Yeast Q&A with Hanzell's Consulting Winemaker

First, please forgive the lapse in posting. I've been "out sick." Now, back to our regularly scheduled program... I read an interesting round-table discussion about yeast in a 2006 WineBusiness.com interview with Michael Terrien, Peter Anderson, and Larry Biagi. I had a few questions of my own about the role of native yeast in wine-making, so I contacted Mr. Terrien to get his thoughts. Michael is currently Consulting Winemaker with Hanzell Vineyards.

SLG: I've visited Sonoma and Napa during crush a couple of times and noticed that the entire valley seems to become saturated with the aroma of yeast at that time of year. I also noticed the same aroma coming off the nose of several wines I sampled there last October.

What can you tell me about how yeast affects the aromas in wine, and what do you make of this similarity I noted between the smell in the glass and in the air?

MT: Wine is made from grapes and yeast. Often, it is aged in barrels too. It should not surprise you to smell the aroma of yeast in the bottled wine, no more than finding it is possible to identify the ingredients of grapes and oak. The first responsibility of the yeast is to turn the grape sugars into alcohol. The wonderfully aromatic bi-products of this metabolism contribute to the identity of wine, from fruity esters to funky sulfides.

SLG: Are you aware of whether any study has been done in Sonoma County to determine which ambient yeast strains wafting through the valley during harvest/crush are dominant, and whether commercial strains are dominant outside of the cellar? If not, do you see such data as being pertinent?

MT: I am not aware of such as study in Sonoma, but Sonoma County is enormous and encompasses great diversity both in climate and soil type. If don't believe a survey of wine-yeast would turn up county-wide dominant strains that are any different than in other wine-growing regions, but it might be possible to isolate some unique ones. But I think I understand what you are getting at: have industrially-produced yeasts affected native fermentations outside the wineries that use them? I suspect so. This would only matter to those winemakers who claim their wines are unique because of the yeast.

SLG: How big a factor do you think yeast is compared to other factors such as soil, in the outcome of the final product in terms of flavor and complexity?

MT: Yeast can and do influence wine flavor (as well as color and mouthfeel) to some degree, but it isn't usually the only source of difference. An extreme counter-example is a wine that has fermented with a yeast called Brettanomyces. The aromatic compounds resulting from such spoilage can be truly disgusting, with a bouquet of horse manure. But by and large the results of fermentation with the acceptable wine yeasts in the Saccharmoyces family are modest in comparison. In my experience there are far more influential factors on a wine than the yeast: vineyard and vintage are both readily apparent in a wine more so than yeast; and certainly farming practices such as leaf-removal or winemaker decisions such as whole-cluster maceration or the proportion of new oak can be observed in the final wine while the yeast choice is at best a point of speculation.

SLG: Why do some wine-makers choose to ferment with various native strains separately and then blend later? What limitations do you see with that technique?

MT: Each fermentation vessel, be it a tank of barrel, is its own unique environment. The native flora resident in the inside surface of the vessel, or residing on the grapes will compete for the nutrients in must. Some microbes will defeat others, and flavors will diverge from what one might assume casually are identical fermentations. With these divergent fermentations a winemaker has more 'ingredients' to work with when it comes time to assemble the blend. This level of attention is more likely associated with making small batches of wine. It is not scalable.

SLG: Please tell us a little bit about your wine-making philosophy and the main differentiators between your philosophy and the philosophies at both ends of the spectrum from zero manipulation to consistency through science.

MT: Hanzell has a well-deserved reputation for cellar-worthiness, both for the Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. The philosophy informing the winemaking techniques through the five decades of Hanzell's history has always been in service to this reputation. I think it is particularly fascinating to understand just how technologically inclined and innovative Hanzell's founder James Zellerbach and his winemaker Brad Webb were in the 1950s when they began.

Bob Sessions, who made the wines at Hanzell for 30 years up until quite recently, embraced the science and chose to honor his forebears by only carefully diverting from their practices. The implications are intriguing in many ways, but take this one subject of yeast: Hanzell's Chardonnay has always been inoculated with an isolate from Montrachet. The sensibility of craftsmanship would seemingly be at odds with the use of just such an industrially-produced yeast. However, at the time of Hanzell's first vintage in 1957, the goal was to reproduce the singular flavors of Burgundy, a feat that had not been accomplished in California.

Their foremost pursuit was to make a wine to compare favorably with the Grand Crus. Only one or two wineries in all of the New World were pursuing this goal and certainly no market demand prevailed to differentiate their wine from their competitors by native fermentation.

A little more background on Michael Terrien: After UC Davis, Michael joined Acacia where he worked for nearly a decade before going to Hanzell. Now, he has a number of clients he consults for on winemaking while circling a close orbit around Hanzell. Before moving to California, Michael lived in Maine where he was born and raised.

