There is something magic when you put your nose in a glass of wine. A world
unfolds to our senses, an amazing and renewed tale, like a promise repeating
year after year, bottle after bottle. But also sad disappointments. It is not
about aromas not exactly meeting our pleasure - and this can also happen, of
course - I am talking, in particular, about those aromas that, like to say, are
the sign of unskillfulness in wine making. I am completely aware of the
fact many of you may consider this as questionable and, last but not the
least, undoubtedly subjective. Good and bad, there is no doubt about this, are
concepts deeply bound to the culture and personality of each one of us: what I
may consider good could be considered bad by others and vice versa. After all,
it would also be boring in case everyone would like the same things and in the
same measure.
It is however undeniable the scent of wine is an element telling in a quite
precise way its story and life, from vineyard to glass. From intensity
to cleanness, the scent of wine is capable of telling about a grape, territory
and the ones who transformed it into wine. Likewise, it tells about the ones
who have been in charge of keeping the bottle and to serve it. The scent of
wine also tells many things about the personality of the one who drinks it. It
is a sensorial element that, most of the times, meets the idea of the reference
wine making model of each one of us. The aromas of wine, in fact, have the
property to be shaped - like to say - in function of the result to be
obtained and according to the type of consumers to which are being destined.
Every thing done in the vineyard and in the winery, as well as in bottling and
consumption, has the property of affecting the scent of wine. Grape, in
particular, is the primary element giving the fundamental factors, by strongly
claiming - and in function of how it has been processed - its identity or its
abuse. Territory, too, is certainly nothing less: each one of them -
considered as the union of soil and environment - has the power to give its
character to wine aromas. Wines produced from grapes cultivated in clay
soil have very different aromas from the ones cultivated in sandy soils: the
same grape expresses different olfactory personalities. Also time, better to
say, the age of vine, has the property of determining the scent of wine. Wines
produced with young grapes do not have the same strength and expressiveness of
those which have lived many harvests in the course of their lives.
The scent of wine is everything, or at least, a very important part. It
certainly is for me because, as far as I am concerned, the primary pleasure of
wine tasting is represented by its aromas. To put the nose in a glass is always
something giving emotions, both positive and negative ones. The smell
originating from the glass is capable of telling the whole story of a wine and
of the ones who made it, a genuine and loyal quality talking about techniques,
territories, time and honesty. The story of wine aromas is also made from the
ones which faded away - because of man's fault, producer or consumer - and the
ones developing with time. Transformations capable of drastically changing,
even significantly, the whole aroma profile of a young wine, even by completely
changing its recognizability. Light aromas and strong aromas, arrogant or
gentle, all of them contribute to the emotion a wine is capable of giving the
nose.
There are wines, and this is absolutely my opinion, capable of catching your
attention for a long time, even for hours, while others seem to be more
superficial and end their story in few minutes. It should be said that, no
matter what, every wine, with no exception, is worth of the attention of each
one of our senses, even in case they do not exactly meet our taste. Certain
wines, maybe because I have a strong passion for them, seem to be made for
being continuously smelt, they also have the power to make you forget what you
have in your glass should also be appreciated for its taste. I am talking about
fortified and sweet wines - Marsala, Jerez, Porto and Noble Rots in particular
- with them it is very easy to get lost in fantastic dreams enchanted by
the endless evolution of their aromas. Nuances continuously developing,
magically endless.
The scent of wine is a sort of officiant in the ritual of the meeting with men:
just like a handshake, it gives you the idea of the one who is in front of you.
You understand how much you can get along with a wine: its initial aromas, most
of the times, represent the signal which will determine the chance of making
friends or not. Dirty aromas, not always clean and limpid, spoiled by
alien elements to wine, of course do not invite to the chance of getting
to know a wine better. It is like, when you meet someone, he or she is telling
you evident and odd lies. I am aware of the fact each one of us considers the
lies of a wine in a very subjective way and, sometimes, indisputable.
The same is true for genuine stories, of course. In the enthusiasm of catching
all the wine aromas - and to me wine aromas represent the most important part -
sometimes are also perceived evident lies. Not truly clean aromas, not
truly meeting my personal concept of a sound and well made wine. It is right
these wines which make me lose the enthusiasm of what I consider the highest
pleasure in a wine. A dirty smell, and therefore deceitful, offends the wine
and the one who appreciate it. In case the lie is told with the pretension of
truth, like an absolute dogma, this also offends intelligence, for the little
that can be.
Antonello Biancalana
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