The Tasting
note has become an institution and the most logic form of describing a wine. In
it we try to unfold the character of the wine by fragmenting it’s components. A
good taster have the ability to distinctively spot the most detailed aromatic/flavour
notes of the wine and some can even visualize the wine for you, by using creative
metaphors. No doubt that the use of metaphors enriches the language, elevates
the fun-factor and even have an inspirational appeal to a thirsty audience.
But!” - they can also be highly individual, completely useless and far-fetched.
After the creative phase of the tasting note, and the use of endless
adjectives, the taster will try to reach a conclusion, by sort of putting the
notes back into a context, measuring the wines overall balance. Some end the
tasting note with a score – some don’t.
(The
scoring of wine is probably a separate post worthy, but let’s leave that for a
rainy day).
I have a
hate/love affair with the tasting note. I think it’s a poor mans thought of
trying to capture a wines soul. However I recognize that it’s at least a form
trying it’s best with words to unfold a wines character.
What I
don’t like about the tasting note is that it reminds me of performance tool,
between a company and their employees. We look for plusses and minuses, by
fragmenting and we ALWAYS end up concluding something. Yet when we have separated
all the components of a wine into a SWOT matrix we don’t always, if you ask me,
manage to assemble the components correctly back into place. The fragmenting
becomes primary and we become too focussed on performing a task, rather than
just relaxing and connecting with the wine. I think we do this, because the tasting note has become such
an easy form to adapt to.
Our role
models – and where we have learned the tasting note from – are wine
journalist. However I think we
forgot forgot, in our eager to play mini-Parker/Galloni or Jancis Robinson,
that the wine journalist are at work and tasting notes are part of their
paycheck. We, you and I – the consumer, are not at work. Nothing is required
from us, when it comes to wine – yet we chose to use the neo cortex of our
brain, which is responsible for all our rational and analytic choices. Instead,
the curious reader, would obviously ask, why we don’t use our the limbic system
of our brain, which holds all our feelings and emotions, when wine are in fact
something that unfolds on an emotional level? But does the limbic system have
an understandable language? I believe it has and I miss its presence in wine,
despite I can find it elsewhere in other emotional systems like literature, art
and music. The limbic language is not so easy to master as listing facts are.
It will even break the norms and you might be laughed at, because it can be
perceived as pure nonsense. Who wants to be a failure, when they can be a
success, by just following the already secure standards of a fact-listing
tasting note? The tasting note have become like an occupying norm institution.
And fair enough really, because maybe we don’t need to express what the limbic
system are telling us. Maybe the affect of the wine – that electric pulse
inside your bloodstream was just a personal moment for you. The unexplainable
was somehow your own little secret – another dimension - something to hold onto
and be inspired by. Sometimes it can be disturbing to let other people into
your most private thoughts – so why share it, if it holds more value by
treasuring it?
There are
also good things about tasting notes. I like the fact that starting up a
tasting note actually forces you to listen and talk to the wine. The more this
conversation unfolds– the more information you will obtain. The experience of
the wine, if you do a proper job, should hold most of the details. By having
written your notes down on paper, it’s very easy to come back and do some more
reflections.
However at
the end of the day – the formal approach of writing down has the tendency to
focus on “what?” (The neo cortex) – analysis, facts, numbers - and not the
“why?” (The limbic system) – emotions, feelings and reflections.
“Why” - is me – this is who I am, when I drink
wine. When I work – I am “what” and I need that contrast when it comes to wine.
Let’s end
it here – despite the subject holds more nuances. It’s a blog – not a novel
;-).
But before
we end – as the headline promised – I’ll give you a tasting note on a
spectacular Champagne.
2009 Benoît Lahaye
“Le Jardin de la Grosse Pierre”
Blend: Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier, Pinot Blanc, Chardonnay,
Arbanne, Petit Meslier and other unknown
varieties.
Terroir: Brown Chalk
Age of wines: Some Planet
in 1923 by Benoit's grandfather – yet some dead replaced again in 1952.
Vinification: 10 months in
old 225l barrels.
Dosage: 0 g/l
Production: 840 bottles
Glass: Zalto White wine
I have actually tasted this
Champagne once before in 2013, when I attended the pre-2013 Terres et vins de
Champagne event called “"Les Vins de Champagne à travers le temps". This
is however the first I take it for a spin at home. I remember it as a
remarkable breed with highly sophisticated spices. I also remember that the
blend was rather particular and also asking Benoît about these “other”
varieties? He just smiled, so we will have to settle with that ;-).
I can’t tell you what these
spices taste like – they are so unique and intense. You have to buy it “see”
for yourself. It smells like raw soil, warm stones, black cherries stones/olives
– but I am really guessing here, because I have never tasted anything like it
before. The intensity of these spices, roots from a dark place and it seriously
feel like drinking the soil. At one stage I feared that it would lose height,
given the combination of these dark, mysterious spices and the slightly warm
’09 vintage. However despite the growling dark baseline it somehow also manages
to stretch itself into a weightless space. Insane really – something I have
never seen before and totally emotional experience for me.
When I ask myself what I
love about Champagne, it always circles around the cool climate, fostering
overly elegant and precise wines. However I also like the raw side of
Champagne, which started to come alive, when I got introduced to growers like
Benoît Lahaye here. This is raw nature-stuff Champagne, not seeking any kind of
compromise. Nor is it a fruit bomb, ready to take you for Boogie Woogie on the
dance floor. “Le Jardin de la Grosse Pierre” is not a beginner Champagne
and I would recommend you to drink it with food.
One of a kind Champagne. Try it, if you can find it.
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