DRINKING WINE – A BALANCING ACT?
My friend, Billy Ray Hearn, says that “Life is a walk on the high wire with no net. If you lose your balance, you’d better know how to catch yourself.” Well, balance and wine are two things that go together and are always a hot topic of discussion among wine lovers. The dictionary defines balance as “a state of equilibrium” or “equal distribution of weight, amount, etc.”
Balance means something different to different people. My definition is only mine but at this point in my life, it’s the one I like the best. Balance to me means that the three legs of the stool are even. So when you sit on the stool you don’t rock.
The three legs are fruit, acid, and tannin. So on a simplistic level, it means it feels good, even, and harmonious in your mouth. It means there are no sharp edges that stick out. When I judge a wine for quality, my first question is whether I like it. Then I ask myself, “Is it well made? Does it have balance?”
Then I think about the first impression the wine makes in my mouth – “the attack.” This is where we taste the fruitiness of the wine (we taste sweetness on the tip of our tongue). Then I taste the mid palate. Other flavors appear here but always on the sides of my tongue I taste the acid (think the sour part of a lemon drop). Then finally, I taste the tannins in the back of the mouth. (Think very strong tea.)
So here’s where the discussion gets tricky. Can wine with different levels of acid, tannin, and alcohol (alcohol is a reflection of the fruits and the fruits’ ripeness) still produce wines that feel balanced and taste balanced?
Most American wine makers would argue that our higher alcohol wines (wines over 14%) are balanced wines. Most of our old world wine makers would say the wine was not balanced. Who’s right?
When we taste young red Bordeaux, we say the tannins are too sharp but in 10 – 20 years we know that those sharp tannins will be rounder and softer. So is the wine in balance in 10 years and out of balance now?
When we taste big oaky American Chardonnay, two of its components are big. Big fruit (alcohol), big oak (vanilla) and the acid not so big. It’s delicious now, but in 10 years it’s flat. It’s delicious wine that’s out of balance so does that make it bad?
This discussion is like a dog chasing his tail. Or like my debate coach used to say – “circular reasoning.” When we discuss the balance of the wine, let’s consider some of these rules to even the playing field:
First, is the wine delicious – then who cares if it’s balanced. Maybe Master’s of Wine or Master Sommeliers or chemists care, but not most of us. As Larry Beckwith says, “If the steak’s delicious, who cares if it’s Kobe or Angus?”
Second, are there any sharp angular edges immediately obvious in your mouth? Too tart, too tannic, too much alcohol? As an aside, I am alcohol sensitive and if a wine exceeds 14% alcohol, my cheeks get hot. So each of these measures are individual, but if for you something sticks out, then the wine is not balanced.
Third, is something missing? Is there a lack of acidity or fruit flavors or even tannin? It may not stand out as sharp edges, but it may be missing. Missing is bad, too, and the wine is not balanced.
Finally, the only measure of balance we should use is our current point of reference. Whether the wine will be balanced in 10 years is irrelevant at the moment. It’s only relevant if you have more than one bottle and you plan to drink the others in 10 years. So “balance speculation” is irrelevant and the discussion of the wine at the moment you’re tasting it.
If we apply these rules to our discussions of balance in the future, maybe we won’t have so much discussion.
I want to close with a story about Chateau Haut Brion. We did a tasting of 60 vintages back to 1909 of Chateau Haut Brion. The one word that came to me after we tasted each wine was “balanced.” Some wines were better than others obviously but all the wines were balanced. They had “equilibrium.” So it is possible to make wine so well that 50 years or more later the wine is still in harmony. You can sit on the three legged stool and not rock. Last, my quote of the month from Stan Burton: “The gentleman at the table is not full of boorish facts he must share, but enjoys the quiet confidence that, if called on with a question about food and wine, he will know the answer.”
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