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?
​
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!

​December is upon us and with it, the rocky calendar of the year is careening to a halt. Thank the gods for that. Calendar 2017 brought huge changes for the Peña-Gaiser clan. After 32 years in San Francisco, we returned home to New Mexico to be near family and to also enjoy a more than slightly reduced cost of living. Needless to say, the move has been a monumental change for the three of us and we’re still trying to find our respective grooves. With that, in keeping with holiday posts from the last several years, I’ve assembled a list of potential holiday gifts for friends, family, and erstwhile conspirators. All are guaranteed to please. As I’ve mentioned many times before, it’s imperative that you give yourself something nice for the holidays. After all, how can you possibly expect anyone to have a clue as to what you really want? Know that I’ve already taken my own advice—and it’s listed below.  

*Disclaimer: rumors aside, the photograph above is not of my new living room. Alas. 

Wildwood Spirits Co.
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Before getting started, pour yourself a stiff drink. A Negroni or Martini is the appropriate prescription for the holiday chaos--and there’s no better gin or vodka than from Erik Liedholm’s Wildwood Spirits. Liedholm, an advanced sommelier based in the Seattle area, is the corporate wine director for John Howie restaurants in Bellevue. He’s also the mind behind the Wildwood Spirits Co., producing outstanding spirits from local ingredients—a farm-to-still concept, if you will.
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Several years ago Erik literally had 15,000 pounds of Washington wheat, gin apples, and Douglas fir shipped from Ballard back to Michigan State University, his alma mater, to gain needed knowledge and experience. There he worked with Master Distiller Kris Burlund to learn the art and craft of distillation.

Today Liedholm produces two bottlings at Wildwood; a vodka called Stark Vatten (Swedish for “strong water”) made from Washington heirloom variety red winter wheat and pure, filtered water; and Kur gin with notes of classic juniper, citrus, Douglas fir, and Braeburn apples. Kur has quickly become my new favorite gin. I compare it to the Rieslings of Dr. F. Weins-Prüm in the Mosel; effusively perfumed, elegant, and subtly textured. It makes a sublime Martini or adds a floral lift and shimmering texture to a Negroni. 

The Holiday Book Bag

The Art of Movement; NYC Dance Project, by Ken Browar and Deborah Ory  

​This is my favorite book of the year. I wrote about Ken Browar and Deborah Ory in a recent post. Their NYC Dance Project features stunning photographs of the world’s top dancers. Every time I open the book, I’m awestruck at the beauty and athleticism of these great dancers not to mention the amazing photography. I also feel a profound appreciation for the years—even decades--of long, intense training that goes into the career of a professional dancer. I often tell people that there is no way to “hack” being a professional taster. Add professional dancing to that list. Highly recommended. 

Artemis, by Andy Weir

​I read Andy Weir’s The Martian in almost ​one sitting a couple of years ago. Weir's new novel, Artemis, is easily as good as his previous effort. The book is set on the moon years into the future after a permanent base has been established. Like The Martian, Weir formats Artemis into shorter chapters that move at a fast clip. The dialogue is witty and profane, the predicaments improbable, and the characters complex if not flawed. A perfect airplane book.

A Really Big Lunch: the Roving Gourmand on Food and Life, by Jim Harrison

Last year novelist Jim Harrison passed away at the age of 76. Harrison was Rabelais incarnate, possessing an enormous appetite for food, drink, hunting, fishing, and the outdoors. I first came across his work years ago in the form of short missives written for Kermit Lynch mailers. A Really Big Lunch is a collection of essays on food and drink that includes some of the Lynch snippets. Of special note is the chapter offering a detailed account of a lunch in France that featured 37 courses over 11 hours. In another chapter, Harrison bemoans his frequent attacks of gout, visits to doctors, and having to cut back from two bottles of red wine a day to just one. Ah, the pity. Curiously, white wine wasn’t serious wine to Harrison. A bottle of white was something to casually share with a mate in a boat while out fishing on quiet waters. Red wine was true wine and none better than Bandol of which two bottles seemed to be Harrison’s required daily ration. Reading A Really Big Lunch is to marvel at Harrison’s intellect and wit with outrageously funny quips pinging here and there throughout like a pinball machine on tilt. 

