A Dance to the Music of Wine

If you think tasting wine is fun, read the following instructions (from Wijnproeven voor beginner en gevorderde [Wine Tasting for Beginners and Advanced] by Robert Leenaers and Albert Holtzappel (2000)—silly title, by the way, it’s either or):

‘One tastes better with an empty stomach (…) a serious tasting should preferably start in the morning, before lunch. (…) Coffee before the tasting is not recommended. (…) Eating during the session is out of the question. (…) Bread is less dangerous due to its lighter taste, but remains undesirable.’

And on they go about the right place (kitchen), light (daylight), colours (white, walls too), odour (none whatsoever) and sound (talking is allowed during ‘designated moments’ only, no music, no other noises). Needless to say swallowing is prohibited and the spittoon should not contain sawdust (odour!).

Not an event to invite one’s friends to.

Some of these prohibitions are quite understandable. One cannot taste next to someone smoking a cigar or exuding whiffs of Chanel No. 5. Not to swallow the wine is good advice and not only because of that empty stomach. And people talking can be a nuisance (‘Have you tasted that red one, nr. 7, no, nr. 8, yet? Oh, you’re still doing the whites? Well, I thought this one to have way more tannins than the last one and that’s odd, as…’). One needs to concentrate.

Music not only undermines your ability to concentrate but also interferes with other sensory perceptions. It may even cause irritation and lead to a negative judgement, Leenaers and Holtzappel argue.

Prof. Adrian C. North goes one step further. In his ‘The Effect of Background Music on the Taste of Wine’ (2011, on which I stumbled via an article in the WSJ) he shows that students rated a wine more Zingy/Fresh while listening to Zingy/Fresh music and more Mellow/Soft if listening to Mellow/Soft music.

So a glass of Beaujolais Nouveau with Nirvana in my ears would taste like an oak-barrelled Australian monster, I guess. But would it to everyone? You may want to be careful if you think you have just found a way to upgrade your lesser-quality wines. According to North ‘music can only be an effective influence on perception to the extent that its communicative intent is understood by participants’. That means that an average, OK wine tasted to the sound of Byrd’s ‘Mass for Five Voices’ would be rated ‘rather dull’ by someone who is more into symphonic music and ‘subtle, refined’ by an admirer of so-called early music.

But then it is not just music that influences one’s appreciation of a wine. In March this year I was offered a Pinot Grigio with a Vitello Tonato (see my A Perfect Wine List). Though it paired all right with the Vitello, I thought not much of it. Last month I was poured the same wine. Same restaurant, same company, same ‘after a day of hard work’, but this time it was a gorgeous summer evening and we were sitting outside. The Pinot Grigio turned out to be an almost frivolous, zesty wine with a fresh-fruity nose.

Leenaers and Holtzappel do have a point—for the professional taster, that is.

A Perfect Wine List

If you were in a restaurant and the wine list contained some fine Champagnes, South-African, New Zealand and Loire Sauvingnon Blancs from renowned wine makers, an astonishing choice of German, Austrian and Alsatian Rieslings, several Grüner Veltliners, Chardonnays from all over the world, Gewurztraminer from Alsace and New Zealand, dry and sweet Bordeaux wines—and that would only be the white wine section—what would you do?

I’d ask for the menu, just to check if it contains anything but Leviathan, as I would probably be dead.

A wine list of this sort only exists in heaven, and in the mind of Jamie Goode. It’s a fun list, and as with any personal list, it may lead to animated discussion. Though maybe less animated in Burgundy (“I could just about live without Burgundy [Pinot Noir]”), Bordeaux (“I’m not sure where [red] Bordeaux would figure”), and some Spanish regions (“I can’t see Rioja or Ribero del Duero getting a look in”). Unfortunately Jamie Goode doesn’t reveal what kind of restaurant he was thinking of, let alone what dishes would accompany his wines of choice. On the other hand, with such an extended list, what dish would not find a pairing wine?

Now it is one thing to have a wine list in your mind’s eye, but (at least for me) quite another to be honoured with a try-out of candidates for a new real life wine list. My favourite local restaurant may be just that: a restaurant cherished and favoured within a 10 mile zone, their wine list covering the entire world: France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Austria, Morocco, Israel, Lebanon, Argentina, New Zealand, South Africa, United States and Chili. It needed a small refurbishment, as menu’s do every now and then. Spouse and I had just sat down for a quick dinner, rather tired after a hard day’s work and looking forward to an early night. Before we could order the boss brought out his best glass ware, poured a Menetou-Salon and asked us if we would like to taste a few wines with our dinner that he felt might have a place on the new wine list. It wasn’t a question really and we were happy to oblige. So we spent the evening sniffing, chewing, tasting, discussing. No early night, but revived all the same.

 

Menetou-Salon, Domaine de Loury, Belles Roches 2011, 12,5% alc

Great wine for an aperitif that will also go well with not too heavy fish dishes. This Loire Sauvignon Blanc has a vivid nose without the cat’s pee of its neighbours. Tastes of gooseberry, yellow apples, pear and something grassy. Zesty with an agreeable roundness.

 

Picpoul de Pinet (of which I forgot to pen down the details)

I thought it smelled of acetone and didn’t taste it. Spouse called it ‘medicinal’ and said the wine was unremarkable on its own, but suited the sesame madeleines and Thai basil that accompanied her tartare of tuna, less the tartare itself.

 

Pinot Grigio, Tiefenbrunner 2011 (Alto Adige)

I am always surprised how different a Pinot Grigio is from a Pinot Gris. One probably shouldn’t compare the two. This Pinot Grigio, made by a well-known North-Italian winemaker, has an, I quote Mr Tiefenbrunner, ‘unobtrusive bouquet.’ Though it had the difficult task to make me forget the Menetou-Salon—it failed—I must admit it paired better with the vitello tonato, due to its freshness and acidity.

 

Sequillo 2011, Swartland, South Africa, 14,5% alc

This blend of, hold on, Chenin Blanc, Palomino, Semillon Blanc, Grenache Blanc, Semillon Gris, Viognier, and Clairette was served with a grilled white fish on a puree of chickpeas. It could have passed for a Southern Rhône if the Chenin Blanc wouldn’t have given it away. Neither fined nor filtered, the bottle warns you in bold type. I like that. Exciting wine. Tropical fruit with a certain freshness, full-bodied but not fatty. A pity that it contains so much alcohol. And mind you, they reduced the alcohol level in this vintage.

 

Domaine de Piaugier, Gigondas 2010, Marc Autan et Fils, Sablet, 14,5% alc

This young Gigondas desperately needed the proteins of Spouse’s rib-eye to soften its tannins, even with the bottle open for two hours. A fruity yet full-bodied wine. Quite some alcohol, but balanced. Hope we’ll see it on the list in two years.