Good friend and fellow MS, Evan Goldstein, once explained to me the difference between a great wine and a great wine experience. The former, he said, is just as implied; a prohibitively expensive, great, or legendary bottle tasted at a trade event or via the cellar of a generous collector. A great wine experience, he went on to say, was something completely different. Where context--as in the people, place, and time--is just as important, if not more so, than the wine itself. In fact, in some cases the actual wine may not even matter.

Recently I’ve given some thought to Evan’s definitions for great wines and great wine experiences. In regards to the former, I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have tasted more than my share of great, even legendary wines over the years: 1971 Egon Müller Scharzhofberg TBA, 1961 Krug Collection, 1945 Chateau Latour, 1985 Romanée Conti, 1961 Chateau Cheval Blanc, 1982 Vega Sicilia Unico, 1974 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard, and 1941 Beaulieu Vineyard Burgundy all come to mind (the last perhaps the greatest California Pinot Noir I’ve ever tasted).

There have been great wine experiences over the years as well. As Evan mentioned, with each there’s a profound emotional connection not just to the wine, but more so to everything else in the memory as far as the people, the time or occasion, and the place. After giving it some thought, here are five of my favorite great wine experiences.

Baby Maria and Pol Roger Rosé

March 1990: my daughter Maria’s baptism at St. Dominic’s Church in Pacific Heights in the city. The wine I chose for the reception at our Fillmore St. apartment was the 1979 Pol Roger Rosé. It showed beautifully that day. I clearly remember holding Maria in one arm with a glass of the delicious rosé in the other. I also remember feeling a muddle of emotions; part proud new dad, part freaked out new dad, and the amazing love you feel for your first child—especially a daughter.

Some months later, I was invited to a Pol Roger trade dinner in the city. As luck would have it, Carla and I were seated next to Christian Pol Roger. At some point during the meal I told him that we had chosen the ’79 Rosé for Maria’s christening. He smiled, put his hand on my shoulder, and said, “May your daughter have a long and happy life.”

Trattoria Zaza and the Perfect No-Name Chianti

October 1987: Carla and I were in Europe together for the first time. We started our trek in Paris, then rented a car and drove to Blois spending several days in the Loire before heading to Burgundy. From there, we took the train to Nice, Pisa, and finally Florence.

Florence didn’t disappoint. It was the most remarkable place I’d ever experienced. After spending an afternoon in the Uffizi Gallery (!!!) and shopping in the square, we wandered about looking for a place for dinner. Not far from the cathedral, we stumbled on a joint called Trattoria ZaZa, crammed to the rafters with local students. Once inside we managed to find a table. The noise was near stadium level. The menu was limited to just pasta, pizza, and lighter fare--and the wine selection was even more limited. We opted for a liter of the house Chianti. I watched as the woman serving us drew it directly into a carafe from a huge barrel behind the bar. She immediately delivered it to our table with two clunky glasses that would have been handy in a bar fight.

​The first sip was unforgettable—the essence of Sangiovese and autumn in Tuscany. It was the most delicious red wine I had ever tasted up to that point in time. Looking back, it still is the most delicious Chianti I have ever tasted. How good? Carla and I managed to work our way through the better part of two liters of it with dinner. Enough said.

Paris Sigalas and His Remarkable Assyrtikos

Nothing is better than tasting a wine at its place of origin. The combination often makes for a great wine experience. Such was the case in September 2006 during the legendary MS tour of Greece. Ten days of seeing literally every part of the country that has anything to do with wine. We spent an average of four-plus hours a day in a van driven by a young Greek lad who wore the same synthetic disco shirt the entire trip thereby redefining the concept of terroir. 

The highlight of highlights was visiting the island of Santorini, surely one of the most beautiful spots on the planet. On the drier leeward side of the island Paris Sigalas and his crew tirelessly care for old Assyrtiko vines that are pruned close to the ground into round basket-like shapes called ampellari. I have vivid memories of our group standing in the late afternoon sun with Sigalas and his winemaker. Sigalas repeatedly mentioned the terroir, pointing at the ground which was covered with a proliferation of volcanic rocks of every kind including chunks of whitish pumice that were so light in the hand they were almost weightless.

We headed back to the winery to taste verticals of oaked and un-oaked Assyrtiko. The experience was revelatory. Sigalas’ Assyrtiko is one of a kind due to its great depth and richness with the alcohol level often up to 14.5% balanced by ferociously high natural acidity. But the hallmark of all Sigalas wines is the minerality, which is completely off the charts. There probably isn’t a better example of volcanic minerality in any wine made anywhere.

To this day, Sigalas' Santorini remains one of my very favorite white wines. Whenever I taste it, I’m instantly transported back that late afternoon standing in Sigalas’ vineyard bathed with golden Mediterranean sunlight looking at the arid, windswept vines in their odd basket shapes. The feeling is remarkable.

The Doctor Is In

May 2002: my third trip to the Mosel. It was early evening and the fourth and last winery stop for the day. By now, residual sugar and the insanely high acidity from tasting dozens of Rieslings had managed to fry the palate of everyone in the group, including mine. Since early morning, we’d been tasting wines from the superb 2001 vintage just bottled. But the best of the day was saved for last. Our final appointment was at Weingut Wegeler in Bernkastel with winemaker Norbert Breit as our host. After meeting us at the winery off a narrow cobblestone street in Bernkastel, we drove up the steep and winding road hundreds of feet above the river to the very top of the legendary Doctor vineyard. Breit pulled a newly minted bottle of 2001 Wegeler Doctor Spätlese from his leather bag, opened, and poured. From there he really didn’t need to say anything else.

Wines from the Doctor vineyard, widely considered the best in the Mosel and easily in the top five in all Germany, are known for their remarkable concentration, opulence, and precision. The 2001 didn’t disappoint. It’s one of the greatest young German Rieslings I’ve ever tasted. Standing on shifting dark slate I looked down the perilously steep slope at the tiny village below with the river snaking away in the golden late afternoon sunlight. I reached down to pick up a chunk of dark slate the size of a large paperweight and took another sip of utterly delicious Riesling. It was nectar of the gods.

My First Wine Epiphany

Christmas 1982: my first great wine experience happened on a cold Christmas night in Ann Arbor when I was in graduate school. Carla and I opted not to go home to New Mexico for the holidays that first year. Armando Ghitalla, my trumpet professor, and his wife Pauline, kindly invited us to Christmas dinner. The other dinner guests that night included H. Robert Reynolds, director of bands at the music school, and his wife.

Some weeks before, good friend Bob Reyen (who would go on to be Maria’s godfather) had given Carla and me a bottle of ’76 Silver Oak Alexander Valley Cabernet. I’d never heard of the winery much less tasted the wine, but he assured me that it was outstanding. The bottle became our donation to Christmas dinner.

With the soup course cleared, Mundy—as we liked to call him--and Pauline disappeared into the kitchen to carve the roast beast. I opted to open and pour the bottle of Silver Oak. What happened next is not easy to describe. After serving the wine, I sat down and picked up my glass. Reynolds, who had just been extolling the virtues of the bottles of ’61 Bordeaux in his collection (totally meaningless to me at the time), smelled the Cabernet in his glass and then immediately said a quiet, but very emphatic, “Wow!” Carla said that the room smelled like flowers. I quickly put my nose in the glass only to be assaulted by a tsunami of blackberry jam and spice box. I had never experienced anything remotely like it before with any wine. It was the very first time wine didn’t smell just like wine, it smelled like something—something I recognized. The bright lights shined and the angels sang—the whole enchilada. I finally got it. I finally knew what everyone was talking about. In short, I had my first wine epiphany. From then on whenever I put my nose in a glass wine smelled like “things” instead of just wine. In that moment, everything changed and wine would never be the same. I would never be the same.

Coda

Sometimes I’m asked if one can script a great wine experience, or if it can somehow be predicted. My answer is that I doubt it because part of the recipe seems to be serendipity and being open and receptive to a confluence of elements that make up a great wine experience. However, chasing an elusive great wine experience is always more than worth the effort. In reading this post, memories of both great wines and great wine experiences probably came up for you. I hope many more of both are in your future. Cheers!

It’s a common scenario: an industry person is leading a consumer tasting. During the tasting two people in the crowd have completely different responses when asked about one of the wines. And their descriptions are wildly different compared to that of the industry person--the one who theoretically should have a clue. The crowd then turns to said industry person for answers, wisdom, and guidance. Their response: “It’s OK. Everybody is different. Besides, wine is all subjective.”

I’m calling foul here. Saying wine is “all subjective” is a not only a monumental cop out, it’s simply wrong. It also reinforces widely held urban myths that wine as a subject is impossible to understand and that industry pros like us are making everything up. And while one could argue that the entire wine experience is subjective because it’s based on personal response and interpretation, there is a great deal of it that can be precisely measured.
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Before getting even more carried away, it might be useful to examine the terms objective and subjective as they apply to the tasting experience. To do so I’ll use the Master Sommelier deductive tasting grid--without the conclusion segments--as a guideline to determine which criteria fall under the objective category vs. subjective. There may also be a third category. More on that in a moment.

To start, working definitions of the terms “objective” and “subjective” as they apply to all experience are needed. A quick check on Google, the source of all human knowledge and wisdom, turned up the following:

“Objective experience: of, relating to, or being an object, phenomenon, or condition in the realm of sensible experience independent of individual thought and perceptible by all observers.”

“Subjective experience: refers to the emotional and cognitive impact of a human experience as opposed to an objective experience which are the actual events of the experience. ... For instance, we are all having a subjective experience whenever we are experiencing pain.”

Now let’s map these definitions over to the tasting experience. In wine, certain criteria can be isolated, identified, and quantified through lab analysis. We’ll call these “objective.” Other criteria are described by a taster using their personal and unique life memories. These are "subjective" as they are based on individual interpretation and are different for everyone.
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I want to introduce a third category at this point that combines both objective and subjective experience in regards to tasting. These criteria display extremes (little or none vs. a lot) that can easily be identified and are clearly objective. However, the degrees in between the two extremes are more open to interpretation and therefore subjective. Hence, objective-subjective. 

​The Grid

Following is the deductive grid broken down into objective elements that can be quantified, subjective elements that are always shaped by personal interpretation, and finally those that fall into the third objective-subjective category. 

Sight

Clarity: in wine is the result of filtration and fining—or the lack thereof. The difference between a clear wine placed next to a cloudy or hazy wine is easy to discern and agree on, as is that in between. Objective.

Brightness: the brightness scale in the deductive grid goes from dull to brilliant with several stages in between. While the extremes are easy to identify if placed next to each other, the degrees in between are definitely not. Subjective - objective.

