L’Chayim: A novice learns about wine

By Simone Ellin

I am in the carpool line again. While I sit waiting for my daughter to emerge from the school building, I listen to a public radio interview with a woman who edits a popular wine magazine. It seems she will soon host her own television show on the food network.

I am the last person to turn down a glass of wine (any glass of wine, really) but as I listen to the interview, I catch a glimpse of myself in the rear view mirror. I am rolling my eyes. See, here’s the problem…I don’t really get the whole “wine tasting as art” thing. When I hear people going on about the “woodsy,” “full bodied,” “barrel-aged” and “smooth finish” of this chardonnay or that merlot, I always feel like gagging.

I know it’s not sophisticated, but I can’t help wondering: Am I the only one that feels as if I am part of an “Emperor’s New Clothes” scenario, where no one is admitting that wine drinking is just a lovely way to get buzzed and all this business about wine tasting as high art is a bunch of bunk? There! Now I’ve said it.

I’ve been thinking. Why not find out what (if anything) I’ve been missing? A wine tasting experiment sounds like a seriously worthwhile project, one I can see through to completion. There must be plenty of skeptics too ashamed of their palettes’ poor pedigrees to admit to reservations about the “art” of wine tasting.

So, on a recent Sunday evening, I visit Diwine Spirits, a local wine and spirits establishment owned by Ron Raich. On this night, Raich and his associates are hosting a kosher wine tasting for customers.

I come clean immediately. My ignorance about wine is trumped only by my ignorance about kosher wine. “What is it,” I ask sheepishly, “that makes wine kosher?”

Chaim Silverberg, Diwine’s designated wine pourer for the evening, explains that only Sabbath-observant Jews are allowed to come in contact with the wine. That’s where Silverberg’s job comes in. Reich then lends me “Rogov’s Guide to Israeli Wines 2009” (The Toby Press) and explains, “Grapes are harvested using particular agricultural standards that ensure kashrut even before they mature and reach the winery.” (For specifics from Rogov’s book, go to the iNSIDER pages at jewishtimes.com .)

Tonight’s tasting is full of young Jews in their twenties and early thirties. Amy Fink says she comes to as many tastings as she can.

“I just started trying wines and formed my own opinions. It’s hard to put words on the differences between the wines. While I’m okay with fruity ones, I don’t like wine that’s too sweet. I pay attention to descriptions and I’ll say, ‘I like this; what’s similar?’”

Erin Coleman, 29, of Pikesville, says she and her husband like to experiment with wines for their home and for gifts. “I come from a non-kosher background,” says Coleman, who is now observant. “It’s good to know that nowadays there are all kinds of kosher wines. I like wine that is complex, has a strong taste and aftertaste. And just because a wine is expensive,” she adds, “doesn’t mean it’s always good.”

I soon learn that Manischewitz, the glorified grape juice of Jewish holiday wine drinking I’ve grown up with, has been replaced by Moscato d’Asti, described by one young woman as “sprite with a kick.” Yet, most of the wine-tasters at Diwine shun Moscato d’Asti in favor of the many high quality wines I’m told are being sampled here this evening.

The next thing I learn is that there are two types of kosher wines: mevushal and non-mevushal. Mevushal wines are wines that have been pasteurized so that in the event that a non-observant Jew should come into contact with the wine, it will retain its kosher status.

“How does kosher wine compare to non-kosher wine?,” I ask. Marlon Delgado, former sommelier for Cindy Wolf’s Charleston restaurant, who was at the tasting, says that in most cases, non-mevushal wine or carefully processed mevushal wine is comparable in quality to non-kosher wines.

The Tasting

Tonight, I’m told, we are tasting Galil Mountain Viognier 2007, Yarden Odem Chardonnay 2007, Galil Mountain Shiraz 2006, Galil Mountain Yiron Blend 2005 and Teperberg Silver Late Harvest Riesling 2006. These are all Israeli wines.

Despite writers’ reputations for drinking and writing at the same time, I am finding it challenging to write down everything I am learning about wine tasting while I taste. Also, I’m trying to remind myself to pour out the contents of my glass after each sip. This is becoming more difficult, but I do my best.

My favorite white is the Yarden Odem Chardonnay. This wine’s description reads: “Nose of butter, honey, hazelnut and cream. Woodsy on the palate, with candied apple, tropical flavors and rounded creamy tones, a hint of copper penny minerality and a lingering finish of Golden Delicious apple.”

That’s a mouthful, huh? And yet … it does taste different than the other white wines and I can definitely identify at least some of the flavors in the description.

Carol Rinke, 32, of Pikesville agrees. “Yes,” she remarks after tasting the Chardonnay, “I taste the apricot and I can smell the flowers.”

Meanwhile, Raich has broken out a bottle of Chateauneuf Du Pape from Domaine des 3 Cellier 2007. Here’s my chance to see if I can tell the difference between a $20 bottle and a $50 bottle.

At my request, Raich instructs me on how to taste. First he shows me how to judge a wine’s quality by its appearance. As Raich explains, and Delgado confirms, red wines should range from “bright cherry red to almost black” in color, while white wines are usually “a light golden straw color” but “can range from almost colorless to deep golden.”

No matter the color, says Rogov’s book, “the wine should be perfectly clear.” Wines that have sediment initially should be clear once the sediment settles.

After evaluating a wine’s appearance, one should next smell the wine, Raich instructs. “It surprises many to realize,” writes Rogov, “that people with a normal sense of smell can identify more than 1,000 different aromas.”

I ask Raich why people “shake their glasses around before they smell them.” He explains that prior to smelling a wine, it is best to swirl one’s glass for a few seconds in order to release complex chemicals in the wine to yield its bouquet, or aerate it, thereby releasing the fruit in order to experience the fullest aroma.

He tells me to put my nose inside of my glass and to inhale as deeply as possible. With enthusiasm rivaled only by a kid in a candy shop, Raich explains that “unlike other beverages such as beer or spirits where different flavors are added to provide different aromas and taste, wine has no flavor additives and all of its aromas occur naturally due to different chemical compositions of the grape.

When they smell wines, Rogov advises tasters to “consider whether the wine smells as youthful or as mature as it appears to the eye, whether the aromas are smooth and harmonious, … and whether they are simple or complex.”

Once one has looked and smelled the wine, Rogov suggests that the taster “take a good mouthful, close the lips firmly and swirl the wine vigorously in order to coat the entire mouth. This is important,” he says, “because different taste sensations are perceived by different parts of the mouth.” When tasting the wine, pay attention to whether the flavors seem in agreement with the wine’s aromas.

White wines, he says, should smell and taste like citrus, apple, melon, pear, peach, apricot, grapes; in the case of dessert wines, dried fruits. There may be hints of grassiness, honey and a creamy sensation, he says. Red wines, says Rogov, may include flavors of black and red currants, plums and a variety of berries. Reds may also taste of chocolate, coffee and tobacco.

Meanwhile, I am liking the $50 bottle. My mouth feels very dry and I can taste and smell berries. As far as the more subtle qualities of the wine are concerned, I am way over my head. Still, I can see that there is more going on with this wine than there was with some of the others. There’s certainly more to it than the cheap bottles I usually pick up just because I like the price, name, or because it has a pretty label.

As the evening wanes, I feel there is much to learn. One tasting is not nearly enough to get to the bottom of the question I have set out to answer. I resolve to return for more tastings. Of one thing I am now convinced — all wines are not created equal.

Raich’s final piece of advice may be the most salient. “Whatever flavors or aromas you might pick up in your wine tasting, it is most important that you enjoy exploring the tradition of wine.

L’chayim, y’all!

November 2009