Published: Sunday, March 23, 2008
Our preference in wine is on the tips of our tongues
Of 11 wines on the tasting table, the Col d'Orcia Rosso di Montalcino, a full-bodied, fruity Tuscan red, was Tom Natan's top choice. Adam Manson hated it.
Both have well-trained palates. Natan is a partner in the importer and retailer First Vine, based in Washington, D.C. Manson is a co-owner of Veritas, a popular wine bar in the nation's capital. But the physiological differences in their tongues, coupled with their varied experiences, mean that the same wine tastes different to each of them. To Natan, the big, juicy flavors are luscious. To Manson, they are overwhelming, even bitter.
Neither one is right or wrong, says Tim Hanni, a California wine consultant. At a tasting organized by The Post last week at Phillips Seafood, he analyzed the two men's taste buds, a process he calls "getting your buds done."
After watching them taste and then scrutinizing their tongues through an industrial magnifying glass, Hanni labeled Natan a "tolerant" taster because he has fewer taste buds and tends to prefer ripe, concentrated wines. Manson, with more taste buds, is a "sensitive" taster and usually likes more-balanced wines without strong tannins. "Hypersensitive" tasters, Hanni's third category, tend toward delicate, slightly sweeter wines such as Rieslings that are easy on the palate. "Sweet" tasters, the final group, are also hypersensitive, Hanni says, with confidence in their taste and little interest in learning to like drier wines.
Knowing your type is akin to knowing your shoe size, Hanni says. Wearing a size 8 is not good or bad; it's just a fact that helps you find something that fits. "People live in different sensory worlds," he said. "We need to acknowledge that."
If it becomes widely accepted, Hanni's system could upend the way we think, judge and even talk about wine. Instead of 100-point scales or talk of "grassy," "gooseberry" notes -- wine descriptors that Hanni says can become "insufferable" mumbo jumbo -- drinkers would need only to understand what makes up a perfect score or pleasant flavor for them. That can vary widely depending on physiology, sex and personal experience.
At a 2006 pinot noir judging in San Francisco, the female judges' first choice came in 35th out of 40 among the men. The men's first choice came in 35th out of 40 for the women. (Women are much more likely than men to be sensitive or hypersensitive tasters, though sex isn't a determining factor.)
Hanni's goal, he said, is to democratize wine once and for all. It's something the industry has been talking about for years: getting rid of the snooty sommeliers and insisting that it's OK to drink white zinfandel with your steak if that's what you like -- really. "There's no right or wrong" has become a mantra of the new generation of wine professionals.
But the overwhelming nature of the wine business has made it tough to persuade consumers to trust their palates. "I don't know of any other industry that has such a broad range of products and prices," said Natalie MacLean, an author and the editor of a free wine newsletter at www.nataliemaclean.com. "There are more than a million producers, and each one makes at least a few wines, all of which change every year. Multiply that together and it's dazzling, overwhelming and confusing."
The Budometer, a computerized palate assessment tool, aims to turn theory into practice. Consumers fill out a survey at www.budometer.com that is designed to gauge their tastes. (Hint: If you like black coffee or Scotch or, counterintuitively, find foods too salty -- salt suppresses bitterness -- you're probably a "tolerant" taster.) The Budometer instantly tells consumers what kind of taster they are. It offers up styles to look for -- tannic reds, New World pinot noirs, Alsatian whites -- and specific wines they might enjoy. Starting in May, visitors to Copia, an education center in Napa that promotes the understanding of food and wine, can confirm their status by having their tongues analyzed.
Hanni developed the Budometer with the help of two sensory scientists at the University of California at Davis. It takes into account a decade of research on taste and sensory perception; Hanni calls it neurogastronomic programming. Designed for neophytes, it asks just five questions, but Hanni plans to add a more advanced questionnaire for enthusiasts soon. The extended survey will help people understand how experiences affect or even overcome genetic predispositions, he says.
As important as the science is Hanni's fervor for making wine easy, whatever it takes. He developed the first "progressive" wine list in 1985 for Murphy's restaurant in Atlanta, grouping bottles not by country but by styles such as "light and fruity" or "lush and full-bodied." He also developed and sells Vignon, a blend of salt and spices designed to help any food pair well with wine -- even asparagus and artichokes, which are notoriously difficult to match.
A recovering alcoholic, Hanni hasn't swallowed a sip of wine in 14 years, something he insists hasn't affected his ability to work with wine. In fact, he says it helps: "There are people who write me off as an idiot, because how could I know what I'm talking about if I don't taste? When I stopped drinking, I became an observer. What I do isn't dependent on tasting; it's dependent on observing and studying and researching why you like what you like, not trying to convince you that you should like what I like."
Some of his ideas might seem heretical, but Hanni, one of the first two Americans to obtain a master of wine designation, is careful to present his creations in a way that is welcoming to wine novices and unthreatening to the establishment. At 55, Hanni still has a bit of the hippie in him. His most common expression is "I'm having a blast." Every e-mail ends with his tag line: "Peace, Partnership and Prosperity." The message: It's only wine. Why can't we all get along?
