WRITTEN BY PAUL GREGUTT
PHOTOGRAPHED BY BARRY WONG
SCENTS AND NONSENSE
It may seem snotty, but that winespeak has some use
Myriad terms, from the sublime to
the bizarre, might be used to describe a wine's bouquet —
everything from sweaty socks, to roses, lead pencil, wet dog
and lemon. |
MANY YEARS AGO, sitting in for the first time
with a group of practiced wine tasters, I was astonished to hear
them describing fine wines as smelling like wet dog, nail-polish
remover and sweaty socks. My writer's mind immediately snapped
to attention. I can do this, too, I thought. "Well, I get
old running shoe," I blurted, "with a bit of raw baloney
and whiteout fluid!"
That's when I discovered there were actually rules to
this game. Nail-polish remover is a recognized wine term; baloney
is not.
A tasting note from a label for a 2001 Special Reserve
reads, "Complex floral and cocoa aroma. Vibrant acidity
mingles with lavender and spice flavors, finishing on a note
of currant and blackberry."
Such exuberant prose is the bricks and mortar of most
wine writing. Apart from scores given by the big wine publications,
and medals won in various competitions, the consumer has no wine
metrics to use when trying to find a decent bottle of something
new and different. In theory, tasting notes are supposed to fill
that gap.
Most fail miserably, I'm afraid. If you take a close
reading of the description of the Special Reserve, what does
it really tell you? Are we talking about a cabernet or a zinfandel,
a viognier or a chenin blanc? In fact, none of the above. The
quote is from an ad for Starbucks Special Reserve coffee!
Such confusion led to the creation of Ann Noble's aroma
wheel more than 20 years ago. Noble developed it while teaching
in the viticulture and enology department at the University of
California, Davis. Her goal was to take the vagueness out of
wine writing, and to plug in a range of meaningful terms that
specifically relate to the chemical composition of wine.
Along with the wheel came instructions for concocting
a series of "standards" in order to train the nose
to identify key fragrances, both good and bad, commonly found
in wine. She called it "kindergarten for the nose."
Briefly stated, the aroma wheel is divided into three
rings. On the inner ring are the 12 basic words that Noble prefers
for characterizing the overall aroma of a given wine: fruity,
vegetative, nutty, caramel, woody, earthy, chemical, pungent,
oxidized, microbiological, floral and spicy. In the middle and
outer rings, these terms are subdivided and elaborated upon.
For example, beginning with a wine that is fruity (such
as riesling), the next ring asks you to further define it as
citrus, berry, tree fruit, tropical fruit, dried fruit or other.
The third ring gets into the nitty gritty, listing specific fruits
and vegetables, nuts and flowers, and such oddities as yogurt,
sauerkraut, soy sauce, kerosene, wet dog and skunk.
So why bother studying winespeak? Why not just stick
with "I like it" or "I don't"?
Well, for starters, putting words to wine, as in any
other attempt to verbalize a complex sensory experience, helps
you focus on, absorb, understand and retain that experience.
A basic grasp of wine terms also helps dispel some odd myths,
such as the confusion surrounding descriptions on wine labels.
I've had more than one friend ask, in all seriousness, why wineries
added grapefruit to their gewürztraminer and raspberries
to their zinfandels. The fact that these were simply descriptive
terms was not evident.
I've written the accompanying glossary to give you a
handle on some basic wine descriptors. Beyond that, the advice
from here is to drink locally, speak metaphorically. A story
is told about the composer Johannes Brahms. Invited to dinner
at the home of a noted wine connoisseur, Brahms was fussed over
and plied with a particularly ancient bottle of claret. "This
is the Brahms of my cellar," his host announced with great
fanfare. After an anxious pause, Brahms was asked to comment.
His reply: "Better bring out your Beethoven."
|
Defining Your Terms
Crisp: Indicates higher levels of acidity. Often used for
white wines that have been fermented in stainless steel and given
no exposure to new oak barrels.
Dry: Most wines are dry. It simply means that
the grapes were fermented until all the discernible sugar was
converted to alcohol.
Fruity: Clean, fresh fruit flavors should be
evident in young wines. As wines evolve, the fruit flavors may
become dried or leathery. Fruit can give an impression of sweetness,
even when a wine is dry.
Leesy: Some white wines (chardonnay and pinot
gris, for example) are fermented in oak barrels and left on the
lees, the dead yeast cells. In the process they gain a certain
creamy texture and complexity, but lose some fruitiness.
Oaky: A well-loved range of flavors found in
many chardonnays and most red wines. Vanilla, chocolate, toast,
bacon fat and smoke are some of the flavors that may develop
after aging in new oak barrels.
Sweet: Many inexpensive white wines are off-dry,
which means they have a degree of sweetness. Dessert wines (ice
wine, late harvest, fortified, etc.) are sweeter still.
Tannic: Tannin is detected as a puckery sensation,
a dry, leafy astringency in the back of the tongue, a bit like
black tea. It's more noticeable in red wines than in whites.
For a more in-depth look at wine terminology, see Andrea
Immer's "Great Wine Made Simple" (Broadway Books, $25).
|
Paul Gregutt is the author of "Northwest
Wines" and a freelance writer who regularly appears on the
Wine pages of The Times' Wednesday Food section. His e-mail address
is indelible@aol.com. Barry Wong is a Pacific Northwest magazine
staff photographer.
|
