Appetite's most recent issue contains a hilarious tongue-in-cheek article by my friend and colleague, Kenny Leong. I know few, if any, writers in Singapore who can weave words about wine like he does. Here is his advice on becoming a wine critic.
On Becoming A Wine Critic
Unleash
your inner Robert Parker by following these simple steps.
by Kenny Leong
Lean. Austere. Thin. Round. Nervous. Smooth. Intense.
Bitter. Acidic. Nutty.
Sometimes, you might think wine writers are describing
mothers-in-law. Or maybe other winewriters. Otherwise, you might believe wine
writers are just plain looney. Either way, half the time you’re probably
right.
Even as a food and wine writer myself, I do read wine
reviews and wonder if the reviewer(s) might have had a little too much to drink.
But I think we can all agree on one thing — deep down, we all want to be
influential wine critics who can pontificate on any wine and capture the world’s
attention. We have a mini Robert Parker lurking in all of us. We all want to be
able to describe wine with fancy jargon and impress the girls (and the general
crowd).
Of course, the easiest, quickest and simplest way to
becoming a wine critic is just a click away. Go on Google and you can find
enough information on any wine to share over a boring social dinner. But anyone
can regurgitate information. And what if the information is wrong? After all,
the Internet is a platform for people to write things without having to support
it with hard evidence. A platform for every opinion potentially to be taken as
gospel truth. A platform, in other words, to end all
truth.
So. Spewing information taken off a technical fact sheet
will make you an absolute bore, and the Internet is potentially hazardous to
your credibility. What to do? The solution is simple — become your own maverick
wine critic. Do what wine writers sometimes seem to be doing. Describe your
mother-in-law, your neighbour’s pet, or that alluring person seated opposite
you.
Have you just been served a Sauvignon Blanc? Swirl the
glass, stick your nose right in, take a deep whiff, sip, and pontificate. The
trick here is to say it with unwavering confidence and just that right amount of
snobbery. “A little green, a little thin. Some cat’s pee, too. Oh but it has
balls of steel, maybe due to it being fermented in stainless steel tanks. Dry
and linear, kinda boring. Very acidic, too.” Then study the looks on the faces
of your fellow diners. It’ll be priceless.
Let’s try another wine. Suppose you’ve been served a
Chardonnay, the wine that, until recently, was fashionable to hate. With
ceremonious, purposeful motion, do the necessary: Swirl, sniff, sip and swallow
(it is generally considered inappropriate to expel your wine at dinner). Then
solemnly declare: “Big. Round. Flinty. A little fat, I think. And somewhat
nutty.”
If the lady seated opposite you is beautiful, tanned,
attractive and eloquent, you’re in luck. There is so much you can say about the
Riesling. “Very perfumed, floral and elegant. I see that it’s also nicely balanced,
nuanced, composed, delicate, restrained and nicely framed. Very sexy.” Remember
to wink.
Now, the same method applies for reds. Just remember
that a Pinot Noir is less dense than a Merlot, which is less dense than a
Cabernet Sauvignon. If there’s an unfamiliar wine and you’re stumped, just
refuse the drink.
But a good wine critic should never refuse a drink. So
maybe think of something we’re all familiar with, and something we all enjoy.
Say, our own best friend. “A little fruity. And it wears a perfume of heady
spice. Rich, sensual, and a little fleshy. I’m associating it with tobacco and
dark chocolate. This must be very popular and likeable.” If it’s a Pinot Noir,
think of your wife. “Wow! Sensual, smooth, elegant, and soft. Wears a perfume of
exotic fruit. I am thinking plum, raspberry and a touch of spice. This is all
about texture and finesse. Very refined and delicate. Truly deserving of all my
attention.”
And if it’s a Cabernet Sauvignon you’re drinking, think
of the one who helped you when you were down. “I sense incredible structure and
power. It’s bold and strong, like a pillar. Supple, vibrant and energetic. I
think this can handle a lot of situations.”
And there you have it. You are now an official maverick
wine critic. The only thing left to do is to start a wine blog. Then you’re set
to capture the world’s attention.
(APPETITE magazine, May 2011 - Subscribe here to see the rest of Appetite's contents)