Color: color scales for all major styles of wine have long been established. The actual names for colors may vary, depending on the source. However, anyone in the industry can connect the dots between the color of a wine and a commonly used name. Objective

Secondary colors: observing the presence of green or sliver in a young white wine or garnet highlights in an older red wine is fairly straight forward. Objective

Rim variation: there is always differentiation between the color at the core of a glass of red wine and that at the rim or edge. Objective

Sediment: regardless of tartaric acid crystals or actual sediment from non-filtration or age, sediment can easily be seen and identified. Objective

Tears/legs: here for the first time we’re in the subjective universe. The intent of observing the legs/tears/Marangoni effect in a glass of wine is to gain a first impression of the body/weight of the wine, which is related to the level of alcohol, glycerin, and/or the presence of residual sugar. However, observing legs-tears generates a general impression at best and presupposes multiple things including quality glassware that is cleaned and polished. Subjective

Nose

Faults: while degree of sensitivity to common wine faults is unique to the individual, the presence of TCA (trichloranisole), high levels of VA (volatile acidity), Brettanomyces, or other compounds can be precisely measured in the lab. Objective

Intensity of aroma: intensity of aroma is directly related to fruit ripeness, certain impact compounds, and structural levels, especially alcohol. Given that, one could place a Pinot Grigio from Alto Adige next to a Gewurztraminer from Alsace and the difference in aromatic intensity would be obvious. However, tasting experience would be needed to calibrate the degrees of aromatic intensity between the two extremes. Objective – subjective

Age: oxidative character in wine is due to time spent in barrel or bottle. Again, two extremes are useful in determining age in the context of this discussion: a young vibrant and fresh white wine vs. the same wine, which has been in bottle for a decade or longer, showing dried fruit character as well as secondary and tertiary aromas and flavors. Hence, old vs. young vs. degrees of development. Objective – subjective

Fruit: at heart, describing fruit in wine is really the source of the entire objective-subjective debate. Our response to fruit qualities in wine is always dependent on our unique life memories of said aromas and flavors. Hence, my “kiwi” call on a particular white wine could be your Bartlett pear, which might be someone else’s Fuji apple. In this case, we are all equally correct in our calls. Subjective and thus it will always be…

Fruit quality: back to the objective universe. Tart fruit due to lack of ripeness results less alcohol and higher natural acidity. Ripe, even raisinated fruit qualities are due to … ripe and raisinated fruit, which means higher alcohol and less natural acidity in the wine. Fruit quality can easily be linked to structural elements that can easily be quantified in a lab. I’m calling objective here.

Non-fruit: here a mix of objective-subjective with a strong nod to objective. With subjective, one’s life memories come into play in calling various flowers, herbs, and spices in a wine. Beyond that, the non-fruit category lands squarely in the objective camp in the form of important impact compounds in wine, many of which are chemical in nature. Objective -- subjective

Earth-mineral: while debate and conjecture over earth-mineral has long raged in the industry and beyond, recent use of DNA sequencing technology shows the role bacteria and yeasts in vineyard soil play in fermentation as well as the chemical compounds in the finished wine. However, it’s worth noting that smelling and tasting mineral and earth in wine is something that usually requires experience on the part of the taster. Objective - subjective

Wood: beyond the obvious aromas and flavors from oak aging, putting wine in a barrel adds chemical compounds from the actual wood as well as properties from tasting/caramelizing the inside of the cask. Objective

Palate

Dryness/sweetness: due to the presence (of lack of) residual sugar. Easy call: objective

Body: due to the levels of alcohol, glycerin, and dry extract. All easily measureable and therefore objective

Fruit: confirming what was smelled in the wine. Again, fruit falls squarely into the subjective camp.

Fruit quality: confirming that fruit quality is the result of structural levels as they relate to harvest timing and regional climate. Objective

Non-fruit: as with the nose, bits of subjectivity overshadowed by impact compounds and other elements which can be cultured out in a lab. Objective-subjective

Earth-mineral: ditto the nose. Objective - subjective

Wood: as above, objective

Acidity: while every individual has unique tolerances to each, all the structural elements (levels of acidity, alcohol, and tannin) can easily be quantified in a lab--including acidity. Objective

Alcohol: ditto above. Objective

Tannin: same. Objective

Balance: regardless of definition, defining balance in a wine tends to be a moving target and finding universal agreement far from easy. Subjective

Finish: the length of the finish of any wine is not always agreed on—even by seasoned pros. Subjective

Complexity: many definitions to complexity. We’ll go with the one that says complexity in wine is determined by the number of aromas and flavors combined with how much the wine changes on your palate. If it’s a matter of counting, then an objective vote makes sense. However, how a wine evolves on the palate does not make for universal agreement. Objective-subjective

Scorecard

I used 28 of the 43 total criteria on the deductive grid. My scorecard breaks down as follows:

• Objective: 15 criteria or 53%
• Objective-subjective: 8 criteria or 28%
• Subjective: 5 criteria or 19%

Coda

What can we take away from this less-than-official survey? That tasting is a blend of purely objective and purely subjective experience with a fair amount of the two combined. Perhaps the most important take away is that one cannot generalize tasting as “all subjective” because it’s not true. Further, the more experienced one is as a taster, the more objective the wine experience becomes. The less experienced, the more subjective. To point, Michael Meagher, MS, recently told me, “Once I viewed deductive tasting as not something that I subjectively did, but rather as something that was purely objective and driven by unadulterated data, it became a lot easier to connect the dots.” I couldn’t agree more.
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Ultimately it’s our job as professionals and educators to make absolutely clear to consumers and students alike that tasting is a combination of objective and subjective experience. In doing so we also need to show them how to connect to their innate ability and memories. If we do our job, everyone will avoid massive confusion--especially those just getting into wine. And that’s a very good thing. 

At a recent conference, good friend Peter Granoff, MS, and I drew the task of taking a group through a dozen wines from the Roussillon region during a luncheon. In the pregame conversation over coffee, we were going through tech sheets for each of the wines. At one point Peter chuckled, shook his head, and said, “You’re not going to believe this.” He handed me the sheet for a sweet fortified wine from the Rivesaltes. I read it and had the same reaction. Here’s a verbatim quote from the tech sheet printed from the winery’s website:

“Amber dress, reflections caramel. The nose on the cooked red berries, the pit (core), and the vanilla is a prelude to a molten, elegant palace, skated by the time, when gets involved in aromas of malt, peat, wax, and always cooked fruits, before one finale which lets drill the rancio.”

Immediately images from the “Surrealist Manifesto” by Andre Breton started ping ponging inside my head. Aside from a seriously mangled translation, the description for the wine was somewhere between appalling and nonsense. It was also useless as far as our presentation was concerned despite the fact that the wine turned out to be delicious.

A tech sheet, if not familiar, is a single page document about a specific wine usually written by the winery or in some cases the importer or distributor. The sheet lists all the pertinent technical information about the wine including how and where the fruit was grown, how the wine made and aged, and potentially much more. Tech sheets are important. Anyone in an industry buying position, be it for restaurant or retail, needs well-crafted tech sheets to have the right information to help make sensible purchasing decisions. Unfortunately, six out of ten times (and I’m being generous here), they fall short in providing quality information. Sometimes, as with the wine above, they border on the incomprehensible.

After giving it some thought, I decided to create a template of sorts for tech sheets. I humbly submit the following. Mind you, I wrote it to be as comprehensive as possible knowing full well that the complete template would only apply to a fraction of all wines. But I wanted a blue print that could be used as a starting point.

Tech Sheet Template

​General Information

Complete name of the wine: including vintage, region, appellation, sub-region, even specific vineyard if appropriate

Classification: i.e., the 1855 Classification for Bordeaux or the VDP Grosse Lage Classification in Germany.

Cases produced: in six or 12-bottle cases

Grape variety or blend: if a blend, list percentages for each grape from highest to lowest.  

Viticulture

Harvest dates: give a range if necessary

Ripeness levels at harvest: in brix or other (degrees öechsle, etc.)

Fruit condition: note late-harvest or botrytis-affected fruit as appropriate

Vineyard location: as specifically as possible

Vineyard elevation: in feet or meters

Vineyard size: in acres or hectares

Yields: in tons per acre or hectoliters per hectare

Climate: continental, maritime, etc.

Clonal and rootstock selections: clonal selections are especially important with grapes like Pinot noir. Don’t get carried away; a max of three clones listed does the job. Include the rootstock type if available.

Soil types: important--but keep it brief.

Age of vines: listed by the year the vineyard was planted or simply the age of the vineyard. Don’t bother with the always-abused “old vines” moniker unless the vineyard in question is over 50 years old. Ahem.

Trellising: Guyot, gobelet, etc.

Irrigation: vs. dry farming

Farming practices: organic vs. biodynamic, etc.
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Hand vs. machine harvesting

Winemaking

Pressing: whole cluster vs. destemming

Press type: basket, coquard, bladder, etc.

Yeast type: native vs. cultured (keeping in mind that all yeast is “native”). List specific cultured yeast.

Pre and post-fermentation maceration: length of time for either or both. Also, include temperature for pre-fermentation maceration (cold soak).

Fermentation vessel: stainless steel, oak, or other (concrete tanks, amphora etc.)

Fermentation techniques: punch-down, delestage, whole cluster, carbonic maceration, etc.

Length of primary fermentation: in days or weeks

Malolactic fermentation/conversion: yes/no and if yes, list the percentage of the wine that went through ML

Lees contact: how long and if batonnage is used

Aging

Barrels: size (in liters or gallons), origin (country and/or forest), and times used. If the barrels are a mix of ages, list as appropriate.

Time in wood (or tank): in months or years

Fining: substances used (or unfined)

Filtration: methods used (or unfiltered)

Bottle age: in months or years

SO2: if added during winemaking or at bottling (or not)

Closure type: natural cork, screwcap, Vinolok, plastic, etc.

Technical Data

ABV (alcohol by volume): Be semi-accurate. We can tell.

Residual sugar: in grams per liter

TA (total acidity): in grams per liter

pH: can be listed instead of TA

The Rest

Growing season: provide 75-100 words max about the season including bud break timing, issues such as drought vs. heavy rainfall, and general temperature trends. Compare to a recent similar vintage if appropriate.

Food and wine pairing suggestions: don’t bother here unless you have a clue. There’s more than enough, “works well with pasta, roasted lamb, and sushi,” nonsense on back labels as it is. BTW, the TTB (Trade and Tax Bureau) actually calls the back label the front label and vice versa. I will say no more.

Tasting notes: for the sake of humanity, leave out any romantic and/or pithy suggestions about enjoying the wine such as, “to be savored during candle-lit walks on the beach.” Seriously. Also, avoid comparing your wine to famous wines from other regions (California Chardonnay to Burgundy, for example) unless you are absolutely sure that the comparison is relevant. Finally, any tasting notes included need to be short and devoid of BS or marketing speak.

Coda

While this may seem like a lot of information, it’s actually not. When faced with choosing between three Crozes-Hermitages or a half-dozen Russian River Valley Chardonnays, a good tech sheet can help a buyer choose one wine over the rest. Again, I’m not expecting any producer to adopt my template as is. It’s intended to be a guideline. Hopefully, wineries will give tech sheets more thought and provide buyers with useful and relevant information to help make their day-to-day lives easier. Then the wineries would sell more wine. What a concept.

One can always hope. 

In his recent column, “In Wine and Critics, Populists Find an Easy Target,” New York Times wine critic, Eric Asimov, writes of the recent trend of criticism and mistrust of wine writers, professionals, and critics by the public. Asimov begins the column, “It’s not surprising to see this again, at a time when knowledge and expertise have been dismissed at the highest levels, and when culture and the arts seem to have lost some value in America.” Asimov then asks, “Why is wine so regularly singled out in the United States to be assailed as something of a con game? And what is it about wine critics that invites such gleeful dismissals of their knowledge and judgment?”

