If There's No Such Thing As a Bad Vintage, Then There's No Such Thing As a Bad Flavor
Only disharmony between flavors.
About 10 years back, a study was conducted to determine if trained wine tasters could determine if a wine was from a declared "good vintage" or a "bad vintage" when all the wines were from quality winemakers. The result? "The tasters would have been just as well off flipping a coin."1
The reason is that quality winemakers know how to respond to "vintage variation", making quality wine from any vintage, whatever that year's climate conditions. This new thought has since permeated most of the wine industry, with the new wisdom being "There's no such thing as a 'bad vintage'."
Now I want to take that logic one step further - if there's no such thing as a bad vintage, then there's no such thing as a bad flavor, either.
There will of course be flavors that you, personally, don't enjoy. There will be flavors that challenge you becaue they are new to your palate. There will be flavors that remain delicious in large doses while others must remain dialed back, as a small part of a greater whole. But theoretically nothing should be outright criticized merely for existing in any quantity. The point of flavors, much like vintage variation, is managing the nature of the fruit to create a harmony between all the flavors and aromas in the final wine.
Brettanomyces is a yeast strain that's known for creating "barnyard" or "manure" scents and flavors in wine. It's known as one of the key "faults" that can occur in a wine. Yet in small enough doses, Brettanomyces (or "Brett") can often enhance a wine's complexity and richness.
Likewise, there was once a time when none other than Michel Chapoutier argued that the "petroleum" note characteristic to aged Riesling was a fault.2 Those who loved Riesling claimed it was ideal, so long as it was not overpowering. But there were those who argued it was always undesirable. This argument raged throughout the 00's and early 2010's.
For myself, I've noticed many still denigrate the "burnt rubber" smell and flavor of certain grapes such as Pinotage and Carmenere, celebrating certain bottles or vintages only if the winemakers had tamed this characteristic nearly to extinction. Also the "foxy" (or "musky") flavors and aromas of native American grapes and hybrids. All of which I frankly really, really enjoy. At least if these flavors and aromas are in balance with all the other flavors and aromas present in the wine.
There is nothing inherently more unpleasant in muskiness or burnt rubber than there is in petroleum or barnyard. There is nothing inherently more unpleasant in any of the above compared to fresh churned earth, grass, garrigue, wet stone, or leather. In all cases, these are not things we would ever seek out for gustatorial pleasure. And yet, in a product as complex as wine, if the flavor is in harmony with the all the others, we will deem it delicious.
We live in a time when "purity of fruit" is a treasured phrase, held up to represent the pinnacle of proper winemaking. So then why wouldn't we want the characteristics of certain grapes - the purity of those fruits in specific - to shine? Do we really believe there is no way for a new flavor we haven't spent much time on mastering to win us over if a passionate winemaker devotes the time to indeed master it?
I have been so impressed with wines made from native American grapes and hybrids in recent years. I think I might love appley Chardonnel over lemony Chardonnay, full stop. The foxy yet demure nature of a light bodied Delaware or a bolder Le Colonel (coming in tomorrow’s podcast!) Don’t even get me started on the joys of Chambourcin or Catawba.
There is no such thing as a bad vintage, because quality winemakers know how to manage the vintage variation. And equally, there is no such thing as a bad flavor, when managed with equal precision. We are living in a present where dry fruit wine from every fruit is being explored. Where indigenous grapes are making a comeback, hybrids are overtaking some Vitis vinifera, and cultural cuisines that were never a part of the wine pairing lexicon are now being paired, successfully.
It’s a glorious time to be a wine appreciator. (Well, maybe not financially.) But if you’re one of those who appreciates the complex and challenging nature of the beverage, then keep that mind open, and simply seek out quality winemakers. And don’t close yourself off to either year or yumminess.
Why You Shouldn’t Worry About A Wine’s Vintage, Adam Teeter, VinePair, Feb 2015
Petrol smell in Riesling ‘a mistake’: Chapoutier, Adam Lechmere, Decanter, 2011
You hit it on the head, Dave, when you mention "balance" as being the key. A little Brett (the barnyard fecund strain, not the band-aid one!) can add to the deliciousness of a wine. I hope that "Bad" and "Good" have left the wine lexicon, slump-shouldered and red-faced. It was easier in the past when there were "classic" aromas and flavors for Bordeaux and Burgundy. When there were only a couple of places that made "quality" wines, they were the benchmarks...their signatures were like John Hancock's. Now, though, the rise of wines from newer parts of the world have tipped acceptable organoleptics on their head. But no matter how different Cab Franc from California is than Chinon, if the wines are not balanced and cohesive they are not 'good" wines. Balance, a synonym for Beautiful wines in my language, are proportionate and appropriate for the grape. Oaked Cab Franc in any language is a sin.
Love this take!
Can we take it another step forward and apply this to wine pairings? The idea that certain combinations of flavor (like a pyrazine-y, tannic carmenere) can and should be paired with spicy food if the goal is to accentuate the structure and the usually “undesirable” greenness?
Or is that too far? 😂