There seems to be no end to the scents and flavors that people detect while giving their first impression of a wine. Could they really be tasting all those fruit flavors; black currant, blackberry, cherry, pineapple, lemon, lime, peach, apricot, apple and pear? And how about those non-fruit flavors? Wine is made from grapes, so how do you explain descriptors such as leather, tobacco, coffee, mineral and nutty? In this article I won’t even try to explain terms like petroleum, forest floor, Band-Aid and cat pee. Yes, they are real and valid wine descriptors, but I will save them for another discussion.
The answer comes to us through chemistry. Now, before your eyes glaze over, it’s really very simple. Everything is made up of chemical compounds. Each type of fruit has “flavor compounds” that produce its specific scent and taste. These chemicals that are so abundant in their respective fruits can also be present in much smaller amounts in wine grapes. In fact, grapes are known to have an astounding number of these compounds from all over the “vegetable kingdom.” Other chemical compounds called esters and aldehydes are responsible for even more flavors and are created during the fermentation process. This is why, upon tasting a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, you may often detect the flavor of grapefruit. It’s not because the winemaker mixed some Ocean Spray Ruby Red into the vat. It’s because the specific chemical compounds that grapefruits get their flavor from exist naturally in very small amounts in those grapes. Through the magic of winemaking, these flavors become more noticeable and voilà, you detect the taste of one fruit in the fermented juice of another. These compounds, along with other influences such as the use of oak barrels and various winemaking techniques, also explain the non-fruit descriptors which fall into the categories of earth or wood.
Knowing that these scents and flavors truly exist is a long way from actually detecting them. Evaluating wine accurately by sight, smell and taste takes discipline and practice. I know that sounds like the world’s greatest job for a wine lover, but you have to realize that true wine professionals spend hours at a time tasting wines and spitting each one out. As much as this sounds like heresy (and a little gross) it’s the only real way to train your palate.
The next time you can’t taste a flavor that someone else claims is in the wine, just remember; maybe it’s in there and maybe it’s not. The important thing is that you keep tasting and keep trying. With practice, you begin to improve your palate and your confidence.

It used to be that whenever I went out to dinner I loved reading through the wine list, but absolutely hated having to order from it. How would I know which wine would live up to all my expectations for the night? How would I know which one would impress my companion, sound right when I attempted to order it, perfectly complement a meal I hadn’t even decided on yet, and hopefully not leave me with purple teeth for the rest of the evening?
So, I would search through the names, looking for them to give me some sort of hint, and eventually decide on a vodka & tonic instead. Who wants all that pressure before the date even gets going?
Now, instead of agonizing, I either look for a couple of familiar qualities, ask for suggestions, or just opt for an impulsive risk with my wine. I used to think that price was a strict measure of how good a wine would taste, but more and more wineries are putting out great-tasting wines in an affordable price range. I’m a Pinot Noir fan myself, so even faced with a wine list of all unfamiliar wines, I know my odds of liking a moderately priced Pinot are pretty good. And, chances are it will work well with most meals, being the non-confrontational varietal that it is.
Don’t feel like you have to succumb to outdated rules of white with fish and red with meat. The heart of the idea is that you don’t want your wine to overpower the flavors of your food, or vice versa.
If we’re going along with the dating metaphor, you want them to have good conversation. If you don’t have a particular varietal that appeals to you, don’t hesitate to ask your server for suggestions. They should know which go best with a particular meal, are most popular, or could meet your preference of dry, fruity, buttery, spicy, earthy, or whatever other descriptions you have to throw at them. That’s what they’re there for, after all.
Or, if it all just seems like too many choices, close your eyes and pick. Someone has put time and effort into compiling a list of wines with the sole purpose of pleasing you. Even if this glass of wine isn’t a perfect match, at worst it’s a learning experience. Choosing wine when dining out is like a little date in itself.