I completely agree with Asimov. At this time, expertise on practically any given subject is not only not getting its due--it’s being roundly criticized and even gleefully assaulted. In regards to wine, the answer is a perfect storm of multiple factors:

• The wine culture in the U.S. is still relatively young—35-40 years at most.
• There is a puritanical anti-alcohol sentiment in our culture, the origin of which predates our country’s beginnings.
• A sizeable percentage of the U.S. population never consumes alcoholic beverages due to religious or other reasons. Further, this same demographic seems categorically incapable of separating wine from spirits in regards to context and consumption. All alcohol is considered “evil” to some degree.
• Interest in fine dining, cooking, and eating healthy is still the exception and not the rule. An alarming percentage of Americans routinely consume processed, boxed, canned, frozen, and fast foods. Beverages at table during a meal could be anything from soft drinks, coffee, tea, or energy drinks. The current health and obesity crises? No surprise.
• Olfactory memory is simply not important—or valued--in our culture. Anyone who works in or writes about an industry requiring a high level of olfactory expertise such as wine, beer, spirits, or perfume is always viewed with great suspicion. The fact that someone who is a trained professional with years—even decades—of experience and can smell “things” in a glass of wine, or vial of perfume for that matter, is not taken seriously. The common accusation is that they—as in we--are making it all up.
• Wine has no inherent vocabulary. Over time the industry has begged, borrowed, and stolen terms from other completely unrelated fields. The result is a patchwork of verbiage destined to create confusion and disagreement—just within our industry. Viewed from the outside, wine vocabulary and descriptions are seen as alien language. ​​

In the end, perhaps we in the industry are partly to blame for the dilemma. I say this because we generally have never defined what it is we actually do as professionals, specifically in regards to tasting. Things might improve—no guarantees here—if we define what a professional taster actually does. So with the noble intent of clarifying some very murky waters, I offer the following: a working definition of what wine professionals do, what we don't or can’t do, and finally, yes, how we can be fooled. 

What Do Wine Professional Do? 

We are trained to analyze and assess wine for the following:

• Balance and quality—or the lack thereof—at any level.
• Typicity in classic grapes and wines, and can do so in most cases with a great deal of consistency.
• Recognizing common wine faults—even in trace amounts--and further how and why some of those “faults” are contextual depending on the specific wine.   
• Knowing cause and effect in regards to why a wine looks, smells, and tastes the way it does.
• Recognizing impact compounds—a subset of the most important aromatics and flavors—that are crucial to identifying classic grapes and wines and help with assessing typicity.
• Calibrating structural elements—the levels of alcohol, acidity, and tannin--in a given wine with accuracy and consistency. Further, using structural levels to assess the quality and typicity of a wine.
• Further, we study producers, regions, classifications, and vintages over a duration of time—as in, our entire careers. 
• With experience, the tasting process becomes almost entirely objective. The more experience one has, the more objective tasting becomes--and vice-versa.
• Ultimately, we taste thousands of wines—even tens of thousands—over a long duration of time and know exponentially more about wine on multiple levels than practically any consumer. Period.

Does all the above mean you can hand us a completely random glass of wine on the fly and we’ll know exactly what it is? The answer is a resounding no. There are over 100,000 wines commercially produced every year. The expectation that someone can taste any wine blind and always be able to identify it is somewhere between ludicrous and moronic. However, that doesn't stop Asimov from commenting on blind tasting in the same column:

“The height of understanding wine nowadays seems, in popular culture at least, to be the ability to guess the identity of a wine served blind. It’s essentially a useless skill, a parlor game in the wine trade, yet it contributes to the notion that to understand and enjoy wine requires special powers.”

My response: nothing could be further from the truth. Blind tasting, at least in the context of deductive tasting used in the M.S. curriculum, is a highly disciplined exercise that requires a great deal of experience and skill. Preparation for M.S. tasting exams requires that the student first memorize a tasting grid with over 40 criteria and then master multiple concepts including many listed above; cause and effect, impact compounds, calibrating structural elements, knowing markers for classic grapes and wines, and considerable theory study. A parlor game? Hardly. It’s monumentally difficult. The pass rate for the Master’s tasting exam historically ranges between 8-15%. There’s a reason why. 

We Can Be Fooled

That being said, we as professionals can be fooled. The “instruments” of our trade—as in, our nose and palate—are part of our physical body and thus subject to change every day (even during the course of a day) given how we physically and emotionally feel.

Add to that the fact that context trumps everything. There are three variables in every tasting experience: the wine, the taster, and the context. Anything involved in the tasting including the glassware, the room, the tasting environment, the lighting, extraneous noises and odors, and more is part of the context. Change the context of a tasting and you change the tasting itself—sometimes dramatically.

For example, tell a panel of industry professionals they’ll be tasting a flight of Bordeaux blind and slip a mass-produced Cabernet into the lineup. There is always a possibility that some on the panel might miss the commercial wine. Why? Because the idea of tasting Bordeaux creates such powerful expectations based on previous experience and memory. No surprise that some might taste the mass-produced wine and think, “Wow, this is really terrible Bordeaux.”

It’s like the age-old pointless exercise of asking someone to look at a photograph for several minutes with the instruction to remember all the blue objects in the image—and then asking about red objects after the fact. Change the context in any way and change the experience. For the record, I have no patience with this kind of bullshit. Which brings me to my next point.

Wine is Not Easy

As much as we try to make wine accessible to the public (and we absolutely need keep trying to make wine accessible to the public), wine is anything but easy. There is so much to know about wine on so many different levels that no one human being can possibly keep up with it.

The music-wine comparison might actually be valid here. Consider the range of styles in music. On one side are childhood songs and commercial pop music; a late Beethoven quartet is at the other. What can we take from these two extremes? Both are music. Both are in their own way relevant and have their respective places in the vast musical universe. Both are also about personal preferences and experience. And both are ultimately NOT of the same quality. 

Wine is the same. It ranges from mass-produced commercial product packaged in boxes, jugs, cans, and tetra packs all the way to single-vineyard domain-produced bottlings made in minuscule quantities. Like music, the range of styles is extreme. Once again, both are equally relevant in that they are wine and appeal to different markets. And like music, every wine is definitely not of equal quality--which brings us back to what wine professionals do: we analyze and assess wine for quality regardless of the price point.

One further point about the music-wine comparison. One may choose over time to learn more about music—or wine. In doing so, one’s taste in either will inevitably change. In wine, one’s palate can and will change multiple times over a career arriving at a preferred style completely opposite to one’s first experiences. As Shakespeare wrote in “Twelfth Night,”

“A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.”

Coda

I will end with one last quote from Asimov’s column:

“In the populist vision, the critic is simultaneously fastidious and intimidating, comic and sinister. Wine is the official beverage of the sneering elites, who think they are smarter and better than everybody else, and thus is a natural target for fear and resentment.”
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Asimov leaves us with a challenge: the onus will forever be on us in the industry (including Asimov) to call out “snobbism” and wine errors in the media whenever we can. Collectively we need to keep trying to change the image. It won’t happen overnight, but it is the good fight. 

As a wine professional and classically trained musician, I’ve always wanted to know if wine was important in the lives of the great composers. Did Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven enjoy wine daily? Did they keep a cellar? Did they write about the wines they drank? I’ve never been able to find much about the subject of wine and composers—until now.

Enter friend and colleague Ron Merlino. Ron is owner and manager of MusicVine Performing Arts and Wine Consulting (www.musicvinearts.com). Since 2009, he’s managed a roster of internationally renowned orchestral conductors including Sir Andre Previn, Gerard Schwarz, Andrew Litton, and Keith Lockhart. He also consults on a diverse range of projects for artisanal wineries and arts institutions worldwide. Prior to starting MusicVine, Ron was Vice President at Columbia Artists Management Inc. for more than ten years where he established a reputation as one of the most sought after managers of conductors in the world.
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Ron is also a wine professional, having worked as apprentice with the late Patrick Bize at Domaine Simon Bize in Burgundy, as well as collaborating with winemakers from California, Washington State, Oregon, New York State, Michigan, and Niagara, Canada on music and wine projects. Merlino passed the M.S. Introductory Course and Certified Sommelier Exam, and is currently a WSET Diploma Candidate at the International Wine Center in New York. In the past few years, Ron has undertaken an academic study of the role wine played in the lives of the great composers. His project has led him to libraries and institutes throughout Europe. Not long ago, I spoke with him about the project. Here is our conversation. 

TG: How did your project of researching wine and the role it played in the lives of great composers come about? What was the genesis?

RM: The catalyst for the project was my good friend Matthew VanBiesen, who in 2015 was the CEO of the New York Philharmonic. He came to me and said, “Let’s start a series of pre-concert events for donors and board members where we pour wine in my office. You can talk about the intersections between what they’re going to hear on the concert and the wines you’re going to pour.” I ended up doing that for two years.

Over time I realized that there was lot more information to be collected, organized, and written about just how important wine was in the history of so many of the famous composers. That was the launching pad. From there I began to take the work deeper from a more academic point. I met with people like the director of the Beethoven House in Bonn in Germany, the director of the Handel House in Halle also in Germany, and other such institutions. I was convinced that there was something that might illuminate not only the music, but also the lives of these composers and allow us to build some bridges between the two worlds.

Vivaldi

TG: What are the kinds of things you learned in researching wine and composers that surprised you?

RM: There’s a lot. Going back to when I was doing the events with the New York Philharmonic, I was a bit of at the mercy of the orchestra’s development department as far as being handed a program for a performance and having to build something around it. For example, purely by chance I ended up having to do something on Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.

TG: What did you learn about wine, Vivaldi, and his Four Seasons?

RM: Initially I wasn’t interested in doing anything on Vivaldi. The Four Seasons has been played a million times. But I was obligated to try and ended up stumbling upon how important the history of music and wine was during Vivaldi’s lifetime. Moreover, how the two intersected in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

Vivaldi was living in Venice at the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th centuries. The ruling Rialto families, who had been in control of the Republic of Venice for hundreds of years, found themselves in a quandary. The viability of their business model of being able to trade wine and other commodities to other parts of Europe was beginning to wane. They were at the mercy of growing success on the part of Bordeaux and other places, and had to find another line of business besides trade. These families settled on the idea of making the city of Venice itself a high-end luxury destination for the elite of Europe. They built hotels, restaurants, and other entertainment venues trying to attract the wealthy elite. It’s much like the Las Vegas of modern times.

As part of that initiative, some 17 new opera houses were built in the city during the last decade of the 17th century. This created a huge demand for commissions for composers to write music for all these new opera houses. In essence, if you were a successful composer in Venice at the time, you made your bread and butter living by churning out operas week after week.
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Inadvertently, the ruling class of wine merchant families suddenly became one of the most important historical groups in the history of Italian Baroque opera. They commissioned tons and tons of music. Today, Vivaldi is known as a composer of instrumental music. In fact, a majority of his output was opera, much of which has unfortunately not survived. So there’s a very direct link between the commerce of wine and the history of Baroque Italian opera, not necessarily something people talk about. 

Bach

TG: What about J.S. Bach? Was wine important to him and his career?

RM: Yes, there’s a lot to talk about with regards to Bach; not necessarily the wines he drank but even more how important wine (and beer and coffee) were to his life, particularly during the later years when he lived in Leipzig.

