Mything Logic

I find myself about to debunk a product who’s claim I do not altogether doubt. The Eisch Glaskultur company of Germany has released a line of stemmed crystal that they claim “aerates beverages within minutes.” Their packaging states “A wine poured into a Breathable Glass for just 2 to 4 minutes will show signs of aeration equivalent to the same wine that has been decanted and aerated for 1 to 2 hours.”

Since I am on the record for saying that “breathing” is a wine myth, I can hardly fault a product that claims to do nothing, and succeeds. Of course the implication that they are using to sell glassware is that this stem will improve your wine tasting experience. This is what I set out to test.

Let me start by clarifying my positing on wine breathing. I have conducted various experiments over the years and the results have not done much to make me a believer. I am not saying that there is no difference from a wine that is decanted for an hour or two from a recently opened bottle, I am just not sure the difference is either significant, or difficult to reproduce with a few good swirls in a glass.

The premise is that allowing a wine to breath opens it up. It has a very poetic sound to it, except that wine does not respire so much as exhale. Wine vents volatile compounds into the air. The whole glass swirling thing is about releasing these compounds to make them easier to detect.

To say that a sitting wine improves is to say that these volatile compounds were in present in too great a number to begin with. This is certainly true with some wines that have off odors or excessive volatility, and in those rare cases I highly recommend a forceable decanting (so the wine literally chugs out of the bottle and splashes violently into the decanter).

If the wine was sound to begin with, it by definition was not excessively volatile. Vinegar is wine with way too much volatility, as an extreme example. Few modern wines you open will be vinegar-like. Some other off odors, such as the wet rotten leaf smell of a wine that has undergone malo-lactic fermentation in a bottle, may be reduced by decanting. A wine that went through MLF in a bottle will usually be slightly sparkling as well.

The experiments I have conducted include opening a bottle and tasting it blind against another bottle of the same wine which had been opened and or decanted some time before. The decanted wine may well have a different aroma and taste, but after a few minutes of swirling either wine, the differences balance out.

For the Breathable Glass (BG) I created a simple experiment. So simple that I concede that I do not have definitive proof of my hypothesis. On the other hand, it is simple enough that anyone can try it.

I put the same wine in the BG and another tall, well shaped glass and let them sit for four minutes without touching them. I then poured both wines into identical tasting glasses and tasted them blind. I did the same test again, only this time I swirled each of the wines reasonably evenly for 2 minutes before switching glasses and tasting.

In neither case did the wine from the BG exhibit any significant aromas or flavors that varied from the wine which had been poured into the regular glass. Therefore I can state unequivocally that I did not find anything remarkable or impressive.

My wording here is deliberate since Ronn Weigand who is one of the few combination Master Sommeliers and Masters of Wine is quoted right on the packaging as saying “I was especially impressed - Remarkable!”

The test I conducted were designed to be easily verified by my peers, and as always I urge them to do so. What I didn’t do is almost as important as what I did.

I did not test a wine that had been in the BG for 4 minutes against the same wine that had been in a decanter for two hours, as per the claim on the package. I did not run a spectroscopic analysis to determine if the crystal makeup of the glasses was richer in oxygen, the mechanism cited for the claim. I didn’t do many things, but I did what I did, and I didn’t find a difference.

The Breathable Glass line is fine crystal with a good feel to it, and at $20 a stem it is not outrageously priced. I got mine at Bed Bath & Beyond, and it is because it is being marketed to the main stream instead of to wine geeks that I felt compelled to try it.

My advice is to save your money and buy one of the $4 stems right next to it on the shelf, unless you like the feel of the glass and it is in your budget. Just don’t expect miracles.

Oh, and the title of the blog is indeed a nod to Robert Lynn Asprin’s entertaining Myth-Adventures series. I know a few of you were dying to ask.

The physiology of wine tasting

I just finished reading a very interesting book. Sensi DiVini is a tiny 80 page treatise on how our brain deals with tasting wine. It is a collection of short essays written by various experts in their fields. It is quite technical, and while I love all things techie, there can be no doubt that some of it was completely over my head.