Tribe of Mentors: Short Life Advice from the Best in the World, by Timothy Ferriss

Uber podcaster and blogger Tim Ferriss is back with another great book that gets a holiday recommendation. Faced with a personal/work catharsis this past year, Ferriss reached out for life advice from dozens of people who have been subjects of his podcast; literally the who’s who of finance, fitness, and practically every other walk of life. He posed 11 questions to them including the following: 

1. What is the book (or books) you’ve given most as a gift, and why? Or what are one to three books that have greatly influenced your life?
2. What purchase of $100 or less has most positively impacted your life in the last six months?
3. How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success? Do you have a “favorite” failure? (this is my favorite)
4. What is the best, most worthwhile investment you’ve ever made?
5. What advice would you give to a smart, driven college student about to enter the “real world.” What advice should they ignore?

Most responded and some that did took the time to write thoughtful and wisdom-filled advice. Tribe of Mentors also contains hundreds of quotes from a wide range of sources. One of my favorites appears in the first few pages: “Pain is never out of season if you go shopping for it.” As with all other Ferriss books, this is a really good read. 

The Inner Voice: The Making of a Singer, by Renée Fleming

Renée Fleming is one of the top operatic sopranos of the last 25-plus years. After reading her book, The Inner Voice, I’ll double down on my comment above about not being able to “hack” certain professions. Hacking opera singing at the highest level is frankly impossible because of the learning curve, inherent complexity, and required duration of time and experience--not to mention having a great voice and brilliant musicality.

In The Inner Voice, Fleming details her storied career from early experiences singing in church choirs and high school musicals to performing on the world’s top operatic stages with the greatest conductors and singers. The book is beautifully written and I highly recommend it to anyone taking the Master’s exam. Why? Because it’s often said that the exam is the most monumentally difficult thing in the world. After reading The Inner Voice, I’ve decided that’s far from true. In reading the book, one quickly discovers that establishing and maintaining a career as a top opera singer is far more difficult than any sommelier exam or competition could ever be.

The Art of Flavor: Practices and Principles for Creating Delicious Food, by Daniel Patterson and Mandy Aftel

Daniel Patterson of San Francisco restaurants Coi and Alta needs no introduction in the echelon of top American chefs. Berkeley-based Mandy Aftel* is one of the world’s top perfumers, known for her layered, beautifully complex scents crafted from all natural ingredients. Combine their extraordinary talents and you have the makings of a unique book—and a great read. The Art of Flavor is part cookbook, part alchemy. It breaks down the major aromatic and flavor components in food with cultural and historical backgrounds, all with the intent of explaining why the best combinations work. To read The Art of Flavor is to gain delicious insight into how the best recipes are constructed—and why they work so well.

*More from Mandy Aftel below

​The Genius of Birds, by Jennifer Ackerman

​In The Genius of Birds, Jennifer Ackerman travels the globe and documents how certain birds rival primates and even humans in their intelligence and problem solving capabilities. I marveled at learning how the New Caledonia Crow—at the top of the Corvid family—can create “tools” on the fly (pun intended) in order to solve a complex, multi-stage problem to gain access to a food source. 

Norse Mythology, by Neil Gaiman

No other top fiction writer of our time has drawn upon the power of ancient myth more than Neil Gaiman. In Norse Mythology, Gaiman reworks the timeless stories of Odin, Loki, and more with his usual polished storytelling and charm. And who knew that there was a Viking ship made from fingernails and toenails taken from the dead? I read Gaiman’s book in two quick sittings—and then immediately read it again. Highly recommended.

The Simple Beauty of the Unexpected: A Natural Philosopher’s Quest for Trout and the Meaning of Everything, by Marcello Gleiser
 
Brazilian-born Marcelo Gleiser is a world-renowned theoretical physicist and professor of physics and astronomy at Dartmouth College. He’s written and published over 100 scientific papers and 5 popular science books that have been translated into over 15 languages. He’s also the co-founder of the Science and Culture blog 13.7, hosted by NPR. Gleiser is endlessly fascinated with the big questions of existence: the universe, matter, life—and fly-fishing. A Simple Beauty of the Unexpected is part popular science, part memoir. In it pages Gleiser uses fly-fishing to, as he puts it, “find a conduit to the outer world of natural phenomena and the inner world of the self.” Simple Beauty is well-written, thought provoking, and a fun read. 

