Jargon Central: Body (and a little Typicity too)

As I mentioned when writing about acidity, body is one of the four critical elements in tasting wine (flavor, body, acid, tannin).  Other words that can be used as synonyms for body are mouthfeel and viscosity.

Descriptors

The body of a wine is generally called light, medium, or full. On the full side of the spectrum, you will sometimes see fun words like unctuous used as well.

Influencing Factors

In general, higher alcohol content leads to fuller body. Similarly, higher residual sugar equates to fuller body.

Evaluation

The best way to evaulate body is to taste the wine, and here is the analogy that I have found most useful:

Light-bodied : Skim milk ::

Medium-bodied : 2% milk ::

Full-bodied : Whole milk ::

Unctuous : Whipping cream

Another method for evaluating body is to swirl the wine in the glass and look at the viscosity of the “legs” or “tears” as it runs down the side of the glass. And this is a nice segue into the next topic:

Ratings (Me)

When I write a tasting note, I frequently reference the body of the wine, but body has absolutely no impact on how I rate a wine. Why? Because body does not equal quality! There is a common misconception that fuller-bodied wines are better wines, such that if you can’t see a wine’s “legs” on the glass, then it is probably cheap plonk. Untrue!

Some varietals are, by their nature, lighter-bodied. Pinot Noir, for example, is typically light-to-medium bodied. Gamay Noir (the grape used to make Beaujolais) is light-bodied. This doesn’t make them lower in quality. In fact, lighter bodied wines can be more subtle, complex, and elegant than their full-throttle cousins.

I suspect that “light” has taken on pejorative connotations, especially in the United States, due to products like these:

In the future, I am going to try to use “delicate” to describe lighter bodies in the hopes of avoiding any unintentional negative biasing.

Ratings (Professionals)

While I don’t rate wines based on body, some professional reviewers do, and their ratings of body are really ratings related to typicity. Typicity is another tricky term that basically means, “does this wine taste like a typical [insert varietal].” So, some reviewers would ding a full-bodied Pinot Noir because it lacks varietal typicity. Of course, that begs the question: who decides what a typical Pinot Noir should taste like? Well, the French of course! (Just kidding. Vive La France!) In reality, each reviewer has his/her own definition of typicity and makes a decision about the shouldiness of each wine (that’s a word I just made up to describe how much a wine tastes like it should; feel free to use it).

Some folks call bullshit on the whole typicity judgement, arguing that it stifles creativity in winemaking and is akin to wine stereotyping. On the other side of the fence, what the hell is the point of making a Pinot Noir that tastes like a Syrah, unless you want to have a gotcha moment during a blind tasting (hmmmm… those can be fun). I guess I come down slightly on the side of those who argue for typicity, but my mind is still open on this topic.

Jargon Central: Post-Off Pricing

Washington state requires producers and distributors to post their pricing to a central database maintained by the state’s liquor control board. When these producers and distributors post discounts, that is called “post-off pricing.”

This term is especially meaningful right now. Why? Well, until January 2008, Washington had something called “post-and-hold” requirements, whereby posted prices had to remain constant for at least 30 days. On January 29, The Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals struck down post-and-hold.

As of December 2008, price-posting still exists, but there are no time requirements around how long a price must be posted. Since this is the first holiday season without post-and-hold, it will be interesting to see if distributors respond with lots of quick post-off deals.

If I learn of especially juicy deals at Cellar 46, I will pass those along. Also, I will be working at Cellar 46 this Sunday and Monday, and I encourage you to drop by if you want to talk about holiday wines or gift wines. I don’t work on a commission model, so I promise not to push $75, single-vineyard Dunhams on you (although they are delicious).

Jargon Central: Acidity

I still consider myself in the beginner-intermediate range when it comes to wine knowledge. Part of what makes the subject fairly intimidating is the sheer amount of jargon and terminology. As I learn more and hear definitions that resonate with me, I will post them in the Jargon Central category.

I have referenced acidity on numerous occasions in my tasting notes already. To me, it is one of the four critical elements in tasting wine (flavor, body/mouthfeel, acid, tannin). The best way to think about acid in wines is to compare it to seasoning in foods. The miracle of salt is that it makes foods taste more like themselves; it makes a steak taste more, well, steaky. It increases the inherent broccolanity of broccoli. Altogether, it enhances and strengthens flavors.

When salt is absent, even good, well-prepared food tastes dull, and it is the same for acidity in wines. When you see wines described as “dull” or “flabby” you can bet that wine has a dearth of acid. The right amount of acid makes a wine taste bright in your mouth. It enlivens berry flavors and makes them shimmer across your palate. Of course, much like with salt, acid can be over-done. Typically, too much acid leads to wine whose tartness is actively unpleasant. In white wines, this comes across to me as aggressively-tart Granny Smith apple flavors; in reds, I get Ocean Spray cranberry juice.

When drinking wine with food, good acidity is especially important, because acid also has the magic ability to cleanse palates. After you have swallowed a forkful of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, can-shaped cranberry sauce, and gravy, do you really want to fatigue your palate with another bite of the same? Instead, try washing that bite down with a high-acid Riesling. Then your next bite will be as exciting as your last (as exciting as turkey can be, anyway).