If I were a winery owner, I’d love to produce a wine that makes a top 100 list. I wouldn’t have to work as hard selling my wine. People all over the country would be beefing up their orders, and retailers would see their racks quickly emptied and order more.
Some consumers are attracted to Top 100 lists. They take comfort in the affirmation print journalism gives them in their wine selections among zillions of choices. They defend their reliance on another’s palate as a useful tool because they are too busy or too broke to try out every wine available to make up their minds. But there is a Top 100 wine list they might want to avoid.
It’s the “Top 100 Brands & 100 Individual Wines in USA Restaurants in 2007” unveiled recently by Restaurant Wine magazine.
A lot of wine was sold in American restaurants last year- 68.8 million cases of it- and all the top 100 came from only 6 countries: Australia, Chile, France, Germany, Italy and the USA. No New Zealand, no Spain, no Argentina.
The most popular wines had names familiar to anyone walking the aisles of the local Rite-Aid. The top 20 include names such as Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay, Beringer White Zinfandel and Cavit Pinot Grigio.
The minimum number of cases needed to make the top 100 list was 80,000 cases of a single wine! If you knew nothing at all about these wines, know this: a vintner can’t afford to be too fussy with the quality of his grapes when he needs that kind of gallonage to fill all those orders.
We get people in The Wine Country that tell us they never drink white wine or never drink red wine. After looking at this list, I think I know why. If the only wines they ever encountered were wines somebody else ordered at a hotel banquet room or a family chain restaurant, it’s no wonder America is 34th in the world in per capita wine consumption.
There are still a lot of Americans who drink no wine at all. Some have religious reasons, some have health concerns and others have only experienced wines with names like Yellow Tail and Sutter Home.
As a conscientious wine merchant, last month I felt an obligation to find out for myself just what corporate winemaking was up to. I made two buying trips to local supermarkets which specialize in “premium” wine, some with famous names like Beringer, BV, Robert Mondavi and Chateau St. Jean. All were affordable by my definition, under $15 per bottle. Many were under $10.
The label and glass designs of many wines were beautiful and impressive, and most had corks.
I went through some 40 wines from three popular varietals: Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Chardonnay. They had designations like “California,” “Coastal” and “Central Coast” when their anchor wineries were located in Napa Valley or Sonoma. They were, in essence, cheap knockoffs of famous brands, like a Gucci you buy from a street vendor.
None of these wines was technically bad, mind you. But, jeez, they were boring to drink. Some had stemmy flavors, and most had bitter aftertastes because of the deliberate oak-chip tea-bags used to impart flavor.
And all were about as natural and fresh tasting as canned fruit cocktail. With wood shavings.
If restaurateurs were hauled into food court I’d sentence every manager that serves these to his customers to drink them every night for a year. Maybe then they’d put something sensible on their list, like good Beaujolais.
Ironically, the best food wines on the list are probably the White Zinfandels for their ability to handle all the sweet and spice in popular dishes, and perhaps the jug Chablis for its simple fruitiness. I wouldn’t hold out much hope for these factory-made, thin-tasting, uninspiring Pinot Grigios, but perhaps they’d work out O.K. with the right dish.
To be fair, it’s tough to offer a hand-made artisan wine at a price most restaurants want for their high-profit glass-pours. The cost of the grapes and intensive labor needed to make that kind of wine are price-prohibitive. But not always.
There are still values out there that make a meal sing. Imports from Spain and non-hip regions like France’s Côtes de Gascogne offer fresh-tasting, fruit-and terroir-driven wines whose major goal in life is to help make your dinner table a happy place. Another is Beaujolais, a supremely drinkable and versatile food wine from a wine region once indispensible to every quality wine list, and now inexplicably rare.
For California, I’ve always been an advocate of J. Lohr’s juicy, delicious, easy-drinking Gamay-like Valdigiué as the quintessential red food wine and the Ruby-Cabernet of James Arthur Field’s Red Wine ($7.99 per magnum!) is about as good a hamburger wine as any.
True Chablis (chardonnay from France’s Chablis region) is a comparative value next to overwrought premium domestic and imported Chardonnay, and there are many yummy ones available for less money. You don’t want one made in 80,000 case quantities, though.
While most Americans who drink wine say they drink it with meals, I think most drink wine just to drink it because they find the flavors more compelling than booze or beer. But there are three kinds of wines now dominating the scene today: complex wines that make a statement all by themselves, simple wines whose major role is to provide fruit and acidity to a meal, and wines grown and designed to maximize corporate profits.
I don’t mind making a buck, but wine, like fresh produce, should taste a lot better than what our modern restaurant and grocery store chains offer.

I am frequently asked by customers to put on a “wine tasting” for their private party here at the restaurant or sometimes when we cater at their homes. On face value, this sounds like a simple enough request and something that is right up my alley. In theory it is, but over the years I have learned to ask several very important questions.
1. Are the people attending interested in learning about wine or just drinking wine?
2. Are the people attending going to be happy tasting small amounts of a wide variety of wines instead of a glass of their favorite?
3. For a “wine tasting” you will need a knowledgeable person to pick the wine, serve the wine, describe the wine and answer questions from the guests about the wine. For an event that is just offering wine as one of the refreshments, all you need is a bartender.
4. Will the people attending be told in advance the exact nature of the event or will they discover when they arrive that a “wine tasting” is what they are expected to participate in?
One of the most important rules of entertaining is that the party should be all about your guests. No one wants to hang out in your living room all night, entertaining themselves, while you’re stuck in the kitchen cooking those dishes you found in Gourmet magazine that you thought would “blow them away.” Likewise, you don’t want to offend or embarrass any of your guests. Be sure a wine tasting theme is right for your guests. Is anyone pregnant? Does anyone have moral or religious objections to drinking alcohol? Did you invite Bubba who got in a fist fight at your last party because someone made a disparaging remark about his favorite light beer? I’m sure you can see my point.
“Wine tastings” are great and generally work well for small groups, just keep in mind; they are really all about the wine. If the guests either don’t know about it or are not actually interested in it, the event can easily become awkward or downright boring. If you make sure it is the right theme for the guests and the type of event you are having, everyone will have a great time. I love wine tastings and love hosting them. If you are serious about it, I say bring it on!