Ban on Cheesy French Wine Ads

I find pretty much all wine advertising cheesy but, if this ad is any indication of what TV viewers in France have endured, why should legislators stop at banning alcohol advertising on the internet? I wouldn't blame them if they banned wine ads completely! Si vulgaire! ;)

How to be a Perfect Wine

I've had a few really good technically perfect wines, and they always remind me of the body of a sports car; smooth, fluid, luxurious and seductive but, likewise, slightly impenetrable in their high-gloss gleam. They're nice, but for me, they don't necessarily provide what I'm looking for in a great wine. I suppose you could call what I'm after "character" but, then again, I don't want to say a Ferrari wine doesn't have character. Although, I did say on Twitter the other day that in terms of wine, I'd prefer a gypsy housetruck to a Ferrari... I guess what I'm really looking for in a great wine is the unfolding of a narrative hitherto unimagined. I prefer a mystery machine.

I know I’m not the first one to ponder perfection versus personality in wine (or art) but, I think the notion bears repeating. I’m sure a lot of us have heard similar comparisons drawn between wine and music, such as, what is more stirring, a technically perfect execution of a Mozart concerto, or an emotional interpretation? I guess it's debatable. The other night on NPR for example, classical music critic Tom Manoff praised pianist Andras Schiff for not "wallowing" in emotion and for letting Beethoven's music shine through...

Anyway, I’m all for perfection in machines and other man-made structures; cars, blenders, architecture, government, etc. Yeah, I know wine is “man-made” to a point, but I prefer to think of a winemaker more as the steward of the grape’s transition from soil to fermented juice, and less as the designer--even if economic pressures render that vision somewhat compromised in reality. Ideally though, the job of the winemaker is to facilitate this transformation, with the goal of allowing the wine to achieve its fullest expression without training it to some predetermined blueprint. Oh sure, intervention may still be called for if the juice hits a crisis along it’s way, but other than that, it’s allowed to be who it is, and who it is is for it to know, and us to find out. That's what I really mean when I say I prefer a one-of-a-kind rambler of a wine to a precision performance wine...

Or maybe it's just that, deep down, I'm a sucker for a sweet tricked out conversion van.

Image by: Nambassa Trust and Peter Terry

The Bionic Nose

Researchers at Virginia Tech are experimenting to determine whether the electronic nose (hereafter referred to as the nose) is a valid tool for wine discrimination and analysis. The test involved wines made from Cabernet Sauvignon grapes that had received different doses of pre-harvest/post-bloom aqueous ethanol treatments which increase flavor and aroma development. The purpose was to see whether the nose could tell them apart: It could. The nose didn’t do any better than chemical analysis but it is supposedly cheaper—promising results for the nose. Meanwhile, the panel of sensory testers (ordinary human noses) could not detect the difference...

All this makes me wonder: How did the wine industry come up with the chemical/olfactory quality benchmarks that are used to evaluate wine? I could be wrong but, I’m guessing the benchmarks came from wines that are known by human experience to be exceptional. In other words, people decide what’s good wine not some bomb-sniffing machine. But, you say, “wine-makers utilize chemical analysis to evaluate wines everyday—it’s a tool of the trade—quality assurance.” I can’t deny that. I just don’t think that hitting your mark for pH, TA, alcohol, etc is all there is to creating a great wine. It’s more of a guideline to quote a certain Disney pirate. Wine is subjective and should be subjective—just like life. Usually it’s the surprises that make it worthwhile.

What's in a California Cult Cab?

I was fully prepared not to love this wine. I knew there was a good chance it would display evident oak, plush “busty” fruit, and spray-tan perfection…

What did I expect? Deep down, I was secretly hoping to be blown away by this pricey bottle of Napa Cabernet Sauvignon. After all, Cab is my comfort wine. I’m a displaced California girl and California wine is at the heart of my earliest experiences and love for wine. I have certain nostalgia for the full, fruity deliciousness of California wine.

The wine: Nicholls 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon produced and bottled at CrushPad, San Francisco. This is Nicholls’ flagship wine featuring fruit sourced from one of “Super grower” Andy Beckstoffer’s properties: Dr. Crane Vineyard. We ordered this bottle in late January out of curiosity to see what Crushpad’s clients are making. At that time this wine was retailing for $55 but, when I checked back recently it was up to $85$65(*see comments section). The Nicholls 2005 Pinot Noir took gold at the 2008 SF Chronicle Wine Competition.

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”
To be fair, we should have decanted this bottle. As it is, the first aroma off the first glass was oak. There was other stuff there too: cherry, cassis, vanilla, plum, blackberry, and a little pepper. This wine was certainly perfect right from the start (except for the slightly obtrusive oak). Great balance, yummy fruit, etc, yet, I felt a little like I was having dinner with a starlet: Good bones, perfect nails, hair and make-up, pleasant conversation but, is there anything else there? Are we likely to get a glimpse of the soul of this wine? [Resisting urge to insert photo of Lindsay Lohan here. You're welcome]

Coaxing or Hoaxing?
Craig Camp recently posted a great blog entry: Debating the Points: Spoofulation. The centerpiece of the post is an article by Clark Smith defending (quit deftly) manipulation in wine-making. Among the salient points are A) no wine-maker is going to let a batch go to pot if there is something that can be done to save it, and B) there is ‘spoofulating’ wine, and there is using the tools of the trade to tease out the nuances of the terroir. Ironically, I think the argument made by Clark Smith, Wine Villian could be applied to what was going on with a flight Châteauneuf du Pape we tasted last weekend. Several of the wines had characteristic subtleness of fruit which allowed the minerality to shine, and in order to achieve that result in the face of rising temps and brix in the region, the traditional wine-making technique was tweaked a bit. Conversely, we also tasted some traditionally made Châteauneuf du Pape which was getting closer to a New World style in the glass. That is to say: riper fruit, less minerality, and in some cases more oak.

