The Flowering of Wine

When contemplating the question, what does good pinot noir smell and taste like, it is extraordinary how when you look through a couple of dozen reference sources, so few actually have anything substantive to say on the issue at all. Most immediately slide into the history and geography of Burgundy, the classification of the vineyards etc etc. Sometimes they mention in passing that burgundy/pinot noir is different from bordeaux/cabernet/merlot, but they do not try to put into words why. Few come to the point of characterising the wine. Geoff Kelly, Geoff Kelly Wine Reviews.

The many and varied perfumes of flowers are used frequently in descriptions of the aroma and bouquet of wines. The words used range from the somewhat generic descriptor floral to specific types of flowers like Violet or Géranium. Tom Stevenson lists 15 different flower aromas in his mind-jogging list of aromas and flavors, and that list is by no means complete because it seems that each wine critic has his/her own terminology. One very famous critic uses the term “white flowers” for Australian Shiraz, White Burgundy, and even French Riesling. Doesn’t seem very specific does it? Having spent part of last weekend helping Miranda trim and weed our, sorry her, garden I can state that white flowers, as an aroma, is almost as generic as floral. I smelt white flowers on arugula that needed to be trimmed so it would not go to seed, on several of our citrus trees and even some of the flowering weeds that I was told to remove from a neighbor's yard; with permission, of course. Not a Shiraz among them!

Why the seemingly sudden interest in floral descriptors? Well it is all the fault of the latest article on Geoff Kelly’s Wine Reviews web site. Geoff is, to my mind, the most analytical of all wine critics/writers. He goes after the minutiae of wine especially the smell; for me this is an excellent quality in a wine drinker. And to him “the key factor in fine pinot noir is the quality of bouquet, and in particular the precise floral qualities”. The problem is that Geoff has his own descriptors for Pinot Noir like buddleia in the lighter styles to boronia in wine from riper grapes. I’m no gardener, just the gardener’s helper, so I asked Miranda what was the smell of buddleia and boronia. She said she had heard of them but did not know the smell. I was nosing a 2005 Russian Hill Meredith Vineyard Pinot Noir * at the time and it really would have been helpful to know if the aromas were anywhere near what Geoff seeks in perfect Pinot because this wine was overflowing with what I call the typical aromas of this variety. But I’m like Michael Broadbent when it comes to describing the aroma of Pinot, I find it impossible and I usually resort to something like “spicy Pinot Noir”, and then go looking for forest floor or mushrooms because I’m pretty sure I know those smells. OK, reasonably sure! At least I think………

Now I don’t know whether Geoff is correct in his floral descriptions of Pinot but I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s not likely to be too far wrong. He’s also not wrong in another comment that he made regarding Pinot – “what does good pinot noir smell and taste like, it is extraordinary how when you look through a couple of dozen reference sources, so few actually have anything substantive to say on the issue at all.” I don’t disagree at all. In fact you could replace Pinot Noir by Merlot or Syrah or Tempranillo or Malbec, or just about any grape variety and the conclusion holds true. Most grape varieties don’t have distinctive aromas especially if you look at them across broad geographical regions. For example, the aromas of Syrah/Shiraz from the Rhone and the Barossa can be astonishing different, and even within those two regions, the wines can show an amazing spectrum of aromatic characters.

Is it really necessary, in the appreciation of wine, to correctly identify the smell of a particular variety such as Pinot Noir? Well if charming or ethereal or even feminine fit with how you see Pinot Noir, then I guess not. Me? I’m going to take Geoff Kelly’s advice and spend more time in gardens. Not only will that please Miranda but I might just learn quite a bit about the smell of wine.

* Disclaimer: My wife Miranda has a long standing friendship with the wife of the winemaker for Russian Hill Estate winery, and we consider both personal friends. For me to review their wines may be perceived as a conflict of interest by some which is why I try not to mention the wines on my blogs. I make an exception in this case because the wine mentioned above was the wine that stimulated, in part, this post.

