Increasingly often I watch videos, hear evaluations or find myself in situations where I am forced to question my sense of smell.
Maybe it’s not a gift I possess, but there are certain aromas in wine that I simply cannot find.
However, I believe it is not a matter of smell, but rather of how I like to approach wine, its world and the way it is communicated.
How many people have ever smelled a sweaty horse?
How many have smelled a rue leaf, a semi-dried apricot (be careful, not dried, semi-dried…), an helichrysum or buttero leather?
More than a tasting, it often feels like I am attending a lesson in botany. Sometimes it resembles an in-depth chemical analysis or even the description of a new “living” species discovered on the planet rather than a wine…
Now, either we are dealing with bionic noses, modified receptors and doped taste buds, or simply my nose does not work.
But beyond whether our sense of smell or taste works properly, the questions I often ask myself when I hear these things are always the same:
Do we taste wine for the pleasure of doing so and discovering new wines, or are we competing? If so, against whom? Is it a contest to see who can find the most aromas?
Does anyone really care to know that a wine contains a “rue leaf” note?
If I describe a wine this way to an ordinary person, what will they think? Isn’t there a risk of increasingly resembling the “sommelier stereotype” described by Antonio Albanese?
Aren’t we risking pushing people further away from the desire to truly engage with the culture of wine?
Sometimes people search for flaws in wine.
In my opinion, this is the main flaw of wine.
An overly complex communication that, in my view, is unnecessary and capable only of pushing people away rather than inspiring passion.
People search for new markets and there are thousands of individuals who could be guided toward that small step of improvement in how they drink. It would be enough to use even a tiny fraction of the vast culture behind wine, one of the many stories that can be told, to inspire a “consumer” to drink better and more thoughtfully.
But with “rue leaf”, “sweaty horse”, “wet rag” and “buttero leather”, we can only expect to be (generally) ignored, if not mocked. Not by professionals, of course, but by ordinary people. The same ordinary people who then buy the wine and, not understanding, stop at the shelf and opt for a “whatever” wine.
I imagine this might be considered a politically incorrect opinion, but since wine is not my business and I have always liked to say what I think, I say it, ready to receive any criticism — preferably constructive — because I am truly in love with wine, or rather with the culture of wine.