I Don’t Know How They Did it
So, I tried the Nicholls again a couple of days later (and after tasting 9 Côtes du Rhône wines). Again, I noticed a sort of glossy perfection but, this time my reaction was a little different. The oak overtures had completely dissipated and I no longer felt aware of adjusted acidity, and smoothed edges. Now, there was a cool wet stone aroma and a slight wisp of mustard atop the underlying fruit. Now, on the palate, I began to notice more nuance; the balance and structure is phenomenal; maybe this fruit actually possessed some level of innate perfection to begin with before the wine-maker ever touched it.

New Age Wine
I definitely don’t want to dis this wine. It didn’t rock my world like a Sperino Uvaggio but, it was good, and it benefited me to drink it. It totally balanced my yang. This wine was like getting a dose of Chinese medicinal bark and mushroom tea. I know many of my east coast friends are going “huh?” but, you Californians know what I’m talking about…

California is Like Nowhere Man
This wine definitely brings visions of Lexus SUVs, fashionable restaurant facades, and jazz tunes (Take 5), in other words, it has a sense of place and that place is California. So, I can’t resist the temptation to bring up the question of California ‘terroir’: Has anyone done a flight of Sonoma Cabs next to a flight of Napa Cabs and been able to discern which AVA the Cab was grown and vinified in? To those who argue that California has no terroir, here is a question for you: If there had never been any AOCs, and rules saying “this is how wine will be made in XYZ Village”, would you still be able to distinguish between a wine made in Saint-Emilion and one made in say, Castillion-la-Bataille without a unifying conformity in the wine-making practices? Would these places still possess their own ‘terroir’?

Questions of Taste

Taste noun

1. The sense that distinguishes the sweet, sour, salty, and bitter qualities of dissolved substances in contact with the taste buds on the tongue. 2. A personal preference or liking: a taste for adventure. 3. The faculty of discerning what is aesthetically excellent or appropriate.

I had been pondering the subject of taste as it relates to wine enjoyment and enthusiasm lately. Then, just today, I read a very good article titled Scents and Sensibility in the New Yorker that completely summed up and clarified this whole topic of taste for me. The author John Lancaster, illustrates why taste descriptions vary so widely, and more importantly, why that's perfectly ok. For one thing, taste is difficult to verbalize except by equating it to another known taste. So, someone who has experienced a similar taste in the past is better equipped to describe it later when they run into it again. Please, when you are done here go and read this article...

Scent Memory?
I recently tasted a South American Syrah that smelled exactly like someone ELSE’S grandma. In other words, it smelled like foreign grandma, which is to say, completely unfamiliar. When it comes to grandmas, familiarity is a desirable quality, therefore, this wine was quite unappealing to me. Have I ever smelled ‘unfamiliar grandma’? Perhaps, though I can’t say for sure—it was unfamiliar.

Romanticism vs. Science?
In his article, Lancaster quotes examples of “Romantic” tasting notes from Brideshead Revisited along with quotes from the pragmatic UC Davis professors Amerine and Roessler who seemed to be of the opinion that taste should be 100% quantifiable. To what end, I can’t be sure. Clearly, they are not tasting wine for enjoyment (granted UC Davis professors wouldn’t be sipping wine for enjoyment on the job). Evidently, the goal of this is to enable clear communication between wine producers and consumers as to what flavors will be found in the wine.

Yes…Do you have anything that tastes like The Last Unicorn? No? Ok, just give me a blueberry & cranberry with subtle vanilla notes--heavy on the blueberry and animali--with a finish of Ecuadorian dark chocolate (86% cacao), a wisp of smoke and a soupçon of cardamom...oh, and hold the brett, please.


From Scents & Sensibility

A trained nose can become very, very good at isolating these sensory experiences and matching them with the relevant molecules. Theoretically, every known odorant molecule could have an agreed descriptor. The descriptor wouldn't need to be in words: it could be a number, so that the wintergreen scent of methyl salicylate would be 172, say, and the garlicky odor of allicin would be 402. That would be the beginnings of a fully scientific language of taste - a joyless, inhuman prospect.

Lancaster also borrows some amusing quotes from a perfume critic which are wonderfully descriptive and I think, much more useful then a list of molecules--but, hey, that's me. So, what do you say? Is it time we 'agree to disagree' when it comes to taste?

