I have taken wine and beer appreciation classes, and they help to highlight the characteristics of these beverages in relatively standard terms. However, I am often dismayed when I cannot identify tastes and aromas of which some critic has waxed eloquent - in the glass of wine which I have just poured for myself! There are a few "characteristics" which often come through in a specific type of wine. Sauvignon Blanc, for example, has a "lemony" character in taste - and who cannot remember the taste of a lemon? On the other hand, the description of "chalky" generally completely baffles me. Although I have tasted chalk in my childhood (and it is another one of those tastes which I believe no one forgets), no wine that I have had has ever actually tasted of chalk [Montrachet]. Pencil shavings [Cabernet Sauvignon]? Clearly a memory that lingers is ... A pear?
For me, there is a characteristic taste of pear. Even though I have consumed thousands of pears in my lifetime (and bananas - my second favorite fruit), there is only one "taste memory" of pear for me. Alas. Others who are more gifted may be able to distinguish their memories of comice or bartlett or seckel, or other varieties, but my memory generally says "pear". Perhaps this is because of my inability to focus and dissect the various tastes that enter my mouth when I am being directed towards bliss. Some others (probably with much more attention to detail than I am capable of) might even be able to distinguish a pear which was grown in Seattle versus one grown somewhere in Florida.
So, how does one actually describe the specific taste and aroma that is emitted by complex foods and drink? How does one, for example, characterize the taste of the best Indian Darjeeling, , or a Japanese Sake, or an American Bourbon? These, unlike French wines, have no legacy of predefined taste "templates" to guide the consumer. It is therefore quite natural to know that experts "borrow" the same words from the wine vocabulary to explain the nuances of these other items. Often, a bourbon whiskey will be described by its "terroir" - although there is no specific underlying reason to ever believe that such an element must exist in the drink at hand.
Dismissing pedantic snobbery (or the impression thereof), can a normal consumer such as myself actually arrive at an understanding as to how words used to describe taste - particularly when one has not had the taste of the item being referenced ("pencil lead", anyone??? or "old books"???)
Not easily done, in my opinion. When I see the word "pear" describing a Viognier or a Sauvignon Blanc, I wonder if the description is sufficient, or whether the price of the bottle warrants a purchase and an actual taste test. My experience with such purchases has resulted in the formation of a very personal approach which might be useful to others. When the description contains a plethora of tastes (such as when the author waxes eloquent about "pure raspberries followed by a wave of cinnamon and a hint of blueberries , changing course mid-palate to wonderful stone fruit which finishes with a long lemony finish"), I cringe. It takes longer to read such a description than to experience all those tastes in the single-digit seconds which pass by in the mouth. If the price is right (or more importantly - if there are many reviews which are positive) I might try a taste. On the other hand, I feel that a sparse description more than likely characterizes a taste. There is no denying the taste of (normal, unpretentious, plain old) honey in a bottle of French Quarts de Chaume wine (there is actually no honey added to the wine) and a borttle of Tej (Ethiopian Mead - which has approximately 1 part of honey to 15 parts water). One could argue the difference in "sophistication" of these two drinks - but not the essential character of honey perceived in them. Here again, others may perceive differences in the types of honey used to describe the flavor of the wine but in general the honey is unmistakable.
So, for me, the bottom line is to stick to single taste characterizations and focus on them. This has proven to be remarkably helpful when, for example, I am comparing a shou ("cooked") puerh tea with itself, over time. As a good shou puerh ages, it changes its flavor from that of moldy brown tea to one that has a taste of camphor (which is surprisingly an ingredient in some Indian food preparations - so yes it is in my "taste memory"). I understand that as such a puerh ages, the taste of camphor gives way to mint (especially of the leaves are harvested from an "ancient arbor" (old trees that have been left to grow on their own without much/any human intervention - often in excess of 400 years of age). Some tasters report an aroma characterized by wood, mushrooms and .... damp earth....
I guess we all have to eat dirt at some point in our lives.
For me, there is a characteristic taste of pear. Even though I have consumed thousands of pears in my lifetime (and bananas - my second favorite fruit), there is only one "taste memory" of pear for me. Alas. Others who are more gifted may be able to distinguish their memories of comice or bartlett or seckel, or other varieties, but my memory generally says "pear". Perhaps this is because of my inability to focus and dissect the various tastes that enter my mouth when I am being directed towards bliss. Some others (probably with much more attention to detail than I am capable of) might even be able to distinguish a pear which was grown in Seattle versus one grown somewhere in Florida.
So, how does one actually describe the specific taste and aroma that is emitted by complex foods and drink? How does one, for example, characterize the taste of the best Indian Darjeeling, , or a Japanese Sake, or an American Bourbon? These, unlike French wines, have no legacy of predefined taste "templates" to guide the consumer. It is therefore quite natural to know that experts "borrow" the same words from the wine vocabulary to explain the nuances of these other items. Often, a bourbon whiskey will be described by its "terroir" - although there is no specific underlying reason to ever believe that such an element must exist in the drink at hand.
Dismissing pedantic snobbery (or the impression thereof), can a normal consumer such as myself actually arrive at an understanding as to how words used to describe taste - particularly when one has not had the taste of the item being referenced ("pencil lead", anyone??? or "old books"???)
Not easily done, in my opinion. When I see the word "pear" describing a Viognier or a Sauvignon Blanc, I wonder if the description is sufficient, or whether the price of the bottle warrants a purchase and an actual taste test. My experience with such purchases has resulted in the formation of a very personal approach which might be useful to others. When the description contains a plethora of tastes (such as when the author waxes eloquent about "pure raspberries followed by a wave of cinnamon and a hint of blueberries , changing course mid-palate to wonderful stone fruit which finishes with a long lemony finish"), I cringe. It takes longer to read such a description than to experience all those tastes in the single-digit seconds which pass by in the mouth. If the price is right (or more importantly - if there are many reviews which are positive) I might try a taste. On the other hand, I feel that a sparse description more than likely characterizes a taste. There is no denying the taste of (normal, unpretentious, plain old) honey in a bottle of French Quarts de Chaume wine (there is actually no honey added to the wine) and a borttle of Tej (Ethiopian Mead - which has approximately 1 part of honey to 15 parts water). One could argue the difference in "sophistication" of these two drinks - but not the essential character of honey perceived in them. Here again, others may perceive differences in the types of honey used to describe the flavor of the wine but in general the honey is unmistakable.
So, for me, the bottom line is to stick to single taste characterizations and focus on them. This has proven to be remarkably helpful when, for example, I am comparing a shou ("cooked") puerh tea with itself, over time. As a good shou puerh ages, it changes its flavor from that of moldy brown tea to one that has a taste of camphor (which is surprisingly an ingredient in some Indian food preparations - so yes it is in my "taste memory"). I understand that as such a puerh ages, the taste of camphor gives way to mint (especially of the leaves are harvested from an "ancient arbor" (old trees that have been left to grow on their own without much/any human intervention - often in excess of 400 years of age). Some tasters report an aroma characterized by wood, mushrooms and .... damp earth....
I guess we all have to eat dirt at some point in our lives.
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