Aftelier Perfumes
 
As mentioned above, Mandy Aftel is one of the world’s top perfumers, crafting scents from all natural ingredients. Aftel’s website (https://www.aftelier.com) contains a trove of information on scent as well a current listing of over 20 perfumes she personally created. The perfumes range in style from Soliflore (single flower) to Oriental to Woods and more. Each perfume can be purchased in various quantities including tiny .25 ml samples. These tiny vials served as inspiration for this year’s Christmas gift for my wife Carla, who is a fan and devotee of perfumes and essential oils. Recently I ordered samples of a dozen different Aftel perfumes with the idea of having her try them over a period of time and then choosing a favorite.

The first six samples arrived last week. As Carla and I went through them, my reaction to each was a simple and hushed “wow.” Like great wines—especially Rieslings and Burgundies--each of the perfumes, though utterly different in character, impressed with its purity and complexity. Equally as impressive was Aftel’s deft blending of seemingly unrelated aromatics to create contrast and a top-middle-bottom balance in each perfume (think floral, fruit, and truffle-earth notes in a White Burgundy or Rheingau Grosses Gewächs Riesling). The list of Aftel perfumes with thoughtfully written descriptions for each can be found at the following page:
 
https://www.aftelier.com/Articles.asp?ID=252

Audioengine B2 Wireless Speaker
 
I own two pairs of Audioengine speakers. In fact, I'm listening to a pair of the larger desktop A5+’s as I write this. But I’d always wanted a good wireless speaker for the living room/dining room as playing tunes during cocktail hour and dinner is a longtime tradition in our household. Enter the B2, Audioengine’s wireless speaker. Like all Audioengine speakers, the B2 is solidly constructed from excellent materials and attractively designed. When mine was delivered, I set it up and was playing music through it in less than five minutes. The Bluetooth wireless function is outstanding. I can easily stream music to the speaker from my phone from the next room. The B2 also has an auxiliary connection for any iPods, iPads, or other music source. As for sound, the B2 has a built in amplifier and produces a very natural, dynamic sound with good bass and smooth, natural mid-and high ranges; it work well for most styles of music.

www.audioengineusa.com 

June 2014 at the historic Fairmont Peace Hotel in Shanghai. I’m in China for the second of three times that year for a project with colleague Barbara Insel of Stonebridge Research. Our mission is to train Chinese sommeliers and hotel F&B directors on California fine wines.

That night at the Fairmont, I’m hosting a dinner for CEO’s of multi-national corporations. The menu is a multi-course affair melding together western and Chinese elements including such delicacies as sea cucumber—a dish whose flavors and textures almost defy wine pairing. The wine I’ve chosen for the evening’s entrée is the 1995 Ridge Montebello, a remarkably complex wine from one of California’s great terroirs. As I opened, checked, and tasted the bottles of Montebello, I noted that the wine had more than a bit of Brettanomyces. In fact, on a Brett scale of 1-10 it was a solid five.

If not familiar, Brettanomyces is non-spore forming yeast often referred to as "Brett." It’s soil-borne but often gets into winery environments where it can ultimately wreak havoc. The dark side of Brett is a range of off-aromas and flavors including sweat, barnyard, fecal, and medicinal. Think of small, unkempt rodents sporting multiple Band Aids. Such is not always the case. In the instance of the ’95 Montebello, the Brett surfaced in the form of savory/leathery/earthy complexities that lent richness to the texture and length to the finish. No arguments; the wine was simply delicious and sure to please. I doubted that anyone would have a problem with it much less consider it flawed.

