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Winemaker Notes - May 2005I am fascinated with wine texture. Texture is not commonly discussed, but I believe it is an important component in the experience of tasting wine. My earliest memories of wine are the global impression wines left on my palate, not of specific flavors. I remember Burgundies (Pinot noir) as being bigger wines than Bordeaux (Cabernet/Merlot blends). This is contrary to what most tasters would describe. I remember the heady aromatics, bright acidity, and diversity of flavors in Burgundies. These, combined with the textural ‘sensations’ in my mouth, probably accounted for the strong impression they left. That impression is still with me. Wine texture is the sensation of the wine in your mouth. It is the feel of the fluid as it interacts with your tongue, your cheeks, and your throat. It changes from the moment the wine enters your mouth and lingers after it is swallowed. It can be dynamic, moving in a linear fashion from the back to the front of your mouth, or it can ricochet from side to side. It can be fine and delicate or forceful. It can be pleasant or abusive. It can also be almost entirely absent. Such sensations interact with aromas and flavors to create the complex interaction we call ‘tasting’. The importance of texture in food has long been recognized in Asia. Recently, western sensory scientists decided that we could taste five, not just four flavors. Salt, sweet, bitter, sour and a fifth flavor, which was given a Japanese name: “Umami”. The linguist, Michael Quinion writes: “Umami is hard to translate, to judge by the number of English words that have been suggested as equivalents, such as savory, essence, pungent, deliciousness, and meaty. It’s sometimes associated with a feeling of perfect quality in a taste, or of some special emotional circumstance in which a taste is experienced.” In short, Umami is the sensation of texture in our mouth. Most winemakers trained in the ‘80’s were taught to believe that the old vocabulary used to describe wine – words like fat, voluptuous, whimsical, etc., terms used to describe texture – were inaccurate and not quantifiable. The Davis Wine Aroma wheel, developed by Dr. Ann Noble, was promoted and widely followed as an accurate and reproducible method to describe wine. Aroma ‘Standards’ were created by mixing a flavor component (like strawberries or peaches) with a simple white or red wine. You would compare that aroma to the base wine. Wines could then be accurately described in terms of standard aromas and flavors. Descriptions of texture are not easily quantifiable and were largely ignored. As a result, winemakers evaluated their wines in quantifiable ways and concentrated on techniques to increase aromas and fruit flavors. Bigger and more obvious flavors became the focus of winemaking efforts. I embraced the Davis system along with most of my colleges in the ’80’s and also focused on those same goals. In 1998, I went to France to taste French wine and talk with winemakers. One of the regions I visited was Alsace. There, I met André Ostertag, who has become one of my winemaking heros. As we tasted through his vineyard designated Pinot gris, I asked how the flavors of each terroir differed. André responded that for him, flavors were unimportant. His experience was one of texture; he compared how the wines ‘moved’ in his mouth. He believed that first, and foremost, great Pinot gris were about texture. I left both confused and stimulated. When I returned to Oregon, I made my first Shea Vineyard Pinot gris with a belief that Dick Shea’s vineyard might produce Pinot gris with the kind of textural complexity found in André’s wines. My fascination with texture had begun. At its simplest, wine texture begins with two components: glycerin and tannin. Glycerin gives wine a syrupy viscosity and a mild sense of sweetness and is a natural product of fermentation. ‘Legs’ on the sides of your wineglass are largely caused by the interaction of glycerin and alcohol. Tannins are found in grape skins and seeds. Even with immediate gentle pressing of white grapes, some tannin is extracted. Tannins give wine astringency and bitterness. This can be a mild dryness on your palate or frank bitterness throughout your mouth. Tannins lend a sense of weight and power, especially when they are in balance with other components in the wine. As wine ages, tannin molecules coalesce to form larger molecules that are less bitter and may eventually drop out of solution as sediment. Tannins can help a wine age if the strength of fruit behind them is powerful enough to outlast the tannins. Otherwise, the wine just becomes harsh and devoid of fruit. Carefully controlling the extraction of tannins is critical in producing Pinot noir. There are other sources of texture in wine. Barrel fermentation and aging in new oak barrels adds texture. Aging on the yeast lees is an ancient way to build texture, the extreme example being vintage Champagnes, which are often aged in excess of five years on the yeast lees. Some vineyards (terroirs) produce grapes that are especially textural. Winemakers continually make decisions that change the textural signature of their wines. Racking (moving wine from barrel to barrel), fining (adding products that bind tannin), and the length of aging before bottling all affect texture. Achieving the correct texture will result in a more complete wine; a wine with a clearer sense of its terroir. My winemaking focus expanded from the quantifiable to include explorations into the nuances of texture. Wine textures interact with food textures. This is one of the basic precepts in food-wine pairing. In mid-April, Chris MacDonald, a good friend and the chef-owner of Avalon in Toronto, came to Oregon. Chris agreed to cook at the Steamboat Inn for a St. Innocent winemaker’s dinner. His restaurant has been honored numerous times and he is one of the most celebrated chefs in Toronto. Beyond his prowess as a chef, he is acclaimed as one of the masters of food-wine pairing in Canada. Chris is obsessed with texture (do you see a connection?). He consciously builds layers of texture into his dishes. We discussed the textures I found in my wines and how the menu could be developed to showcase and reflect those textures in his dishes. We arrived at Steamboat late Thursday. On Friday, I spent ten hours in the kitchen cooking with Chris. I finally exited at 7 pm to make a quick clothing change and host our winemaker’s dinner. It was ten hours of bliss. I learned an enormous amount about texture in food. Much of my effort was spent creating a rich soup for a salmon dish to showcase our 2003 Pinot gris, Shea Vineyard. We added layers of texture to what ended up being less than a quarter cup per plate. The point of all this work was to reflect the complex textures of the wine in the food. By tasting the two together, you could understand the nuances of the wine in a way that would be impossible by tasting the wine alone. The result was one of the most impressive taste experiences of my life. As you read my wine notes, and look back at past newsletters, you will notice that I write about texture and emphasize its role in how my wines taste. Texture is an integral part of my winemaking goals, my winemaking, and my evaluation of how well I succeeded in capturing a vineyard’s terroir. I strive to find a textural balance in each of my wines. I believe texture is a basic component in our experience of wine, as well as the pleasure we derive from drinking it. I encourage you not only taste my wines, but look for that “perfect quality in a taste”; the Umami in them. Mark Vlossak, winemaker |
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