Wine Is Like a Woman

Almost every year some Frenchman falls into one of the big fermenting vats in the famous vineyards around Bordeaux.

The accident is most likely to happen right after the grape harvest when the mashed fruit is fermenting and the grape sugar changes into alcohol and carbon dioxide. The gas that arises from the churning liquid is so heady that a workman or watchman looking into a vat may become giddy and plunge headlong into the seething mass. The accident has two very grave results. In the first place, the fall may disturb the thick layer of skins and pips on top, mixing them carelessly with the liquid on the bottom. Secondly, if the body is not recovered until the following morning, the contents of the vat with its untold litres of potentially fine vintage wine may have to be discarded.

Old winemen know that carbon dioxide is not the only product that arises from the processing of grapes. There is another form of vapor, never mentioned in the chemistry texts, which is more persistent than simple carbon dioxide. It's the poetic verbiage, the elaborate hocus-pocus of certain self-appointed knights of the wine table. Listen to these flannel mouths as they tell how one wine is hospitable while another one is modest. They are not content to enjoy a wine for its sheer liquid goodness. They must ascribe all kinds of human qualities to it. One savant tells how his wine "curtsied prettily" when he lifted it to his lips. Another detects in a certain vintage the taste of Russian leather — not just ordinary leather, mind you, but Russian leather specifically. While one of the connoisseurs raves about the cedarwood taste of a Burgundy, another describes the savor of an old Saint Emilion with its "perfume of dead leaves and taste of autumn mushrooms" (!)

To these critical gentlemen, the super-bacchanalian test of anyone's judgment regarding wines is whether one can drink an unidentified wine and with unerring accuracy tell the origin of the wine and its vintage year. They'll look down their nose at you and say, "My good fellow! You mean to say you don't recognize this 1921 Avelsbacher Herrenberg, Beeren Auslese, Funder Number 3959 Wachstum Weingut D. O. V? You surprise me!"

Now and then somebody calls their bluff. C. W. Berry, a noted wine authority, once invited a group of wine fanciers to a dinner to test their accuracy. Not a single one of the critical sniffers was able to identify the Chateau Ausone 1923 which was served.

Even Louis Pasteur, the French scientist who demonstrated that wine was a living thing and explained the changes that take place when grapes ferment, was once moved to challenge the members of the French expert commission on wine. Pasteur had been trying to demonstrate that there might be certain benefits if wine were heated during its processing. Although he was merely making a scientific proposal without drawing any conclusions, the experts were horrified at his suggestion. The taste of the wine would be irrevocably killed by heat, they said. Pasteur then gave each member' of the commission two glasses of the unidentified wine and asked for their opinion. Each savant detected a difference between the two samples submitted by Pasteur. The wine in all glasses was exactly the same. The "differences" were all above the ears of the experts.

All of this doesn't mean that there is no distinction between good, bad and indifferent wines. The vignerons, who work in the noted wine estates in France, are artists with a magnificent background of experience. They, too, have a professional jargon which is sometimes puzzling to outsiders. When the maître de chai or foreman of a noted wine cellar, for instance, says a wine is precocious, he simply means that the wine has reached maturity before the expected time. When he describes a wine as nervous, he uses the French word nerveux meaning the wine has vigor or sufficient spirit to withstand considerable handling. A nervous wine is one that can be transported without detriment.

But the vignerons are the first to agree that the place for wines is deep in the mouth and not on the vintage charts. When the verbal tilts are over and the adjectives unscrambled, any man with normal taste buds must (continued on next page) concede that the wines of France are the purest forms of liquid pleasure in the world.

Wines aren't a static pleasure. Unlike liqueur or whiskey whose quality is usually unchangeable, wine constantly changes. The grapes on the vine change from year to year and from day to day. Wine continues to change in the vat and in the bottle. It changes when it is transported over the ocean, and finally changes even in the glass as its perfume slowly rises in the air. Because wine is a living thing, it has the fascination of anything that is born and matures. The Frenchman regards his wine as an object of beauty — a changing beauty but not an irresolute one. And to describe the incredible finesse of this beauty he can find only one simile in his language. His wine, he says, is like a woman.

The phrase "wine, women and song" is the most worn collection of words in any language, but this linking of wine with women is justified by history. When the Greeks wanted to fashion the most beautiful wine cup, they used the shape of the divine Helen's breast as the model. In the Song of Solomon the female breast is presented as a beautiful cluster of grapes. Even Martin Luther was supposed to have penned the well known German couplet,

Wer nicht liebt Wein, Weib und Gesang,

Der bleibt ein Narr sein Lebelang.

(Who loves not wine, woman and song,

Remains a fool his whole life long.)

Playboy, with its well-known conservative scruples, therefore, recommends wine as one of the most hallowed and classical of man's pleasures.

Wine and food have always been inseparable. One can drink a glass of dry sherry as an apertif before dinner or enjoy a glass of vin rose during the afternoon. But, for the most part, wine belongs on the festive board. Like bread it can be served from the beginning to the end of the meal. But unlike bread, it's not mere ballast. It's the coaxer, the instigator, the thrust and parry. The natural dryness of wine — not sourness — the tart grapey flavor, like a mellow but caustic humor, makes wine such a magnificent counterpoint with food.