Our dinner was not the only gala affair taking place that evening at the hotel. The late Paul Pontellier of Chateau Margaux was hosting a dinner for local collectors in the penthouse. Paul came down to meet me shortly before our dinner started. It would be my only time seeing him as he died unexpectedly less than two years later. I’m still saddened by his passing as I write this. Paul was utterly charming, warm, and gracious. He inquired about our project and generously offered me a glass of 1995 Chateau Margaux. Paul stayed briefly and then had to return upstairs. I then put my nose in the glass of Margaux only to be greeted by—you guessed it--Brettanomyces. I quickly picked up the Montebello and went back and forth between the two wines repeatedly. The Margaux had even more Brett than the Ridge. After a short time I put both glasses down and experienced what I call one of those “alone at the edge of the universe” moments where one is faced with a paradox; something that flies in the face of previous experience that must somehow be reconciled. And I wondered if an important part of the recipe for any great, age-worthy red wine was Brettanomyces. My answer in the moment was, I don’t know.

I still don’t know.

Brettanomyces could be the Pandora’s Box of wine. Everyone’s threshold much less tolerance for Brett is unique and completely personal. Some, including very famous wine critics, have a high tolerance--even preference--for red wines with high levels of Brett. Others, even complete winemaking cultures, have a zero-tolerance for it. To point, I was chairing a panel at a wine competition several years ago. One of the other panelists was a winemaker from Australia. On the morning of day two, my panel drew 30 Northern Rhône Syrahs, all retailing over $35. In other words, expensive wines from top appellations. As we started tasting through the first flight Brettanomyces quickly because a common denominator. The Australian winemaker responded by awarding all the wines “no medal.” When their results for the second flight were the same, I literally called a time out and had the other two panelists take a quick break. I then asked the winemaker what was up with refusing to award any of the wines a medal. They responded by saying any Brett—even trace amounts—was considered a flaw in their training. I then had a quick reality check discussion about context, Brett, and Northern Rhône Syrah. The winemaker grudgingly agreed to reconsider their scores—and awarded all the wines a bronze medal. It was a small victory for context.

Brettanomyces defines how important context is to wine. Both stellar 1995’s from the Shanghai dinner displayed high levels of Brett that would be unacceptable in many other wines. Find the same amount of Brett in an uber Napa Valley Cabernet or top flight Barossa Shiraz and the critics would howl and an immediate inquisition into the hygiene of the guilty winery would be demanded. Find a similar amount of Brett in a white wine or sparkling wine and the universe might be rent asunder, as they used to say in the middle ages. But for some reason—and here we’re pointing directly back to context—high levels of Brett in certain old school red wines is not only acceptable, it’s an expected and a long-established part of the wine’s character.
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My first memories of tasting classified growth Bordeaux from the ‘60’s and ‘70’s always included at least trace amounts of leather, barnyard, and pronounced soil notes which could easily have been cultured out as Brett or its cousin Dekkora. That all seemed to change with vintages in the early ‘90’s when better vineyard management, better quality fruit, better technology in the winery, and climate change resulted in cleaner and more concentrated wines. Gone are the days when each chateau seemed to have its own distinctive micro-biome in the vineyard and winery that was reflected in the bottle. There are, of course, always exceptions--and that too is context. 

C is for Context

Context is the eight-zillion-pound elephant in the cellar. I’ve written about it previously multiple times but can’t stress it enough. Context is arguably the most important part of any wine experience, an equation that also includes the taster and the wine. With any tasting, change the glassware, the temperature of the wine, even the temperature of the room where the wine is being tasted, and the experience of the person tasting the wine will be altered and sometimes radically different.

Context works in any number of ways and not all of them detrimental. One of the greatest wine experiences I’ve ever had was at Trattoria Zà Zà, a student/tourist hangout in Florence. It was the first—and only--time Carla and I have ever been to Europe together. That night we drank newly minted Chianti drawn from a huge cask behind the bar served in clunky glasses. It was—and still is—the most delicious Chianti I’ve ever tasted, and all because of that particular evening, my fabulous company, and the fact that we were in Florence. Face it, if you’re Florence with a glass of Chianti in hand and you’re not happy, you may have issues.

Context reminds us that mood and company are valuable parts of any great wine experience.

Context reminds us that tasting even the greatest vintages while in the throes of frustration, boredom, or anxiety can render the pedigree of the wine moot and the experience less than memorable--or tragically memorable in some cases.

