"Tastes & Tasting; Vivaldi vs. Christina Aguilera"

In “Wine for the Confused”, the famous British Comedian/Performer/Actor John Cleese says something to the affect of; “don’t let anyone tell you what wine you like, because we all have different tastes and those tastes should be honored". I should say to Mr. Cleese, that’s sage advice, if only more frequently heeded. We are, as a ‘wine-society’ (pun intended), inundated with images, marketing, crooked point systems and quickly changing trends in the industry. I remember when a glass of Pinot Noir was one of the toughest sells on the floor. Merlot was ever so fashionably admired (and gulped), and Cava was simply an elicitor of blank stares. Tastes change, whether or not those tastes are the product of true preference found, or perhaps more frequently, a following of the wine masses. Look no further than a vehicle like the movie “Sideways” to act as the conductor in making Pinot Noir the next Shiraz. Some fickle Californian winegrowers even uprooted Cabernet and Merlot plantings to replace them with Pinot Noir clones from scratch. The result, as we’ve seen is a less Burgundian style, and yet a more fruit forward, higher in alcohol, new world model. Yuck! Even some Sauvignon Blanc growers, at one point, aged and fermented their wine in oak—simply to appeal to the “Chardonnay drinker”. Sauvignon Blanc in oak?? My great grandfather without doubt turned over in his grave. If those aren’t lessons in reactive marketing, than I’m not sure what would be.

I have enjoyed finding that sometimes the opinion of the neophyte trainee is, as it should be, just as relevant as the so called “expert”. We all have different physiological and olfactory signatures- and from those differences can come, varied experiences or ‘tastes’ with the same exact wine. The challenge is to stick to your guns and recognize that you (and your members) have a profile of fondness and inclination that should be nurtured. It isn’t that black and white really; but I guess like any other truly subjective forms of art or language— that’s what makes it all so special to begin with. Now some of us have had those epiphanies, those times where as a beginner, intermediate, or expert; we just close our eyes and say; “Yes! That is a wine that I adore”. For me it was a 1986 Bouchard Aine & Fils Pommard. That is when I started to truly understand terroir in French Wines. Our goal as professionals, tasters, trainers, and even salespeople to a certain extent isn’t to hand-hold or arm-twist but to encourage and educate.

In tasting, it is sometimes advantageous to start with the likes of Viognier and Riesling as they can be easier to comprehend compared to a malolactic Chardonnay or a dry Sauvignon Blanc from the Loire. On the other side of the coin, try Zinfandel and Merlot, rather than heading straight to the tannic young Cabernet Sauvignon, for starters. Tasting wine is a fundamentally important act in learning about wine. And yet, nothing goes further, hand in hand with tasting, as some scholarship and research on each varietal. A fellow wine-guy and a mentor to me in many ways, often used music as a metaphor very effectively. Not all of us like classical music, but through some marginal, even accidental exposure to the likes of Wagner, Strauss and Vivaldi, we know what to expect of it, and more importantly we know when we are "hearing" an example of classical music. Conversely, I may not like hip-hop or most Californian Merlot, but I know from publicity and exposure; when I hear or taste either of the two. Further; I personally don’t own a Christina Aguilera CD, but I know a talented and respected R&B artist when I hear one. In other words, by learning about and revealing ourselves to- the inherent qualities of each of the major varietals (or genres of music)…we are able to construct a bridge between what the experts wax poetic about, and what we have right in front of us. A little reading goes a long way.

So as it is, once we’ve developed and celebrated our own tastes, it is imperative that we let those tastes change on their own from time to time—rather than be led by corporate or ‘more expert’ influences. And when someone asks us a question about wine, let us not give a quick answer, but let us listen first. And more importantly, when the time comes that we ask ourselves questions about wine, let us not lean on the crutch of the latest Robert Parker-like scripts and praise, but rather let's pick up a more objective source (like, say, Hugh Johnson), along with a glass and turn the volume to 11.