If you want the official guide to judging a wine from a sensory viewpoint, check out Part I: See, Swirl, Sniff, Sip. Here, I’m going to step out of critical thinking mode to help you connect with wine on a more sensual, experiential level. Wines have an inherent soul about them, and, I believe, any evaluation would be incomplete without considering it.
Remember, you are the ultimate arbiter of whether a wine is good or not—not the price tag, not the reviews, not the ratings. That said, you may want to think about developing your own scale for evaluating wines. It may be numbers, it may be a coding system, or it may be little sketches of impressions. In any case, the best way to hone into “good” wines is to develop your own palate and preferences, and then remember the wines that bring you pleasure so you can enjoy them again and again.
Here we go . . .
Where are you?
First off, don’t underestimate the effect an environment, situation or ambiance has on how much you enjoy or eschew a wine. Sitting across the table from your beloved sipping a Marlstone will be a different experience than popping the same wine while out at a high stakes business dinner.
Where do you picture yourself when you sniff the wine?
Scent has the strongest tie to memory of all of our senses, evoking powerful emotions of nostalgia. What kinds of memories does the wine’s nose evoke for you? My parents once brought a bottle of Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon to us in Costa Rica, where Christopher and I were living at the time. And as much as we had thoroughly enjoyed getting to know South American wines while we were there (there were almost no US or European wines to be found in the markets), the first whiff of Sonoma County terroir brought tears to my eyes quite literally. I could smell the dust and the fruit and almost hear the eucalyptus trees rustling in the distance and felt more homesick than I had in months.
Sip . . . then stop!
Take a first sip. A real one, not just a taste. Swirl it around your mouth, swish it back and forth, then swallow it down. Before you have time to censor yourself, blurt out five words that pop into your mind. They could be flavors, feelings, colors, textures or something totally, completely unrelated to wine. As I said in a comment on the last post, I once blurted out “salt!” when asked what I tasted in a particular whiskey. It turns out that I was right on . . . as we were situated just a few steps from the sea. If you feel like it, write these observations down in a journal.
Are you smiling?
After you’ve blurted your descriptions of the wine, add three words that describe how the wine makes you feel. A wine doesn’t have to be world-class to bring a smile to your face. A fruity, crisp rose on the first days of summer, for instance (like the one I shot the other day, above . . . I thought it looked so beautiful in the afternoon sunlight, the colors complementing the jamon serrano and terrine we had with it), absolutely makes my heart sing.
So, now I turn the question back to you . . . do YOU think the wine you’re drinking is good?
11 Comments
Hey Lia,
Did you see this article about tasting wine?
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/07/dining/07pour.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin
Interesting to see how much of our preference is learned!
Good advice, as always.
Do you think the average consumer will really follow such guidelines though? I don’t know… most of the time, I think people just drink the wine. The perception that they like it needs to leap out at them from that. Maybe that is why the big, fruity, wines are in fashion - the lack of subtlety. They hit your palate even with a simple drink, no swishing etc.
- steve
I’ve only just started reading wine blogs and this is by far the best one I’ve come across!
See you again soon!
Dana . . . Great post–thanks for the link. I love that man.
Steve . . . I can’t argue with you on that one. Nor can I necessarily fault people for not taking the time to evaluate each wine they drink. I’ll admit that most of the time, I just like to sip and focus more on what’s going on around me (food, conversation, scenery) than on the wine itself–which makes me an anomoly here in my neck of the woods . . . in fact, don’t tell anyone (especially my husband) or I’ll be shunned. So I guess I see these as guidelines to help people when and where they want to focus in closer on the wine they’re drinking. Not to make them feel like they have to or “should.” Thanks for helping me see the distinction!
Christie . . . I’m so glad you’re enjoying! I myself am enjoying yours . . . ah, nothing like mutual admiration ;-).
Your last two posts have brought me back to an experience with you and Chris in our dining room a few years ago.
To Steve’s point (Winescorecard), it was difficult for me, as a real novice, to describe a wine or to judge its quality. I wasn’t even completed sure that I could tell if a bottle was corked or not…
Since I generally determined a wine’s quality based on its price, you encouraged me to open several bottles of red wine from varying price points. After pouring several samples into glasses, you had Julie and I taste each wine, close our eyes, and say whatever came to mind regarding what we were experiencing.
