Swirl & Burble

Written by Mike Stepanovich

The biggest hurdle for the uninitiated wine drinker is wine’s complexity. It’s not a simple beverage. It’s a living thing with a lifespan much like a human’s. It’s like a bell-curve, going up from infancy and plateauing at maturity, then beginning a slow decline to old age.

The length of the bell curve varies from wine to wine; generally speaking, for white wines it’s shorter, for red wines it’s longer, depending on the varietal.

Wine rookies are often confused by the complexity, because up until their initiation, they’re used to straightforward flavors: an apple tastes like an apple, a peach tastes like a peach, a pear tastes like a pear, and so on. With wine, these flavors (and more) are often on display in the same wine, so the inexperienced person suddenly faced with these complexities is left wondering: what is this? The myriad of flavors often confuse and frustrate them because they’re not used to finding such flavor diversity in a single taste. But that, of course, is the great attraction of wine.

Tasting notes provided by a winery can also lead to confusion in a first-time wine drinker. If a sauvignon blanc is described as having flavors of kiwi fruit, a novice might wonder if the winemaker really did add kiwi fruit to the wine.

The answer, of course, is no, they did not. What the descriptions attempt to decipher is the wine’s complexity. All that these descriptors amount to is “wine-geek shorthand.”

The longhand version is, the flavors/aromas in this wine are reminiscent of kiwi fruit. When a winemaker is working on a wine’s description, they recall flavors in their memory bank that are associated with those fruits.

I offer an example. Early on in my wine education, I heard people refer to the aroma and flavor of cassis in cabernet sauvignon. I would just nod vaguely when this descriptor was brought up because at the time, I had no idea what cassis was or how it tasted. I’m a native Californian, and, frankly, we don’t have cassis growing here. So on a trip to France in the late 1990s, we happened to be staying with the parents of a winemaking friend, and I asked about cassis. Turns out, our hosts had a cassis bush growing in their backyard. It was a large, hedge-like currant with black berries roughly the size of a small grape. As soon as I tasted the cassis berry, I recognized that flavor in cabernet that had for so long escaped me.

The point is that the flavor has to be one with which you’re familiar. If, for example, you’ve never tasted the tropical fruit lychee nut, using that descriptor to describe viognier (which is often done) would have no meaning or use for you.

And what about swirling the wine in a wine glass? Wine glasses have a tear-shaped bowl that narrows at the top for a reason: to enhance the aroma of the wine. Typically, only a couple ounces of wine are poured into a 12-ounce glass. The wine is swirled, either by leaving the base on the table and moving it in a circular motion or by holding the glass by the stem near the base and moving it in a circular motion; this lifts the wine up the side of the glass, evaporating it slightly and releasing the aromas. The narrow opening at the top holds the concentrated aromas in. So if, after swirling, the person sticks their nose into the glass’ opening, they’re rewarded with wonderful, intense aromas.

You can conduct an experiment to demonstrate swirling’s effect. Leave your glass still for a minute or two, then stick your nose in the top and sniff. Not much going on there, a faint hint of aroma. Now, swirl the wine, then quickly stick your nose in the opening; the aromas explode into your senses. This should give you a good indication of what to expect once you take a sip.

The same intensified effect occurs with the “burble.” Once you’ve taken a sip, inhale through your mouth over the wine, which will make a burbling sound. Don’t worry, the wine won’t come dribbling out while you’re doing this, because it’s physically impossible for air to go in and wine to go out. However, once you’ve inhaled, quickly close your mouth to prevent wine from dribbling out. By burbling, you’ll discover the same effect as swirling: the slight evaporation from pulling air through the wine concentrates the flavors slightly, enhancing your enjoyment.

But how does one go from tasting to knowing what to order in a restaurant? And what do you do when the waiter gives you the cork he’s just pulled and pours a sample in your glass?

Visits to tasting rooms help, because you begin to broaden your wine knowledge and have a better idea what you like. However, not all wines go with all foods, so if you’re in doubt, ask your server for his or her suggestion as to what wine you should order. And what you order should depend on what you want to eat. Thinking of some, say, halibut? A crisp sauvignon blanc or opulent viognier might be just the thing. In the mood for a steak? A rich red wine such as cabernet sauvignon, syrah, or merlot might be the right choice. So now you’ve ordered your bottle, and the server has pulled the cork and handed it to you for inspection. What do you do? Unless you like the smell of wet wood, there’s really no need to smell it. That said, some people these days suggest you should, in fact, smell the cork to ascertain if off-odors are present. It’s far more likely that you’ll discover the off odors in the sample poured than from cork. What you should be looking for on the cork is to make sure it’s soft and wet, a sign that the proprietor has stored the wine properly. Once you’ve made that determination, taste the wine—swirling and burbling—to see if it tastes good.

The most likely culprit in the event of a bad-tasting wine is a condition called corkiness or cork taint. This results from the presence of trichloroanisole, or TCA, which can be a byproduct of the bleaching process in cork production. A corky wine will smell like wet, moldy cardboard, or some describe it as a wet dog. It isn’t a health hazard, but it will certainly diminish your wine enjoyment. So if you find your wine is corky, by all means, order another.

Don’t feel you have to buy the most expensive wine there either; in the world of wine, expensive doesn’t necessarily equal good. You don’t have to pay a lot to find a good wine. Some expensive wines appeal only to a narrow group of consumers; the less expensive wines are just as well made and have broader appeal. As your wine knowledge and income grow, you’ll gravitate to the more specialized wines, but in the early stages, look for the pleasant tasting, friendly wines; wines that you’ll enjoy with friends, with dinner, and will be proud to give as gifts.

Because if you like it, chances are, your friends and family will, too.

So, while it’s true that wine is a complex creature, there’s no reason to be intimidated. Anything that requires you to “swirl and burble” can’t be that bad.

Photos by ©Istockphoto.com/tiburonstudios, ©Istockphoto.com/matteodestefano

Article appeared in our 28-1 Issue - April 2011