Wine Blog
The study of aromatics is likely one of the most intriguing applications of science for the wine lover, firmly rooted in chemistry and yet inevitably and perfectly sensual.
In my family, we have a longstanding tradition of “group sensory analysis”; we gather around the dinner table and purpose to discuss the evening’s wine, much as another family would debate politics or current affairs. We try to use a universal language with simple descriptors and sensations that can be understood by everyone in the family, whether amateurs or professionals, as if we were commenting on something as simple and universal as the weather.
After a few such sessions, I quickly came to the conclusion that the layman experience is anything but scientific. While my father is describing cherries and cola, my mother is marveling at the almond liquor, plums and caramel that her glass exudes. I may smell licorice and roses while the person to my right is raving about the subtle mint notes and wild strawberries.
The analysis of the aromatics of wine in a group setting can be likened to a conversation between an Italian, a Frenchman and a Spaniard on the subject of the world's most beautiful language. "Io preferisco italiano....che bello e dolcissimo..." to which the Frenchman responds, "Je ne vous comprends pas mais tout le monde sait que le français est la plus belle langue du monde", with the Spaniard adding his two cents’ worth, "No entiendo nada de lo que dicen pero que viva el español!" In sum, we often can't see eye to eye (or in this case, nose to nose) on what the wine is communicating to our sense of smell. Each taster seems to speak his or her own language when talking wine. How, then, can we hope to understand each other or reach any sort of consensus?
Amidst such blatant subjectivity, I wanted to know if there was anything objective in the nose of a wine, some foothold, some scientific basis one could use to sift through the hundreds of different descriptors that one wine can provoke. Given that most good sommeliers can determine blindly the grapes in their glass of wine, I knew something concrete had to exist.
In my quest for explanations, I stumbled upon the fascinating world of thiols. A thiol can be defined according to Webster's dictionary as "any of a class of compounds that are analogous to alcohols and phenols but contain sulfur in place of oxygen". In simple terms, thiols are the building blocks of each particular scent in a given wine, and are determined by the varietal, the pre-fermentation chemical reactions, the fermentation and the aging process of the wine. These four factors along with terroir influence the chemical compounds in the wine and determine its aromatics. The concentration of the particular compound is important in determining how it is perceived by the nose. Further complicating the matter, each taster’s threshold of perception varies drastically.
For example, in a recent French wine seminar, I learned that one person may smell cherry while the next will smell almond because both scents share the same chemical compounds in differing concentrations. The more sensitive nose will smell the almond. This variance in sensitivity is partly responsible for our dinner table scenario.
In light of the complexity of smell and the pace at which new research is changing our understanding of it, I recommend that you research the ‘typicity’ or typical primary aromas of your favorite grapes, and then try to identify those descriptors when tasting. Let’s take Pinot Noir as an example. According to experts, Pinot Noirs exhibit any number of the following fruits, flowers, spices, herbs and terroir, depending on where and how it is crafted: cherries, strawberries, red cassis, raspberries, wild berries, plums, ripe tomatoes, violets, rose petals, rosemary, cinnamon, peppermint, licorice, anise, caraway, rhubarb, oregano, green tea, black olives, mushrooms, earth, leather and truffles. In Pinot Noirs from Burgundy, you are more likely to detect minerals and earthiness (much as you would in water from a mountain spring). Practice searching for these particular scents next time you have a glass of red Burgundy in hand. You’ll find it’s much easier to identify them once you call upon your ‘olfactory memory’ and try to conjure up the smell of, say, a plum, as you take in the nose of your wine.
Though this technique will in no way guarantee consensus with your fellow tasters, it can certainly serve as a guide that will eventually enable you to recognize (blindly!) the grapes in your glass.
Good luck at the dinner table.....and happy tasting!