Context reminds us to be mindful of adopting absolutes in the world of wine because the universe will always be willing to immediately show multiple exceptions to the rule. Count on it.

Context also reminds us to be wary of sources using numerical scores because, given the three variables in any tasting experience listed above, how accurate could numbers possibly be?

Finally, context reminds us that sharing wine and a meal with friends and family is perhaps the most satisfying thing we can do. Which takes us to Thanksgiving. 

Coda: Thanksgiving Dinner and Wine

It’s Thanksgiving week. Yesterday I was making my way through various wine things online and came across a blog post by a writer who lamented the fact that, and I quote, “Thanksgiving is the hardest meal of the year to pair wine with.” My reaction was an immediate, “Wait, what?” So to put everyone at ease—and I’m reasonably that sure most are not suffering a catharsis over Thanksgiving wine—here are some simple guidelines for pairing wine with your holiday meal.

Rule #1: drink whatever you like—and that includes beer, cider, or instant coffee. It’s your dinner and your palate so drink whatever you like. Ahem, there’s that context thing again.

Rule #2: not every wine works with Thanksgiving dinner: any wine with too much oak and any red wine with too much tannin could be a problem. Oak and tannin are by far the least flexible elements in wine when it comes to food.

Rule #3: if you like oaky Chardonnays or monster-truck-pull Cabernets refer to rule #1 and go for it. Context strikes yet again.

Rule #4: the huge range of flavors and inherent savory and sweet elements in the traditional Thanksgiving dinner means—and this is in complete opposition to the wine writer above—you can drink practically any style of wine; from slightly sweet Rieslings to dry rosés to crisp, herbal Sauvignon Blancs to supple Pinot Noirs. That’s right; practically everything works.

Rule #5: this is not a rule. What do I recommend for Thanksgiving dinner wines? First, start with good bubbly in the form of Champagne or Franciacorta. It’s the holidays and you deserve it, what with you family coming over and all. Second, Rieslings from the Mosel or Demi Sec Vouvrays fit the white wine bill nicely. Both have tart acidity and a touch of residual sugar that will complement the sweet elements in the menu. Third, Pinot Noirs and Grenache blends are my go-to red wines, especially with the turkey which some have described as "chicken with attitude." Tawny ports or late harvest Zinfandels are delicious with pies, both pumpkin and pecan. Finally, wrap it all up with a touch of Fernet Branca to settle the very large meal--and to also help ponder the beautiful sadness of the holidays.

Cheers!

p.s. Always keep context in mind when it comes to wine. 

Deborah Ory began dance at age seven. Years later she injured herself in ballet class and while convalescing she picked up her father’s camera and started photographing rehearsals. Deborah’s injury prevented her from continuing her dance career and the camera took its place. She would go on to work as a photo editor for House & Garden and Mirabella, as well as do editorial work for Self, Health, Martha Stewart Living, and Real Simple. Ory later married Ken Browar, a renowned fashion and beauty photographer whose work has appeared in Vogue, Elle, Marie Claire, and other European fashion magazines. He, too, had passion for dance that originated when he lived in Paris and photographed dancers for the Paris Opera Ballet.

The combination of Ory and Brower’s love of dance with their photography careers was the genesis of the NYC Dance Project (www.nycdanceproject.com). In the last several years the couple has photographed principal dancers from the top ballet and dance companies in New York and beyond in their Greenpoint, Brooklyn home studio where they live with two teenage daughters—also ballet students.

The photographs from the project are stunning. Each shot is meticulously planned—lighting, movement, and even the apparel worn by the dancers. The fruit of Ory and Brower’s labor is their book, “The Art of Movement,” first published in the fall of 2016. It quickly won an International Photography Award for best book. It’s also easily my favorite book of this year.

What is striking about the images is the remarkable athleticism of the dancers—something all too rarely appreciated about ballet. Further, how incredibly hard the dancers work at their craft for long years. Finally, how fleeting their careers are due to age and a high incidence of injury.

​In quotes included in the book, several of the dancers express their gratitude for the project saying how thankful they are that there is a photographic record of their talent for all eternity. That their careers are ephemeral and most of the time there is no record after the fact.

