Sulfur Smells and the Search for a Clean Penny

So I'm just going to come out and say it - since I began writing this blog several months ago, I've come to sort-of hate the minutia involved with wine tasting. The first thing you'll learn when you start looking into wine writing - I mean, the really, really noticeable thing, is how writers tend to fixate on the tiniest elements of a wine. They'll spend days, weeks, months or even years trying to get to the bottom of a plaguing question like what makes a specific blend smell a bit like dirt.

Granted, it can drive me crazy. I'm of a personality type that is not scientifically inclined, and after a certain amount of investigation on the properties of wine - it really does become all about science. Chemistry plays a more and more integral part in the winemaking process, and the further we advance the subtle art of chemical compounds and formulas, the more we know about why good wines taste and/or smell the way they do.

Today I had the good fortune of reading an article that toes the line between being brilliant and annoying, thankfully landing on the former side of the fence and providing me with a smile to start the day. I've linked to Eric Asimov's blog at The NY Times, The Pour, a number of times, and the reason is posts like this recent one on his obsession with the smell of Sulfur. Asimov recently detected a sulfurous smell in a Greek white that drove him nuts for weeks. In the post he spends tremendous amounts of energy trying to get to the bottom of it. He decants bottles, lets them sit for hours, interviews scientists . . . really pulls out all of the stops. In the end, his solution to the problem is so simple (and kind-of gross) that it borders on poetic. I'll let you read the article for yourself, but let's just say that I don't think I'll be placing any pennies in my wine anytime soon . . . even if he might. Thank's Eric, you've made my day.