Confession time: It absolutely galls me when I’m wrong. And I’m not saying I’m never wrong, but my paradigm prefers to remain firmly where I’ve planted it. This rather pigheaded way of thinking was never more glaringly on display than the day I hesitatingly, grudgingly and uncheerfully agreed that glassware makes a difference in how we enjoy our wine.
I have always adhered to the idea that the people outside a wine glass are far more important than any liquid inside. Given the choice, I’d take a non-descript white Bordeaux in a Dixie cup with friends every time over a 1947 Cheval Blanc in fine crystal with a bunch of fools. I still feel that way.
But whining about glasses sounds so pretentious that I’m reluctant to lend any credibility to the importance of proper glassware and wine. Yet, appropriate glassware is the 500-pound gorilla riding a white elephant that we often choose to ignore.
About 15 years ago — when I clung to my it’s-just-as-good-in-a-jelly-jar mentality — I stood in front of a smiling representative of the Riedel Glass Company of Austria. He was pouring a chardonnay into two fairly similar glasses and I was asked to pick which wine I preferred. Surprise. I chose the Riedel glass.
“Luck!” I accused.
We tried the same exercise again with a different wine. And then again, with the same result both times.
“This is bull-generated fertilizer,” said a frustrated me. The rep, no longer smiling, suggested I move along.
Wrong! Me! Ugh!
Since that day, I’ve come to accept that perceiving the multiple facets of a wine has a lot to do with its smell and, to a lesser extent, how it is delivered onto your tongue. A glass can open a fire hose of aromas that can make a cabernet sauvignon appear overly alcoholic or it can allow delicate aromas to escape unnoticed and make your pinot noir smell like, well, nothing.
Like corrective eyewear, appropriate stemware merely puts a wine in focus so you can experience all its wonders that are right under your nose.
Do you have to own every glass made to enjoy wine? No. A well-made, tulip-shaped-glass with no lip that can hold at least 20 ounces may be all you need. Do you have to spend a mint on glassware? You absolutely can, but I don’t recommend it. Decent glasses, however, are not cheap.
I pay about $6 a piece for my various glasses — some more, some less. And I replace broken glasses at about $6 a piece too, but with identical glasses. That’s the beauty of choosing lines that don’t go out of production. You should count on paying somewhere around this price, too.
Interestingly, the more expensive the glass, the less durable it is. Expensive glasses too delicate for the dishwasher hold no charm over me. And if you never got anything other than an all-purpose red glass, you’d be well served. But over time, consider adding glasses for sparkling, white and pinot noir-based wines.
As I’ve said, wine glasses aren’t cheap, but neither is a decent bottle of wine. If you want to get the most out of that $20 Rioja you just put in your shopping cart, then — like it or not — a small investment in corrective glassware is the price you must pay.
Gil Kulers is a certified wine educator and a consultant for a metro-Atlanta wine shop. You can reach him at gil.kulers@winekulers.com.
2004 Campo Viejo, Gran Reserva, Rioja, Spain
$20
Two Thumbs Up
Engaging aromas of earth, anise-laced biscotti and perfume-like black cherry. Juicy flavors of tart black cherry, espresso, toasted almonds and a subtle pine forest note.
Note: Wines are rated on a scale ranging up from Thumbs Down, One Thumb Mostly Up, One Thumb Up, Two Thumbs Up, Two Thumbs Way Up and Golden Thumb Award. Prices are suggested retail prices as provided by the winery, one of its agents, a local distributor or retailer.
