How much do we need to know about wine in order to enjoy it?

you don't need to be "that guy" in order to enjoy wine!

As anyone with even a mild interest in fermented grape juice is aware, there are many misconceptions that people have about wine--for example, that all wines bottled under screwcap are cheap, that "dry" means the same thing as "tannic," or that sulfites in wine cause headaches (look for all of these myths to be debunked in future blog posts!). But one of the most harmful misconceptions out there is that you need to be knowledgeable about wine in order to enjoy it. This belief has caused many people to eschew wine in favor of beverages like beer or vodka, which they feel they have permission to imbibe without having to think about it too much. "Winophobics" fear that they will not be able to appreciate the often expensive beverage without being well-versed in its nuances, or that there will be some sort of exam that they will fail and embarrass themselves in front of the sommelier or a snooty colleague. 


A few years ago, I asked a beer-loving friend if she wanted to accompany me to a Friday evening wine tasting at Alphabet City Wine Co. in New York, a fun and laid-back store with friendly and knowledgeable staff and a great wine selection. She looked as if I had just asked her to help me give my great-grandfather a sponge bath. 


"But--I wouldn't know what to say about the wines!" she stammered, a look of panic flashing across her face. 


Confused, I replied, "do you think they're going to quiz you on the wines or something? You don't need to say anything about them. You just drink them. It's fun."


We ended up skipping the tasting and going out for beers instead, but since that conversation I have often thought about the peculiar link between wine enjoyment and knowledge. There is no other food or beverage that I can think of that people feel they actually cannot enjoy without knowing a lot about it. Sure, there is plenty to learn about cheese, mushrooms, or even whiskey, that may make their consumption somewhat more enjoyable, but, personal taste aside, I have never seen anyone refuse the chance to try any of those things based on a lack of sufficient understanding thereof. 


The fact of the matter is, unless you are trying to become a wine professional, all you really need to know is whether or not a wine tastes good to you personally. Sure, it can be fun to learn more, especially when you find a region or grape variety that you particularly enjoy. But this can only enhance cognitive pleasure, not sensory pleasure. That is to say, recognizing that the mysterious liquid you just sipped is a Burgundy from the 2006 vintage will give you the same satisfaction as acing a difficult question on a math test, but it will not make the wine taste any better.


Conversely, knowledge of wine can sometimes actually reduce your enjoyment of the beverage. Having too much information about a particular wine--for example, that the producer has an excellent reputation, that it came from a superior vintage, or that someone like Robert Parker gave it 100 points--may cause you to set your expectations of quality too high. It's kind of like finally going to see a movie after hearing rave reviews for months--very few can live up to that kind of buildup. 


Last year, Sarah and I were at a restaurant that is well-known for its excellent wine selection. The bartender had overheard enough of our conversation to know that we are total wine nerds, and generously began to pour us blind tastes of every bottle he had open. When I sipped one of them, I felt as if I had reached some sort of enlightenment. I suddenly understood the reason for all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding wine. I turned to Sarah, and managed to utter a short, staccato sentence: "This. Is. The best. Wine. I have ever. Tasted."


Smirking, the bartender interjected, "don't drink that too fast. It's DRC."


This was one of those record-scratch moments for me. For the uninitiated, DRC stands for Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, the Burgundy estate considered to be one of the best (and certainly the most expensive) wine producers on the planet. I had always longed to try one of their wines, but believed my lack of sufficient income would be an insurmountable roadblock.  I was thrilled to discover that, independently of its reputation, I thoroughly enjoyed such a highly sought-after wine. Sarah, however, had not yet had a chance to taste it before the revelation was made. She took a sip.


"I mean, it's good," she shrugged, "but it's not amazing." We will never know for sure, but I suspect if it had been Sarah who had taken the first sip, our evaluations might have been reversed. 

Psychology can have a massive impact on the way we experience wine. There have been many experiments where wine professionals have been swayed in their evaluations of wine by subtle psychological cues. In 2001, University of Bordeaux researcher Frédéric Brochet conducted two revealing experiments that are often recalled today when discussing the subjectivity of wine. In the first one, fifty-seven wine professionals were asked to evaluate two glasses of wine--one white and one red. The experts marveled at the "jamminess" and "crushed red fruit" of the latter, completely unaware that both glasses contained the same white wine, one of which had been tinted with red food coloring. Not one of them noticed this. 

In the second experiment, an average-quality Bordeaux wine was poured into two different bottles--one a high-end, well-respected Grand Cru, and the other just a regular vin de table. I'm sure you can guess how the ratings differed between the two wines! The "Grand Cru" was heralded as being “agreeable, woody, complex, balanced and rounded,” while the "vin de table" was derided as “weak, short, light, flat and faulty." 


We like to play these tricks with people as well (but don't worry, we will always come clean immediately after!). If you tell us you hate Merlot but love Cabernet Sauvignon, there's a good chance we will pour you a small taste of Merlot and say "try this Cab!" We don't do it to be cruel, but rather to help you free your mind from the prejudices you may have developed from listening to other people talk about wine. If you aren't sure what wine you would like to try and I pour you a taste, I generally won't tell you what it is until after you've formed your thoughts on it. Your opinion should not be influenced by where it's from or who made it. By paying attention to our own tastebuds rather than our highly suggestible brains, we can become more comfortable with the idea of tasting wine.


-Nikki

Note: if this subject interests you and you would like to read some thought-provoking discussion about it, I highly recommend the book Questions of Taste: The Philosophy of Wine. It is by no means a light read, but it's fascinating!