“All right. Let me go off the subject for a few minutes so I can answer this question. We’ll get back to the Franc in a minute. Does anybody know why some wines are white and others are red?”
Syrah man jumps in. “Of course. White wine is made from white grapes, and red wine is made from red grapes, or black grapes as they’re sometimes called.”
“You’re generally correct,” I say. “But you can make white wine from red grapes.”
“How would you do that?” he asks.
“You simply remove the skins before making the wine. The flesh of all grapes is white. This is common in sparkling wine. You often see a sparkling wine labeled blanc de noirs. That’s French for white of black. In other words, a white wine made from black grapes.”
“Interesting. So that’s what those French words mean. I’ve seen them.”
“Then you must be a fan of sparkling wine.”
“Oh, yeah. Love the stuff.”
“Then of course,” I continued, “we have pink wine, which is called rosé. This is where blush wines come in. The term blush originated a couple decades ago and was used to describe very light-pink wines that only had”—air quotes—“a blush of color. Later the term came to mean rosé wines that were sweeter in nature, like white zinfandel. Rosés are normally dry. Anyway, rosé wines are made with dark grapes that are crushed, and then the skins are only allowed to stay in contact with the juice for a little while. They can be refreshing and delicious, and because the skins are only in contact for a short time, they usually lack tannin.”
“What’s tannin?” someone asks.
I smile. “I’m glad you asked that, because it segues nicely back to the Cab Franc. We’ll touch on tannin when we taste the wine. Let’s get back to our discussion of color. After intensity, the next thing to look for is opacity. How opaque is this wine? Can you see through it at all?”
Glasses swirl.
“It doesn’t seem to be completely opaque,” one woman says.
“Good,” I reply. “Cabernet Franc is traditionally lighter than a Cabernet Sauvignon or a Syrah. Take a look at the bottom of your glass. See anything there?”
Murmurs of “no” flood the room.
“That’s because this one is filtered. In unfiltered wines, you’ll see some sediment at the bottom. This is common in Italian wines and some French wines. Most wines made here in the US are filtered. Now, take a look at the actual color of the wine.”
“It’s red!” Someone laughs.
I join in the laughter. “There’s one in every crowd, folks. Look closer, though. It’s actually not red. It’s more of a maroon or burgundy. When you think of red, you think of a candy apple or a fire engine, right?”
More laughter along with agreement.
“Look at the color around the inside of the glass as opposed to the color in the center. Is there any difference?”
“Is it a little lighter?” someone asks.
“Yes, it is. The main value of the color is in the center. Does anyone see anything other than a dark red in this wine?”
Negative murmurs.
“Good job. There’s not a lot of differential in this particular wine color. As red wines age, though, you’ll typically see a little orange and a little brown. If any of you ever have the chance to try a fully aged Bordeaux from France or an aged fine Cab from California, take note of the color. It will look a lot different than this wine. Now let’s get back to the nose.”
“The nose?” Blondie asks.
“Yes. The nose is how we refer to the smell of the wine. With the apple wine, we found scents of apples, of course, along with honeysuckle and citrus. With red wines, however, you’re going to be able to discern a lot more fragrances. So swirl it in your glass, and then take a good long sniff.”
“Blueberries.”
“Or blackberries.”
“Try to be more specific,” I say. “You’re saying blueberries, but I think you mean currants. Specifically black currants, also known as cassis.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever smelled a black currant,” the taster says.
“I understand. Blueberries makes sense, if that’s the case. I’m also getting blackberries, as the other gentleman said. What else? Don’t limit yourself to fruit. Good red wine exhibits all kinds of fragrances, some not related to fruit at all.”
“It’s got a spiciness to it,” Syrah man says. “Some black pepper, maybe?”
“Very good. I definitely smell black pepper. What would you say if I told you I’m also getting a scent of green pepper?”
Fourteen noses dip back into the goblets.
“Maybe,” someone says. “I can almost smell green pepper.”
“Does green pepper even have a smell?” Blondie asks.
“Think of the smell of the taste of green pepper,” I say.
She huffs. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
Dale finally chimes in. “Actually, it makes perfect sense. Your sense of taste and sense of smell are intertwined. You know what green pepper tastes like, so think of that flavor as you smell the wine.”