“Time and experience have taught me that this art form is ephemeral. Rather than focus on my fears for the future, I have realized it is best to be in the present and treasure each fleeting moment.”

Laura Halzack, Paul Taylor Dance Company

“The one thing I wish I would have known as a young ballerina was that it was okay not to be perfect. I spent most of my early years as a young dancer being really hard on myself and focusing on the mistakes instead of the victories. This career is very short and you have to appreciate all the moments in it.”

Maria Kowroski, Principal, New York City Ballet

“Dance is very much in the flow, in the moment. Each performance on stage is unique and it will not repeat itself. That’s why I love photography so much because you can remember the moment. Photography freezes the moment in time, especially as it’s very different than the fleeting work that dancer’s do, that’s very ephemeral.”
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Daniil Simkin, Principal, American Ballet Theater

Another common theme from the quotes is the fear of injury and the short shelf life of a dancer.

“My biggest fear is getting injured and not being able to dance the same way, even though I’ve head major injuries before. I’m the only dancer in the world who’s missing an ACL, which is basically impossible. I remember going to the doctor, and I could hear these residents watching videos of me on YouTube, and they asked, 'How do you do this?' I’m a medical anomaly.”

Ashley Bouder, Principal, New York City Ballet

“I wish I had known how to take care of my body when I started dancing. Dance is an extremely physically demanding career and it is really important to be good to your body because it is your instrument.”

Tyler Peck, Principal, New York City Ballet

Perhaps the most intriguing insight from the various dancer’s quotes is how only through hard work and great repetition is it possible for one to be “free” onstage and create in the moment. Fana Tesfagioris from the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater calls it like "flying.”

“Doing a show and knowing that I just left everything on the stage, like my guts are on the stage, is literally euphoria. It’s the best feeling ever. When I am able to be totally in the moment and free on stage, that’s pretty rewarding!”

Isabella Boylston, Principal, American Ballet Theater

“I wish more people knew what it felt like to actually dance. I’m not referring to the difficulty of learning a technique or a combination. I mean the part that comes after everything clicks. When your most focused mind, your most moldable body, and your truest spirit all intertwine at the highest level. That point will look different for everyone, of course, but I wish everyone could attempt to reach it at least once. It can literally feel like flying.”
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Fana Tesfagioris, Alvin Ailey Dance Theater

Tasting and Flight

​Several weeks ago, I was in Santa Fe for the Wine and Chile Fiesta, easily one of the top smaller wine and food festivals in the country. On day two, I was fortunate to draw the assignment of tasting through a flight of 2005 Burgundies with friend Mary Margaret McCamic, MW. The 2005 vintage—a warm one for Burgundy--was initially praised by the press. After 12 years it was a good time to revisit it. First up were three whites from Chassagne, Puligny, and Corton Charlemagne. With the exception of the Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru "Les Folatières" from Paul Pernot, which showed oxidation probably due to storage issues, the other two wines—the Vincent Girardin Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru "Les Blanchots Dessus" and the Camille Giroud Corton-Charlemagne--showed beautifully.

The five reds that made up the rest of the flight were 1er crus from Volnay. All were superb showing the soft voluptuous core of fruit, intense earthiness, and firm tannins the appellation is known for. However, the third wine, the Henri Boillot Volnay 1er Cru "Les Frémiets," gave me pause. When I first put my nose in the glass, a cascade of dried rose petals, dried red fruits, black tea, autumn leaves, and wood spice appeared within the first few seconds. I then internally “saw” shades of red, orange, and gold—autumn colors--and Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23 in A--which to me has always sounded like fall—started playing internally. All this sensory information quickly morphed into a memory three decades old of being at Chateau de Chenonceau in the Loire in late October and walking down a long tree-lined lane awash in brilliant autumn afternoon colors. The image above is a very good representation of the memory.

How does smelling a wine become color, music, and abstract memory? For some who are synesthetes, crosstalk between the senses is involuntary, habitual, and not always pleasant. I am anything but a synesthete, but there are times when I experience wine as colors, shapes, and even sounds in the form of music. These experiences are infrequent and anything but predictable. I think they occur for a very simple reason: I’ve tasted thousands of wines over the last 30-plus years, and for practically all that time I’ve used a very structured framework—the MS deductive tasting grid—to perceive and experience wine.

