Stickin' a Fork in Cork?
Warning: Due to the intoxicating nature of this column, you must be 21 or older to consume it.
Today's topic is wine. Wine corks, actually, and it's the first wine-related article in months that doesn't mention, even once, the smashed - I mean, smash wine-fixated film "Sideways."
Oops. Well, only once.
I don't know much about wine. For example, I'd probably fail this challenge I read on the Internet: "Could you distinguish between a $200 bottle of aged Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon and a $10 bottle of French plonk?"
This used to be easy - the Cabernet would be plugged with cork, and the plonk would have a twist-off top. But nowadays, it's likely to be the other way around.
This shift is fueling a heated debate in the world of wine: What's the proper stopper? Corks are under attack from screw caps, synthetic plugs and even highly engineered tops called - really - "zorks," which hermetically re-seal the wine for later re-use (and, in high-end models, will capture digital images of anyone sneaking swigs straight from the bottle).
A magazine called Wine Spectator (slogan: "For people who like watching other people drink wine!") devoted its latest cover story to this corktroversy. And if you're wondering how in the world I'll write an entire article about wine corks, consider that Wine Spectator had three of 'em - around 6,700 words total. That amounts to nine of my columns! I asked Kevin Green for that much space for this story, and he said maybe someday, as long as I'm funnier than Wine Spectator. Which should be easy, thanks to my new favorite words, "plonk" and "zork."
This isn't to say that Wine Spectator isn't funny. Consider these descriptions of highly recommended wines:
* "Distinct lemon curd flavors." Yuck! This brings to mind the disgusting "lemonade wine" one of my college buddies once made to celebrate the end of finals.
* "A firm, chewy style." Hunh?
* "Balances flavors of blackberry and pencil shavings." Hunh AND yuck. Although come to think of it, pencil shavings would've definitely improved that lemonade wine.
But back to the cork debate. Two Wine Spectator editors engaged in a war of words over it: one loves cork, the other hates it, saying its time has passed.
For the guy who loves cork, it's mostly about tradition, and the "theater" of wine drinking - he loves the "pop" the cork makes when it's pulled from the bottle. He says wine without cork is uncivilized, and expects a corked bottle when he plunks his money down, even for French plonk.
The guy who hates cork prefers screw caps, or even synthetic stoppers, which he praises for their "firm, chewy style."
The main reason people dislike cork is that it can cause genuine quality problems in wine. Cork often contains a chemical with a long, tongue-twisting name, known to experts in the science of winemaking as "The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name." It's one of nature's most powerful odorants, and wine soaks up its mustiness. This is why cork-scented Right Guard never caught on.
(NOTE: The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name is just one of many things that can harm a wine's quality; for example, there's another group of contaminants called "thiols." Wine Spectator describes thiols as - this is a direct quote - "stinky compounds." But I happen to know, from watching one of those Paid Programs on TV featuring Suzanne Somers, that you can neutralize them by buying a gizmo called a "Thiol-Master.")
Amazingly, if you're an expert wine taster, you can detect The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name at levels as low as one part per trillion. Imagine - a mere one in a trillion could turn your expensive bottle of Reverse Cabinet into a jug of finals-week lemonade-plonk!
As far as I'm concerned, that's too big a risk. I'm huge on tradition, but if I experience the heartbreak of tasting The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name when I'm fervently anticipating the flavor of pencil shavings, then cork has to go.
But what about the cork farmers? They need to make a living. So I say, if something synthetic must replace a natural product made from tree bark, we must find a way to use natural tree bark to replace something synthetic. . .perhaps starting with various parts of Suzanne Somers.
# # #
It would be so vine to hear from you. takefiveT5w@yahoo.com
Today's topic is wine. Wine corks, actually, and it's the first wine-related article in months that doesn't mention, even once, the smashed - I mean, smash wine-fixated film "Sideways."
Oops. Well, only once.
I don't know much about wine. For example, I'd probably fail this challenge I read on the Internet: "Could you distinguish between a $200 bottle of aged Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon and a $10 bottle of French plonk?"
This used to be easy - the Cabernet would be plugged with cork, and the plonk would have a twist-off top. But nowadays, it's likely to be the other way around.
This shift is fueling a heated debate in the world of wine: What's the proper stopper? Corks are under attack from screw caps, synthetic plugs and even highly engineered tops called - really - "zorks," which hermetically re-seal the wine for later re-use (and, in high-end models, will capture digital images of anyone sneaking swigs straight from the bottle).
A magazine called Wine Spectator (slogan: "For people who like watching other people drink wine!") devoted its latest cover story to this corktroversy. And if you're wondering how in the world I'll write an entire article about wine corks, consider that Wine Spectator had three of 'em - around 6,700 words total. That amounts to nine of my columns! I asked Kevin Green for that much space for this story, and he said maybe someday, as long as I'm funnier than Wine Spectator. Which should be easy, thanks to my new favorite words, "plonk" and "zork."
This isn't to say that Wine Spectator isn't funny. Consider these descriptions of highly recommended wines:
* "Distinct lemon curd flavors." Yuck! This brings to mind the disgusting "lemonade wine" one of my college buddies once made to celebrate the end of finals.
* "A firm, chewy style." Hunh?
* "Balances flavors of blackberry and pencil shavings." Hunh AND yuck. Although come to think of it, pencil shavings would've definitely improved that lemonade wine.
But back to the cork debate. Two Wine Spectator editors engaged in a war of words over it: one loves cork, the other hates it, saying its time has passed.
For the guy who loves cork, it's mostly about tradition, and the "theater" of wine drinking - he loves the "pop" the cork makes when it's pulled from the bottle. He says wine without cork is uncivilized, and expects a corked bottle when he plunks his money down, even for French plonk.
The guy who hates cork prefers screw caps, or even synthetic stoppers, which he praises for their "firm, chewy style."
The main reason people dislike cork is that it can cause genuine quality problems in wine. Cork often contains a chemical with a long, tongue-twisting name, known to experts in the science of winemaking as "The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name." It's one of nature's most powerful odorants, and wine soaks up its mustiness. This is why cork-scented Right Guard never caught on.
(NOTE: The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name is just one of many things that can harm a wine's quality; for example, there's another group of contaminants called "thiols." Wine Spectator describes thiols as - this is a direct quote - "stinky compounds." But I happen to know, from watching one of those Paid Programs on TV featuring Suzanne Somers, that you can neutralize them by buying a gizmo called a "Thiol-Master.")
Amazingly, if you're an expert wine taster, you can detect The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name at levels as low as one part per trillion. Imagine - a mere one in a trillion could turn your expensive bottle of Reverse Cabinet into a jug of finals-week lemonade-plonk!
As far as I'm concerned, that's too big a risk. I'm huge on tradition, but if I experience the heartbreak of tasting The Chemical With The Long Tongue-Twisting Name when I'm fervently anticipating the flavor of pencil shavings, then cork has to go.
But what about the cork farmers? They need to make a living. So I say, if something synthetic must replace a natural product made from tree bark, we must find a way to use natural tree bark to replace something synthetic. . .perhaps starting with various parts of Suzanne Somers.
# # #
It would be so vine to hear from you. takefiveT5w@yahoo.com
posted by Don Stuart at 1:08 PM
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