“Tasting” wine, so-called, isn’t only about taste, about the wine’s flavors. It’s also about its color, aromas, temperature, and texture across our palate. Tasting wine requires us to tune into a mix of signals entering our sensorium, then make sense of the mess.
In another recent article about wine and food pairing, I worked from the vantage point of trying to select the best wine to pair with any given food. But here the situation is reversed: you’ve got a wine picked out and now need some tricks to prepare the food so it’s more friendly with that wine.
Thankfully, the Pew Research Center has more important things to do than to figure out what the public thinks about wine writers. I fear that if they undertook the task, they would find that many people view wine writing with some degree of scorn.
Pliny the Elder, the Roman author, was a fan of wines from the Rhône Valley. Something he wrote nearly 2,000 years ago struck winemaker Pierre Gaillard, a student of wine history, as a tip for finding something almost incredible today: unused Grand Cru-level terroir in the heart of French wine country.
I’d fallen in love with studying art history in high school and regretted, throughout college, that I’d chosen a different—seemingly more practical—route (at the time studying journalism still seemed like a splendid idea). Wine reminded me that I use my brain best when the subject concerns beauty.