A focus on Bach and wine could take up an entire lifetime of study by itself. He was incredibly aware, informed, and connected to all the political, commercial, and artistic trends around him, especially in Leipzig. He may not have been a composer that traveled very much, but he was keenly aware of a sense of nationalism like few other composers. Think about the fact that Bach spent the first half of his life in what was the boondocks. Then he got the position at the Collegium Musicum and the St. Thomas church in Leipzig. At that time, Leipzig was an epicenter for international trade. It was a place where merchants were bringing in goods from the Far East, the Middle East, and Southern and Eastern Europe. In this milieu, Bach was around a highly sophisticated culture including wine.

We know more about Bach’s political and public interest in coffee than wine. There was a raging debate about the merits of coffee throughout Europe at that time. It’s not dissimilar to the marijuana debate today, in terms of whether it’s good for you, bad for you, or a morally terrible thing to be associated with. At various points during Bach’s time in Leipzig, coffee was banned, legalized, and then banned again. But Bach was a constant advocate for coffee. We know that he was a real connoisseur and collected lots of coffee equipment and paraphernalia. He also used it as a platform to promote his own musical activities. Instead of holding concerts in churches and other places, he would famously hold his concerts in one of the coffee houses in Leipzig. It was a daring thing for him to do because coffee houses were often equated to red light districts. He would convene all his students at Zimmerman’s, a well-known coffee house, and present his concerts just as a way to be sensational. So Bach was someone who wasn’t afraid to ruffle the feathers of those around him and shake things up a bit. 

We don’t know a lot about the specific wines Bach drank, but we do have record of him asking for contracts to be paid not in currency but in coveted commodities like barrels of wines from the Rhein land in Germany. These wines were hard to come by in Leipzig and expensive. Bach also had a large apartment at the end of his life that was given to him by the Collegium Musicum. It apparently had some 15 rooms. We know from the ledger in 1750 that when he died two of the rooms were dedicated to the storage of beer, wine, and spirits. That’s not inconsiderable!

​Mozart

TG: What about Mozart? 

RM: With Mozart, we know a little bit more--but we still don’t know as much as I’d hoped we would. I think that’s partly a function of the fact that Mozart falls in the period of time where composers almost always lived under the employ of a court or royalty or the church. Only late in his life did Mozart become what we think of as a freelance artist. Most of the information that we know about his daily life only comes from that late period when he had to write letters about more practical business matters. 

Mozart was a person who was very interested in trends. He was a man of the moment, so to speak. Today we would call him something of a dandy. I don’t necessarily think Mozart was a connoisseur of fine wine and food, but he was always interested in being of the fashion of the time. It’s probably not entirely by chance that the few references we get as far as the wine he was drinking was Champagne, which shows him to be a man who was able to access something more rare and prestigious within the wine culture of the time. 

We know from his father Leopold that Mozart was fond of drinking Champagne in the daytime—not at night! I don’t if that’s a show or a display or status or if it gives us an insight into how people actually were using Champagne at that point in time. Leopold tells us specifically that the Champagne would come—and there many bottles of it—at the end of a lunch and not at the beginning. It was served with shellfish and sweets. 

(Since our conversation, Ron wrote, "The Champagne and oyster lunch apparently became fashionable in France during the reign of Louis XV, at the time when Champagne was being actively promoted by the King as a line of commerce. The wealthy elite would usually hunt in the mornings and convene for a shellfish and oyster afternoon lunch - so this may have some relation to the time of day and service of the champagne at Mozart’s home - an emulation of the French 'style'").
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We also know that Mozart often kept bottles of wine on the keyboard at night when he was composing. There are also some reminiscences from a neighbor that lived in the apartment across from him in Vienna. Apparently, in the middle of the night when Mozart was composing and needed more bottles of wine he would simply knock on the wall between the apartments and his neighbor would bring him more bottles so he could continue writing.

​Beethoven

TG: What about Beethoven?

RM: Beethoven is amazing. In regards to this research journey, he continues to inspire and amaze me every day. Every time I look, I discover more. Beethoven was the first composer in history who literally lived as a freelancer, from day one through the end of his life. He never had a job where he was employed under the patronage of someone full time. Every single piece of music he wrote, he wrote on commission. This is significant because it meant that from very early on, at least in his professional life in Vienna, he had to be capable of functioning well in high society, with the political, social, and noble elite. He had to be able to find connections and friendships with the patrons who would basically keep his career alive. This required him to be informed, conversant, adept, and able to slip in and out many different contexts, which meant that he had to be incredibly knowledgeable about things that would appeal to these people.
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Beethoven was therefore very connected to the world of culture and wine. The patrons who stuck with him throughout his lifetime had their own specific lines of business. What almost all of them had in some way, shape, or form, was some aspect that had to do with the business of wine. Through interactions with these patrons, Beethoven became very knowledgeable about a wide array of wines. We know through his letters and the conversation books he used to communicate with people because he was deaf in his later years, just how diverse the array of wine he was drinking but also what specifically he was drinking, from Bordeaux to Champagne to a wide variety of wines he enjoyed in local heurigen and taverns. He tells us what he would drink and what he would eat. He writes about being frustrated with certain kinds of wine. It’s very interesting and quite fascinating how much information is there and how important wine was in his life.

Something also worth noting about Beethoven is that while he sometimes lived in the center of Vienna, he would also take apartments outside the city walls. Frequently, the apartments were in what are now major wine regions. So Beethoven was literally living in and among the vineyards. He was taking walks through the vineyards, up and down the steep hills, and strolling next to the Danube. He was constantly composing while living in the vineyards. There’s a link between his compositional spirit and the actual land, vines, and wine.

In a bigger picture, wine for Beethoven was symbolic. It was a representation of something he wanted to aspire to in his own music. He felt that wine was something artistically more pure and incorruptible that inspired people to communicate in a more immediate way with each other. It was something that would strip away all the barriers and layers of status, and bring everyone around the table to eat and drink and be equals. I think this for Beethoven was so important. It has a lot to do with why wine played such an important role in his daily life and his professional life.

TG: I remember you mentioning a quote in a previous conversation; something Beethoven supposedly said on his deathbed that has been long misinterpreted. What is that quote?

RM: A British biographer in 1827 wrote that Beethoven’s final words before passing were, “Pity, pity, it’s too late.” The biographer and Schindler—Beethoven’s handler at the time—wanted the world to believe that the composer’s last words meant that he was raging at the heavens because of all the amazing music he had in his head that he wouldn’t be able to write. The reality is that in the very last months of his life, Beethoven’s doctors had advised him to stop drinking the kinds of wines he had grown accustomed to. He had terrible digestive issues and was going through a series of medical treatments to alleviate almost constant pain.
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At that point in his life, Beethoven was drinking almost exclusively sweet wines like Tokaji, Rust, and Ausbruch. His doctors recommended that he stop drinking entirely—and if not, drink lighter wines like German Riesling from the Mosel. Beethoven then asked his publisher Schott in Mainz to send him a shipment of Rieslings from the Rheingau. But the wines didn’t come for months and months. Beethoven sent Schott several letters asking about the wines and when they would arrive. Finally, the shipment arrived the day before he died. When his butler told him, he famously sat up in bed and said, “Pity, pity, it’s too late.” The wines he wouldn’t be able to drink. 

Brahms

TG: What about Brahms?

RM: Like Beethoven, Brahms was very connected to the world of the Rheingau. When Brahms was younger and visited Schumann, he literally hiked on foot from Mainz through the Rheingau to Düsseldorf. He kept a small travel book so we know literally every vineyard that he walked through on this long two-month trek. It made such an indelible impact on him that later in life he befriended Rudi and Laura von Beckerath, who were not only musical devotees but also wine merchants and negociants who lived in Rudesheim in the Rheingau. Brahms started to visit them every summer and spent time in the vineyards of the Rheingau. He spent a lot of time composing in there during the summers. The third symphony was written during a time when he was in Rudesheim and Wiesbaden.

Brahms drank many different kinds of wines. He was an avid traveler, visiting Italy nine different times throughout his life - no small accomplishment in those days. He was very fond of sweet wines and drank a lot of Sicilian wine, especially Marsala. We know that at the Red Hedgehog, his favorite tavern in Vienna, he had a standing barrel of Tokaji always at his disposal. And like Beethoven, Brahms’ final words are about wine, in this case also Rudesheim Riesling. On his deathbed, he was given a spoon of Riesling and said something to the effect of, “Ah, this always tastes good.”

Coda

TG: Any closing thoughts about your project?

RM: I look at Beethoven and how he able to communicate directly to the core of humanity with his music. Wine as an art form was something that he could use in his daily life as inspiration to keep going. I think it’s very profound and also important. We may be fascinated in the minutiae of wine, but to me it’s very uplifting to see wine as an art form that meant so much in a very spiritual, moral, and social way to someone as important as Beethoven. I take some comfort and solace in that. For all that we do in our professional tastings and comparisons, there is humanity, personal energy, and creativity imbued in a bottle of wine that can also inspire us to do better. 

With the Memorial Day weekend just over, the summer season is officially here. Hopefully you’ll have an opportunity to take some time off in the next few months—even a real planned vacation. And with time off, there’s never a better opportunity to catch up on a bit of reading. Here are half-dozen suggestions for summer reads. All are guaranteed to pique interest and provoke thought. At least one has no other purpose than just a fun read.

Leonardo Da Vinci, by Walter Isaacson

Walter Isaacson’s Leonardo Da Vinci is a superbly written work on the greatest genius of all time. It’s also the best book I’ve read this year--and it’s not even June. Isaacson’s book survey’s Leonardo’s life chronologically in surprising detail, from birth and early childhood all the way to his final journey to France. Many of the chapters are devoted to single works of painting or sculpture as well as various aspects of his never-ending research into the properties of water, human anatomy, and more.

Isaacson vividly portrays Da Vinci’s curiosity about the world around him as boundless, compulsive, and astonishing--only matched by his otherworldly powers of observation. Many of Leonardo’s ideas, findings, and theories predated scientific discoveries by two or more centuries—and all were accomplished without any true formal education (!). Regrettably, many projects in his lifetime went unfinished and several of his paintings were lost. However, over 6,000-plus pages of notebooks have survived and will remain a treasure trove for the ages.

Many times when reading Leonardo, I literally put the book down, smiled, and shook my head in astonishment at the range and depth of Da Vinci’s genius. He was--and is--like no other. Walter Isaacson’s Leonardo Da Vinci gets my highest recommendation; it’s a must read.

*Side note: if by chance you find yourself in the Albuquerque area between now and the end of July, you would do well to visit the Museum of Science and History. Once inside, you’ll stroll past the skeleton of a huge dinosaur only to find a world-class exhibit on Leonardo. Somehow, some way, the gods deigned to put the exhibit not in New York, Chicago, or Los Angeles, but in Albuquerque. I’m thrilled--but still trying to figure out how. Regardless, half the exhibit is dedicated to the Mona Lisa. One of the major take-aways there is that the painting we know today is actually the fourth image that Leonardo drew and/or painted on the surface. Through LAN micro-scanning technology, we can actually see the other images including the third, which is a completed painting (see my photo above). Beyond the Mona Lisa, the exhibit features more than 50 of Leonardo’s inventions, which have been constructed from wood. Many are designed to be used/manipulated to demonstrate their function, and children of all ages delight in doing just that.  

