Showing posts with label synaesthesia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label synaesthesia. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 01, 2020

A few words from the Goode doctor.

Yay!  It's my 1500th post on Vinsanity.  Whoo hoo!  This time last year I didn't think I wanted to continue blogging.  But here I am, still going on about nothing much in particular.  Today, however, I have something special to post.  Something quite particular, in fact.  An interview.
Dr. Jamie Goode PhD is a scientist, newspaper columnist, award winning author, wine judge, lecturer and an expert on all things oenos.  He travels extensively and is much in demand as an authority on wine-grape growing regions around the globe - places the rest of us just get to read about in books.  Sigh.
I am currently reading his book  I Taste Red (2016) which is a study of the science of tasting wine.  The title refers to synaesthesia which is a condition that muddles up the senses.  I experienced synaesthesia myself once.  The experience was, to say the least, bizarre.  It's a good book, intense, but interesting.
During the Covid-19 pandemic, Dr. Goode has been hosting web-forums on Instagram (@drjamiegoode) and Zoom which I have been thoroughly enjoying.  He also has a daily wine review series called Wine on Camera (Instagram).  Sometimes the internet connection leaves a little to be desired (illustrated by the fuzzy screenshot above), but it's only a minor bother.  
Anyway, here is what the doctor had to say:

Vinogirl:  Are you drinking wine right now?  If so, what is it?
Jamie Goode:  No, I had a big night with friends last night (socially distanced and outside in a garden, of course) with some amazing bottles, and it was very late. So I’m rather tired today.

VG:  You're a scientist.  Is it hard for you to enjoy a glass of wine and not always be tempted to break it down into its chemical components?
JG:  I think there are different levels of enjoying wine. Sometimes I examine what I’m drinking in a sort of scientific way. Other times, I drink. Some wines have something interesting to say, and then I pay attention. Other times, the wine is just wine. Science is good at answering some questions, but wine needs more than science to understand it. I’m also not so keen on reductionistic approaches to wine. A chemical analysis of a wine can’t tell us much about its quality. Breaking a wine down into its components doesn’t tell us what the wine is like – the wine is a whole.

VG:  What is your take on writing reviews of bad wine?  The less said the better?  Or full disclosure?
JG:  The problem with reviewing bad wine is that if you get it wrong, then you might have damaged the reputation and feelings of a producer. A false positive is much less problematic than a false negative. Our perception is not always right. If you taste a wine and it seems to be really bretty, for example, sometimes it’s best to just say nothing about that wine rather than pan it. Some writers enjoy saying negative things, but there is a person behind the wine, and often a small business. We have to be careful here.

VG:  During the shelter-in-place, I've watched a lot of your Instagram/Zoom presentations.  I like the virtual-access afforded to the consumer of some really great wines, producers and regions.  Is this something that you'll continue in the future?
JG:  Yes, I enjoy doing it. The tasting wine on camera videos have been very well received. Producers have approached me about getting their wines tasted live. The interviews with producers have been great, but internet issues can make them a bit tricky: you just don’t know how good other peoples’ connections are.

VG:  You seemed to be having a blast with Ernie Loosen. Do you have a favourite amongst the online presentations and virtual tastings that you have hosted thus far?  
JG:  I really enjoyed chatting with Ernie, who is great value. It was also good to connect with Elaine Brown, and it was super fun to chat with Anna Jorgensen in the Alentejo: she’s just taken over her sizeable family property and is making some really interesting changes, especially in the vineyard.

VG:  You actually contracted Covid-19 early on and spoke about losing your sense of smell and taste.  How scary was that for someone who earns his living smelling and tasting wine?
JG:  It’s pretty scary when your career is potentially over! Fortunately it came back. But for quite a while I was having to ask deep questions of myself. What would I be without my career? There was a lot to process.

VG:  I was recently re-reading Wine & Philosophy (2008).  Twelve years on, how are your orbitofrontal cortex and amygdala holding up?
JG:  I’m really fascinated by perception, which is why I wrote a book on it. You can only really make sense of perception with a multidisciplinary approach. The brain really is remarkable.

VG:  It is a little unusual for a wine-writer to be so philosophical.  Wax lyrical about which dead philosopher you'd like to share a bottle of wine with?
JG:  I guess I am unusual, but I like to think deeply. Sharing a bottle of wine with a dead philosopher? I’d go big and right back to ancient Greece, and have a night out with Plato. There’d be a language barrier, but with a Babel fish in my ear, I think we’d have some interesting discussions. I’d be pretty curious to taste the wines he drinks, too – wine back then would have been quite different, but maybe not as different…. Hmmm. It would be great to catch one of the symposia, too. Lots of smart people drinking wine together and musing on deep issues. 

VG:  I am impressed that you seem really interested in viticulture, again a tad unusual for a wine-writer.  Where does that interest spring from? Is it just part of the holistic and scientific way in which you approach your work?
JG:  I did a PhD in plant biology, and I have a love for all things botanical. Viticulture is at a very interesting place right now. It’s incredibly hard to do good experiments in vineyards if the readout is wine quality, and so if you rely on the scientific literature you probably won’t get a very good understanding of what’s going on in the vineyard. I find travelling and talking to people is a great way to learn.

VG:  You've traveled all around the world and been in some fabulous and storied vineyards.  Do you find it difficult to stop yourself from hugging the odd vine, or two?
JG:  I have this bizarre affection for good vineyards, and I’ve seen some famous ones. But the vine should just be part of the vineyard, not the whole focus. It should be seen as part of an agroecosystem. I love vineyards that are full of life. It’s also amazing to see vineyards where the vines are incredibly old. There’s something special about an old vineyard, even if they look a bit raggedy sometimes.

