The Simple Pleasures in the Study of Wine
by Seema Tikare
When I began studying wine several years ago, I really just wanted to know the difference between a Rhone and a Burgundy, a Napa Cabernet and a Bordeaux. I did not have any grand ambitions. However, as I progressed through the classes, I realized that wine brings so many subjects together - you pore over detailed maps to memorize appellations; you have to learn the different character imparted by schist or slate or loam or limestone; you have to study how many hours of sun each zone averages to know which grapes are likely to ripen well or over cook in certain areas. You have to smell your way through the world - what is the difference between black berry and black currant? What do acacia or hawthorn smell like? Can you distinguish the differences between lemon, lime and grapefruit smells? Or apples, pears and quince? You also taste your way through your kitchen. How do you judge the amount of mouth-drying astringency in something? Or if sourness and sweetness really do offset each other? When a sommelier says “structured,” what does she mean? Or smooth, or searing, or chalky or velvety?
It is astounding how complicated the process of learning about wine can be. Wine is a second career for me - in the my previous life, I worked in international development and traveled to Mali and Malawi, Albania and Macedonia, India and Indonesia, Nepal and Mongolia. And yet, I find my intellectual engagement in wine to be just as immersive and fascinating.
Perhaps the most important thing I have learned is that wine is best enjoyed when you just … enjoy it. It need not be complicated or challenging or an acquired taste. Most professionals poo poo a big heavily-oaked California Zinfandel or a jammy, wonderfully chewy Shiraz from Australia. But sometimes on a cold winter day, it is the ultimate relaxation to curl up with the comfort-food equivalent of wine, palate-fatigue be damned.
In that same vein, many people have become wary about wines that are sweet. We have all suffered through a flabby moscato or an overly fragrant, soapy gewürztraminer occasionally. But that should not put one off appreciating a truly fabulous off-dry Riesling or a wonderful Vouvray. The key is to find a wine with balance. Sweetness in a wine can be elevated to greatness with tartness from both tartaric and malic acid, with yeast contact that imparts a bready set of flavors and through aging, which allows all the floral, fruit, pastry and mineral flavors to blend into something gorgeous. In fact, some of my most memorable experiences with spicy Indian or Southeast Asia food involved a bottle of German Riesling. And some of my favorite dessert wines are not the sweet fortified wines of port or madeira, but rather with the sweeter expressions of Chenin Blanc.
Therefore, I exhort you. Don’t be afraid! Challenge yourself to try a well-made, well balanced sweet wine. With flavorful cheeses, garlicky-salty charcuterie, strongly flavored cuisines and even simple meals, it can be the perfect storm.
Want to try something sweet and delicious? Check out our upcoming Ramos Pinto port wine tasting.
