Gate 108: Edinburgh Wine trip: Part II of II

Wine is as intrinsically subjective a topic as you are likely to find. That's possibly the reason so many of us come to grasp it with such emotive, human-like language. Our discussions of finding a wine, intense, confused and muddled together with excitement upon finding the "right" wine, and dour sharpness revisiting wines you have grown to despise. In many senses, we fall for wine, for a grape, or region. It is at the very heart of wine. While this can sound in many senses very fairy-like, there is actually an abundance of science behind it too. I know this because I researched it for the large part in my degree (Who says University is wasted on the youth). One of the things that you stumble upon if you read about is the effect of mood and surroundings on our perceptions and guess what, people have an effect on both of those, friends and memories can make a massive difference to how you receive a wine.


You may be asking yourself what has brought on this moment of sentimentality, last year around this time, Empty lost a team mate and friend, Fintan Traynor, to a road incident. Little under a year and we thought it was time to write something of a dedication to the man him, unfortunately being stuck for words on the subject, I thought it best to exemplify the point I opened on. Wine is nothing without the people behind it on every level.   

And now to explain the title, In March of last year, Fintan & myself set out on a trip to Edinburgh, in a nonsensical fashion we dubbed the trip nothing less than a business trip and accordingly donned our suits for effect. I was to scribe the getting there and himself was tasked with the writing of the time there, unfortunately that did not come to pass. Thus, the dedication will be the penning one of the end to an unfinished adventure of sorts.

A context would be useful, our trip had begun very early in one of Dublin Airport's many bars. I was busily attempting to settle ever rising nerves, caused by the thoughts of an impending flight. While I drowned sorrows, himself sat in fascination at the swooping of planes on and off the runways. Eventually after having arrived in Edinburgh, we unleashed ourselves with typical valour on many a wine, in what could be seen as an attempt to steady the Irish stereotype. Two of the notable wines that we found were what could be called our "right" wines, our respective favourite grapes that we championed often to one another. Fintan, Pinot Noir. Myself, Cabernet Franc. Having found ourselves with a better export duty and most definitely not ones to waste such gifts, we moved that the stew  being brewed by our hosts be complimented not by gastronomic measures, but rather by measures of our own whims. The two wines we eventually choose to open  were a Chinon,  Domaine du Roncee and Thibault de Planiol, AC Bourgogne rouge, both good wines that were remembered as much for a night spent well with friends as for there quality.

Having picked up three wines for a pre-Paddy's Day stew and celebration, one had seemingly gone astray and would survive and to make a journey across the water back to Ireland, yet, it would arrive too late. This bottle was the Château Milon, a St Emilion Grand Cru from 2006, which I do believe found it's way to our hands via Odd Bins.

A Bordeaux blend of Merlot and Cabernet Franc, from the notably ropey vintage of 2006.  Which of course had never occurred to the two of us who had at the time been too engrossed in our Loire and Burgundy reds to even notice the vintage. Intended as the partner to a stew that was boiling not ten minutes away at the time. Yet a lot can change in ten minutes, and of course, we succumbed to the  temptations of Chinon and Burgundy, against better judgement mind you. Yet against better judgement, the the two proved a worth advisory to our hardy paddy stew. The banter flowed as the food disappeared all too fast, time, Pinot and Cab fleeted away in the mists of it all, and as it came time for the Chateau Milon to enter the stage, a cast change was swiftly motioned, a cheaper offering from another that was not shunned away, for with all the witty exchanges, we might have drank Beaujolais and enjoyed it. And so, our wine remained untouched, and was put in the care of another to cart home, when the time was right.

That, is where we sit at the current moment, our wine had arrived home, and it was fast approaching a milestone of memory for himself. A toast was needed. And as thoughts of our trip to Edinburgh lingered yet with me, it seemed apt that we pulled the plug on this lady of Bordeaux. As with our night in Edinburgh, we began with my usual struggle, myself arguing in my own way with a cork which seemingly takes ritual protest with my removing of it.

Tippling the wine into the Riedel and decanter. At first we had been given a closed offering. A second glass in and things began to become interesting, the Ruby red liquid in the glass had a lot to offer. At first a vegetal nose that moved to frugal and eventually a mushroom truffle nose, hints of rose petal began to emerge along with the fruit. On the plate, it was revealed something a little more typical of St. Emilion, plums and juicy fruits.

In terms of quality, it was nothing spectacular, yet it was something of sentimental value, and I suppose this is the premise of the article. We can often forget how important people are to wine, indeed Terroir encompasses such a wide range of things that even the people and traditions they maintain is part of it. Despite this too often you will find yourself bombarded by soil profiles and acidity levels, and in the wake of this the human aspect, the subjectivity that makes wine so elusive and curious a concoction, is often missed out on. I no doubt will remember this wine better than many finer ones tasted without reason.

What I hope you can grasp from my rambles is that, wine is in every sense made by people. Not just merely by some chap with some chemistry and some old fashioned savoir-faire, but the flavours and preconceptions that will form the very thing in your mouth that you swish around will be weighted with memories and that's something we can't nor do I think want to change.

This brings us back to the topic, the little reflection we are having. Remember that everything you taste is affected by people at some level and it's worth acknowledging this in the way we talk and write about wine. If we forget the people and the stories behind finding the right wines we lose everything that makes wine that little bit more special that your run of the mill pint down the local. It's a simple point but it really is at the heart of wine despite this, don't forget.