Even while plowing through descriptions of the various parts of the brain I could immediately understand the relationship of the material to my experiences with tasting wine. The book even gave some scientific insight into why we enjoy elaborate feasts such as my famed seven course dinners.

It has been explained many times in the past, even by me, that taste is nothing without smell. We can only taste 5 things (it used to be 4, but there is a new one now). Sweet, sour, bitter, salty and the newly recognized sensation, umami. Umami has been described as our ability to taste “savory” but the scientific description is more to the point, it is the taste of proteins.

It is the first three taste sensations; sweet, sour and bitter; that come into play in wine. The other “tastes” in wine are due to aromas. We may only be able to taste 5 sensations, but our ability to ascertain individual aromas is seemingly endless.

From a mere 300 aroma sensors (mice have 1000) we can distinguish grapefruit from lemon, bing cherries from maraschinos, and pleasant aromas from nasty ones.

It was the need to distinguish edible from less edible foods that helped us evolve this complex interplay of flavors and aromas with recognition and selection or rejection. If it tastes good we enjoy it, and we eat it. If it tastes nasty, we spit it out, sometimes even involuntarily as with a gag reflex.

The sense of aroma is almost directly tied into the brain, making smells one of most primal senses. It is for this reason that a smell can so easily conjure a memory. We also use visual and gustatory senses when tasting, and even the sense of somatosensory (touch). These other senses combine with aroma to form recognition and pleasure through a process referred to as binding.

Binding is taking the information from several parts of the brain and creating a single unifying experience. A great example from the book is when we watch tennis. We recognize the ball as a shape, we recognize the yellow of the ball as a color, and we recognize the movement to allow us to follow its trajectory.

I have long known that I taste more effectively when I am a little hungry. This follows the research that shows that our impression of flavor (which for this discussion is a combination of taste and aroma) is highly regulated by our current level of satiety for that flavor or even nutritional value.

We are not really good at craving specific nutrients, so instead our mind equates textures, shapes and colors along with flavor, as broader nutritional needs. This is why some foods sound more appealing to us at any given time than other foods.

Once you have been eating a specific food your ability to derive pleasure from it is reduced, as is your ability to recognize the intensity of the flavor or aroma. You may be satiated from one flavor, but a new different one has all the intensity and pleasure potential you got from the first item at the start. This is the scientific reasoning behind courses or even having more than one food on your plate.

I have long held that education of any subject increases your enjoyment of it. This is especially true of wine, and the entire rationale behind my given vocation. It turns out there is some empirical evidence to support this.

Sesi DiVini recounts a study wherein wine experts and wine novices where each placed in an MRI and given tastes of wine, and of course a control solution of glucose. The wine experts had much more activity in the brain, especially in the pleasure centers. Because the experts were analyzing the wine and the novices were not, the experts “got more out of tasting wine.”

I am not exactly a book reviewer, and this is not exactly a book review, but it is a look at a subject that I have never seen handled so scientifically. I had to write away to Italy to get the book, but they are looking into why it isn’t on Amazon any more. If you are intrigued and want a copy of your own, you can get it here.

Eating and drinking are rewarding in of themselves. Knowing how the brain reacts to flavors will probably not bring you more joy when you eat and drink, but knowing more about what you are eating and drinking will. As always I challenge you to get more out of your life by experimenting with food and wine at every opportunity. Taste something new today, it turns out the experience may even help you enjoy your old favorites all that much more.

Does Might Make Right?

The wine blogosphere has been awash with news of Randy Dunn’s letter to consumers telling them to essentially stop buying wines they like. At the heart of the matter is once again the controversy over high alcohol wines. If consumers like these wines so much that it has changed the way wines are being made all over the world, what exactly is wrong with them? The short answer is “nothing.” The longer answer is “they all taste the same.”

Varietal character, the terroir (where the grapes are grown) and the winemaker all contribute to the wine. These are the factors that determine what makes wine x taste different than wine z. When the alcohol starts to creep up past 15% many of these differences are drowned out by the sweetness of the alcohol.