Wine, Headaches, and Legislation

I was reading an article today titled Current Knowledge about the Presence of Amines in Wine† which explores the variability of concentrations of amines such as histamine in wine, and the factors that relate to possible regulatory legislation. Amines are basically the byproduct of the breakdown of amino acids. Amines are present in all living cells (playing an important role in the regulation of body temperature, etc) but also occur in fermentation and can be toxic in high concentrations. There is already legislation in the U.S. and Europe limiting the levels of well-known amine, histamine, in fish and cheese and apparently, some are calling for similar limits in wine.

Illegal Microbiology
I have mixed feelings about the legislation of food in general. My initial reaction to reading that there is a movement to legislate limits on an organic compound in wine was “keep your laws off my wine!” I have to admit though that when I began reading about compounds with names such as cadaverine, putrescine, and spermine (all with aroma profiles in keeping with their monikers) I was less opposed to the idea of someone removing these from my wine or inhibiting their formation altogether.

Stinky Cheese
To put it all in perspective though, the average cheese has 50 to 100 times more putrescine than the average red wine, and up to roughly five times more histamine. I was glad to see that the authors added further perspective by pointing out that there is a wide variation of histamine tolerance among individuals, and that the combination of histamine-rich foods, and/or digestive-tract uptake inhibiting drugs like AMOI blockers make it virtually impossible to guarantee that consumers won’t receive a toxic level of histamine absorption in relation to wine consumption. With histamine poisoning symptoms ranging from mild to severe (severe being migraine--ouch) it’s not exactly life threatening.

The Old Cab vs. Pinot Debate
By the way, anyone with histamine sensitivity would be interested to know that in the studies cited, Pinot Noir had higher levels of histamine than Cabernet Sauvignon. Of course, red wine has generally higher levels than white (the more contact with the lees the higher the concentration). Also, they found that the addition of bentonite clay to wine reduced the histamine by half. Do with that piece of data as you will (over the counter bentonite supplements are available.*)

The Real Cause of Wine Headache
Blog Tablas Creek posted an article earlier this year about wine-related headaches and histamines. As he pointed out, the much-maligned sulfites are not the root cause of most wine allergies and are a necessary component to wine-making for bacteria control which correlates with the Critical Reviews in Food Science and Nutrition article which cites research showing that the addition of SO2 restrains the formation of histamine.

So wine legislation bodies; which is it going to be: The “Contains Sulfites” labeling or a histamine limit? How about a happy medium like a “Histamine Content” label similar the percent of alcohol by volume label? This way people with histamine sensitivities can be aware of whether the bottle they are being offered will cause them discomfort. What do you think? Should a histamine limit be imposed on the wine industry?

Addendum: Let me be clear here, I am not proposing wine legislation. I am merely pointing out that certain existing legislation may be somewhat at odds with further legislation on naturally occuring wine compounds.

†Ancín-Azpilicueta, Carmen, Ana González-Marco, and Nerea Jiménez-Moreno. "Current Knowledge about the Presence of Amines in Wine." Critical Reviews in Food Science & Nutrition 48.3 (Mar. 2008): 257-275. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO.

*I am not a health care practitioner and do not promote the use of any remedies or cures FDA-approved or otherwise.

"Popular" Palate

Jeff at Good Grape recently posted an interesting article on Tim Hanni and the Budometer as covered in Wines and Vines. I love Jeff’s blog by the way. I admire his ability to effortlessly weave current topics from the Wine Media into a cohesive stream of consciousness dialogue; at once off-the-cuff and keenly insightful; with a knack for expressing a viewpoint without use of soapbox or dogmatism.

…Anyway…

Jeff points out that categorizing an individual’s palate might meet with some resentment:

I think most wine lovers, righteously, would bristle in self-defense—such is our wanton ways, not wanting to define our palates (or ourselves) while still reserving the right to pass empirical quality markers on wine.

He also astutely alludes to another human tendency which is that of presuming to define someone else’s tastes while maintaining our own anti-classification. I must admit my own culpability in this matter: I have made certain differentiations amongst coworkers at the office potluck based on who brought whoopee pies versus the butternut squash soup. And, why shouldn’t we? After all, we all have our own preferences and it’s only natural to share affinity with people of similar tastes. On the other hand, it can be all too easy to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

My lambasted ripe fruit
Why should it be that the fruit of a vine growing in a region enjoying a long ripening season should be reviled? Does it stem from our instinct to root for the underdog as Miles so influentially did in Sideways when he pontificated (by rote, I think) on the virtues of Pinot Noir?

Is it possible that one person could have the breadth of sensibilities to find virtue in both ripe fruit-forward New World style wine, as well as a trim and sophisticated Old World wine?

Taste and Wine
What makes great wine? Obviously, there is the basic potential in the juice derived from growing conditions, wine-making technique, etc. There is also the sensory aspect of it; the flavors and aromas; also textures. Then one can delve deeper into those elements to look at the basic chemical structure and the order and gradation of a limited set of flavonoids that are present in wine. Depending on the amplification, and order within the series of each flavor component, you get this flavor profile or that flavor profile. So, is that it? A series of flavors brought about by a particular soil/climate profile, and wine-making technique?

