely planted valley of the three with poryphry and volcanic soils. White grapes dominate plantings. Additionally, the region is known for its mild climate, and has long been regarded as an excellent spa resort 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, 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. The vineyards of the Santa Maddalena DOC rise steeply just to the northwest of the city. The soils are poryphry-based and perfectly suited to Schiava-based reds as well as Lagrein.  
 
Cooperatives: A Reality Check

Over 70% of the wine in Alto Adige is co-op-produced. That’s because the region’s vineyards are minuscule in size on average and severely fragmented in terms of ownership--just like Burgundy. Thus, commercial winemaking on any scale can only exist within the framework of cooperatives. Usually, cooperatives are factories cranking out oceans of mediocre plonk. Not true in Alto Adige. Normally a cooperative is independently owned and buys grapes on contract from local growers. However, coops in Alto Adige are owned by the growers and everyone working at the coop is an employee. Growers therefore have a huge vested interest in farming the best possible fruit and setting high standards in winemaking. No surprise that the average quality of the wines is very high, and in some case outstanding. Terlano is a perfect example of one of the several Alto Adige coops making exceptional wine.  
 
Grapes Varieties

Alto Adige is a small region with a surprising number and range of grape varieties. Here’s a quick survey of the major varieties from the region.

Whites Grapes

Pinot Bianco: is 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. Otherwise, Alto Adige Pinot Bianco gets my vote for best every-day white wine. It belongs on every wine list much less every wine-by-the-glass list.

Pinot Grigio: there’s an ocean of Pinot Grigio made throughout northern Italy, most 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: gets its name from the village of Tramin in the Oltradige Valley. In terms of style, the Alto Adige Gewürztraminer has all the flamboyant floral-spice fruit qualities one expects from the grape while keeping elegance in style and purity of fruit.

Riesling: the few Rieslings I tasted during the week reminded me of scaled-down versions of dry Austrian wines with tart citrus fruit and stony mineral qualities.  

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: there are several producers making outstanding Sylvaner in Alto Adige with all the smoky succulent apple/pear and sweet citrus fruits and tart acidity one could hope for.

Sauvignon Blanc: the best Alto Adige Sauvignons show vibrant citrus and tropical fruit with bright pyrazinic-bell pepper notes and mineral.  

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

White Blends: one of the great secrets of Alto Adige. In the Terlano region blends based on Chardonnay, Pinot Bianco, and Sauvignon Blanc are a long-held tradition. I think they’re utterly delicious. In particular, Manincor’s Réserve ​della Contessa and Terlano’s Nova Domus Riserva are outstanding. 

 Red Grapes 

Schiava: I’m a huge fan of Schiava. It’s a wonderful combination of Pinot Noir-elegance and tart Barbera acidity with unique savory qualities. Light in color, deceptively concentrated, and Beaujolais-like, it can be served chilled and goes with anything 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—delicious!

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

Pinot Noir: Alto Adige Pinots remind me of Spätburgunder from Germany with tart cranberry/rhubarb fruit, 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 also 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. Knödels are usually served with melted butter. Need I say more? The crunchy unleavened bread called schüttelbrot is also delicious.  

Take Aways
 
Overall, I think of Alto Adige wines as having wonderful balance, purity of fruit, and diverse mineral-earth qualities. In the restaurant they show great value and versatility with a wide range of cuisines—not to mention fantastic quality-price value. At home they excel in the delicious factor. Needless to say, I’m a huge fan.
 
Wines to Look For
 
Here is a list of wines I’ve tasted recently. All are highly recommended. They're also distributed nationally, so look for them in your local market.  One more note: it's Thanksgiving week. Alto Adige wines hit the sweet spot for pairing with the traditional turkey day meal. Seek them out--you’ll be glad you did.
 
Pinot Bianco
 
2016 Muri Gries Pinot Bianco “Abtei Muri”
2017 Alois Lageder Pinot Bianco “Haberle”
2016 Cantina Terlano Pinot Bianco Riserva “Vorberg”
 
Pinot Grigio

2018 Cantina Valle Isarco Pinot Grigio “Aristos”
2017 Cantina Kurtasch Pinot Grigio “Penóner”
2017 Colterenzio Pinot Grigio
 
Sauvignon Blanc
 
2016 Cantina Kurtatsch Sauvignon “Kofl”
2016 Cantina Terlano Sauvignon “Quartz”
 
Kerner
 
2018 Abbazia di Novacella Kerner
 
Gewürztraminer
 
2018 Elena Walch Gewürztraminer “Vigna Kastelaz”
2017 Cantina Tramin Gewürztraminer “Nussbaumer”
 
White Blends
 
2017 Elena Walsch Bianco DOC “Beyond the Clouds”
2016 Manincor Réserve della Contessa
 
Schiava
 
2018 Castel Sallegg Lago di Caldaro “Bischofsleiten”
2017 Cantina Kaltern Lago di Caldaro Classico “Quintessenz”
 
Pinot Nero
 
2016 Alois Lageder Pinot Nero “Krafuss”
2016 Castelfeder Pinot Nero “Burgum Novum”

Lagrein
 
2018 Cantina Bozano Lagrein “Perl”
2017 Tiefenbrunner Lagrein “Turmhof”
2016 Cantina Terlano Lagrein Riserva “Porphyr”

“Wine is complicated. Almost impossibly so.”

Jamie Goode

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

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

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

Does wine quality actually matter?

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

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

Does appellation matter in the context of natural wine?

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

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

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

Ultimately, is this an age-demographic issue?

Should we, as wine professionals even care?

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

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

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

Context and Wine Faults

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Wines of Ton Rimbau

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

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

Back to Brooklyn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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