Balancing act

Too much of a good thing is bad for wine

Uncorked by Thor Iverson

Over the past few weeks, we've discussed a few of the individual components of wine, such as tannin, acidity, and taste. Along with sweetness, those characteristics can describe and categorize any type of wine. But it's the harmony among those elements -- something called balance -- that determines whether a wine is pleasurable to drink.

Balanced wines possess no rough edges or jarring notes. All the elements are in sync, neither dominant nor undetectable. Flawed wines are pretty easy to identify; certain qualities will virtually leap out of the glass, assaulting the senses with an overwhelming sensation of acidity, tannin, or oak. Overly acidic wines will taste sour, or even cause a slight burning sensation on the tongue. Wines that are too old often exhibit this characteristic. Too much tannin dries out the mouth and shrivels the tongue, leaving a signature leather taste and little else. And then there's oak.

Many, but not all, wines spend some part of their pre-bottling lives in oak barrels (steel and ceramic containers are common alternatives). The toasty, slightly sweet character contributed by oak aging is an integral part of most wines. Proceeding from the assumption that if a little oak is a good thing, a lot of oak is better, some producers have gone overboard by using smaller (or more) oak barrels, dumping oak chips in the wine, or even adding liquid oak essence. The result is wines that taste more like furniture than like grapes. California and Australia used to be the prime offenders, but over-oaked wine is now made everywhere. Thankfully, a small backlash is already under way. (Bias alert: I have a strong personal aversion to over-oaked wines.)

Subtler imbalances can be difficult to detect, but they help indicate a wine's ageability; its potential to develop into something extraordinary with a few years (or decades) of proper storage. The ability to determine if that potential exists despite apparent imbalances is what makes some wine critics, like Robert Parker and Michael Broadbent, famous (at least among wine geeks), but the skills they employ are mostly a matter of experience paired with a little common sense.

For instance, many young reds are highly tannic. Since all other components fade in comparison with the tannin, it would be easy to taste one of these wines and conclude that there's nothing else there. But pay close attention to the finish (the "aftertaste") -- both its character and its length -- and as the tannic dryness fades the fruit and acidity will assert themselves. If there's enough of both, the wine will age well. If the lingering impression is still overwhelmingly bitter, the tannin will outlast the fruit. Similarly, if a wine tastes dead or flabby (like flat soda or room-temperature milk), it lacks sufficient acidity and will not age. Acidity can be measured by a sharpness or tingle on the finish; a tart or sour taste might mean there's too much. Oak should always be just one of the tastes in a wine; if it dominates, the wine is over-oaked.

While balance is crucial in wines meant to age, it can sometimes be ignored in wines designed to be consumed young (within a year or two of bottling). As we've noted in previous columns, foods with high acidity (like tomato sauce) can "cancel out" acidity in wine, and strongly flavored meats or grilled foods can help defeat tannic dryness. Fruity wines with little tannin or acidity can be extremely enjoyable with all types of cuisine. And personal preference for tannic, acidic, or oaky wines is also a factor. But it's rare that an unbalanced wine provides the kind of hedonistic pleasure of which great wine is capable.

This week's recommendations all explore some facet of balance and how it works in wine.

1996 Grandes Bodegas Marques de Velilla (Ribera del Duero) ($10.99). A Spanish red with a thick boysenberry, chokecherry, pineapple, black pepper, and wet leather nose. The sensation on the palate is one of licorice, wheat, pepper, and rich dark berries, with a tannic and starchy finish. There's a faint sourness to the finish, which suggests that this wine may have a bit more acid that it needs. Nevertheless, it will age a few years, and it goes with just about everything but seafood.

1996 Muga Rioja ($12.99). A Spanish white that smells of apple pie, lemon, and slate, with a palate of golden apples. Some lime-apple tartness on the finish is a little bracing, but in combination with the tasty fruit and moderate oak, it creates a nice, light wine to accompany salads and white meats in thick sauces.

1987 Chateau Musar ($21.99). This Lebanese red wine is a story in itself; some vintages have gone to waste because no one would risk death to pick grapes at harvest time. Despite the violence surrounding the vineyards, it's one of the most compelling wines in the world, and it's built to age. This one isn't quite mature, but if you air it out for an hour or so (in a decanter or in your glass), a massive wave of cassis, cherry, strawberry, mushroom, peach, basil, and tobacco issues forth. This wine demonstrates how fruit emerges from early, tannic beginnings in age-worthy wines. Serve with red meats and earthy foods like mushrooms.

Thor Iverson can be reached at wine@phx.com.

---

The Uncorked archive

---