Divine Wine
Dr. Vino recently featured an article by Mike Steinberger The Greatest Wine on the Planet: An evocative piece on the ‘47 Cheval Blanc. Oddly enough, this legendary wine came about from a technically “defective wine from an aberrant year.” Also fascinating, is the fact that this vintage was a vast departure from the usual Bordeaux style as Michael notes in his article:

David Peppercorn, a British Master of Wine and Bordeaux specialist, first tasted the '47 Cheval in 1952 and says it was sublime even then. "It was delicious as a young wine," he told me, "with a wonderful sort of opulent texture that was very unusual for a Bordeaux in that day." The voluptuousness was a function of the 14.4 percent alcohol content, which at the time was off the charts for a Bordeaux.

A taste of the ’47 Cheval Blanc eludes Mr. Steinberger at first but, by the end of his documented adventure, he finally samples the lauded elixir and finds to his surprise that despite his heightened expectations, this wine is beyond comparison with any earthly wine in his experience.

Back to the question of what makes good or great wine: Perhaps wine is more than just a flavor/aroma profile, a technique, and a geographical origin. It could possibly be described as a sensory experience that goes beyond what we find on the palate. And to use a term bandied about by our laughable Sideways hero, a great wine is transcendent.

What does chewy mean anyway?

When I see it on a tasting sheet, I ask the pourer what it means. I get some interesting answers. “Well, it is a leather and tobacco quality that the wine has and it didn’t sell well, so we are changing the tasting notes.” Well, that’s not chewy.

Dr. Debs had an interesting post regarding wine-speak. Watching Frasier reruns, one may get the idea that wine aficionados are boorish snobs living in a world of their own, getting all excited about Chateau This and That while their more down to earth father pops open a cold beer.

In fact, my experience is quite the opposite. Wine people are actually down to earth, love what they are doing and are as personable as any other segment of the population.

But there is a terminology to wine. Can’t help it. Would it be as exciting if the reviews looked like this? “Purple liquid that tasted good. I smelled good too. 87”. No we need a vocabulary. "Dark ruby red wine with aromas of cherry, blackberry, black pepper and anise." So far, so good. "With sued-like tannins..." Okay, now you have a description for a Zinfandel. With a little practice, we learn what silky, sued and leather tannis are like in a wine. So tasting wine and comparing notes is important when learning.

One slang term I use is "packie". I try to remember to link to a definition to “packie” which is a Massachusetts term. Packie is slang for a package store or liquor store. I use this when I mean a little mom-and-pop corner liquor store that has beer, hard liquor and wine. This is in contrast to a wine shop. Here I mean a small wine store that specializes in wine. Then there is the big discount store. You get great deals, huge selections and discount prices.

To that degree, here is what I do when I come across a word I don’t understand. I get it defined. One of my favorite on-line places is www.onelook.com. This is a dictionary search engine that never lets me down.

Second, www.wikipedia.org. This is pretty good, but who know who put what were. I like to back this up with other on-line searches. In addition, to the right, we have Italian and French wine term links and a link to Robert Parker's glossary.

So what does “chewy” mean? You can find out here.

The Logic of Buying Wine

Or "Why I don't use a point system"
The people that score wine know wine. They know how it is made and they really do a very good job over all. The reader wants to know if the wine he is considering is going to be good or not. But the reader really wants to know whether he should buy a particular wine or not. I have used published points to help me get started when learning about new wine regions, so don't get the idea that I think points are bad.

Check this out. Forming a decision about a wine with Boolean two valued logic (yes or no, good or bad, right or wrong) is not how our decisions are formed. Even a three valued logic doesn’t quite describe the process either. "Yes, I want Merlot", "No, I don’t want Merlot" or "Maybe I want Merlot". And being stuck in a "Maybe" never gets anything done. Once you decide, “forget Sideways, I want Merlot”, you have flipped to a Yes state. If you decide No, then no it is.

I prefer an infinite valued logic, Yes at one end, No on the other and a full spectrum in between. For instance, you have a bottle of Merlot in front of you, you read the year, determine the producer and check for back for tasting notes. From your education and experience you conclude, “This is going to be good.” (High degree of Yesness.) Or you may say, “I don’t know, but I’m going to take a chance.” (More Yesness than Noness.) Or you may say, “I’m having flounder tonight, I think it will be too fruity, where is that Sauvignon Blanc?” (A high degree of Noness.) Or you may say, “Not even at gunpoint!”

In the end, you may do as I do… "Hey Taster B, what do you think of this one?” (Lots of Yesness, but need more data.)

And that brings me to topic:
Wine scores. I was just reading an article on large wineries producing small lots to tap into a growing market. “Robert Parker, Jr. rated the Louis Martini 2003 Lot No. 1 Cabernet Sauvignon 91 points, and Martini says the micro-winery's 2004 wines have also received high scores from Parker, though Wine Spectator rated the 2003 Lot No. 1 only 82 points.” “Holy subjective wine scores, Batman!”

Yes, I like Robert Parker, Jr. Yes, I pick up a copy of the Wine Spectator when I’m in the barber shop and read it cover-to-cover and think, “Why the hell don’t we get this?” And I really enjoy reading my fellow bloggers’ postings. Some score and some don’t.

