Putting the cart before the horse

I am taking up, expanding on, an old editorial from 2017 that I feel is really very timely.

During one of the last visits to the Cote d’Or, the true Eldorado of Burgundy, one of the most famous vignerons in the area, to a specific technical request from me about one of his wines, replied thus, “You taste it, then if you like it I will tell you how I made it.” A very reasonable and also very correct and intelligent attitude that prioritizes the organoleptic value of wines before the “ideological” one. All in perfect assonance with the Good, Clean and Fair canon advocated years ago by Carlo Petrini, Slow Food’s “lider maximo,” in a famous book of his of the same title. “Good” comes first, in short, and only after that can we talk about anything else.

Very often, however, someone forgets, or pretends to forget, this elementary principle, and we hear talk that frankly sounds very strange indeed. “You know, it’s organic and we are in biodynamic conversion,” said before even pouring the wine into the glass, or stated by the representative on duty to facilitate the sale. Implying that if it is the result of “organic” viticulture it must still be good and better than others. Or “if you don’t like this biodynamic wine, it is only because you are too used to drinking standardized wines and don’t know how to recognize its quality,” which would be like saying that if a book has content in line with my ideas, then it can also be written in an ungrammatical and almost incomprehensible way by a semi-illiterate author.

Petrini himself might respond that this is like putting the cart before the horse, because it is perfectly fine, indeed, it is an important and welcome thing, whether that particular wine is the end result of grapes from a sustainable viticulture and by minimally invasive winery practices, provided, however, that its organoleptic characteristics are pleasant, that we do not confuse brettanomyces with misplaced terroir characteristics, with which it has nothing to do, or that volatile acidity does not cover up the aromas more in keeping with the type, as we unfortunately hear and see done in several places.

In short, let us not pass off obvious defects for who knows what strange manifestations of a “different” and better quality for unspecified reasons. This is an attitude that is also sometimes seen by several sommeliers of famous establishments who, by now, if a wine does not have specifications of an unclear “naturalness,” if it is not the result of fermentations with “indigenous” yeasts, if it does not show opalescence in its visual appearance because it has not been filtered or because it has undergone a protein crates, then it would not even be considered for inclusion on their lists.

And this is the case even if the dishes that various chefs propose are so delicate that they can ill withstand pairing with a “macerated” white or a red with gangly tannins because they are not “tamed” by a stay in wood, which would make them polymerize, making them more approachable. Technical considerations that should not, however, be underestimated by those responsible for proposing a combination of wine and food that should enhance both and not create contrasts that are difficult to resolve, penalize one and the other, and also create problems for the taste of the final consumer.

To me personally it created them a real match where an, admittedly excellent, Karst white, the result of maceration on the skins, literally slapped a carpaccio of sea bass delicately seasoned with oil, orange juice and light spices. I asked my chef friend, “But why do you let yourself ruin that dish with such a risky pairing?” And he replied, “With my sommelier there is no reasoning anymore, I just don’t know what to do.”

Oenological consistency, aimed at enhancing the best characteristics of a wine, which then leads to pleasing organoleptic notes, results in fewer problems in pairing and makes wines recognizable and easily placeable within their appellation. If understood in the correct sense, avoiding technological forcing and exaggeration, akin to therapeutic overkill in certain cases, it is an indispensable element and must precede any other consideration. The rest is a commentary that should come later, and is part of the narrative that a producer can make to explain how he managed to make such an interesting wine and so pleasantly representative of his territory.

All so as not to debase sharable practices, such as those of sustainable winemaking, with a trivial commercial subterfuge that does justice to no one and only causes so much confusion.