My wine breathes, has a nose, body, and legs, but no pulse!
(Part 2, by Raymond R. Wells, Ed.D.)
No, I don’t need a defibrillator. And you don’t need a doctorate to understand these terms as applied to wine.
Continuing our anatomy and physiology of wine, the nose:
Some oenophiles (fancy word for wine geeks) use the term “aroma” to refer to either the smells contributed solely by the grapes, or more usually, the relatively simple smells of young wines. “Bouquet” can refer to the smells that develop in the wine making process after the grapes are crushed, or more usually, the more complex smells that develop with bottle ageing. To avoid confusion (and the difficulties of distinguishing between them), I prefer the general term “nose” to include all of a wine’s aromas, smells, odors, stinks, bouquets, miasmas, etc.
Understand that much of wine tasting is actually wine smelling. Children learn that holding their nose greatly reduces the ability to taste those “good for you” but unpleasant things that adults sometimes try to force on them. I had even been known to use that tactic when my mother served recipes that I accused her of getting from “Poisoner’s Digest Magazine”. However, to fully appreciate wines, use of the olfactory sense is paramount.
As a point of etiquette, please do not douse yourself with colognes, perfumes, or any other strong scent before attending a wine tasting. You don’t want the other people involved to come away from a tasting thinking that all of the wines smelled (and therefore tasted) like gardenias, Old Spice, or whatever. Unfortunately, the person wearing their favorite toilet water has usually succumbed to olfactory fatigue regarding their own scent; so they aren’t aware of its effect on others.
One of the most difficult aspects of wine tasting is putting words to smells and tastes. In an attempt to standardize terminology for the smells found in wines, the University of California at Davis developed the “Aroma Wheel”. Within its 12 categories of aromas (fruity, spicy, floral, microbiological, sherry, pungent, chemical, earthy, woody, caramel, nutty, and herbaceous or vegetative), there can be subdivisions and specifics. For example, the category of “fruity” has 6 subdivisions; one of those subdivisions is “citrus” which lists specifics of “grapefruit” and “lemon’. It’s fine to use terms not on the wheel. Unless writing tasting notes for publication, you should use terms that are meaningful to you even if they would not mean anything to anyone else. If a wine smells like your grandmother’s kitchen, you know what that smells like. If nothing else, note whether the wine smells good, funky, yummy, yucky, etc.
With practice, you will be able to associate certain wine smells with particular varietals – such as Sauvignon Blanc’s typically “grassy” nose. Unfortunately, though there are smells that are commonly found in individual varietals, there are none that are only found in a particular varietal. For example, red Zinfandel typically evokes berries; but many other wines can also display similar berry aromas. However, certain combinations of smells are often found in varietally correct wines. When you smell violets, spices, mushrooms, and leather in a wine, you are probably sampling a Pinot Noir. But don’t get discouraged if this sounds too complicated. If you do your homework (homework has never been more fun), practice putting words with smells, take notes, and taste-taste-taste many wines; you could develop your “nose” for wines. In wine, truth and health!