Pinot Now

This is your magical Pinot jargon decoder. Here you’ll find the real definitions of strange and unfamiliar terms used by critics and salespeople to describe Pinot Noir and other wines. You’ll also find definitions for some of the things I say that makes sense to me but I know must sound weird to someone not using the same brain. I’ll continue to add to this glossary, so if a word you don’t understand isn’t here now just check back soon.

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

“APPROACHABLE”
I find this term to be the most insidiously pretentious. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this tossed around in wine shops, in wine magazines, and on wine bottles. What bothers me about this word in particular is that it is used almost exclusively as a signifier. And what does it signify? Usually that the person speaking it thinks that the person hearing it has very little knowledge of and therefore pedestrian tastes in wine. Or it’s code for those in the know that a wine is not sublime. What it means, essentially, is that this wine appeals to the undiscerning masses. It’s uncomplicated, unrefined, fun. Yes, you’ll enjoy it. Everyone does. It goes down easy. In other words, “approachable” is a highfalutin way of saying – if I may coin a new wine term – “slutty”. Take it as you may, at least we’ve left the realm of pretense.

“CHAPARRAL”
Technically, chaparral is the shrubland, scrub brush plant community that makes up the natural vegetation of California’s hills and mountainsides which are too dry to support full-on trees. This vegetation is made up of thickets of wild herbs and aromatic weeds that from time to time will be scorched by fires and then regenerate itself on the smoky soil of its destruction. When I use the term “chaparral” as a descriptor of flavors & aromas found in a Pinot Noir, I mean it to include all of this. I use it as a terroir term exclusively for California Pinot Noir from the Central Coast where chaparral is the dominant ecosystem. I use it when a well made Central Coast Pinot Noir exhibits a unique sense of its place, with aromas of floral herbs, smoky earth, and a wildness in the complexity of its flavor. I mean it as a flattering term, and absolutely one of endearment.

“DRINKABLE”
One of the silliest words I’ve heard used to describe a wine is “drinkable.” Really? Because I assumed this was meant to be poured down the drain. That’s why I’m spending the ten bucks. My drain needs a wine rinse. Even better is “very drinkable.” This word means a salesperson really doesn’t know what to say about this wine, and maybe doesn’t know that much about wine, but they want you to buy it.

“FINISH”
What does your mouth feel and taste like after you swallow or spit a mouthful of wine? Are you haunted by lingering flavors that seem to coat your tonge and trickle slowly down your throat? That’s a “long finish.”

“HOT”
This does not mean a Pinot that inspires lust. It means a Pinot is high in alcohol, perhaps too high and out of balance.

“NOSE”
The aromas of a wine. See also “BOUQUET”

“OENOPHILE”
You if you’re reading this. A wine lover.

“ROBE”
The color of a wine.

“SLUTTY”
See “Approachable.”

“TERROIR”
A French term that borders on a poetic evokation of “micro-climate” and “environment.” It implies all the environmental factors that affect the growing of wine grapes and influence the flavor of the wine produced from them in a specific growing region or AVA. The soil types, native flora and fauna, weather patterns, geoglogical and topographical factors… everything that is unique about where and how a vineyard grows goes into this term. Pronounced TARE-wuh.

“VINTAGE”
Simply, the year the grapes were grown and made into wine. Not so simply, this term implies all of the factors of weather in a particular year that influenced the way the grapes were grown. A “good vintage” is a year in which the weather fulfilled winemakers’ hopes and created an ideal growing season which ripened the grapes to their optimal potential. A “bad vintage” is a growing season filled with challenges like excessive rain, unseasonably hot or cold weather, drought, and other non-ideal weather conditions for grapes.

Aging Pinot Noir: Helen Mirren or Keith Richards?

“Like a fine wine, I get better with age.” It’s an old adage that sounds nice, but we all know examples to the contrary. So how do you know if your wine is a Helen Mirren – one for whom the years only serve to undress her subtle beauty, grace, and style – or a Keith Richards – one that you wish had kept his clothes on? The key is that not all wines are “fine.” In fact most aren’t.

The truth is that 85-90% of wines produced worldwide are at their peak upon release and are meant to be drunk when you purchase them. As tastes are more and more influenced by a “new world” style of wine, that percentage may be growing. Life is uncertain, and people want good wine now, not in 20 years when we’ll all be refugees in Antarctica. Yes, these non-fine wines can hang around for a year or two, and sometimes longer, and they will continue to change… but maybe not into something that tastes better. And depending on how you store them, that extra time may actually make them taste worse.

Your own preferences make a big difference too. A wine’s “peak” is necessarily subjective, and possibly B.S. If you like wine young and fruity, you might not be able to appreciate its evolution past a certain age… in which case there’s little reward to aging a bottle. On the other hand, I personally find many wines to be released too early.

