I find the concept of terroir particularly compelling. Perhaps it's the hedonist in me. Perhaps it's the elemental tie to the earth. Perhaps I love this concept because it feels so antithetical to so much of what is happening today.
It means, 'of the earth.' The longer definition, per terroir.france.com,
'A " terroir " is a group of vineyards (or even vines) from the same region, belonging to a specific appellation, and sharing the same type of soil, weather conditions, grapes and wine making savoir-faire, which contribute to give its specific personality to the wine.
I love this definition. If you really know wines, then, you can taste not just the type of wine that you're sampling, but the terroir from which it originates. I, alas, do not possess a palette quite that discerning. Not even close.
I know what I like, the medium to full-bodied reds, preferably drier than fruity, but a good, soft fruity red can be lovely too. My palette just seems to dance a little when it encounters a nice, rich, dry Zinfandel or deep Cabernet. I'm still working on appreciating Pinot Noirs, and have recently begun to enjoy Red Bordeaux. We had a bottle that was a Merlot/Cab blend the other night that wasn't bad, though I'm not a Merlot fan. (and not because I saw Sideways, either, I've just never developed a taste for it.)
My dad knew a lot about wine, and with his brother explored many French and Italian and Spanish varieties and educated his palette and learned the terminology. He read Alexis Lichine, enjoyed the tasting process as much as consuming the vin, and would sparkle and smile when he encountered a satisfying vintage. We would design dinners around bottles of wine he and my uncle would purchase, then enjoy the pairing of the carefully selected and prepared foods with the wine choice of the meal.
I think this is where I learned to consider wine a food, as significant an ingredient to a good meal as a nicely prepared protein or beautifully crafted salad. A good meal to me always includes at least the option of a glass of wine; sans that option, the meal would feel incomplete, I suppose.
Cultivating a skill like becoming a wine lover takes time, dedication, effort, and a real desire to learn not just the taste of the end product, but the story of the vine, the history of the winemaker, the rationale behind any blending that ultimately produced the bottled wine.
It feels to me that in an age of increasing speed, multi-tasking, frantic, constant movement in lieu of measured activity and deliberate focus, taking on a challenge such as becoming a knowledgeable wine consumer (note I did NOT use the term connoisseur...to me that's another term for 'snob' and that's not where I'm headed with this) would be good for the soul.
Kind of a Zen for the palette.
And yes, I can totally imagine living in a small vineyard in France or Italy, steeping myself in viniculture and local history (the two are instrinsically entwined), and contributing in some way to the creation of good wines.
It means, 'of the earth.' The longer definition, per terroir.france.com,
'A " terroir " is a group of vineyards (or even vines) from the same region, belonging to a specific appellation, and sharing the same type of soil, weather conditions, grapes and wine making savoir-faire, which contribute to give its specific personality to the wine.
I love this definition. If you really know wines, then, you can taste not just the type of wine that you're sampling, but the terroir from which it originates. I, alas, do not possess a palette quite that discerning. Not even close.
I know what I like, the medium to full-bodied reds, preferably drier than fruity, but a good, soft fruity red can be lovely too. My palette just seems to dance a little when it encounters a nice, rich, dry Zinfandel or deep Cabernet. I'm still working on appreciating Pinot Noirs, and have recently begun to enjoy Red Bordeaux. We had a bottle that was a Merlot/Cab blend the other night that wasn't bad, though I'm not a Merlot fan. (and not because I saw Sideways, either, I've just never developed a taste for it.)
My dad knew a lot about wine, and with his brother explored many French and Italian and Spanish varieties and educated his palette and learned the terminology. He read Alexis Lichine, enjoyed the tasting process as much as consuming the vin, and would sparkle and smile when he encountered a satisfying vintage. We would design dinners around bottles of wine he and my uncle would purchase, then enjoy the pairing of the carefully selected and prepared foods with the wine choice of the meal.
I think this is where I learned to consider wine a food, as significant an ingredient to a good meal as a nicely prepared protein or beautifully crafted salad. A good meal to me always includes at least the option of a glass of wine; sans that option, the meal would feel incomplete, I suppose.
Cultivating a skill like becoming a wine lover takes time, dedication, effort, and a real desire to learn not just the taste of the end product, but the story of the vine, the history of the winemaker, the rationale behind any blending that ultimately produced the bottled wine.
It feels to me that in an age of increasing speed, multi-tasking, frantic, constant movement in lieu of measured activity and deliberate focus, taking on a challenge such as becoming a knowledgeable wine consumer (note I did NOT use the term connoisseur...to me that's another term for 'snob' and that's not where I'm headed with this) would be good for the soul.
Kind of a Zen for the palette.
And yes, I can totally imagine living in a small vineyard in France or Italy, steeping myself in viniculture and local history (the two are instrinsically entwined), and contributing in some way to the creation of good wines.
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