Why don’t I score even a Thumbs Up or Thumbs Down? (You spotted that is Boolean logic, didn’t you?) It’s easy. I write about the wines that I care to share with people. If I have a wine that I didn’t like, I wouldn’t want to share it with my friends, which includes you for reading through this article which is drier than an Alsace Riesling. We work hard, life is too short to drink bad wine and it is certainly too short to blog about it.

In closing, I spend all day as an engineer assigning numbers to physical universe stuff. When I get home, I just want to enjoy my wine without pulling out the meters. Speaking of meters, you should see the cool wine thermometer Taster B gave me for Christmas! I wonder how the new loft cellar is working? Let's see, 2003 Chateau Carignan 61.8 deg F. 2003 Vendemmia Barbaresco, 61.9 deg F. Bergess Napa Valley Cab, 61.9 deg F...

Tick-tick-snap-tick, the Sound of the Future. (Say it taint so.)

I’ve been putting off this article for a month now. I think it is time I just bite the bullet and write it. It is much more fun to write about the last wine we discovered than to talk about problems. But it is part of what we are learning and therefore legitimate fodder for the blog.

Going into the wine store and selecting a wine, I still get the willies when I see a screw cap. I immediately think of Thunderbird, Annie Green Springs and Boones Farm. When I see a screw cap, it better have a jug wine under it, not my $23.00 bottle of Pinot Grigio!

Well, this is not the point. Producers are starting to push back against tainted wine. Wine drinkers are becoming more sophisticated and with today’s open communication lines, they are being less intimidated than in the past. “What if I complain to the sommelier about this wine and look like a fool?” Well, what if it isn’t earthy mushroom but wet cardboard and newspapers you smell? You may have a “corked” bottle. A bottle tainted with TCA (trichloroanisole).

TCA is a chemical produced by mold growing in a tainted cork. It is totally harmless, but it is detectable in one part per trillion! To put that in perspective, that is one drop of TCA for every 1,000,000,000,000 drops of wine. Most folks cannot detect this low of a level, but can detect 10 ppt. (In order to give you a sense of one part per trillion, this is like having your first name spoken once for one second in 43,000 years and you being able to hear it.)

In one case, TCA was blamed for an off-flavor component in eggs and broiler chickens. In that case, the chemical appears to have originated as a contaminant in feed and litter that was transformed to 2,4,6-TCA through microbial action. In the case of cork taint, it is presumed that 2,4,6-TCA originates from the chlorination of lignin [a wood component]-related compounds during chlorine bleaching in the processing of cork. (1 )

TCA poses no harm to humans, however it is the ruin of many a bottle. The cork industry will say that 7 in 1000 corks will foul a wine bottle, but the wine industry has claims as 1 in 10 bottles show some signs of being corked.

Wine Spectator reports the number typically ranges from 1 percent to 15 percent of all wines, depending on whether it comes from closure manufacturers, vintners or another source. Wine Spectator's Napa office tracks the number of "corky" bottles in tastings of California wines, and the percentage of defective corks routinely runs at 15 percent. At the magazine's California Wine Experience in 2004, the team of sommeliers who screened the wines for the seminars reported that the occurrence of “corky” bottles was 4 percent to 12 percent. The cork industry has a different estimate of cork failure: typically 1 percent to 2 percent.

TCA most frequently occurs in natural corks and is transferred to the wine in bottle from the cork closure. Other sources are pressure treated wood products and interaction with chlorinated chemicals. These non-cork generated TCA sources can find their way into vats, bottling equipment and through corks during aging. If a complete lot is contaminated, it is most likely the winery is contaminated, and that can spell disaster for the winery.

The presence of these compounds in cork can be associated with their use as wood preservatives and pesticides or with the use of chlorinated derivatives, commonly used as disinfectants of water, equipment, and work areas. Wineries must be constantly on the alert or a whole production lot could be lost. In order to eliminate whole lot contamination, wineries must rid themselves of pressure treated lumber products, some paints and sources of chlorine. Its sounds simple, but just try that in your home. This is why it is important to know your cellar contractor and know what materials are being used.

Mold Wars could be a solution?
There may be a biological solution to the problem. The use of Chrysonilia sitophila (a particular strain of mold) in cork stopper manufacture was studied and a simulation of the industrial processing of cork stoppers was performed. C. sitophila does not produce 2,4,6-trichloroanisole, guaiacol, or 1-octene-3-ol on cork slabs incubated for 66 days.(2) This approach is similar to using a dominate yeast in a fermentation or in the production of cheese.

Alternative Closures
There have been strides made by the cork industry, but we are seeing new types of closures come to the market place. Synthetic corks or Stelvin closures and screw caps are taking the lead in alternative closures.

The Stelvin closure can be engineered for optimal oxygen permeation, but may impart a chemical taste to the wine. The Stelvin closures also do not degrade in the environment, meaning that we will see them washing up on the beaches in the near future. Screw caps have been around for a while, but are resisted by consumers.