What She Ate, by Laura Shapiro

“Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are,” is the often-heard Brillat-Savarin quote. In her new book, What She Ate, author Laura Shapiro takes that idea further. Shapiro tracks six famous--even infamous--women to learn how food played a role in their lives. The author’s cast of characters includes Dorothy Wordsworth (sister of famed English poet William Wordsworth), English chef Rosa Lewis, Eleanor Roosevelt, Eva Braun, British novelist Barbara Pym, and Cosmopolitan Magazine editor Helen Gurley Brown. Using personal notes, diaries, and other published works, Shapiro is able to glean new understandings of their complex personalities. And who knew that even in the day, the FDR administration was known for serving the worst food in the history of the White House. What She Ate is well-written and definitely recommended. 

Skinny Dip, by Carl Hiaasen

I have five trips booked next month and will be spending lots of time in airports and on planes. No surprise that airplane books will be a priority. Carl Hiaasen to the rescue. He’s become my favorite author of airplane books. Earlier this year, Carla tried to get me to read one of his novels. I initially resisted but finally took the plunge and read Star Island. The book was hilarious, outrageous, and cleverly written with a plot and characters so bizarre that they were almost believable.

Hiaasen is based in South Florida, and his books are set there to take full advantage of the climate, the alligators, the seamy lowlife, and more. Skinny Dip is no exception. The book starts off with a bang on the very first page: a couple on a romantic cruise is on deck enjoying the moonlight. Suddenly, the wife is pushed over the side by her semi-evil plotting husband. She somehow survives the fall and open waters only to be rescued. The rest of Hiaasen’s novel is a twisted revenge story complete with a cast of tragically flawed characters and multiple bizarre plot twists and turns. Skinny Dip is the very essence of a summer novel. Check it out. You’ll be glad you did.   

On Color, by David Scott Kastan and Stephen Farthing

On Color is the result of ten-plus years of collaboration and conversations between David Scott Kastan, a Professor of English at Yale, and Stephen Farthing, a member of the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Kastan and Farthing approach color through multiple lenses: cultural, political, scientific, literary, historical, and more. Each of the book’s ten chapters chooses a different color as a point of departure and then illustrates how that specific color has come to influence our language, thinking, and experience. On Color is a beautifully produced and superbly written book. 

Daily Rituals: How Artists Work, by Mason Currey

On a hot Sunday afternoon in July 2007, author Mason Currey sat in front of his computer procrastinating on an article due the next day. Currey, a self-admitted morning person, always did the bulk of his work before lunch and struggled to get anything done in the afternoon. That got him thinking about the work habits of other writers. Did they share his affliction? To find out, he spent the next several hours googling famous writers trying to discover their work habits and daily schedules.

That afternoon session became an obsession. Currey started a blog called Daily Routines that quickly gained a considerable following. Over time, he expanded his survey to include artists, scientists, and other historic notables. The results are his book, Daily Rituals: How Artists Work. Daily Rituals is quintessential summer reading. The chapters are short and one can easily breeze through several or settle into a comfy chair with a chilled beverage and read for an extended period. The book’s subjects include the likes of Andy Warhol, Charles Darwin, Karl Marx, Agatha Christie, Pablo Picasso, and many more. Reading, one discovers Eric Satie’s penchant for velvet suits and daily long walks or George Balanchine’s habit of working while ironing.
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Speaking of daily rituals, mine are few: two double espresso macchiatos in the morning and a Negroni or Americano at 6:00 PM. In between, everything can go completely off the rails. But knowing that I have good coffee in the morning and a good cocktail in the evening makes it somehow easier to rein it all in. Remember, adulthood is all about balancing stimulants and depressants. 

Absolutely on Music: Conversations with Seiji Ozawa, by Haruki Murakami

Years ago, I met famed conductor Seiji Ozawa while in graduate school at a reception given by Armando Ghitalla, my trumpet professor. At the time, Ozawa was the music director of the Boston Symphony. Ghitalla had just retired a few years before as the orchestra’s principal trumpet. The two were long-time colleagues and friends, no small feat given the often-contentious relationship between a conductor and principal trumpet player. That night Ozawa was gracious, friendly, and appreciative of all my compliments about the program that he and the orchestra had just performed. He also provided thoughtful answers to my questions about tempi and phrasings in the Beethoven and Stravinsky that made up that night’s program.

Fast-forward to the holiday season last year. My brother Terry’s gift was a copy of the Haruki Murakami book, Absolutely on Music. Aside from being one of Japan’s most respected writers, Murakami is also an absolute fanatic about classical music and recordings—and a long-time friend of Ozawa's. The book is a transcription of several extended interviews/conversations between the two recorded over the course of several years. Even if you’re not a classical music fan, Absolutely on Music is a wonderful read with a wealth of insights into conducting, classical music, writing, and so much more. Highly recommended. 

In a recent conversation with a student, I was asked how I would prepare for the Master’s tasting exam if I had to take it again. What strategies would I use to prepare for the exam? More importantly, what strategies would I use to practice confidence and deal with nerves on exam day? I promised the student I would put together a list of strategies I would employ in preparation for the exam. Following is that list.

Preamble: the MS tasting exam is the most remarkably difficult test I’ve ever taken--and passed. While two music degrees and seven years of college down the drain may have given me an edge with the theory and service exams, nothing prepared me for becoming a professional taster much less passing the exam.

If I had to do it all over again, I would train for the exam just as a professional golfer practices for a major tournament. Mind you, I’ve never played golf and have no intention of adding a source of immense frustration to my life at this point. However, golf is a perfect analogy to professional tasting and the exam because the game is comprised of multiple aspects that have to be practiced individually to achieve any overall competence and consistency.

Likewise, in preparing for the exam I would break down the tasting process into smaller chunks and work on each separately. I would focus on the concentration and confidence aspects separately from tasting. Finally, I would practice as many parts of the tasting process internally using imaging as possible. That’s because memory in the context of the tasting experience does not require having a glass of wine in hand.

Here is program of sorts for preparing for the exam. As everyone is wired differently, some strategies will be useful for certain students but not others. I certainly don’t expect anyone to adopt the entire program. Rather, read through the list and pick and choose strategies that will help the most. As for the strategies themselves, I’ve written about many of them previously and links are provided for more information.

The Obvious

• Get into a good tasting group and work with it regularly.
• Taste good wine. Don’t waste time tasting bottles that are outside the profiles for classic grapes and wines.
• Get occasional coaching from an M.S. in your market. There may not be an MS living near you much less someone that has the time to coach. In that case, you may need to travel and set up an appointment with one or several with Masters who can spend time with you. It also goes without saying that getting too many opinions is not useful or recommended. Everyone who passes the exam does so in his or her own unique way--which may or may not work for you. Above all, rely on your own skills and what works best for you.

General Strategies

Get a Coravin: I’m not being paid by Coravin. I’m just stating that it’s by far the most useful wine accessory in studying for the exam. A Coravin will save untold thousands of dollars on wine purchases and will also allow you to buy best examples of wines needed for tasting practice--and to use them repeatedly over a period of time. A Coravin can also be used in any number of ways to prepare for the exam. More on that below.

Memorize the grid: there are over 40 criteria on the deductive tasting grid. You have to know it cold to the extent of always knowing what’s next in the tasting sequence. To really commit the grid to long term memory, be able to explain it to a proverbial eight-year-old—or at least someone who’s not in the wine industry. If you can’t easily explain it to someone who’s not in wine then you really don’t know it.

Cause and effect: memorize cause and effect behind each criteria of the tasting grid. Be able to break down varietal, environmental, and winemaking causes as they apply to every line on the grid. As with basic memorization of the grid, be able to explain the concept of cause and effect to someone who’s not in the business.

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/cause-and-effect-the-why-behind-deductive-tasting
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Memorize common aromas and flavors: work on your memory of the 30 or so common aromas and flavors found in 80% of all wines. I call these the basic set. You can buy one of the pricey aroma kits, but it’s just as effective to work with the “real” aroma sources found in most grocery stores—and far less expensive.

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/paretos-palate

Write out personal varietal descriptions for classic grapes and wines. Include common aromas and flavors for each grape and focus on important impact compounds (see below) and structure levels (acidity, alcohol, and tannin). Here are varietal descriptions for many of the white and red grapes. Use them as a point of departure to create your own version.

White grapes and wines:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/classic-grape-variety-markers-white-grapes-part-i

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/classic-grape-variety-markers-white-grapes-and-wines-part-ii

Red grapes and wines:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/classic-grape-variety-markers-red-grapes-and-wines-part-i
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http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/classic-grapes-variety-markers-red-grapes-and-wines-part-ii

Internal Imaging and Sensory Experience

Use imaging to improve olfactory and palate memory. As mentioned previously, the tasting experience—like practically everything else we do—is visual internally. Work with internal images of your life memories of the common aromas/flavors above. You’ll find that you already “own” most of them.  

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/tasting-strategies-improving-olfactory-memory-and-sensitivity
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Submodalities: improve olfactory memory and sensitivity using internal imaging and submodalities. Find your driver submodalities that could include the size, distance, proximity, or brightness of your internal images. Consciously manipulating driver submodalities can profoundly affect your sensitivity to smell/taste memories.

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/submodalities-the-structure-of-thought-the-fabric-of-experience

Install needed smell/taste memories: find the “holes” in your smell memory (pyrazines, pepper, etc.) and “install” them using submodalities with your existing smell memory “template.”

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/drag-and-drop-installing-olfactory-memories

Fruit quality: work on memory of common fruits and non-fruits in regards to their age and condition. Internally compare memories/images of fresh fruit vs. dried fruit vs. stewed fruit. Do the same for various flowers, spices, and herbs. No surprise that imaging is key here.

Example: picture a rose and then gradually morph the image of it aging as your memory of what it smells like (even what it feels like to the touch) changes accordingly. Be able to work from either extreme to the other—old to young and young to old. Also connect fruit quality to uneven ripening grapes (Syrah, Zinfandel, etc.) as well as grapes/wines that show oxidation even when young (Sangiovese and Nebbiolo).

Impact compounds: other than accurately assessing structure, knowing the major impact compounds (terpenes, carbonic maceration, lees contact, etc.) and being able to detect them even in trace amounts is one of the most important ingredients for success with the grid and ultimately the exam. One also needs to connect these impact compounds to their causes in terms of respective grapes and wines.

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/tasting-strategies-interview-with-geoff-kruth-ms

Structural assessment: use an internal visual construct to be precise with structure. Install a simple scale or dial (or whatever works best for you), that provides a visual confirmation of the amount of acidity, alcohol, tannin, and length of finish being tasted/sensed in any given wine.

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/sight-unseen

Conclusions

Study theory! There's a great deal of theory involved in tasting, specifically when making a conclusion. Knowing various wine quality laws for Burgundy, Germany, Chianti Classico, Bordeaux and other regions and wines is key to being able to make a logical conclusion.

Use a decision matrix to help with conclusions: write out wine “maps” or short grids for each classic grape/wine that only show important impact compounds, fruit quality, and structure levels. Practice mentally rehearsing the information to come up with the “right” conclusion. Compare and contrast how similar grapes/wines are different.

