The restaurant ritual with wine is reminiscent of the mating dance of the brolga. Nobody really knows what it’s supposed to mean, although beneath it all we’re convinced there must lie some deep and unutteral truth. The dance usually begins with the cork which, once extracted by the waiter, is usually presented to the diner with the satisfaction of a cat presenting a fresh kill before its owners. If appearances are important, frown slightly, take up the cork, examine it and even take a sniff at it. But really, we’re drinking wine, not corks, and despite the ceremony that can surround them, an off-smelling or awful-looking cork can indeed deliver an excellent and sound wine. The only worthwhile part of this procedure for all but the most experienced professionals is to taste the wine when it is presented. Which takes me to the matter of tasting the wine. While it’s sadly but perfectly true that many wine waiters don’t understand why they’re doing it, they’re actually pouring you a taste for you to determine whether or not the wine has been affected by its cork, its storage or is otherwise spoiled by a significant wine fault. Oddly enough, in my experience, once they have made you this gesture, most waiters are still prepared to take issue with you if you then perceive a problem with the wine. The most commonly detected problem that cork causes is to impart a smell and taste of mouldy wet cardboard into the wine, most likely the result of a chemical called 2,4,6 trichloroanisole (or TCA). While there are other cork taints, such as a less-common woody cork taste, perhaps the most damaging effect of cork taint is that it dulls wine flavour. When the taint level is below the individual’s level of perception, people might miss its presence entirely, believing instead that the wine they ordered might just be ordinary and underwhelming. This is potentially very damaging to wineries in the marketplace. More common, in my view, is the phenomenon presently known as ‘random oxidation’, which is presently the subject of much controversy. Whatever the actual cause is, air has managed to enter the wine, either through or around the cork. Again, at low levels, this can simply dull the wine, and most people would not be confident enough to demand another bottle. At higher levels, random oxidation can produce strong toffee-like or brown (cut) apple smells, not unlike sherry or madeira. Most damaging, though, are the low-level taints, which I have seen go past un-noticed even by the same people who made the wines. The presence or not of significant winemaking flaws is worth a chapter in a book. Suffice for this moment in time, if your wine smells strongly of rotten egg gas, burned car tires, nail polish remover (unless it is a late-harvest dessert wine), aeroplane glue, mouse urine (true!), used bandages or vinegar, I’d politely suggest to the waiter that you attempt to enjoy another bottle instead!