Engineering a closure for wine does have its challenges. Screw caps work well for Seven Up. You are not aging Coca-Cola. We do not know what will be the result of aging Bordeaux style wines with screw caps.

We just purchased a Ruffino 2005 Pinot Grigio and a Ruffino 2006 Pinot Grigio. The 2005 came with a composite cork, the 2006 with a screw cap. It is coming, maybe faster than we may want.

I’m sad, say it ain’t so. There is something that I like about opening a bottle of wine, the anticipation. Will the cork break? Will it be everything I hoped for? Were my instincts right? Will it go with dinner? Will Taster B like it? And the soft pop of the cork as it is pulled out of the bottle. The wine goes into the glass and the first swirl and sniff…ah, it’s going to be a good bottle.

It just ain’t going to be the same with a screw cap. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just being neurotic? And what about our children? Will they ever know the joy of popping open a good bottle of wine or will they think I’m being an old fart messing around with “Old Reliable?”

Will they ever hear the pop of a real cork or just tick-snap-snap-tick?

Refs:
(1) Science News 121.25 (19 June 1982): 409-409. EBSCO.

(2) Role of Chrysonilia sitophila in the quality of cork stoppers for sealing wine bottles, Pereira, et. al., Journal of Industrial Microbiology & Biotechnology (2000) 24, 256–261. EBSCO.

The Concept of Terroir

What is terroir? Of course, it’s a French word that literally translates to “soil” but beyond that, it seems to be indefinable. According to a 2007 article in New Scientist1, attendees of a 2006 viticulture conference at UC Davis attempted and failed to define the term.

The French have another phrase: “je ne sais quoi”… Now, I’m no Francophile but I think this concept can shed some light on the French concept of terroir.

I’ve seen the “terroir debate” characterized in many ways: globalization versus localization; science versus nature; industry versus tradition, but all of these characterizations can be reduced down to this simplicity- material versus intangible.

Science in viticulture and enology seeks to discover the building blocks and blueprint that will produce a consistent result, and Terroiristes attack what amounts to a materialistic approach on a variety of platforms. I don't happen to subscribe to the scientific approach with wine but, do some Defenders of Terroir go too far? Maybe Roger Scruton deriding globalization as a vehicle to ordinary drunkenness for the classless and mediocre is clouding the issue.2Perhaps, the reductio ad absurdum depiction of a brave new GM-wine world in a recent Economist article,where wine “tasting” is no longer necessary thanks to genetic sequencing data which tells you exactly what flavors are present in wine is too sardonic but, seriously though...what is the point if you break every thing down to the molecular level?

It’s tempting to go sci-fi at this point with musings on whether androids dream of Red Bordeaux... However, I think there is enough room between the extremes for me to comfortably occupy: Somewhere in the middle ground between gross generalization about drinkers of non-Terroir wine, and the obtuse insistence on defining terroir in scientific terms, there’s where you’ll find me; enjoying whatever good glass of wine I have the good fortune to drink.

1"Terroir." New Scientist 193.2592 (24 Feb. 2007): 54-54. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO.

2 Scruton, Roger. "In Defense of Terroir." American Spectator May 2007: 42+. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO.

Can’t Ship There from Here.

It’s an old New England witticism, particularly in Vermont where I hail from, “How do I get to Barre?” asks the stranger to the farmer. “Can’t get they-ah from he-ah.” “Well then,” protests the stranger, “where does this road go?” “Why, I’ve lived here for fifty-eight years, and it ain’t gone no-way'ah yet.”

On our trips to Sonoma, Paso Robles and the Russian River, we’ve been running into the problem of how much can we purchase and still get it home. Since our state is so difficult to ship to, many of the small producers we visit cannot direct ship to us. The problem becomes, how can we purchase the wines that we tasted on out trip at home? Can’t ship they-ah from he-ah.


How can this be?

It all can be tracked back to Prohibition. As a child I heard the stories told by my aunt’s husband, about his uncle’s car being riddled with bullet holes when he crossed the Canadian border with a trunk full of hooch. When I was about five years old, we were visited by great uncle Walter (who also married into the family). He was telling a story at the dinner table about his adventures playing banjo in a speak-easy and getting raided by the cops.

If I knew these people from only one or two degrees of separation, then perhaps these activities were not uncommon and booze was very prevalent during Prohibition. Not to mention my grandmother and her siblings sledding great-grandfather’s spent grappa mash to the river on their sleds in the middle of the night to covertly dispose of the evidence.

So how does this answer the question of how did direct wine shipping became so discombobulated in the US? During Prohibition, the alcohol industry was pretty much a vertical monopoly. The major markets were supplied by organized crime. The same mobsters produced, distributed, ran the clubs and sold the product.

At the end of Prohibition, politicians were faced with a problem. The supply chain that they were getting their libations from were run by criminals. In order to weed out the criminals, it was necessary to make it illegal for anyone with a criminal record to play a role in the industry.

Producers were required to be bonded by the federal government. Wholesale distributors were required to be bonded by each state government where they did business. Every retailer and restaurant was required to be licensed by the government of that state subject to review by local authorities. Further, one can not hold a distributor’s license and a retailer’s license. You can be a producer or a distributor, but not both. Thus the supply and distribution channels became split up.