Like the dancers above, many years of “work” with tasting has sharpened my perceptions and hardwired sensory information into my long term memory to the extent that olfactory and taste impressions can at times quickly—almost instantly—be associated in very abstract ways to other senses and life memories. In a way, working in such a narrow, strict, and disciplined way for a long time has “freed” me to be able to do just that.

These associations may come down to the part of the tasting experience that is subjective. I’ll save that for another post, but I will state at this point that I believe around 30% of the tasting experience will always be highly personal and therefore subjective. To point, my perception of the various fruits and some non-fruit components in any wine will always be based on my life memories--which are again completely personal and subjective. The rest of the tasting experience, from a wine’s color to various impact aromas to the structural elements, can be quantified and agreed upon by anyone—especially those with an experienced palate.

Perhaps it’s this 30% of the wine experience that creates the potential and opportunity for crosstalk and “flight.” That with enough experience and repetition, impressions from a given wine might ignite internal responses that involve colors, sounds, feelings, and abstract memories.

Should you expect to find colors, music, and memories in a glass of wine? I can’t answer that. Everyone may have the same nervous system but we’re all wired differently. Does one need to taste thousands of wines to be able to experience sensory “cross talk”? I’m not convinced but I do believe that one has to at least be open to the possibility of these experiences actually happening in the first place. A quick strategy might involve asking questions internally when tasting. After all, that’s what we do constantly--but not necessarily consciously. It’s called thinking. The questions might include:
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“If this wine were a color, what would (could) it be?"

“If this wine had a shape to it, what would (could) it be?”
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“If this wine was like a song or piece of music, what would (could) it be?" 

No guarantees here, but it’s definitely worth exploring because it can make one think and associate in ways not previously experienced--and that’s worth the price of admission.
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Much like dance, the ritual of tasting wine goes back thousands of years. The act of putting our nose into a glass connects us to civilizations long past and symbolizes one of nature’s great gifts to man. I will never tire of smelling and tasting wine. With each glass comes the potential to make new connections and the possibility of taking flight.

The NPR feed on Facebook has just alerted me to the fact that I need to pencil in September 23rd on my calendar. You might do so as well. Why? Because powers supposedly wise are predicting the apocalypse—the end of the world—on that day. Again.

On the 23rd, Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter will be aligned around the constellations Virgo and Leo along with the sun and moon. Some biblical literalists are absolutely convinced that this particular planetary alignment has long been foretold in the Book of Revelation and signals the end of time, which will come after great destruction and turmoil.

Reading about yet another prediction for the end of the world did give me pause. What if it was true? Not sure about you, but I wouldn’t be pleased. With the end imminent and nothing to be done, one might quickly experience the inevitable emotional boomerang of shock, outrage, despair, apathy, and finally, reluctant acceptance.

It goes without saying that one would have many intense “I love you, man” conversations with friends and family. But soon we might even find ourselves actually looking forward to the last 24 hours before the big show. Then there’s the last meal. Now that would be important. Mind you, it’s not to be confused with the last supper or one’s last meal in prison. This last dinner would have to spectacular seeing how it’s literally the final meal before all of humanity and god’s creatures go poof. By the time dinner rolled around one would certainly have a ravenous appetite because, let’s face it, one really never would be this hungry again.
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With a universe of cuisines to choose from confusion and paralysis could quickly set in, what with the world ending and all. Focus would have to be the key. I personally would steer clear of any brash ethnic extravaganzas which might create digestive disturbances that would, well let’s face it, never happen. I’d also avoid any uber fancy Barbie food pageants of teeny tiny food on enormous plates, no matter the chef or the venue; too much maintenance and too little time. Instead, I’d go for the jugular of gustatory experience, the basic of basics, the urtext of fine dining. The menu would look something like this: 

A Meal for the End of Time

Oysters

I remember dining at an excellent seafood place in Singapore called “No Signboard” (because, there literally is no sign on the front of the restaurant) and my tablemates tucking into the most gargantuan oysters I’ve ever seen (as big as a toaster). The very sight of these monstrous bivalves was, needless to say, alarming. Eating oysters from and in a tropical climate is wrong. It’s also violating the universal law of not eating anything bigger than your head. For me the oysters would have to be small, delicate, and with just a touch of brininess. Kumamotos are my favorite. Six, please.