There is a lot of psychological power in a wine score based upon the 100-point scoring system invented by critic Robert Parker when you see one on the shelf of a wine department or in a wine magazine. Those numbers readily transfer to our deepest, darkest memories, dredging up fearful collective memories of our school days.
Everybody knows what a score of 94 means (good) and what getting a 78 means (a very bad night at home). We are not even interested in reading a description of the wine-we only react to the numerical score.
I must tell you good lovers of fine wine an unpleasant reality. The 100-point wine scoring scale is a terrible way to select wine. Giving points to wine, a beverage that changes its aroma and taste from second to second, month to month and year to year is misleading at best and irrelevant to the consumer whose taste is as personal as a fingerprint. Assigning a static number to a moving target is impossible.
The 100 point system is a joke, concluded author Elin McCoy after conducting exhausting research for her Robert Parker biography The Emperor of Wine.
Years ago, my friend Jack McLaughlin had made an equally pointed observation. What does 90 points tell you about your wine? Whether or not it will taste good with what you are cooking tonight? Whether you will like its taste and enjoy it?
In a scathing exposé in the Los Angeles Times recently, writer Jerry Hirsch revealed that the “90-Point Wine” promotion of a certain mega liquor chain included highly rated wines that were actually scored by one of its very own employees.
Wines he has to sell, of course.
I know the argument that people are too busy to explore all the wines available to find out what they should buy and need a shortcut. But the 100 point system isn’t it. There are even limitations to describing wines-cherries, berries, leather and mocha-that you read in wine reviews. Nobody tastes these things in wine after they read these reviews.
The best way to learn about new wines is to develop a personal relationship with a good wine merchant and discuss your preferences. Also, try to taste as many wines as you can by attending tastings, visiting wineries, hosting dinner parties where people bring wines to match the food.
And take good notes. Not wine-speak notes, but your impressions, in your own words.
Remember, wine is for pleasure-your pleasure. It’s not to get too serious about.
A Great Idea for Your New Rebate Checks!
You didn’t really ask for this, did you? But they’re coming soon. Rebate checks, I mean. This month our government is mailing us each $600 it borrowed from China.
So it’s just like funny money. Off-budget.
You could blow it all in Vegas, which would give a new meaning to the term “stimulus package.” Or you could pay off your credit card bills…but that’s not what your elected monkeys intended. It’s a month too late to put it in your IRA. I rather think the powers that be planned it that way. The government wants you to spend it in retail shops. You know it’s your patriotic duty to spend it, don’t you? Honest.
The hard part is choosing what to buy with your sudden government windfall. The fact that you are gazing at a wine column may suggest which way you are leaning. One sure way to support Old Glory and have some great fun at the same time is to purchase a few cases of your favorite wine at your favorite wine store.
But which wine? Should it be exclusively domestic wine to be truly patriotic? Some would argue that wines, like presidents, must be born here to be truly worthy of the national rebate. But others, particularly those with Austrian accents, might argue these kinds of restrictions are dangerously xenophobic and nativist. After all, this is a nation of immigrants. Immigrants from places called Burgundy, Bordeaux, Champagne, Sancerre, Rioja, Barolo, Porto, Germany, Austria, Australia, New Zealand and such.
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled Vouvray. But don’t give me any friggin’ Languedoc Merlot!
Examine your own conscience to decide what is right, and then have some fun. My wife is buying Champagne with our check.

Today on page 12 we launch our newest column—The Wine Press—an informational, educational and entertaining bit of news written by Dave Solzman and Randy Kemner. The two will take turns writing the monthly feature. I am convinced that their expertise and dry (not brut) senses of humor will please and tease our readers’ minds and palates.
Dave (along with his wife Louise) owns Delius Restaurant—a rather upscale dining establishment in Signal Hill. Randy is the owner of the Wine Country, also located in Signal Hill. It is an adult beverage retail establishment also known for its wine tastings, gourmet accoutrements and beautiful wine baskets. Both of these gentlemen tell me their purpose in writing the column is to demystify wining and dining and to make the subject less stuffy and intimidating.
I’ve suggested they teach our readers (and me) how to do things properly—such as food pairings (i.e.: what wine goes with chicken or what appetizers will complement that special bottle of champagne or imported beer)—or even what to order on a first date or special occasion.
They will also keep us all up to date on happenings at other local businesses—such as wine tastings or special dinners.
On a personal note—I have known both of these men for many years. Randy and I go way back. We both grew up with fathers who served as Signal Hill elected officials. His dad was on the city council—mine was city treasurer. Our paths have crossed many times over the decades—especially when Randy’s sister Kris and her family lived across the street from Steve and me. They have since moved to Catalina and we still miss them. I also have a rather nice relationship with Randy’s mom Barbara. She is a dear lady and a nice neighbor. I often see her when I’m driving to work. I stop and we exchange a few words—sometimes just a quick hello. One thing’s for sure—she’s sure proud of her kids.
Dave and I met many years ago when he and Louise bought the original Delius on Long Beach Boulevard. I was selling advertising for the original Signal Newspaper. They were so busy that there were times when I would have to make my in-person sales calls to them late in the evening or chat with them between courses. Those were the days.
Through the years, the group of us has evolved personally and professionally—yet one thing stays the same— we respect each other. I am honored to have them writing for us. Let me know what you think. Bon appetit—and cheers!