WEINBERG'S WINE NOTES: Let the taste of place guide your selections
Anyone who enjoys a glass of vino with a favorite meal should know something of terroir (pronounced tare-wahr), a French term that doesn't translate directly into English. The closest I can come is "sense of place."
Think of a terroir as a group of vines or vineyards from the same region, sharing the same soil, climate and winemaking style, philosophy and expertise, all of which contribute to the wine's personality.
Let's look at the first part of that equation, how grapes from the same region can share elements with the soil and the surrounding ecosystem. Vines rely on the earth they're rooted in for minerals that can add citrus, chalk and mocha accents, along with many others, to the resultant grapes.
Fragrant trees and flowers release their own herbal and perfume notes that drift over the vineyards, and these can also be expressed in the fruit.
So how do you explore this fascinating element of terroir? Why not make the ultimate sacrifice and go out to dinner?
Good restaurant lists feature a slew of choices for inexperienced but adventurous imbibers. If you like crisp citrus and flowers, seek out the Basa Blanco, a biodynamically produced Spanish white whose flavors echo the flowers dotting the lime-infused, gravelly soils running through much of Rueda.
A good example of a wine with berry and earth elements is the Santa Lucia Castel del Monte red from Puglia, its dusty, medium-long raspberry finish so evocative of the crumbly dirt at the heel of Italy's boot.
Somewhere in the middle of the wine-geek spectrum reside those who already use a basic understanding of terroir to dramatically expand their restaurant choices.
If interested in bright berry flavors and fragrant herbs, they'll scan the wine list and quickly home in on the Louis Jadot rose, with aromas reminiscent of the lavender fields that run rampant throughout southern France. For a bit more punch, look for the cherry- and vanilla-tinged Van Duzer pinot noir from the Dundee Hills of Oregon, where the red-infused earth instills itself into the wine's mineral-laden finish.
A few of us will stop at nothing to procure wines from our favorite regions. We'll quickly spot whatever is of amazing value on the aforementioned list and zero in on the subset that expresses terroir in a way that resonates with our own specific tastes.
For me, wines in this category include Swanson pinot grigio from Napa, showing slate and citrus elements that waft in from the fruit trees that dot the valley's landscape. In a red, I like Huia pinot noir from Marlborough, New Zealand, whispering of raspberry and dark mocha derived from the dark soils of this fertile, mountainous region.
And so it goes, each vinous terroir showing its variety by presenting something of its soil and native species, spiced by the vagaries of the season in which the grapes were grown.
You may ask how useful this knowledge really is. Isn't the most important thing that you enjoy the wine?
Well, yes, but doesn't it make sense that knowing about the origins of your favorite bottles gives you the best chance of repeating your experiences? It really is possible to use the consistent differences between terroirs to separate untasted wines, however imperfectly, into those we would probably enjoy and those we wouldn't.
Wines made with respect for what is often hundreds or thousands of years of tradition evoke thoughts of their origins.
This is especially true if you've had the good fortune to visit their homelands, taste them in their natural settings and drink them with the food that influences their stylistic differences.
I'm really talking about soul, an element that's all too frequently lacking in today's commercially produced bottles. That's why a knowledge of terroir is so important to the proper appreciation of wine.
Please use these recommendations to help you learn about where your wines come from. From time to time, I'll write other columns focusing on how climate, winemaking style, philosophy and expertise individually affect terroir in the vineyard and the winery. In wine, as in many aspects of life, a little knowledge goes a long way.