In order to get the states’ support, they were given the responsibility of controlling the sale of alcohol as they saw fit. Some states even delegated responsibility down to the county level. In some states, you have no choice but to by your liquor and wine from state owned stores.

In all of our trips to wine countries, we have found one winery that can ship wine to our door. They bundle direct shipments together to our state and ship it to a distributor in our state...for a fee. The distributor then ships to our home. This adds to the price of the wine. But we feel it is damn good wine that we cannot get locally.

Other wineries that we purchase from ship our wine to my parents in New York. A New York excise tax is applied, (ouch!). With the wine club discount, we still are slightly ahead. Life goes on, so it may as well be a good life worth enjoying. For us, that means a break from the mass market wines from time to time.

The Fear of Flying
Flying wine home? Check the http://www.tsa.gov/ website for the latest rules regarding alcohol. Many wineries have special gorilla proof wine boxes for check-in baggage and there are some great wine carriers available on-line and at wine accessory stores. At the time of this posting, you can carry on a corkscrew.

Does Wine Make You Fat?

For anyone thinking "yes, if you drink it with cheesecake" I want you to know that was a lowfat cheesecake featured in Taster A's previous post, and it was damn good if I do say so myself. I am not posting the recipe because it's an America's Test Kitchen recipe (slightly altered) and you can get it there. I just replaced some sugar with xylitol and used really good Greek yogurt instead of standard yogurt. I also used ricotta instead of cottage cheese.

Anyway, for me, I'm afraid the answer is yes: Wine does make me fat. I know there are a lot of articles out there that tout the health benefits of wine which I can't deny. And certainly compared to the average American diet, a Mediterranean diet rich in good fats, and antioxidants from olive oil and wine is a heck of a lot better for maintaining your weight than fast food and hard liquor. Sadly for me, if I add one glass of red wine per day to my diet, I gain weight. Taster A is the opposite (lucky duck!) which corroborates with findings from a study published in the Journal of the American College of Medicine1 which concluded the addition of two glasses of red wine to the evening meal does not appear to influence any measured variable which may adversely affect body weight or promote the development of obesity.

However, there is research to back up my personal observation: In an article published in the European Journal of Clinical Nutrition2, the researchers concluded that moderate alcohol consumption in the form of red wine and other beverages is associated with beneficial changes in blood lipids and fibrinogen that may help to reduce the CV risk factors, but that the body weight may increase.

The most notable difference between these studies being that the first referenced was conducted entirely on male subjects, and the second was done with a mix of genders with the majority being female. So in conclusion, I will continue to enjoy a glass of wine on the weekends but I may not post Tasting Notes as prolifically as I would like. The good news is wine does make my cheeks nice and rosy.

1. Cordain, L, et al. "Influence of moderate daily wine consumption on body weight regulation and metabolism in healthy free-living males." Journal Of The American College Of Nutrition 16.2 (Apr. 1997): 134-139. MEDLINE with Full Text. EBSCO.

2. Hansen, A S, et al. "Effect of red wine and red grape extract on blood lipids, haemostatic factors, and other risk factors for cardiovascular disease." European Journal Of Clinical Nutrition 59.3 (Mar. 2005): 449-455. MEDLINE with Full Text.

The Evil Empire

We decided to watch Mondovino again to see if we could stay awake this time now that we are earnest students of wine. We rented it the first time a few years ago (right after Sideways) because Netflix said that people who liked Sideways also enjoyed Mondovino (lol). The biggest impact it had on us after our first viewing was to steer us away from Mondavi wine (not that we were buying Mondavi before we watched it).

The viewpoint of the film-maker is very compelling. Of course, he has a very definite viewpoint which colors the portrayal of certain characters in the film (IMHO) so I took it with a grain of salt. The American wine-makers featured in Mondovino were cast in an unflattering light which highlighted their corporate-profit-maximizing-at-the-expense-of-culture bent. Among the soiled were Mondavi (Robert, and sons), representatives of Wine Spectator, Robert Parker (to some extent), some damn American stealing grapes from a vine in Bordeaux, and the Francobaldi family. The impression of Napa that you get from this film is one of vacuous, soulless people who are single-handedly destroying the very soul of wine (not saying it isn't true in some cases). While, I don't think that making money as a wine-maker is intrinsically evil, I definitely came away with a lot of admiration for the French vintners (oh, they make $, I'm sure) that were featured.

One observation that I believe was made in the film, is that there is more Catholic guilt associated with making money in France that sways some of the prejudices you see there. I don't know if that's true but, it's an interesting idea. I wouldn't want to see vineyards that go back for generations, in a village that actually manages to hold on to it's bucolic charm bull-dozed to put up a Mondavi billboard no matter how many shares of MOND I owned.

Favorite quote from Mondovino: "micro-oxygenate!" (haha! I like to tease Taster A by telling him I'm going to ask if they micro-oxygenate next time we go to a winery)

Read an interesting interview with film-maker and sommelier Jonathan Nossiter.