To regular wine drinkers, wine is not just a beverage like coffee or milk. It's the magic that makes the plump oysters more tangy, the onion soup more friendly, the duck richer, the veal cutlet more urbane and the melon more exotic.

The average young man attempting to explore this great avenue of pleasure is often frightened away because of the aura surrounding the wine judge's art. A man may hesitate to judge or even drink a fine imported wine lest he make a revealing faux pas. The same man may eat a tropical fruit for the first time and will not hesitate to assert, "I say it's mango and to hell with it." But when he buys a bottle of Montrachet in a restaurant, his judgement may suddenly become paralyzed. This needn't be.

To learn about wines and their differences one need only taste several wines at the same sitting. It works something like this. Suppose a person were suddenly asked to describe in words the taste of four different kinds of apples. He'd be stumped. But suppose the same individual sat down at a table, and then slowly but carefully tasted each of four different varieties of apples — a McIntosh, a Winesap, a Jonathan and a Delicious. After each bite he would detect almost unbelievable variations in flavor, texture and aroma. In a few moments the apple connoisseur would be talking about sweetness, dryness, mellowness, liveliness, bouquet and all sorts of qualities that he had never tagged before.

In wine drinking, something of the same skill develops after you've drunk several different wines arrayed alongside each other. Now normally, of course, a wine drinker doesn't order three different kinds of burgundy with his mutton chop. But as an educational lark, two or three fellows might order several pints of imported red wines and genuinely enjoy tasting and learning about the differences.

When you first drink wine, it will be with a gulp. You will not hold the glass tenderly between the thumb and forefinger slowly twirling it to admire the bright purple robe while waiting for its bouquet to reach your nostrils. But after you've enjoyed several fine French wines, you may become patient enough to wait for its fragrance to spread in the glass until the first faint evaporation takes place. Winemen call this the first taste. The second one occurs when you drink the wine slowly and your taste buds enjoy the deep flavor, the body, the soft flow of the grape. Finally, you'll experience the third sensation, the mature delight of the lingering aftertaste. In time you'll come to look upon these three phases as distinct flavor experiences just as when you eat a hot Welsh rabbit, you experience first the aroma of the bubbling cheese, then the eating thereof and finally the slow tang of the aftertaste.

To serve wine and enjoy its color and bouquet one needn't buy elaborate glassware. Simple clear white crystal, unadorned and unetched, is the best. Avoid thick cut glass and shun colored glassware like the plague. Wine glasses, often called claret glasses, should be tulip shaped, somewhat larger at the base than at the top. They should, of course, always be sparkling clean.

When you draw the cork from a bottle of wine, you should use a wide thread corkscrew or a corkscrew of the self-opening type. If you have trouble extracting the cork, it's a good idea to hold the bottle between the knees and pull with one hand while steadying the bottle with the other.

When the cork is out, the bottle top should be carefully wiped with a clean towel to remove any loose cork or dust around the rim. The first wine should be poured, cavalier fashion, into the host's glass in case there is any loose cork floating about.

On rare occasions, wine is "corky," that is, the cork may be defective causing the wine to be spoiled. It happens in such isolated instances, however, that it shouldn't bother the average wine drinker.

Very old wine will sometimes show a sediment in the bottle. This is a natural development in red wines as they age. If there is a small amount of sediment, it's best to leave it alone. Remove the cork about an hour before serving. The sediment will then precipitate to the bottom of the bottle. Originally the sediment, if present, was on the side of the bottle since the wine was in a horizontal position on the shelf. Opening wine beforehand permits its aroma to expand in the air. If there is an unusually large amount of sediment, the wine should be decanted. To decant wine, stand it upright for several hours. Then pour the wine slowly into a decanter in one slow motion. Do not tilt the bottle back and forth during decanting. Stop pouring before the sediment is reached. If necessary place a light behind the bottle to see the sediment more distinctly when decanting.

Most people do not have to go too deeply into viniana esoterica to know that red wines are served at room temperature while white wines are chilled. At room temperature the bouquet of red wines will develop to their fullest. The flavor of many white wines, particularly the sauternes, is so extravagantly fruity that chilling seems to set them just right for the palate. White wines needn't be freezing. One to two hours in the refrigerator will be sufficient.

It's customary to drink red wines with red meat and game, while white wines are served with fish, seafood and poultry. Here again the strictures needn't be taken too literally. For instance, veal is a red meat, and yet if the veal is very fine, the meat is light in color and delicate in flavor. With a roast rack of veal, a dry white burgundy would be thoroughly enjoyable even though it might not be endorsed by wine purists. With a chicken liver casserole, although it is a form of poultry, a light red bordeaux is delightful. Common sense and individual preference are the only dicta worth respecting when advice on wine drinking is offered.

The study of the great French wines is a huge topic represented by thousands of studies and dissertations. For the young man who is exploring this charming field, Playboy especially recommends Alexis Lichine's book, The Wines of France, revised edition (Knopf, $4).