Both have well-trained palates. Natan is a partner in the importer and retailer First Vine, based in Washington, D.C. Manson is a co-owner of Veritas, a popular wine bar in the nation's capital. But the physiological differences in their tongues, coupled with their varied experiences, mean that the same wine tastes different to each of them. To Natan, the big, juicy flavors are luscious. To Manson, they are overwhelming, even bitter.
Neither one is right or wrong, says Tim Hanni, a California wine consultant. At a tasting organized by The Post last week at Phillips Seafood, he analyzed the two men's taste buds, a process he calls "getting your buds done."
After watching them taste and then scrutinizing their tongues through an industrial magnifying glass, Hanni labeled Natan a "tolerant" taster because he has fewer taste buds and tends to prefer ripe, concentrated wines. Manson, with more taste buds, is a "sensitive" taster and usually likes more-balanced wines without strong tannins. "Hypersensitive" tasters, Hanni's third category, tend toward delicate, slightly sweeter wines such as Rieslings that are easy on the palate. "Sweet" tasters, the final group, are also hypersensitive, Hanni says, with confidence in their taste and little interest in learning to like drier wines.
Knowing your type is akin to knowing your shoe size, Hanni says. Wearing a size 8 is not good or bad; it's just a fact that helps you find something that fits. "People live in different sensory worlds," he said. "We need to acknowledge that."
If it becomes widely accepted, Hanni's system could upend the way we think, judge and even talk about wine. Instead of 100-point scales or talk of "grassy," "gooseberry" notes -- wine descriptors that Hanni says can become "insufferable" mumbo jumbo -- drinkers would need only to understand what makes up a perfect score or pleasant flavor for them. That can vary widely depending on physiology, sex and personal experience.
At a 2006 pinot noir judging in San Francisco, the female judges' first choice came in 35th out of 40 among the men. The men's first choice came in 35th out of 40 for the women. (Women are much more likely than men to be sensitive or hypersensitive tasters, though sex isn't a determining factor.)
Hanni's goal, he said, is to democratize wine once and for all. It's something the industry has been talking about for years: getting rid of the snooty sommeliers and insisting that it's OK to drink white zinfandel with your steak if that's what you like -- really. "There's no right or wrong" has become a mantra of the new generation of wine professionals.
But the overwhelming nature of the wine business has made it tough to persuade consumers to trust their palates. "I don't know of any other industry that has such a broad range of products and prices," said Natalie MacLean, an author and the editor of a free wine newsletter at www.nataliemaclean.com. "There are more than a million producers, and each one makes at least a few wines, all of which change every year. Multiply that together and it's dazzling, overwhelming and confusing."
The Budometer, a computerized palate assessment tool, aims to turn theory into practice. Consumers fill out a survey at www.budometer.com that is designed to gauge their tastes. (Hint: If you like black coffee or Scotch or, counterintuitively, find foods too salty -- salt suppresses bitterness -- you're probably a "tolerant" taster.) The Budometer instantly tells consumers what kind of taster they are. It offers up styles to look for -- tannic reds, New World pinot noirs, Alsatian whites -- and specific wines they might enjoy. Starting in May, visitors to Copia, an education center in Napa that promotes the understanding of food and wine, can confirm their status by having their tongues analyzed.
Hanni developed the Budometer with the help of two sensory scientists at the University of California at Davis. It takes into account a decade of research on taste and sensory perception; Hanni calls it neurogastronomic programming. Designed for neophytes, it asks just five questions, but Hanni plans to add a more advanced questionnaire for enthusiasts soon. The extended survey will help people understand how experiences affect or even overcome genetic predispositions, he says.
As important as the science is Hanni's fervor for making wine easy, whatever it takes. He developed the first "progressive" wine list in 1985 for Murphy's restaurant in Atlanta, grouping bottles not by country but by styles such as "light and fruity" or "lush and full-bodied." He also developed and sells Vignon, a blend of salt and spices designed to help any food pair well with wine -- even asparagus and artichokes, which are notoriously difficult to match.
A recovering alcoholic, Hanni hasn't swallowed a sip of wine in 14 years, something he insists hasn't affected his ability to work with wine. In fact, he says it helps: "There are people who write me off as an idiot, because how could I know what I'm talking about if I don't taste? When I stopped drinking, I became an observer. What I do isn't dependent on tasting; it's dependent on observing and studying and researching why you like what you like, not trying to convince you that you should like what I like."
Some of his ideas might seem heretical, but Hanni, one of the first two Americans to obtain a master of wine designation, is careful to present his creations in a way that is welcoming to wine novices and unthreatening to the establishment. At 55, Hanni still has a bit of the hippie in him. His most common expression is "I'm having a blast." Every e-mail ends with his tag line: "Peace, Partnership and Prosperity." The message: It's only wine. Why can't we all get along?
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