Judging Syrah, and the Syrah Ripening Curve

Geoff Kelly, the noted New Zealand wine academic and writer, has updated his notes on Judging Syrah, and the Syrah Ripening Curve. Anyone interested in Syrah/Shiraz will find this little contribution overflowing with information on Syrah, not only as it relates to New Zealand but Syrah/Shiraz in general. His listing of the aroma profile of Syrah as it ripens to physiological maturity should be memorized by all Syrah lovers, and detractors as well!

Its no secret that Geoff Kelly is Eurocentric in his wine preferences – he would say he favors the “mellow beauty” of wine. This makes him no lover of Australian Shiraz, but this in no way detracts from the knowledge readers can gain from his all too infrequent writings.

Scoring

I’m one of those individuals who likes to take notes when I drink wine. I believe that putting down my impressions of a wine in written form helps focus my powers of vision, smell and taste; helps me appreciate the wine. A tasting note is what I like to think of as one part of a complete wine experience and, importantly, it is an aid to remembering the taste and smell of the wine. I’m also a wine drinker who likes to compare wines. Yes, I’ll even taste multiple wines in one sitting and, God forbid, I’ll even rank them in order of how my palate perceives their quality. And just to add insult to injury I’ll give the individual wines a score. After all wine, to me, is a beverage and even though some may try to argue the point, not all wines are the same. In fact very few wines are the same. And even though a wine may provide great pleasure (even intense disgust) resulting in an emotional response I don’t view wine with the same emotional attachment that a film, or a painting, or a book may evoke. Yes, I’ve admired the bottle, read the label, become one physically with the cork (or screwcap), appraised its color and legs, and maybe even viewed enticing pictures of video about it in cyberspace.

But I’ve also smelled and tasted it. I’ve taken in too much information for a simple like or dislike response, or even an emotional association with some pleasurable event in my life. During the viewing, smelling and tasting I’ve been accommodating an entirely new combination of attributes recorded by my senses, and fitted them into a new space in the wine library in my brain. And to help me recall that experience I’ve documented the smells and tastes. I’ve put my senses through a series of tough hurdles, trying to discern if its plum, blueberry, blackberry or mulberry that is the predominant aroma. And is there a little bit of vanilla here, perhaps a hint of violets, and maybe just a few molecules of Brett! I’m not being subjective. I’m forcing my senses to be as objective as they can be. An objectivity gained by over 30 years of absorbing as much written knowledge about wine that I can, collecting wine, comparative wine tasting, visiting wine regions and talking with winemakers, even trying to make sense of Robert Parker’s tasting notes. I’ve invested too much into this mad pursuit to wax lyrical about a wine, comparing it to a summer’s breeze or a woman’s breast. I want to score it! I want to give it some credibility with its peers. Place a number on it, give it a medal. Not frame it on a wall, or confuse its qualities by comparing it to a subjective, emotional fragment of existence that only I may have experienced.

And so I score, and score, and score. Wine deserves to be scored, some wines call out for a really BIG score. Others whimper, and accept a lesser accolade; both they and I know they deserve it. I trust my senses of sight, smell and taste so I know I’m correct in my judgment. OK, I will go back through the wines again, from least to best, just to confirm the agreement of my palate with the ranking I’ve recorded.

But how do I score wine? Those who read my Tasting Notes blog know I score out of 20 and then convert that to 100 by simple multiplication. Out of respect for Dan Murphy, a wine taster has to give a score out of 100. Yes, I know that my inactivity with the TN blog means that fewer and fewer of you visit there, but who knows I may want to share all my hard work scoring with you again, so be patient.

Do I need to use just numbers? No, I could score with stars, or medals, or any other method as long as it can provide an objective ranking, none of this subjective imagery. Of course all the forms of ranking should be comparable. How is that done? Its very simple really, you steal someone else’s graphic of wine scoring. I’m going to steal Geoff Kelly’s. Why? Because it actually makes sense. I look at it and think yes, that fits neatly with being objective about wine. That is a thoughtful, clear assessment of how wine ranking methods compare.