As an aside, my own tragedy is that as I approach an age (whose name shall not be spoken) when I have a little savings and an acquired appreciation for wine, the idea of buying a bottle now that I can’t drink for twenty years fills me with mortal dread. I would love to witness the transformation that an aged Chateau Margaux or DRC or even a Beaux Freres or McKinlay undergoes after 20 years. But what if I patiently and carefully store my wine all that time and then die in the 19th year without ever tasting it? It’s a wine geek’s nightmare!

So how do you know if you have a bottle from the other 10%, the kind that are designed to age? Here’s a good rule of thumb: the more affordable it is, the more likely it is that you should go ahead and enjoy it now. Those “fine” wines tend to be on the high end of the price scale.

Other than that… you could try buying cases of wines. Drink one bottle each year for 12 years, or every other year for 24. After 12 to 24 years you should be able to tell not only how well that wine ages, but also at what age you most prefer it. And if you have that kind of patience, let me know. I have a three year old that I’d like to loan you for a few years (human, not wine).

Here’s another adage: “Wine does improve with age. The older I get, the better I like it.”

There are really only 3 reasons to decant a wine:

1. Decant if a wine is very young.

Oops, you opened that 2005 Chateau Lafite Rothschild because you just couldn’t help yourself. But with the first sip you realize you might have just wasted $1000. The wine is so uptight it makes your mouth squeak. Your only hope now is to decant… possibly for several hours.

2. Decant if a wine is very old.

This is when that candle comes into play. If a wine is very old, or just old and unfined and/or unfiltered, it’s going to have some sediment. Start by standing that bottle upright in your “cellar” for a couple weeks. If i has been lying on its side, that’s where the sediment will be, and it’s a lot harder to decant that way. After the sediment has made its way to the bottom of the bottle (usually allow at least 2 weeks), gently pour the clear wine out of the bottle and off the sediment, into a decanter. The candle is to help you see through the bottle so you can tell when to stop pouring because the sediment is in danger of pouring out.

Usually, though, when a wine is very old it doesn’t need to breath to unlock its potential. It has already reached its potential in bottle and the exposure to oxygen is now going to degrade it quickly. So only decant an old wine just before serving.

3. Decant because it looks cool.

Serving wine out of a decanter is great presentation. It has show value. It turns Fetzer into Foley. Your guests don’t have to know it’s $10 Pinot Noir from the corner liquor store… let them think it’s a $50 mailing list only, single vineyard selection.

Don’t overly decant a Pinot Noir:

Usually a few minutes of swirling in your glass will unlock a restrained pinot’s aromatics. If this doesn’t work, cork the remaining bottle and try it the next day. Because of pinot’s delicacy, full scale decanting of an uptight bottle can overly diffuse its nose before softening its bite. When it comes to Pinot Noir, decant as a last resort.

In the movie Sideways, the protagonist, Miles, famously refused to drink Merlot. Within a year of the Academy Awards where Payne & Taylor took home an Oscar for the film, Merlot sales had dropped over 40%. Pinot Noir on the other hand, Miles’ favorite, is enjoying an unprecedented heyday. Yes, this shows the power of movies to influence our lives, but unfortunately it also shows that the subtlety of good storytelling is lost on the general public.

Miles hated Merlot. He also disparaged Cabernet Franc. But remember his precious 1961 Chateau Cheval Blanc, the wine that was a metaphor for Mile’s life, that he finally guzzles at the end with a burger when he has learned whatever it is he learns? It is a little known fact, except among wine geeks, that the Cheval Blanc is a wine made of a 50/50 mix of, you guessed it, Merlot and Cab Franc. It was a brilliant move on the part of Payne & Taylor, to underline the contradictions inherent in their complicated protagonist. One of those juicy tidbits that makes Sideways a movie to revisit. Unfortunately devastating to California Merlot producers.

Merlot is the most predominantly grown grape in Bordeaux. The most expensive and revered wines in the world, the Bordeaux first growths, are made with differing mixes of Merlot, Cab Franc, Cab Sauvignon, and a couple other grapes. Lucky for the French, they name their wines after the location from which they are produced rather than after their varietal, so the unwitting American Merlot snob wouldn’t be deterred from spending a small fortune on Merlot. It’s not Merlot… it’s a Chateau d’Whatever.

Is my point that Merlot is actually better than Pinot Noir? No. The moral of this story is that prejudice is always silly. Great wines come from every family of grape, and your particular tastes on any specific occasion often play the most important role in determining if you will love or hate a wine. So go out there and drink some #@%ing Merlot! …Maybe after some good Pinot Noir.