- Book Reviews (1)
- Menu (3)
- Romance of Wine (30)
- Uncategorized (202)
- December 20, 2011: Final for 2011
- December 9, 2011: Year-end best
- November 22, 2011: For the love of it
- October 22, 2011: Winemaking 2011
- September 20, 2011: Joe Dressner
- September 6, 2011: The Definition of Insanity
- August 31, 2011: Léon who?
- August 20, 2011: A Plan for the Future Online
- July 14, 2011: Shining light
- June 25, 2011: California, there I went...
Books
NOTICE
VinoFiction at blogspot
Websites
Z.Blogroll
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
- April 2009
- March 2009
- February 2009
- January 2009
- December 2008
- November 2008
- October 2008
- September 2008
- August 2008
- July 2008
- June 2008
- May 2008
- April 2008
- March 2008
- February 2008
- January 2008
- December 2007
- November 2007
- October 2007
- September 2007
- August 2007
- July 2007
- June 2007
- May 2007
Snowflakes
Have you heard that every palate is a snowflake?
What a lovely sentiment; its meaning is, of course, that we have individual and unique palates.
Now aren’t we special.
Presumably, the snowflake concept tells us that wine is subjective and that what one person finds tasteful another may not. But it says even more than that. If no snowflake is alike, then the millions of wine consumers in this world account for millions of palates, and not one is like another therefore, talking about what you taste in a wine is akin to talking to yourself.
The problem with this snowflake concept is that many who say such things happen to also be people who make a living telling the rest of us what individual wines taste like or they are people who tell us what the wines they want to sell to us taste like. Really now, if every palate is a snowflake, then how can someone else’s wine description possibly benefit the rest of us?
Maybe those who tell us what to taste in a wine do so because they are endowed with a universal snowflake decoder. Or maybe at birth they were given the gift of a snowflake that represents the entire blizzard. Or maybe the snowflake sentiment is disingenuous drivel.
My suggestion to wine reviewers: please, dispense with the metaphors. If we are the individual arbiters of our own taste, through our own palates, then it seems that you have some explaining to do concerning the benefit of your wine review.
On the other hand, if you truly believe that yours is the accurate and superior snowflake—just say so. That way, we’ll know that we should disregard our own sensory information and go by yours.
If you choose this route, would you consider shedding the number ratings and just get on with the lecture?
Snowflake or no snowflake, some of us are math as well as palate impaired.
If you are reading this entry anywhere other than on the vinofictions blog, be aware that it has been lifted without my permission (and without recompense), and that’s a copyright infringement, no matter that the copyright information appears with it.
Copyright Thomas Pellechia
November 2009. All rights reserved.
7 Responses to “Snowflakes”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
November 13, 2009 at 12:18 pm
I just LOVE this post. How succintly you tackle the inherent problem with wine reviews.
I cancelled my subscription to Wine Spectator because of Jim Laube’s holier than thou approach to Napa cabernet reviews. I disagreed with the majority of his pontifications, so why waste my money. I can get half a dozen worthy reviews on different wine blogs for free. And the use of number ratings drives me to distraction.
When tasting cabernets I often get a hint of ‘Parma Violets’ a sweet I ate growing up in England. My husband, an American, has no idea what I am talking about. Does that make my palate superior to his? Of course not. If every palate is a “snowflake” then individual life experiences are something akin to fingerprints. Just be happy and content to have in your glass a vino you enjoy!
Great post.
November 13, 2009 at 1:14 pm
Thanks Vinogirl.
So, what’s a Parma Violet like?
By the way, does Huntley and Palmer still produce Marie Biscuits? I used to eat them in New York City by the pounds…
November 13, 2009 at 1:54 pm
Ha! My mother worked at Huntley & Palmers…it was her first job back in the work force after having 3 children. My dad loved Marie biscuits slathered with butter. The factory, outside of Liverpool, closed down many years ago, so I don’t know if they do stil make that line or not. Rich Tea is a similar biscuit.
Hmmm…Parma Violets taste like the smell of violets
November 13, 2009 at 2:32 pm
No, no, I meant what is a Parma Violet?
Is it a hard candy? A cookie?
Sad to hear about Marie Biscuit’s demise. Lovely stuff with butter and sometimes a quick dip into cold milk.
I’ve tried Rich Tea–not as delicate as Marie was. Hmm, this is getting risque.
November 13, 2009 at 4:18 pm
Same texture as Smarties (Swizzles in UK), in a roll wrapped in cellophane.
I think the brand ‘Lu’ still make Marie biscuits…nudge, nudge, wink, wink…
November 13, 2009 at 4:26 pm
Will keep my eyes open.