Why Do My Wines Taste Like Some Vegetables?

By TOM MARQUARDT and PATRICK DARR

When we began seriously tasting wines in the 1980s, we found ourselves grasping for descriptors. We understood elements like tannin and body, but the difference between cranberry and cherry eluded us. It turns out we weren’t the only ones swirling wine in our glasses and struggling for the right words to describe it.

Not until the 1970s did wine tasters, including winemakers, derive a system from putting to paper what the palate was telling us.  Ann Noble, now a legend in creating a wine aroma wheel, realized the need for a wine lexicon while teaching a class at the University of California at Davis. Few students could express what was in the glass, so she listed more than a hundred items in the house that could offer help.

Most of these descriptors involved food. From there, she developed the ubiquitous wheel that narrows the decision from, say, stone fruit to white peach.  We used the wheel a lot in our early years, but there were descriptors like quince and red currants we could not pick up because we never tasted them.

Anyone who wants to be able to describe a wine needs to spend time in the kitchen.  We knew one professional who asked her daughter to pick a dried herb and let her smell it while she closed her eyes and tried to recognize it. It was a terrific method to identify rosemary, sage, thyme, basil and other herbs commonly found in wine.

The same goes for fruit – can you blindly distinguish between an apricot and a peach without tasting them? What about a red cherry from a black cherry?

Wine enthusiasts often ask, for instance, if the olive flavor in a cabernet sauvignon means olives were added. We know that sounds stupid, but the question lends to the confusion of how a wine made from grapes can taste of olives.  The general explanation is that the flavor reminds us of olives because that is what our palates have recorded over the years.

We have a friend who worked around trucks who couldn’t describe wine if his life depended on it, but he guessed right when he said an Alsace Riesling smelled of petrol.  Diesel fuel was part of his daily life.

In more recent years professional wine tasters have found that there is actually a science to some of these terms. In other words, there sometimes are chemicals that are shared by wine and fruit or vegetable. That petrol smell, in fact, is a chemical compound called TDN.

Perhaps a better example is pyrazines, a class of compounds commonly found in plant-based foods, particularly green pepper and bell pepper. They explain why some cabernet sauvignons are often described as having a bell pepper flavor. Pyrazines are in grape skins as well. Once considered a flaw, many people like the additional layer of flavors in moderation.

We happen to like a particular cru bourgeois from Bordeaux that is known for its green pepper notes, but some critics consider it a flaw.

Scientists have found other compounds that help explain why a wine smells or tastes a certain way.  For instance, we often find vanilla in oaked chardonnay and freshly mowed grass in the aromas of New Zealand sauvignon blanc. It turns out those elements come from aldehydes.

There also are additives intended to mask a wine’s flaw that in turn introduce new flavors that are not natural to the grape. You probably like that cheap red wine because the wine producer has added Mega Purple or another grape concentrate that makes a wine smooth and sweet. Its dials back raging acidity and underripe grapes, plus it appeals to America’s Coca-Cola palate.

It is estimated that every botte costing less than $20 have been laced with grape concentrate.  That’s what allows big producers to make an appealing wine without the added expense of choosing only the best grapes and fermenting them in expensive oak barrels. But you won’t find this on the label or in the winemaker’s tasting notes.

You don’t have to be a scientist to enjoy wine, of course.  Many of you don’t want to bother with descriptions. But those of you who enjoy the challenge should experiment if you want to learn more.  See if you can pick a cheap chardonnay from an expensive one. Smell a sprig of rosemary and see if you can pick up the herb. It’s the best way to learn.

St. Supery

St. Supery has been producing remarkable wines in Napa Valley for decades.  We particularly like its sauvignon blancs which take this grape variety to a new level.  But we also enjoy the red wines from this producer.  Here are a few we recently tried:

St. Supery Dollarhide Sauvignon Blanc 2022 ($40). Creamier on the palate than most sauvignon blancs, this perennial favorite of ours has varietal grapefruit and citrus notes but with a dollop of pear to give it more dimension.

St. Supery Cabernet Sauvignon 2019 ($58). Blackberry, raspberry and plum notes with a dash of oak and black pepper.

St. Supery Rutherford Merlot 2019 ($70). Classic plum notes with interesting hints of cocoa powder, pepper and dried herbs.

Wine picks

Trivento White Malbec 2023 ($11).  Wow, this was a nice surprise. You probably have tasted red malbec from Argentina, but this is a bold experiment in using the grape to make a white wine. By picking the grapes early to retain acidity and pressing them immediately to avoid skin contact, the wine is clear. This wine is tart, crisp and remarkable for its green apple flavor with a touch of effervescence.

Binomio Montepulciano d’Abruzzo DOC Riserva 2019 ($52). We loved this dense, concentrated and delicious gem made from an ancient biotype of montepulciano called the “Africa clone.” Ripe dark fruit flavors are easy to enjoy now, but this wine can age.

Canvasback Red Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon 2020 ($44). Napa Valley’s Duckhorn added this Washington state property to its impressive portfolio in 2012.  Winemaker Joseph Czarny has crafted a powerful wine with firm tannins and complexity from mountain fruit. Merlot and malbec are blended with 82 percent cabernet sauvignon to form a bordeaux-esque blend with plum and black cherry flavors and hints of spice, mineral and black currants.