I just don’t seem to taste the things that other people taste, picking up notes of gooseberries and nuances of brambles, and so on. [Maybe it’s due to too many high octane Zins and Shirazes. Who knows?] And that’s probably why I found trying to contribute to Eve’s blog so darn intimidating.
I know when I like something.
I know when a Turley Zin blows me away.
Or when I’m digging a Mollydooker Blue-Eyed Boy Shiraz.
Or enjoying the impenetrable darkness of a Biale Petite Sirah.
But I can rarely tell you why.
Often, I’ll recognize a flavor when someone points it out to me. But that’s not the same as noticing it myself. And, then I might get called out, like when my brother-in-law thought it was funny that I agreed with Stephanie at All Corked Up when she tried our Copain Syrah and pointed out the bell pepper notes. [But, then my brother-in-law pretty much always laughs at me.]
I definitely get the whole “cat pee” thing associated with certain Sauvignon Blancs. [And I like it.]
I enjoyed the lavender notes I got from an Outpost Zinfandel.
And I occasionally like the vanilla flavors from oak, so long as they don’t overpower the wine.
And barrel tasting David Fulton’s first Zin gave me an amazing milk chocolate experience.
But, mostly, I either just like it or I don’t.