Using the Coravin

Practice with the Evil Dwarves: semi-aromatic white grapes and thinner-skinned red grapes can be a nightmare for the student. I call them the “Evil Dwarves” because when poured next to each other, they can all look almost exactly the same and offer similar fruit qualities. However, the impact compounds and structure levels for each of the grapes is unique. To conquer the Evil Dwarves, use the Coravin to taste (and drink) them in pairs next to each other repetitively on a daily basis for as long as it takes to get clarity on them and avoid any confusion.  

Evil Dwarves – White Grapes:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/tasting-the-evil-dwarves-part-i

​Evil Dwarves – Red Grapes:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/tasting-the-evil-dwarves-part-ii

​Earth and oak recognition: use the Coravin to taste wine in pairs to help with the following important decisions that have to be made during the tasting process:

• Oak vs. no oak in white wines (and reds)
• Earth/mineral vs. no earth/mineral in both white and red wines
• Used oak vs. phenolic bitterness in white wines

Calibrate structure with extremes: use the Coravin to pair up wines with high vs. lower acidity, high vs. low alcohol, and high vs. low tannin for red wine. As you taste the wines, find “medium” for whatever structural assessment as quickly as possible. Expand that to medium-minus and medium-plus. Use your internal scale or dial to visual confirm what you’re tasting (see above).

Associative Rehearsal

As mentioned above, much of the tasting process that can be mentally rehearsed/practiced without actually tasting. Here are some recommendations.

The obvious: practice imaging/memory of common aromas and flavors daily. You can go through a list of several dozen in a few short minutes. As you go through your list, make the images large, bright, close in proximity, and in three dimensions. Here is where you can also play with fruit quality/age with most of the aromas.

Label check: install visual “label checks” for oak vs. no oak, earth vs. no earth (Old World vs. New World), and phenolic bitterness vs. used oak. Use large, bright images of labels of wines that are extreme examples of oak vs. no oak, earth vs. no earth, etc., to help make snap decisions.

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/tasting-strategies-label-check-and-calibrating-with-extremes

Practice rehearsing complete wines: every day talk through a flight of wines aloud using the grid. See, smell, taste, and ID wines in the flight as intensely as possible using your memories of best examples of classic grapes and wines. I advise mentally rehearsing wines five times as much as actually tasting.

Strategies for Focus and Confidence 

One of the major differences between how I prepared for the exam back in the day and how I would prepare now would be what I call “game day skills,” or strategies for focus and confidence. I’m convinced that the ability to bring immense focus to the exam and deal with the nerves and stress could be as much as 35% (or more) of one’s potential to pass regardless of the level of preparation.

Confidence is not something that comes easily for most. It can be very contextual in that being confident during tasting practice may not necessarily carry over to an exam. With that, here are several strategies for quickly going into a deeply focused state, dealing with nerves/fear, and installing and improving one’s level of confidence for tasting—and beyond.

Eye positions and consistency: finding one’s starting eye position when smelling (and tasting) wine is absolutely critical to consistency and success. Using the golf analogy again, it’s like lining up a golf shot--one has to have a routine or there will be no consistency in the results. Also, realize that consistency of a starting eye position is an important key for establishing a focused state of concentration, or one’s “zone.”

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/the-eyes-have-it

Finding your zone: use the two strategies I call “Overlapping” and “Clearing the Mechanism” to find your zone. Be able to trigger your zone instantly using an eye position. Practice going deep and completely disassociating in quick order. Be able to get there instantly and stay there.

​Once you fine-tune it, practice your “zone” by getting into it and listening to a song or other piece of music that’s at least three minutes long (if not longer), being completely absorbed into the music listening to it as closely as possible.

One more note on the zone: a common mistake students make is “projecting” things smelled and tasted in the wine, which inevitably leads to getting the conclusion completely wrong. Using your zone consistently will allow you to, for lack of a better way of putting it, be present to the wines vs. projecting on to them. It further allows the necessary curiosity and feeling of discovering what’s actually in the glass vs. making things up. Here are strategies for “Overlapping” and “Clearing the Mechanism.”

Overlapping:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/tasting-finding-your-zone-with-overlapping

Clearing the Mechanism:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/clearing-the-mechanism

Practice confidence! Use the “Circle of Excellence” and “Spin Dynamics” strategies to counteract fear and nervousness and to also trigger confidence when you go into your zone.

Circle of Excellence:

http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/game-day-skills-the-circle-of-excellence

Spin Dynamics:
​
http://www.timgaiser.com/blog/game-day-skills-part-one-the-dynamics-of-spin

Lots of travel in the last month with classes and exams in Portland, San Diego, and San Francisco. During that time, I observed the peaks and valleys of sommelier service. First, getting to watch good friends and fellow MS’ Alan Murray, Chris Miller, and Jeremiah Moorehead demonstrate service as part of the Intro Courses in Portland and San Diego. The three combine for many decades on the floor and watching them was an absolute pleasure. Their service mechanics, or hard skills so to speak, are flawless; a level that can only come with a great duration of time working the floor of world class restaurants. But their soft skills, or the way they physically move around a table serving and communicating with guests, were even more impressive.

At the other end of the spectrum was the service segment in three Certified Sommelier Examinations. In that portion of the exam, students are tested on service mechanics, Champagne service and tray service, along with their ability to answer various questions and make recommendations. As always, student performances were all over the map. More often than not, the make or break was previous experience working in a restaurant. For some, lack of restaurant experience resulted in struggling with basic service mechanics according to MS standards. Others demonstrated good service skills but struggled with answering questions and interacting with the “host,” or examiner at the table.

For many, talking to guests at the table is far from the easiest thing to do. I’ve observed experienced sommeliers in both exam and competition settings fumble for words as if speaking English was a newly acquired hobby. Granted, a lot of it is probably due to nerves. But lack of any comfort level with communicating with guests at the table—so-called soft skills--can be a huge challenge. How can a student—or a professional—acquire these skills that will help in creating a great hospitality experience for the guest? Here are some strategies that might help.

Soft Skills

Soft skills can be broken down into several facets: attitude, demeanor, psycho-geography, establishing rapport, and language patterns.

Attitude: attitude for the sommelier is about being in the role of a server and taking care of the guest. In that context, removing yourself from the equation is absolutely required--regardless of your level of experience. Ultimately, you as the sommelier are the most visible member of your service team and the goal is to set the standard of service for the entire team as well as to create a great hospitality experience for your guests—whether they order wine or not.

Demeanor: is about respect and adaptability; using your considerable knowledge of your entire beverage program to again provide a superlative hospitality experience for the guest--but without dumbing the information down or overwhelming the guest with factoids they simply don’t need to know.

Psycho-geography: literally, how we physically interact with our environment, more specifically other people in our environment. In terms of service, psycho-geography applies to how and where to stand in relation to guests at the table, as well as how to move around the table when serving. Here are points to consider:

• Pay attention to how guests respond to your physical presence at the table in the form of head and eye movements.
• If you’re too close to the table, their heads will tilt slightly (or more) up and back. The pupils of their eyes will also dilate. Not good.
• If you’re not close enough to the table or they can’t hear you, they’ll lean in with their head forward. That’s your cue to move a bit closer to the table. A bit closer.
• When placing or removing glassware, avoid reaching across a guest’s space. When serving, also be mindful of where your tray is positioned in relation to guests (as in their head) at the table.
• Sensory acuity: pay attention! Adjust instantly if what you’re doing isn’t working and making the guest uncomfortable.

Side out: this is important. Be aware of where you’re standing when talking to a guest at the table. Avoid standing directly in front of someone you’re speaking to. If at all possible, stand slightly to the side. Why? Because if you’re using effective language, the person you’re speaking to will be making images in their head in response to what you’re saying. If you’re directly in front of them, you will be standing, in a manner of speaking, right in the middle of their internal IMAX Theater. Standing just to the side also helps in establishing rapport with the guest. More on that in a moment.

Step back: when opening a bottle—especially a bottle of sparkling wine, it’s imperative to take a step back from the table for the sake of safety.
​
Establishing rapport: can be defined as quickly making a connection with someone. In regards to being a sommelier, it means matching the pace, volume, and even tonality of the person with whom you’re speaking.
​
I once heard it said that a person tends to speak at the same rate as they think. If that’s true, it’s even more important to match the pace of someone’s speech. Mind you, this could be a challenge. Most restaurants are incredibly noisy and it’s difficult to be heard over the din. But with a bit of practice, it can become second nature and a valuable communication tool.  

Useful Language Patterns

Language matters. It’s not only what you say to someone at the table, it’s how you say it. Successful communication with a guest presupposes you’ve established some sort of rapport with them and then can easily, as in conversationally, ask the right questions to find out their wine likes, dislikes, and other important information--all as elegantly as possible. Active listening on your part is a given. From there, it’s about suggesting and selling the most appropriate wines/beverages. Here are several quick language strategies to help do just that.

Matching Sensory Language

Sounds complicated, but it’s quite simple. People will tend to represent their dominant internal sense or representational system in casual conversation. By that, I mean visual, auditory, or kinesthetic. Most people—as in over 90% of the human race--are visually dominant internally in that they think in pictures and movies. No surprise that in conversation they tend to use words and phrases that are visual. For example:

“That looks good to me.”
“I see what you’re saying.”

If auditory tends to be dominant internally for someone, they might say:

“I hear what you’re mean.”
“That sounds OK to me.”

Finally, if a person tends towards kinesthetics and feelings, they might say things such as:

“That doesn’t feel right to me.”  
“Feels like the way to go.”

Know that any preference for these sensory predicates changes with different contexts. Why the fuss? Because matching sensory language is one of the quickest ways of establishing rapport with anyone. That means you as the sommelier need to pay attention and match your guests’ sensory language as much as you can—but without being overly obvious which will quickly land you in the creepy bus driver file. The opposite, as in responding to a visual statement with an auditory remark, can be jarring to a guest. Mismatch someone’s language consistently even for even a short period of time and you risk losing whatever rapport—and credibility--you’ve established.

No Buts!

When speaking to guests at the table (or anyone for that matter), avoid using the word “but” as a conjunction in your response to whatever was just said. If you respond to a guest saying, “yes, but…” you are, in fact, negating everything they just told you. Instead, use the word “and” between repeating (not parroting) what the guest said and your response to them. It takes practice, but using "and" instead of “but” in your conversational responses is a subtle but very effective strategy.

Modal Operators of Possibility vs. Necessity

Another linguistic term that sounds complicated but is actually straightforward. Modal operators can be defined as “modes of operation.” These operators are words that categorize different kinds of action. There are four categories: desire, possibility, necessity, and choice. These modes/words are important in every day communication but largely go unnoticed because they are very subtle. Two of the modes—possibility and necessity—come into play in the context of a sommelier at the table speaking to guests, especially when it comes to making recommendations and selling.

Whenever we communicate with someone, a choice is linguistically implied–or not. Modal operators of necessity such as “got to,” “have to,” and “must,” all imply pressure, obligation, and no choice. By contrast, modal operators of possibility including the words “possibly,” “can,” “might,” and “would,” imply options, opportunities, and choice for the other party. And with options and choices comes a comfort level for the host who might feel be feeling the pressure of having to choose wine for everyone at the table. Here is a list of some modal operators of possibility vs. necessity:

• Possible vs. Impossible
• Can vs. Can’t
• Will vs. Won’t
• May vs. May not
• Might vs. Might not
• Would vs. Should
• Choose to  vs. Choose not to

Here are examples of things that might be said to a guest at the table in the context of modal operators of necessity (MON) vs. modal operators of possibility (MOP). Note that the previous sentence actually includes a modal operator of possibility. Imagine that.

