Blending wines

[eipi10]

The topic itself seems heathenish, I realize. I have read a good deal of wine literature, and this outrageous idea has never been broached or even intimated. Yet, I am a curious sort. Just now I blended two highly-rated wines--roughly (very roughly) 70% of a fruit-bomb Australian shiraz and 30% of a peppery Spanish garnacha lacking body. The snob in me will not allow a lie. The blend was fantastic--so good in fact that I worry this post may suffer from sloppiness (though hesitation has diminished).

So I got to wondering. Could such a global mixture of wines fool the world's most acute wine palates in a blind tasting? If my blend of wines, each given a 90-100 rating by Robert Parker, were inserted one of his Spain or Australian tastings, what would the rating be? What about a Northern Rhone tasting?

Will post-cork-pop wine blending become the wine world's future craze? Perhaps a few blind tastings would pave the way.

Edited January 1, 2006 by eipi10 (log)

[Rebel Rose]

If it's heathenish, then I am also guilty of such barbaric behavior. One night a local winemaker and I were enjoying a local champenoise which we decided simply wasn't red enough to suit us, so we added a little pinot noir and we were happy campers. Or maybe we were already happy campers . . .

Astute blending of varietals and vineyard lots is an important winemaking talent. I am amazed by young (or new-to-the-art) winemakers who pooh-pooh this ability, experience, and talent as being peripheral to "good fruit." (When I was teaching, I met high school teachers who can't stand teenagers. What can you do but shake your head?)

Will post-cork-pop wine blending become the wine world's future craze?

Why not? Judicious post-opening blending could be an interesting way to learn about how winemakers strive for balance by blending varietals, vineyards, and even vintages. It sounds easy, but it's not always straightforward. A formula that makes sense cerebrally may not work in practice.

I once had the extreme good fortune to be Ken Volk's guinea pig on an evening when he was pre-blending seventeen different vineyard lots of pinot, many of them from Bien Nacido Vineyard. There was one block--I think it was "H Block"--that tasted fabulous on its own, but when combined with other lots it suppressed the whole thing. We tried blend after blend after blend . . . Ken started with neat sample bottles retrieved earlier from barrels he had selected, but as he grew more frustrated he would return to cellar for hastily collected beaker samples from different barrels. I tasted the blends blind. I tasted the unique samples blind. Then I closed my eyes while he switched the samples around like a Mexican shell game, to see if my perceptions were consistent. And they were. There was just something about Block H that had star quality in all regards, but it did not want to be a team player.

It was an eye-opening and educational experience for me. I think if more wine consumers "played" with their wine, they would soon learn that the mysterious alchemy of wine production can be almost as challenging as producing a perfect meal.