Saturday, March 13, 2010

Wet Rocks



I stopped at the liquor store on the way home from work yesterday and while browsing for a new chardonnay came across a wine description from a winery that among other things described the wine as evoking wet rocks. It wasn’t clear whether they thought it tasted or smelled of such. But then the smell and taste of a wine are so closely linked that maybe it didn’t matter.

It certainly got my attention. Wet rocks. Who is tasting or smelling wet rocks? And why would anyone want their wine to taste or smell like it. I’m not even sure that evokes anything for me. I’ve seen descriptions that evoke a sense of minerality before. Stone. Slate. Graphite. But rocks? And wet no less.

Here is a rather odd description of another wine I found:

"Packed, in a brawny, muscular style atypical for this lush vintage, with a gravelly undertow to the currant paste, braised fig and dark licorice notes. Picks up even more steam on the finish, with grilled mesquite, mineral and garrigue notes and a long, hot stone-filled finish."

There are so many things wrong with this I almost don't know where to begin. Are we supposed to be drinking this, or building a house with it?

For instance: grilled mesquite. Can you even grill wood? Doesn't it just catch fire? A gravelly undertow? A long, hot stone-filled finish? Garrigue? This one I had to look up. According to Wikipedia: Garrigue is a type of low, soft-leaved scrubland found on limestone soils around the Mediterranean Basin, generally near the seacoast, where the climate is ameliorated, but where annual summer drought conditions obtain.

Well, now I'm definitely intrigued. Rocks. Mesquite. Paste. Licorice. And an obscure Mediterranean bush.

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