Time in a bottle

Does age matter? Find out for yourself.

by Thor Iverson

WHEN I TELL someone that I'm a wine writer, one of three questions always follows: "How did you get to be a wine critic?" "What's your favorite wine?" "What's the greatest bottle of wine you've ever had?"

The answer to the first one is easy: I bought my editor a shiny new Volvo. The second: riesling from Alsace, specifically Trimbach's Clos Ste-Hune. But the third question always gives me problems. There's one thing all the candidates have in common, though: they're all well-aged wines.

To the novice, aging wine can seem like arcane necromancy. And in a small apartment, with unpredictable temperatures and roommates who are likely to start uncorking your wine when they run out of MGD, it might be impractical (if not impossible). But only two things are required to age wine: the right storage conditions, and time.

Why would you want to age wine in the first place? You'll know why the first time you taste a mature bottle. Young wine is usually fruity, easy-to-drink juice that makes a simple, easy-to-understand statement. Tannin (when present) is big and bitter; so is any oak in the wine. Acidity levels can be mouth-puckering.

As wine ages, it goes through a series of chemical changes, most of which science hasn't quite figured out yet. Rough edges are smoothed, oak blends in, tannin becomes silky dryness, wild fruitiness fades. Flavors and aromas also change; fruit gives way to earthiness, richness, and complex tastes that can be impossible to pin down. A young wine might scream "CHERRIES!" to all within earshot, but the same wine 20 years later might whisper of baked apples, wild game, nutmeg, clove, and soil.

Not all wines are blessed with the ability to age, of course. In fact, most of the world's wines are specifically designed for early drinking. And then there are wines that age but do not improve, wines that lose their fruit without gaining the complex secondary and tertiary qualities that make wine worth waiting for. Many popular California cabernets, merlots, zinfandels, pinot noirs, and chardonnays will never be better than they are the day they're purchased. It's important to remember that this isn't a bad thing; there's nothing wrong with enjoying wine for its unabashed fruitiness, and there's nothing wrong with wine that doesn't age.

With the few wines that do age, there are additional hurdles to cross. A wine that's been aged too long will be "dead," in wine parlance, exhibiting a total lack of fruit, the taste of oak and nothing else, a vinegar-like flavor, or an oxidized, sherry-like quality. But wines that are built to age for a long time (like red Bordeaux) are fruity and fresh when young, then do a vanishing act for a period of years (or decades). Oenophiles call this sort of wine "closed," and it's a most distressing phenomenon to the novice, for a closed wine quite literally tastes dead. Perhaps a faint hint of fruit, a lot of tannin, some oak, some acidity, but little else. With experience, you can differentiate between "closed" and "dead," but an easy way to tell the difference is to decant and aerate the wine in question. Dead wines will only get more dead, but closed wines will open up after a few hours (sometimes days) and hint at their future potential.

In an upcoming column, I'll go into more detail about wines that do age, how long to keep them, and the proper conditions under which to do so. But for now, it's important to determine whether you actually like the taste of mature wine, because not everyone does. Gather a few wine-loving friends and split the cost of several bottles of old Bordeaux, Hermitage, Barolo, or German riesling. Or try one of these excellent aged wines:

1983 Dr. H. Thanisch Riesling Wehlener Sonnenuhr Spätlese ($21.99). This vivid green-gold wine from one of Germany's best vineyards (Sonnenuhr, in Wehlen) is rich and tangy, tasting of overripe apple, minerals, chalk, lime, and grass. Sweet ripeness is counterbalanced by crystalline acidity. Try it with mildly spicy chicken and pork dishes.

1992 Rooiberg Cellars Pinotage Robertson ($6.49). South African pinotage can be unpleasant, inky stuff when young, but age transforms it. This one is like drinking the forest floor, with complex cedar, brown-sugar, moss, berry, and earth aromas. Bright acidity keeps this otherwise serious wine light on its feet. Serve with light red-meat dishes.

1990 Fritz Haag Brauneberger Juffer-Sonnenuhr Riesling Kabinett ($16.95). You could be done drinking this low-alcohol wine before you're done writing down the name. Intense mineral, steel, and iron qualities reflective of the terroir, with mushroom and apples dancing around the tingly acidity. A highly defined and sharp wine, to be served with mildly spiced fish.

1988 Taurino Rosso del Salento Notarpanaro ($11.25). Widely available, as is the equally outstanding 1990. A feast of "black" flavors: earth, clove, truffle, licorice, black cherry, blueberry, blackberry, spice, and roasted cashew, unbelievable structure and quality at this price. Literally a beautiful wine, one that could still age but goes well now with aggressive mushroom dishes.

Thor Iverson can be reached at wine[a]phx.com.