Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! A series of events this weekend got me thinking about wine tasting notes, and describing wines in general. When I fell in love with wine, one of the reasons I was drawn to winemaking as opposed to, say, becoming a sommelier, is that I knew the limitations of my palate. I view the ability to smell and taste the nuances of a wine as a true talent. Contrast that to the act of winemaking, which to a great extent is more like learning the skill of a chemistry lab technician (but a lot sexier).

This weekend Kim and I had dinner out with some friends, and offered a little tasting of my aging Dry Run wines before we headed out.
Mind you, I know the taste of my wines very well, but invariably I use the same adjectives to describe them as I do every other wine I drink.
To me, wine is either heavy, medium or light.
It is either oaky, or not oaky.
And I might throw the word “buttery” around if I’m drinking a Chardonnay.
That’s pretty much all I’ve got.
So much so that when we played the game of trying to name the flavors highlighted on the label of the Malbec we enjoyed at dinner, I struck out in identifying the “plum, cherry, currant and pepper” that the winemaker insisted were present.
Pathetic.

The next day, Kim and I treated ourselves to a little wine and chocolate paring at
Black Ankle Vineyards (by far the best winery in
Maryland).
To no surprise, I was unable to pick up on the “cranberry and tapenade” flavors that were prevalent in their 2008 Syrah, not to mention the “hints of savory maple and bacon.”
Bacon?
In your Syrah?
Really?
I’m not sure I ever would have come up with that.
But in an act of resilience, I decided to have a bottle of it for breakfast this morning just to check.