Caution should be sounded against anyone becoming too addicted to the vintage charts. There are some years in which one chateau in a particular district might produce a magnificent yield while a neighboring wine estate may have indifferent or poor results. Sometimes a new wine will seem to bear great promise of maturing beautifully and in time will deteriorate quickly. A particular year may yield great white wines while the red wines fall far behind. For such reasons the vintage charts may be used for reference but should not be taken as the final word.

There are many areas in France producing illustrious wines, such as the (concluded on page 69) Wine is like a Woman (continued from page 44) Champagne section, the Rhone valley and the Alsace. But for the month of April, Playboy would like to cite a few of the noted wines of Bordeaux and Burgundy, favorites for generations with viveurs all over the world.

Wines of Bordeaux

Bordeaux, the most noted wine district, is a narrow strip of land alongside the Garonne and the Gironde Rivers. Many of the famous Bordeaux wines are now selling for as little as a dollar a bottle in the United States. Both white and red wines are produced here. The red wines are known as clarets, not too heavy in body, sprightly in flavor and guaranteed never to bore even the most exacting gourmet. The Bordeaux district is divided into five famous sections, each of which is known for its wines — the Medoc, the Graves, the Sauterne, the St. Emilion and the Pomerol. In the Medoc, three of the best known clarets are the St. Julien, the Chateau Margaux and the St. Estephe. Margaux wines are esteemed for their tangy fruitiness, St. Julien wines for a nice mellowness.

The section of Bordeaux known as the Graves produces both red and white wines. In the United States the white Graves is the most popular. The soil in which the grapes are grown is known for its gravelly, pebbly texture, not suitable for any other kind of husbandry but magnificent for a light delightful wine.

From the Sauterne section come the stunningly beautiful sweet wines of France. The greatest of the sauternes is Chateau Yquem, a wine celebrated in poems and novels for generations. In the Sauterne region the white grapes are left on the vine until they are overripe, almost musty — a condition known as the "noble rot" in Bordeaux. At times the vines are picked not bunch by bunch but actually grape by grape as each part of the cluster reaches the correct stage of overripeness. Barsac is a particularly delicious bottling from the Sauterne section.

Finally there are the St. Emilion and Pomerol wines. They are often called the burgundies of Bordeaux because of their deep fine body and rich color.

In recent years the French government has taken active steps to assure the genuineness of the labels on French wines. Laws known as the Appellation d'Origine have placed strict regulation on the use of chateau names. Even the amount of wine that a noted chateau can produce is limited by law. The names of such famous chateaux as Lafite-Rothschild, Latour, Haut Brion and Mouton Rothschild are automatic guides to illustrious wines. Often you will see on the label, Mis En Bouteilles an Chateau, which means put into the bottle at the original chateau. You may also buy a wine with a chateau name put on the label by one of the famous shippers such as Barton and Guestier, Eschenauer, Sichel, etc. Or the wine may not bear the name of a chateau but a trade name and will have the word depose printed on the label, meaning the brand has been registered and may be depended upon for reliability. Frequently, among less expensive wines, you will see merely the regional name on the label, such as Sauterne or Medoc. Again if the shipper or importer is well known, you need have no fear as to the authenticity of the wine you are buying. All of these regulations were put into effect because of the widespread fraud that once existed in marketing French wines.

The most noted vintages for Bordeaux wines are 1928, 1933, 1934. 1937, 1940, 1943, 1945, 1947, 1949, 1950 and 1953. The 1955 vintage is not, of course, ready for sale but indications are that it will be a great wine year.

Wines of Burgundy

Burgundy wines are known for their magnificent body and their rich earthy intense flavors. The Burgundy area is known as the Cote d'Or, or slopes of gold. There are two main divisions, the Cote de Nuits and the Cote de Beaune. Three other wine areas in Burgundy — Maconnais. Beaujolais and Chablis — are almost as eminent in the wine world. Unlike the Bordeaux vineyards, each of which is owned by a wealthy private family or corporation, the Burgundy vineyards may have as many as forty owners each. So valuable is the chalky soil that in one vineyard, Clos de Vougeot, die workmen are instructed to shake off the dirt from their shoes before they leave the estate in order not to lose any of the incomparable earth.

Because of the multi-ownership of the vineyards, most of the Burgundy wines are blends. Sometimes the wine is known by the vineyard such as the Clos de Vougeot. In other cases the wine will bear the name of the commune such as the Cote de Nuits. From Burgundy one can still get Napoleon's favorite, the deep fruity Chambertin. Most expensive of the red burgundies is Romanee-Conti, famous for its virile flavor and long life. Nuits Saint Georges and Montrachet are magnificent wines of grace and finesse. Cote de Beaune produces Corton, Clos du Roi and Pommard. The Maconnais and Beaujolais wines are lighter than other burgundies but still extremely luscious specimens.

Chablis is undoubtedly the best all-purpose white wine in Burgundy. Wines from Chablis are pale, dry and fruity and can be served with anything from shrimp to sweetbread.

The best of the Burgundy vintages are 1928, 1929, 1933, 1937, 1943, 1945, 1946, 1947, 1949, 1950, 1952 and 1953. The vintners of Burgundy, like those of Bordeaux, expect the 1955 vintage to develop some great wines.