Wine Enthusiast Magazine
SubscribeI’m trying to swell the ranks of those who love the differences in each vintage, who abhor homogenization, who want wines that make them smile, think, laugh, and feel sexy. –Alice Feiring
Can you “feel” a wine?
I have often tried to explain my own approach to professional tasting—I’m clinical, I’m systematic—I have to be. Imagine the overwhelming task of categorizing so many sensations without some type of consistent process. So I first deconstruct what’s in the glass without emotion—striving to create a sober map of its parts. But a skeleton needs blood and flesh to become human. I know that a really good wine is about more than just facts. It evokes more in a person than just the thought of “this tastes good.” It, as Feiring says, makes us laugh, smile, feel sexy. And so then it’s time to read between the lines.
What’s the bigger picture appeal of this wine? How does it make me feel? Where do I want to be when I drink it? And what’s the real soul of this wine? When I’m asked to recommend wines to my friends, I don’t just choose them based on the raw facts of what’s in the bottle. It’s not just about the fact that she/he likes crisp whites or full-bodied reds. There’s something more than systematic descriptors to a wine; there’s an essence. How does this wine match the essence of the person? I know that my soulful but edgy musician friend is going to love Nero d’Avola every time. She can’t describe exactly why, but she just feels that wine. Like her, it’s larger than life, it has its eccentricities, it has an opulent flair.
Incidentally, the concept of essence applies to people too: what about the buttoned-up computer programmer who, upon further investigation, reveals that he moonlights in a punk band? Or the shy nursery school teacher with a penchant for cave spelunking? Often the facts are only part of the story. The unfolding spirit of a person—what doesn’t show up on paper—is what makes getting to know them so interesting. It’s true, too, of wine.
I don’t think there’s any wine devotee who would deny that emotion, or that stuff between the lines, plays some part in the wines they choose and love. The spirit and soul of wine is part of what makes it so attractive and so alluring. It’s what makes us connect to it beyond just “I like the flavor of gooseberry.”
Do you believe in feeling a wine? Can a wine really have soul?
Filed under: Connoisseurship, Critics/Competitions, Opinions and Commentary, Varietals, Wine Tasting
3 Comments
April 24th, 2009 at 8:46:44 PM
I think the same question can be applied to-does a twinkie have soul, or does any food or drink for that matter have soul? There are so many foods that we eat and drink that evoke memories, make us feel a certain way… of course wine does get us drunk so one would probably feel looser, have more relaxed thoughts, feel sexier… etc…
April 30th, 2009 at 5:10:38 PM
Every wine is different for every person, and even from day to day a wine can be different for a single person. After a long stressful day, I might not want a clean, crisp wine – I might require something bigger and stronger not only to fit my personality, but my mood. I don’t think wine has a soul, no. But it does have complex characteristics. Our ‘soul’, if we even have one, gets applied to the wine….and hopefully they pair up well.
May 1st, 2009 at 9:59:54 AM
I like the idea if a Twinkie having a soul–what stories it could tell of its many years on the shelf ;) I think it’s true that wine and food, much like scents and sounds, can evoke memories and experiences. There’s an emotional imprint that happens, which is what makes culinary enjoyment something beyond just nourishment.