VG:  I know you used to grow a little back garden Pinot noir.  If you produced your own wine, what grape variety would you pick?
JG:  It depends where I am in the world. I’d love to work with Palomino, Trousseau, Pineau d’AunisAlbariñoPinencTintaBarocca and Pais

VG:  Although I know you love dogs, I don't take you for a critter-wine-label type of person.  What type of packaging do you think gives a wine shelf-appeal?
JG:  It depends on the segment, but for fine wine, good typography, simplicity and elegance, and wax.

VG:  And a name for your virtual wine?
JG:  Tetraphis pellucida. It’s the latin name of the moss I first grew in sterile culture when I began my PhD.

VG:  Besides yourself, who is your favourite English wine writer?
JG:  Andrew Jefford.

VG:  I personally don't believe it is possible, but do you love Hugh Johnson as much as I do?
JG:  His writing is effortless and a joy to read. But I’m guessing you win here.

VG:  When the travel ban is lifted, where will you be off to first?
JG:  Maybe Canada.

VG:  Next time you visit Napa, are we going to hang out and dish the dirt on some wineries?
JG:  Totally. I think we’d hit it off.

Thank you for indulging me, Dr. Goode.  
For more from Dr. Goode, go to Wineanorak.com.

Monday, April 22, 2019

Der Geschmack der Farben.

I arrived home in one piece.  My flight from SFO to Manchester, via Zurich, was without incident - very smooth and painless.
Now that I am home, I am in a state of amazement.  I have experienced better weather here in the past four days than all of 2019 in California and I have loved every minute of it.  Thing is, England is hard to beat when the sun is shining, it is just so pretty.  And so green.  Spring has always been my favourite season in Blighty.
Family OTW and I have busied ourselves with lots of activities; shooting, archery, bingo and other games.  Every meal has been outside, breakfasts, lunches and dinners.  Of note, yet another fabulous wood-fired pizza event (my sister-in-law's Thai chicken pizza could give California Pizza Kitchen a run for their money) at which I discovered that a particularly spicy pizza paired well with a Prosecco that Thud pulled out of his wine-stash.  Fun.
The Taste of Colours, kindly reproduced with the permission of Swiss Air (well, I'm sure they would have approved it if I'd asked), is not about the neurological trait synaesthesia.  Rather, the wine-article in my seat-pocket magazine maintained that there was a correlation between the colour of a wine and the way in which a wine is produced, even a vintage's growing conditions, with the qualities therefore inherent in a wine.  Not sure I totally buy the whole premise of the article as it's a little simplistic, besides I don't read German, but it made for some light, in-flight entertainment - a bit like the colour, Blasses Weissgelb.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Four-Buck Chuck.

There is a lot going on with this wine; trendy packaging, organic grapes, innovative closure, infamy.  What it doesn't have going on is complexity.  This is a bottle of Two-Buck Chuck, or rather Four-Buck Chuck ($3.99, to be exact, at Trader Joe's), Bronco Wine Company's Charles Shaw ultra value-priced vino.
The biggest selling point of this bottle of wine, perhaps, for those who care about such things, is that it is made from organic grapes. It seems that organic has become a synonym for quality nowadays.  As compared to most other wines that I drink, that are not made from organic grapes, does this wine taste different?  Better?  This is a four dollar wine, people.  Now, if this plonk was produced by a perceived premium winery the fact that it was made from organic fruit may count for something.  Instead, I'm quite sure this wine was produced in 50,000 gallon (or larger) silos.  Whose taste buds are that good to make such a distinction?  Not mine.
My WhiffsNotes for the Shaw Rosé 2017 are; nondescript on the nose except for a generic berry component; Kool-Aid-y berry-ness on the palate; acceptable acid; slight bitterness on the finish.  A beautiful pale, pale salmon, it is a shame that one can't taste colour.  (Or can one?  Synaesthesia?)  Undrinkable?  On the contrary, think a hot summer's day, afternoon garden party, giant galvanised trough of iced wine bottles, good conversation.  Drinkable?  Abso-freakin-lutely!  Besides, one sometimes has to drink the cheap stuff to understand why the good stuff is so, well, good.

Friday, April 05, 2013

Come in No. 69.

I don't know if I want to admit this, but I did buy some wine on my recent-ish visit to Raymond Nightmares, I mean, Vineyards.  I came home with a single bottle of JCB No. 69 - for Jean-Charles Boisset, not the construction equipment people - a sparkling rosé made in the saignée method from 100% Pinot noir.  This bubbly hails from the Boisset Family's vineyards in Burgundy.  I didn't taste it at the winery, but seeing as I like Pinot noir based bubblies I didn't think I could go wrong.   No. 69 seems to be a strange name for a wine, but according to the JCB website all the JCB wines are known by a number.  Apparently, the flamboyant Jean-Charles was born in 1969.  Ho-hum.
As for the wine, it wasn't bad - aromatic and crisp, but with the weight of Pinot noir - it's just that it simply tasted red to me.  Yes, red!  The colour.  On tasting this wine I think I experienced a phenomenon that is known as synaesthesia and my senses got all discombobulated.  First time that's ever happened.  It seems the absurdism at Raymond Vineyards has had a deleterious effect on me.  Bizarre!