As I remember, two of the tastes I blurted out were “wet cardboard” and “basement.” Your eyes lit up and you said, “Yes! You’ve got it!” My point is that just because the rule book says “earthy” or “musty,” doesn’t mean that one’s own unique (and perhaps singular) interpretation is flawed.
I’ve been a lot more confident in my evaluation and description of wine since then. You’re a gem!
Steve . . . I can’t tell you how great that makes me feel that I was able to help you become more confident in sharing your opinions about wine (I remember that night :-))! I hope this post helps others to do the same. Thanks for sharing!
OK, ready to s/s/s/s– but which wine? Oh, wait–that’s what we’re HERE for..
Sorry to mention, but buying a bottle of wine easily doubles the price of dinner (at least in *my* house) so I chose a very modestly priced one! The label says
“2006, FETZER Vineyards, Valley Oaks, CHARDONNAY, California”. It has a little icon saying the winery has won awards. (See, already I’ve cheated…don’t ask, don’t tell!) I’ll drink it thoughtfully, using all the above strategies.
Is there a reason that grape juice is the juice usually made into wine? Would apple/berry juice take on nuances and flavors if treated like wine grapes? Is it just the way it happened, or are grapes particularly suited?
Lisa,
I really enjoyed your post. When I teach wine classes (through my SF based business, HIP TASTES Events), I also like to encourage folks to “think outside the box” and allow themselves to be transported by a wine’s fabulous - and seemingly endless - collection of scents. This is when wine moves from being simply something you knock back during a meal to a real journey in and of itself - and that journey is different for every taster, which is so cool.
To Steve from Winescorecard - this is absolutely worth encouraging people to do. As with anything, a little practice when it comes to wine tasting can go a long way towards enhancing your enjoyment of it. Just because most people won’t follow Lisa’s advice doesn’t mean she shouldn’t take the time to encourage those who will. The few who follow will reap the rewards.
Courtney
Okay, now you make me want to drive to Spain to get some Rosados….
For me, summer just cries for the Rosados from Somotamo… esp. Enate.
They make me happy…sunsets, warm weather, lazy lunches…sigh.
Well, that’s what a photo does for me - you can imagine if I actually get a whiff!
Rosemary . . . I’m so curious how the Fetzer fared! We just had a “we have to get control of our wine spending” talk, so us Hubers are on the budget bandwagon too.
As for your question–a good one, I might add–other fruits can indeed be fermented into their own “wine” of sorts. You may have had “hard” apple cider at some point, and that’s exactly what’s gone on. I suspect, though, that grapes have some special alchemy to them that makes them especially fermentation-friendly. I’ve posed the question to Erik, so I’ll update wiht more when I hear back from him.
Courtney . . . Glad to hear we share the same approach!
Katie . . . OK, now YOU’re making me want to go to Spain!
I can see why you’d want to do this often/regularly. The tasting was pretty straightforward, I looked through the nice sliiightly greened yellow, wished I had 2 hues to compare. (Next time, two wines.)
Swirling the glass coated it, but not…creamlike or syrupy or leggish–(do they have a wine edition of Roget’s haha?)
When I smelled it, I immediately thought “flowers” but I think I meant “green growing things” as opposed to ripe things or even ripening things. It also smelled like…Wine… (sorry!)
But oh dear the sip–I sloshed it all around all at once– altogether too resinous! Why are we introducing a LOT of liquid to the part of our mouth that detects bitter? In normal drinking, maybe the tannin would not be detected so much, so the wine would SEEM balanced? Anyway, after that initial shock (I’m sure you know Retsina!) I went back to just sipping. I was eating seasoned Ry-Krisp with cottage cheese and black pepper at the time, for a snack. The cottage cheese was not right, but I’m not sure why or with what to replace it. I don’t feel crazy in love with the Fetzer NOR adverse to buying it again, maybe to use in another experiment with TWO Chardonnays. Or will Chardonnays ALL taste a little too green to me if I am sensitive to the tannin?
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