Wine Pairing

Champagne, of course. I’m a huge fan of blanc de blancs Champagne with oysters so I’m thinking that a beautiful vintage of Salon or Krug Clos du Mesnil would be perfect.

Caesar Salad

Yes, I know the salad should follow the entrée. But it’s the end of the world so the règles de la cuisine be damned. Here I’m choosing the most abused member of the salad family that usually appears on the table as a mess of soppy greens slathered in a gloppy white substance the content of which could be several molecules away from plastic with croutons fashioned from leftover dry wall. Regardless, a well-made Caesar is my go-to salad and a thing of beauty. The romaine has to be fresh, vibrant, and crisp; the dressing has to be tart with a more than a bit of citrus cut; the croutons have to be small and crunchy; the cheese a good Parmesan. And don’t hold back on the anchovies, please!

Wine Pairing

We need an intense, mineral-driven, and bracingly acidic white here with little or no oak: a young vintage of Raveneau Le Clos or Künstler Hochheimer Hölle Grosses Gewächs sounds just right. The latter is oh-so-appropriate.

Bacon

A bacon course? Why? Because we can--and we should. After all, bacon is vitamin “P”; it makes everything taste good. But we’re not talking about any bacon here--only serious bacon from a heritage breed of hogs like Berkshire will do and simply roasted. Jamón Ibérico would also do in a pinch. In fact, let’s have both!

Wine Pairing

A great vintage of La Tâche or Leroy’s Le Musigny will do nicely.

Steak Frites

The ultimate entrée: a bone-in 24-26 ounce strip steak with an outrageous amount of marbling like Kobe beef done over a very hot grill medium-rare with a touch of charring on the exterior. The fries have to be twice-done in goose fat or duck fat and finished simply with sea salt and fresh cracked pepper. Perfection.

Wine Pairing

There are too many great reds to choose from but I’d narrow it to three: a monumental vintage of Bordeaux (’45 Latour or ’61 Cheval Blanc), California Cabernet (’74 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard or Ridge Montebello), and an extraordinary vintage of Penfold’s Grange or Henschke’s Hill of Grace. Yes, all three.

Cheese

Once again too many choices, so I’d narrow it down to just three favorites. They’re like a trio of scandalous dwarves: Epoisses (stinky and runny), Stilton (salty and pungent) and a fine aged Reggiano Parmesano (crumbly and bit corrupt). 

Wine Pairing

A trio of weapons-grade botrytis wines is the only solution here: great vintages of Yquem, Royal Tokaji Aszú Essencia, and Robert Weil’s Kiedricher Gräfenberg Beerenauslese Goldkapsul.

Pot du Crème au Chocolat

With the end of world literally just around the corner the last morsel of food would fittingly be chocolate, one of mankind’s greatest achievements. My only requirements here are that the chocolate has to be outrageously good and the texture of the pot de crème like a weightless wisp of silk.

Wine Pairing

I’m going counter-current here with a great young vintage of Fonseca or Taylor’s; 2011 immediately comes to mind.

Coda

After dinner, we’d make our way to an arrangement of lawn chairs in the front yard. I’d pour myself a very large Fernet Branca accompanied by a Montecristo No. 2. 

Finally, the speakers would be moved from the living room to the front steps to play tunes for the end of time. What music would fill the air those last few precious minutes? Here are some initial thoughts:

1. “Stairway to Heaven,” Led Zeppelin: NOT
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2. “It’s the End of the World as We Know It,” R.E.M. - possible!

3. “Quartet for the End of Time,” Olivier Messiaen: good thinking but it’s too long and complicated.

4. Beethoven’s Ode to Joy from the 9th Symphony: gets my vote. It’s a good tune, repeated several times, and everyone can join in or just hum if they don’t know the words.