MON: “This is a great wine. You have to try it.”
MOP: “I tasted this wine recently and I think you might really like it.”
 
MON: "Given what you’ve told me, this wine works best.”
MOP: “Given what you’ve told me, I think this wine would work really well. Would you like to try it?”
 
MON: “This sparkling wine will go well with all the dishes that have been ordered.”
MOP: “This sparkling wine might go really well with everything you’ve ordered.”
 
MON: “This wine needs time to open up.”
MOP: “I think you’ll find that with a few minutes in the glass, the wine will open up and be softer.”

Coda

As mentioned above, mastering soft skills comes with repetition and a duration of time spent working the floor. There are many things to consider and I suggest working with one or two of the ideas at a time. Trying to incorporate everything at once would be difficult and confusing. Making small changes over a period of time seems to work best. 
​
Prost!

One of my earliest experiences with aging a bottle of wine took place many moons ago. A time when, as Austin Powers once said, life was all about a flock of seagulls and a gas shortage. Carla and I had just announced our engagement to my parents. I secretly knew that at the top of their bedroom closet was a bottle of Champagne. Not some cheap, lame sparkling wine, but a bottle of real Champagne. It was, in fact, a bottle of Moët White Star. For years, I had plotted to come up with a reason to convince my Mom and Dad, both seasoned bourbon veterans, to open the bottle so I could experience my first taste of real Champagne.
 
Our nuptial announcement did the trick. “Let’s open that bottle at the top of the closet,” my Mom said. In no time, I quickly moved several bedspreads at the top of the closet that were “protecting” the bottle and whisked it off to the kitchen and into the freezer. A long 20 minutes later and I placed the bottle on the counter, took off the foil and wire cage (no snide remarks, please), and went for the cork—which immediately broke into two pieces with the bottom remnant unceremoniously dropping into the bottle. Momentarily shocked but undaunted, I pressed on and poured a small amount of “bubbly” into a bulky etched wine glass. The wine was brown, flat, and dead a proverbial doornail. My heart sank and with it, visions of vinous bliss.
 
Let’s recap: at some point in the past, a friend had given my parents the bottle of White Star. With no means—and less knowledge—of how to properly store a bottle of wine they did what most people in a similar situation would do; they stuck it in the closet. In this case, they tucked it snuggly into bedspreads at the top of the closet, the warmest place in the bedroom other than directly next to the heater vent. Combine that with the arid desert climate of Albuquerque and you have an inner circle of hell to store a bottle of wine. No mystery that the bottle of White Star died a quiet death long before its day of reckoning.
 
Fast forward. In a recent chat with friend and colleague, Ken Schroeder, the topic of aging wine came up. I’ve worked with Ken over the last few years on a smart phone wine web-app he developed called, “BottleCru.” BottleCru classifies grape varieties and varietal wines by style, making it far easier for consumers to understand wine. The BottleCru app (www.bottlecruapp.com) also includes a very detailed food and wine pairing database including cheeses and more, all driven by those wine styles. During our call, Ken must have asked at least a dozen questions about aging wine; questions that consumers often ask but rarely get good answers. At the end of the call, I asked Ken to put together a list of questions about aging wine. In short order, he sent his list and I added several more questions to it. Here’s the list with my answers. Be forewarned that that many answers are far from absolute and are simply guidelines. Think pirates. 

Aging Wine FAQ
 
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 their evolution quickly within a year or two. 
 
Which 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 between a great wine experience vs. a great wine. Both are relevant—and equally important.
 
One more note: good wine is good wine regardless of age. One can easily make a strong argument that a great age-worthy wine like a Grand Cru Burgundy only gets better with time. But it was also good to begin with and the wine’s inherent quality is a vital part of its potential to age.
 
Do dry or sweet wines age better?
 
Historically, very sweet dessert wines age the longest, in some cases for well over a century. The best dry red wines are also capable of aging for decades. Note that in every instance where a bottle has aged for an extended period of time, it has been kept, undisturbed, in a very cold cellar.
 
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.

Do wines with oak age longer?
 
Not necessarily. There are plenty of unoaked dessert wines that age for decades. Sweet Rieslings, Chenin Blancs, and Muscats of various kinds come to mind.
 
Can you tell by looking at a wine if it's aged?
 
It depends on what is meant by “aged.” For the sake of convenience, let’s assume the wine is older than ten years. If that’s the case, then the answer is definitely yes. A white wine will have a deeper color due to oxidation from time in bottle. A red wine will show more garnet, or reddish-brown, in the color for the same reason. The older red will also show more rim variation, the difference in color between wine at the core of the glass vs. the edge of the glass. The color at the edge of the glass will also be more evolved as well in the form of garnet, orange, or even brown.
 
Do bouquets or tastes age first?
 
One really can’t separate “bouquet” from “taste” in wine. Both are the result of the chemical makeup of the wine and thus interdependent.
 
What’s the stuff on the inside of the bottle?
 
In red wine, the “stuff” is sediment, the pigments (color) and tannins that have precipitated out of the wine over time. Sediment is the reason why older red wine has to be decanted. Note that “stuff” can appear in white wine as well. Usually sediment in white wine is tartrates, or tartaric acid crystals, a natural component of every wine. Most winemakers choose to cold stabilize, or chill their white and blush wines before bottling to removed excess tartrates and thus avoid confusing or even consternating their customers. Perish the thought!

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 Target 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 be an important clue. Less money equals a wine that’s intended to be enjoyed near term and not aged.
2. Storage conditions: do you have a place with the right conditions to store wine long term? If not, all bets are off. Open the 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!

 
Do closures affect the aging of a wine?
 
The quick answer is yes--but there’s a lot to it. Suffice to say that until recently, it was commonly thought that wine in a bottle was in an anaerobic environment, that is to say an environment devoid of oxygen. However, in a 2005 study at the University of Bordeaux, Dr. Paulo Lopes used carmine indigo testing to prove that trace amounts of oxygen are introduced into wine at the time of bottling. The amount of oxygen added to the wine, or oxygen ingress as it’s called, depends on the type of closure used to seal the bottle. Aside from sealed laboratory glass-on-glass bottles, screwcaps add the least oxygen with traditional corks adding more. Many side-by-side studies with screwcaps vs. corks and aging have been conducted since. The results of most studies show that wine under screwcap appears to age more slowly than wine bottled under natural cork. However, we still don’t know everything that happens in a bottle of wine as it ages regardless of the type of closure. Research will go on—and probably for a very long time.
 
People pay more for aged wines. Why? Is it worth it?
 
Older wines are more expensive because the party that has owns the wine has spent monies on the bottle itself as well as the time and space to store it properly. The bottle may also have been purchased at auction for a higher price. These costs are passed along to you, the consumer. As for the question of whether the high cost of an older wine is worth it, that depends entirely on you, the occasion, and your budget.
 
How do I know which wines will age well?
 
The easy answer is to do a bit of online research with vintage charts. Several are available gratis and you’ll be able to discover which general categories of wine age well. Beyond that, know that wine, vintages, and the potential to age are a series of moving targets. It is far from exact science. Take vintage charts with a grain of salt and use them as guidelines. More below.
 
Should I trust the vintage charts I see in magazines?
 
The answer is yes—but with a caveat. As just mentioned, predicting a wine’s future is never exact science. However, if you are going to seek advice on the prospect of a certain wine (or certain vintage) aging well, get the opinions of top tier professionals who are specialists in the specific kind of wine in question. Go deeper than ballpark predictions, even from mainstream wine publications. 
 
If there a point where you can age a wine too long?
 
Yes! Keeping a bottle for too long is a common mistake even made by savvy wine veterans. If you own multiple bottles of the same wine, the temptation when you open one and find it drinking well is to wait to open another bottle thinking that the wine will only get better with a bit more time. More often than not, the wine in your glass is at its peak and will not get better. A good rule to follow is if you open one of several bottles of the same wine and find it drinking well, don’t wait too long to check on another bottle. You may find that second bottle starting to fade or even past its prime.
 
Are there any quick fixes to aging? Is there some kind of compensation that can be used in place of aging wine to get the same qualities?  
 
Are there quick fixes to patience and waiting for wine to age in the cellar? I guess you could put a bottle in the trunk of your car on a hot July day and drive around for a bit. The motion and hot temperature would quickly work their magic and prematurely age/oxidize/Madeirize the wine. We call this, “trunk aging.” All kidding aside, there is no replacement for the natural aging process. If you really like a specific wine, buy 6 or 12 bottles and follow it over time. That’s the reason for having a cellar.
 
Do dumb-periods exist?
 
Yes, so-called “dumb periods,” or the phase where the nose and palate of a wine are not as vibrant as they were when the wine was first released, do indeed exist. And we’re not really sure why. Suffice to say that after evolving past youthful qualities, certain wines move into a phase where they don’t smell or taste as good as they did previously. However, at some future point the wine evolves into a state of maturity, hopefully with layers of complex aromas and flavors. Once again, this is far from exact science. Needless to say, wines capable of long-term aging are usually the ones that go through a dumb phase. A wine with a short shelf life—think White Zinfandel—isn’t around long enough to suffer such a fate. 
 
Does bottle shock exist?
 
Yes it does. I’m sure many reading this post have experienced the disappointment of traveling with wine only to arrive at the destination, open a bottle that night for dinner, and have the wine fall flat and disappoint. If you stop and think about it for a moment, it makes perfect sense. Wine is a living thing and subjecting it to drastic changes in pressure, altitude, and temperature dramatically affect how it will show if opened too soon after arrival. It’s best to always give the bottle a day or two to settle in after the rigors of the journey. Perhaps we should follow the same advice. 

What about dropping pennies into a glass of wine?
 
Dropping a penny into a glass of wine—as in putting the wine into contact with copper—can help clear up sulfur compounds on the nose of a wine. Make sure the penny is clean--and remember to remove it from the glass after 30-60 seconds.
 
What about those aeration units?
 
Pouring red wine through an aeration unit adds air into the wine, changing its texture as well as how your palate responds to the tannins. It makes the wine taste smoother, like photoshopping, so to speak. If that’s your thing, fine. But you could also accomplish the same thing by…wait for it…decanting the wine. Or double decanting the wine. Either will accomplish the same goal of putting air into the wine. Decanting, what a concept. More on that below.
 
Some practical advice: if you are obsessed with drinking red wine in a restaurant that is smooth, for lack of a better term, choose an appropriate wine or select the right dish that has enough protein and fat to take the edge off the tannins. But don’t expect the current release of Gaja Sori Tilden to have the same quality of tannins and texture as a bottle of Marcel Lapierre Morgon. That is beyond ludicrous. Finally, don’t bring one of the aeration units into a restaurant and expect the sommelier or server to use it on whatever bottle you order. That, too, is beyond ludicrous.
 
What about decanting? I’ve heard that white wines don’t benefit from decanting.
 
