Taste The Smell

The original plan was, that the week after F.I.P.T., there would be a global meeting of the entire CMS Team, in Morocco of all places, but it was canceled at the last minute, just one month after 9/11. Even though Morocco is a Berber country, and not an Arab one at all, the powers that be didn’t feel it was a good idea, especially for the Americans, of which there really were only three. With an extra couple of days left before I was to fly back to the States, Steven suggested we take a 235 km drive down to France’s Rhône Valley for a wine immersion. Wine, both the Rhône and the Bordeaux, were more than a hobby to Steven, they were, and continue to be a passion, and he knows the regions, their history, chateaus, makers, and viniculture as well as any expert on the subject. We set out on the A42 out of Geneva in Steven’s deep blue diesel Mercedes, with his current Cotes du Rhône issue of Robert Parker’s Wine Advocate, the UK edition of Decanter Magazine, and the little red Le Guide Michelin. Our destination was the southern Rhône first, tasting and buying in Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Gigondas, and Vacqueyras before making our way back - including a memorable stop at Maison M. Chapoutier in the northern Rhône’s Tain-l’Hermitage.

For Steven, wine was not just a moment of bonheur, it was a practice. Every taste he took, from every bottle or glass of wine, was noted in pencil in his little pocket Moleskine. Every single taste was numbered chronologically and scored by his own rating system of judgement, and by the time we were through with this day trip, he was close to two-thousand impressions, while I was just getting my feet whet. Steven explained that drinking wine was a truly multi-sensorial experience, and not simply his imbibing beverage of choice. Wine was a tool for him, and now me, to learn the art of smelling and tasting. Although there are defined characteristics of the grapes themselves, the unique terroir of the region itself, and of course the recipe of each individual wine maker, one’s own opinion of what is in the glass is entirely subjective. There is no right or wrong, but if done correctly, there are surely commonalities in nuances that can be recognized and subsequently identified. The better you get at smelling and tasting what you’re drinking, the easier it becomes to accurately identify the wine – where it’s from, the varietal, and possibly even how old it is. There are experts who do the same in coffee, tea, whiskey, and even olive oil, but, with wine, it takes on its own special pretentiousness when you’re out socially – and in the business of fragrance and flavors, it becomes both a training tool and a differentiator. Wine tasting is quite literally the act of consciously assessing a wine’s quality, character, or identity, and if you take the time to take notes, people tend to notice.

The creative journals I kept were already a novelty to most of my colleagues and customers, but the addition of keeping a totally separate notebook just for wine, seemed, to the uninitiated, just a little bit OCD-like. Beginning with the GSM wines of the Rhône, Steven’s instructions were simple enough – first, write down what you see. Observe the color in the glass, tilt the glass and note the color of the rim or edge of the wine. Obviously, only with reds, this can help you tell the approximate age of the wine simply by noticing whether it is pink, like a young wine, or a brownish orange like an older wine. Notice the ‘legs’ on the side of the glass after giving it a swirl to aerate it. Are they long and syrupy, slow moving, thick? For us, the main reason for evaluating the wine was to get better at smelling and tasting, because smell and taste, like Steven and I, have such a symbiotic relationship. “Get your nose deep into the glass, and open your mouth just a bit, as you inhale and take in the aromas,” Steven instructed me. Smelling the wine is critical to tasting it, as it’s been reported that at least 80% of what we taste is actually the smell. I’m not necessarily a proponent of the theory, but there are some scientists that have suggested that wine is virtually a tasteless liquid that just so happens to be deeply fragrant.

Recognizing the characteristics of a wine, through scent, with all of the factors that influence the aromas, came down to getting a truly better understanding and full appreciation of olfactory perception. Just as Robert had asked me when we first sat down in his office, “What do you smell?” Is it light or heavy, pleasant or unpleasant, complex or simple? The characteristics of each vine are unique to its variety, and ultimately, a wine receives its legacy of flavor from the very vine that yielded its grapes. By learning and understanding that each varietal imparts a specific flavor profile to the finished wine, I, in turn, could get better at smelling and therefore tasting. Aside from actually drinking them, it was really no different than learning the classic perfumes in my wab kits. Heighten your awareness. Pay attention to the details, and jot them down to remember and refer back to. These are words I live by.