This is not altogether different than what happens on the other end of a wine scale. By leaving a touch of residual sugar in an inexpensive wine, vintners can make wines labeled with varietal names that while not nasty because the sugar hides the flaws, but they have no actual varietal character.

And so it is with high alcohol wines, it becomes increasingly difficult to tell one from another, much less one variety from another.

These big alcohol wines are fruity, rich, easy drinking, and easy to enjoy. In fact they are all the things I like in my favorite wine, Zinfandel.

Zins are often high in alcohol, and since they are all about fruit, it suits them. Cabs are a different story. They have traditionally been all about structure, the delicate interplay between acidity, fruit and tannin. The market seems to be demonstrating that consumers feel Cabs should taste like Zins (ironically I recently tasted several Zins that were so oaked as to taste like Cabs).

Chardonnay too has not been spared the hike in alcohol content. For over oaked heavily lactic (buttery) Napa Chards this may be a good thing. The same can’t be said for regions such as Santa Barbara where Chardonnay traditionally has developed decent varietal character.

Many bloggers and wine writers are complaining that these wines don’t work well with food. I never thought Cab and Chard went all that well with food anyway, but I do hate to see Pinot Noirs with too little acidity and too much alcohol.

What worries Randy Dunn and so many others is that the consumers have shown a strong preference for these high alcohol styles. They fear that the days of individual expression in wine are waning. They needn’t fear.

Dunn’s wines are expensive, as are so many other really good wines. The cost alone keeps most consumers from every experiencing any wine of this level. Add in scarcity, and there just isn’t enough great wine to go around.

Most of these high alcohol wines are in the middle price range, or the lower end of the middle. Certainly there are some high priced wines that have adopted this fad, but then there have always been wines whose price tags are not borne out by their quality (Opus One is my favorite whipping boy in this category).

For top end producers I have a cliché for you to hold on to: If you make it, they will come. Keep making great wines, and there will always be a market for them. It will never be the mainstream market, but then it never has been.

As for berating consumers, it seems a silly thing for a winemaker to do – usually that is my job. I have been suggesting for years that you go forth and try something new. Something different. The joy of wine for me is the incredible variety of styles available. High alcohol wines may have shrunk the number of choices, but there are plenty of others to explore. There is an entire world of wine that you may never have experienced, but I won’t lie to you, some of them you will not like, but how will you know until you try?

Looking for a head start? Why not run out and get a Gewurztraminer from Alsace? These nearly bone dry wines have a heady aroma and are outstanding with most foods. Prefer red? I do, so it is quite understandable. When was the last time you drank a Spanish wine? What about something from your own home state?

Do you really love the high alcohol wines? Then drink one, don’t let me, Randy Dunn, or anyone else tell you that your taste is anything other than perfect exactly the way it is. It is your taste after all.

The Return of the Prodigal Son

A funny thing happened on the way to this blog. Since the late 70s I have been a resident of Aspen, Colorado. For the last 10 years I have been running my wine school and doing a bit of consulting. That has all changed, almost over night.

Three weeks ago I got a call on a Wednesday, asking me to start a new job in San Diego on the following Monday. In near panic mode I gathered up what I could carry with me, and headed down the road.

I finally have an apartment, and of course the new job, and most importantly to this blog, Internet access. In a word (or three): I am back.

The last four years I have written this blog, sharing bits of insight, the occasional bit of actual education, and the all too often gripe. I don't expect that to change.

What will change is my perspective. I am now on the other side of the fence. I am no longer a professional critic, I am one of the criticized.

It will be interesting to see how the tenor of the blog changes as I grapple with the realities of what has always been for me more of an abstract. No longer can I shake a finger at the industry from afar, that finger now points to me.

Where we will go, what we will discover together, and what my new position will bring to the table, all remain to be seen. What is sure is that I am not going anywhere, and you will be hearing more from me.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, the hard part is not getting me to talk, it is getting me to shut up.

Sit back, enjoy the new view, and feel free to let me know what you would like to see here. Oh, and now that I am in a big city, chances are I will get to that box wine tasting I promised you.