Before answering this question, it would be useful to offer all the reasons why one could decant a bottle of wine in the first place:

1. To separate an older red wine from the sediment.
2. To aerate a bottle of young white or red wine or a bottle with noticeable SO2 (see below).
3. To raise the temperature of a bottle that’s just been retrieved from a cold cellar.
4. For the theater of it all.

 
With that, the answer to the above statement is not true—and for the second reason. Historically, some white wines with a track record of long-term aging have more than the usual amount of SO2 (sulfur dioxide) added before bottling. On opening one of these bottles, the wine may show SO2 on the nose. Decanting will help the sulfur “blow off” or dissipate.
 
Are there red wines that don’t benefit with decanting? If so, which ones?
 
The only answer I can think of is if the wine in question is so old that decanting the bottle would reduce the window of drinkability to a very short period of time. Otherwise, decant away!
 
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 on the subject of wine and aging: 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 exception to this rule is if the wine in hand is the only bottle you own of a something very rare and/or expensive. 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. Cheers!

Science tells us that olfactory creates our most powerful sense memories. This is because smell is the only one of the five senses that travels directly to the forebrain without first going to the thalamus to be processed by the rest of the brain. Instead, olfactory signals travel directly to very specific parts of the temporal lobe. Add to that the fact that the olfactory bulb is part of the brain’s limbic system which is closely associated with memory.

Given the right context, any number of different smells can create a profound life memory. And there is perhaps no more powerful and profound smell than essential oils. If not familiar, essential oils are derived from naturally occurring volatile aromatic compounds found in the seeds, bark, stems, roots, flowers, and other parts of plants and trees. The essential oils processed from these aromatic compounds have long been used in a number of ways including food preparation, beauty treatment, and therapeutic practices. I’ve personally known about essential oils for many years because Carla, my wife, uses them regularly.
​
Last month I was teaching an MS Introductory Course in Southern California with good friend and fellow Master Sommelier, Laura Williamson. Laura is currently based in Carlsbad, California. Over the last two decades-plus, she’s had a remarkable career in practically every facet of the wine industry; from retail to owning a tasting bar and restaurant to managing two major import companies to running wine programs at several of New York’s top restaurants. Laura is also very much into essential oils. During a conversation, she mentioned having used the oils regularly for over 20 years. I was curious to learn if her experiences with the oils were the same as for wine. If not, how were they different? To learn more, I followed up our initial conversation with an extended phone interview. Here’s an encapsulation of that call. 

TG: How long have you used essential oils?

LW: I began dabbling in essential oils in 1995, so for over 20 years.

TG: As a Master Sommelier and wine professional, is there any parallel you can draw between your experiences with the oils vs. wine.

LW: I think the two experiences are completely different. For me, essential oils are so much more 3D compared to wine.

TG: When you say 3D, what does that mean?

LW: With smelling essential oils, when I close my eyes there’s a huge, empowering energy that is deep in a way that can’t be found in wine.

TG: Why do you think that is?

LW: That’s a great question. First, I think not all oils offer the same experience. Different proprietors (producers) of oils have different quality calibers that they follow to meet their business prototypes. The oils I use are very pure in terms of the distillation process, so there’s no harm to any of the beneficial constituents gained from the oil. There’s an intense power from the oils because of the way they’re handled and the fact that the standards of production are so high.

TG: Getting back to what you said a moment ago; you mentioned that your experience of essential oils is 3D. Does that mean that wine is 2D for you? It sounds like when you use essential oils, it’s a very deep internal experience. Is your experience of wine considerably different?

LW: Yes, because these oils are a direct extension from a plant. When I say a direct extension, it means a connection where the essence or focal point of the oil has been curated and processed at its peak, or moment of exaltation. I think this “capture,” so to speak, comes across in a more intense way than with wine.

TG: How do you use the oils?
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LW: I began using oils primarily in blends for additions to baths. But there are many other ways to use them. Using some of the citrus or floral oils can add lift and dimension to cocktails. As well, adding a drop of one of the more savory oils like basil, rosemary, juniper, or oregano can put a final touch or very important shift to a dish. A little goes a long way because the oils are so much more intense than dried or fresh herbs. However, if you don’t have fresh basil, you can just add one drop of a good pure, food-grade basil oil.
All the oils I use are food-grade so they can be used externally or internally. There are other oils that you would never take internally. 

TG: Let’s talk about some of your favorite oils.

LW: Geranium oil comes to mind. There’s floral aspects to geranium as well as cleansing and spice aspects. I have some right here and when I smell it, it’s like pure happiness and joy. It’s all about positivity in an intense, almost overwhelming way; like falling into the largest pile of rose petals.

TG: How would you use geranium oil?

LW: I would never use geranium oil on its own. Instead, I use it externally in blends for the bath. I would combine it with other oils such as lavender, bergamot, grapefruit, Ylang-Ylang, and possibly Petitgrain. For the purposes of a bath, a blend like that would be effective for refreshing or reconnecting to the feminine center. All the oils I mentioned are very feminine and uplifting in their energy.

The reason why I love these oils so much is that any time you take the top off a bottle and smell the oil, the essence goes directly into your brain and resets your thought pattern in a such great way.

TG: It seems like for you there’s an almost immediate emotional reaction to smelling one of the oils. True?

LW: Absolutely.

TG: We don’t necessarily get the same thing from wine.

LW: No, not at all.

TG: Do you think it has to do with the purity and intensity of the oils? That these oils are like powerful single notes, so to speak?

LW: I think it’s exactly that.

TG: Pick another favorite.

LW: I’ll pick Neroli. I have a small empty bottle here that I’ve had for about ten years. I’m smelling the bottle now, and it’s like an orange blossom at exaltation. It reminds me of blossoms in the dessert that have the sweetest smell at night because the sun has gone down and there’s a little moisture in the air. The oils are thicker in the air then and you can feel it. Beyond that, it’s like the feeling of cleansing and calming simultaneously; like the purest, cleansed mentality. Those are the thoughts that come to mind.

TG: How do you use Neroli?

LW: I love this particular oil so much that I put it directly on my skin. I use one drop and rub it on the inside of my wrists. You can do the same with all the floral oils. Neroli helps calm the nervous system. It also has an ease about it, a purity. I didn’t mention this before, but there’s also a fresh greenness to it as well, like fresh-cut leaves from flowers. It’s like a dandelion stem that smells really fresh and green when you first cut it. But the prettiness in the oil from the blossoms of the orange gives it a calming and grounding effect.

TG: I’m curious; when you think about this oil, if you close your eyes do you see colors or shapes?

LW: No, not at all. But when I smell this oil I remember living in Tucson with the orange trees in blossom and walking outside at night in the warm spring air. You can feel warmth in the wind and smell the oil wafting in the air; it feels very safe in a kind of supported way. 

TG: What about another favorite oil?

LW: Let’s go to Vetiver. Vetiver is heavy, woodsy, and resiny. The smell reminds me of being in the mountains on a cold fall night after it rains. The bark on all the pine trees is so saturated with moisture that you can smell the soil—the earth--along with a medicinal quality from the bark itself. It’s a combination of earthy, resiny, wet, and medicinal smells.

Vetiver really grounds you. It’s almost like putting a cement block on top of your head (in the best possible way!) in that wherever you are, it feels like you’re not grounded and not going anywhere.

TG: How do you use Vetiver?

LW: Sometimes I use a drop or two in a bath combined with other relaxing and muscle-relieving oils like rosemary, juniper, and basil. The combination makes me feel a connection to the earth. Sometimes I’ll use a drop on the top of my head and rub it into my scalp. It really helps me focus and it grounds me when I’m really busy and doing a million things.

TG: How about another favorite oil; something floral like rose?

LW: Definitely; I have a bottle here called, “Pure Rose,” that’s basically Bulgarian rose. It has the highest frequency of any of the essential oils tested.

TG: When you say frequency, what does that mean?

LW: It means the moment you inhale the oil, your brain reacts instantaneously to it. You don’t have to put it on your skin or do anything else with it. Pure Rose is the most potent oil as far as connecting with your brain. Many studies have been done about oils and how our brains responds to them. When I smell Pure Rose, there’s a complete lift and feelings of freedom, flow, and expansion, and all in a very coddling, peaceful, and graceful manner. It’s like opening a door and everything that should be there is allowed to come in—without anything negative.

TG: The smell of an heirloom rose is my absolute favorite. For me, it’s beauty personified in smell.

LW: Completely agree; it’s extraordinary. The smell of Pure Rose is also very sensual in a peaceful way, and open and accessible in a non-judgmental way. It’s all that translated into one aroma. It’s very powerful.

TG: How do you use Pure Rose oil?

LW: I use it to make an all-natural balm I make with beeswax. I use only a drop in the balm and rub a bit on my arms to disperse it. The balm anchors the aroma and lets the intensity escalate but not get lost on your skin. I’ll also add drops of Pure Rose to a blend of oils that I apply to my face because of its repairing and rejuvenating properties.

TG: How about another oil that’s completely different?

LW: Let’s talk about Clary Sage. When I smell Clary Sage, it’s like a very powerful alignment; there’s a crystalline clarity to dreams, visions, or aspiration that I might have. For me, Clary Sage oil aligns, encourages, and reminds.

TG: What does it smell like?

LW: Clary Sage reminds me of damp woods and wet leaves mixed with fresh linden—almost like a cleansing solution. Think about when you smell Pine Sol and how that powerful pine aroma renders everything sterile. Clary Sage is similar but notched back quite a bit. It has woods, linden, and floral aspects along with earth and wet stone.

Right now, I’m looking at information on Clary Sage in a book I have, and it says the oil is used an anti-oxidant and anti-diabetic, anti-fungal, anti-spasmodic, and relaxant. It’s also used for insomnia, menstrual problems, circulatory problems, and more. It’s very calming and stress relieving.

TG: I’ve googled Clary Sage just now and it has quite an ancient history. It also lists all the properties you just mentioned and many more.

LW: It’s one of my favorites. I do think it’s an empowering oil for women. There’s such a beautiful balance about it.

TG: Let’s pick one more oil to finish up.

LW: I’m going to give you Blue Tansy. It originates from Morocco and has an azure blue color to it. It’s known for beneficially influencing the nervous system. The moment I smell it, it’s incredibly pretty, sweet, and demure. It’s like a pristine mountain place filled with flowers that’s completely untouched. It’s a really different experience from Pure Rose, which seems to go straight to the brain and rebalances you. Blue Tansy is coddling and supportive, like a cashmere blanket around you with the softest flowers underneath you.

TG: What’s interesting to me is how your responses to the oils are complex, layered experiences that are far beyond the experience of wine.

LW: Absolutely, and the fact that these oils also have healing properties. If I could have another career, I would love to dive into essential oils and help others try to experience the power in these oils to help balance what they’re going through in life.

TG: Does your experience with the oils teach you to be present and focused in a way that helps with smelling and tasting wine?

LW: Completely and on a very deep level. Along with yoga, the oils have helped me to be present and confident when analyzing wine in blind tasting. My experience with oils also teaches me to be more confident, open, and ready to literally feel a wine--in a way let it speak to me. Instead of trying to decipher a wine, I try to be present with it and connect with it in an energy sort of way.

TG: If anything, working with the oils might help you focus on scent while bringing other sensory modalities into the experience.

LW: I agree with that completely.
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TG: Laura, thanks so much for your time. I definitely plan to check out the oils you’ve described and to read a bit about them. Cheers!