Okay, I'm a snoot -- especially when it comes to wine and food.
It irks me to have someone blather on about wine I know to be tasteless and, worse, have when it is brought to my house and I actually have to drink it. Even many of my friends (my apologies, you know who you are) don’t have a taste for wine: they are led mainly (apologies again) by marketing as I am in other things. The wines that they buy are usually mainstream and uninspiring, if not always cheap.
I know you can’t be an expert on everything. It takes time and effort to develop discrimination. And you do run the risk of becoming a picky jerk. As Ludwig Bemelmans says, “The true gourmet, like the true artist, is one of the unhappiest creature’s existent. His trouble comes from so seldom finding what he constantly seeks: perfection.”
But the search for quality and meaning in food will never be resolved. Where does one’s taste come from: comfort, experience, genetics, place, passion, obsession, marketing? Why are some wines complex and astounding and others simply good? How do you tell?
There are no hard and fast answers to these questions. But they are fun to think about. As food writer Brillat-Savarin defines taste, “Taste, which enables us to distinguish all that has flavor from that which is insipid.” If you spend years of your life eating three times a day, it's worth the effort to avoid foods that do not offer challenge and interest.
Relativity prevents taste from ever being absolute. For example:
* I was talking to the head veterinarian of the Bronx Zoo and was lamenting this lack of wine taste among my friends and he said that although the Zoo has two of the rarest giraffe type animals in the world (sorry I have already forgotten what they are called) most of the visitors are primarily interested in -- squirrels!
* Normally I am not a McDonald’s fan; yet, I fought back tears of joy when after a particularly rough week of camping (is there any other kind?) I dug ecstatically into a Big Mac. Ah, civilization
* Twelve years ago during sampling wines and bicycling in Burgundy I was disappointed to note all the wines smelled and tasted alcoholic and hot. What happened to the elegant balanced burgundies I liked? Back in Paris I was sick to my stomach and ended up at the American Hospital I thought I was dying. I filled up with stomach medications from the pharmacy but before I could start taking them the hospital called and said I was pregnant. My normally complex foodie palate had disintegrated in deference to my daughter who now at twelve is smart and suffering no ill effects from her prenatal Burgundy adventures.
* I was reading an article by Dan Barber, just voted chef of the year of the United States; he recounted tasting a peach at a farmer’s market. It was so good he burst into tears. After a grueling training in some of Europe’s demanding kitchens, it was a peach that got him. Relativity is always a factor, but Dan’s experience with top quality food certainly allows him to judge a peach.
How do you improve taste?
Start by listening to those with experience and practice. In the wine world Robert Parker is the taste master. He is both idolized and maligned. Though he speaks articulately, prolifically and passionately, the wine world is large enough to accommodate opposing views. I am generalizing but Parker tends to like big hearty reds with alcohol and lots of jammy fruit. This assessment does a disservice to his considerable contributions to the selling and promoting of wine.
Those who do disagree with his opinions should get out there and start drinking and writing. Some have, like Alice Feiring. Alice Feiring’s recent book, The Battle for Wine and Love: or How I Saved the World from Parkerization is funny. She has an opinionated and experienced palate and an affinity for wines that have not been overly manipulated by the winemaker. She deplores the trend of winemakers who try to cater to Parker’s taste of dark and alcoholic wines.
Who is correct? By having tried only a fraction of the wines that Parker has I realize that while some tastes are similar I like wines that are less alcoholic, more elegant and subtle with clean zesty acidity. Wines I like complement and don’t overwhelm food.
There are no definitive answers to taste. Possibly it lies in convincing others that yours are better or more perceptive, sometimes it is how loud you talk or being more aggressive. As Karen MacNeil in her brilliant The Wine Bible says, “One of the most insidious myths in American wine culture is that a wine is good if you like it. Liking a wine has nothing to do with whether it is good. Liking a wine has to do with liking that wine period.” There is definitely a talent for wine tasting or smelling as that is the 90 plus percent of tasting and some people are able to smell more components of a wine because of genetics, although experience needs to be considered as well.
Recently I was at a wine tasting with eight very experienced and respected wine writers, bloggers and serious collectors. We blind tasted about 15 wines and had wildly different perceptions of aromas and flavors. As one of them said we are “very opinionated, often wrong.”
To develop a somewhat objective opinion of wine taste many different wines. One needs to learn what each grape variety offers and the wine should celebrate the strengths of that variety. The character of a particular grape should not be compromised by winemaking technique as too much oak which imparts an overwhelming vanilla, toast or smoke aroma. The elements in a wine like acid, tannin and alcohol should be balanced one should not be pronounced. Experience tasting allows one to judge these components with confidence.
A great wine should be complex instead of one aroma and flavor is should have many and continue to evolve in the glass. Outstanding food is the same. Great chefs can make a thumbnail sized morsel of food explode with seemingly infinite number of flavors great wines can offer the same experience. Practice and taste, pay attention to what you are eating and drinking, occasionally splurge on a more expensive bottle of wine, although that does not necessarily offer better quality.
In the meantime maybe my friends will get the idea and bring better wine (nudge, nudge). Here are a few suggestions.
I love the Charles Joguet Cuvee Terroir 2007 Chinon. Chinon is an area in the Loire Valley and the grape variety is cabernet franc. Cabernet franc is generally not as full-bodied as cabernet sauvignon and it has a more perfumed nose with some vegetable and earth about it. This is a nice wine to go with roasted chicken. It is affordable at about $20.
Another off the beaten path variety to try to develop one’s palate is the Domaine Mercouri 2005 Refosco from Greece. It had plum and wild black fruit aromas and flavors and some perfume of bay leaves and pine forests. For $20.
My favorite white is made with the ubiquitous chardonnay grape but from Chablis the northernmost region of Burgundy. I am drinking the Moreau 2007 Chablis every day. I had this at a recent tasting and was tempted to give Monsieur Moreau a hug, actually I think I did. This Chablis sees no oak so it is lean, intense with citrus, tangy apple and stone flavors. For $20.
If one is looking for a more affordable white try the Analivia Verdejo 2008 from Rueda Spain, $9.99. This is more assertive than a pinot grigio giving pineapple and grapefruit notes but is not quite as aggressively citrusy as a sauvignon blanc.