How I Cross-Trained My Palate

A month ago I reminded readers that they could be the unwitting victims of palate fatigue if they didn't remember that palates, just like everything else, need cross-training to remain sharp. I encouraged everybody to do something outside their wine comfort zone in order to get their palates tingling and ready for 2008.

What did I do? I turned to Cabernet Franc, which (like Gatorade) is my training liquid of choice. Why? Because nothing wakes your palate, and the aroma sensors that co-pilot it, like Cab Franc. It's not like other red wines, in that it often tastes green. It challenges you to think outside the fruit-forward box, and appreciate the herbal things in life. And it is grown in places as diverse as Bordeaux, the North Coast of the US, Hungary, and Argentina. It is one of the world's most classic, and least appreciated, grapes. And I don't drink it all that often, so it made it perfect for cross-training purposes.

What was it like? The 2004 Lang & Reed Red Shed North Coast that I opened met all of my cross-training expectations, since patience, persistence, and an open mind were required to fully appreciate this very good QPR wine. (domaine547, $17.99) It had pronounced aromas of aromas of green pepper and cassis upon first opening it, and these elements made up the dominant flavors, too. I immediately felt challenged. It was not Mt. Kilimanjaro, but it was like facing one of those rock walls with the fake toe-holds in it. Something scary and not scary at the same time. So I waited about an hour and tried again. A nice, silky plushness had emerged which helped to keep the green pepper (which hadn't gone away) in check. I tried it with food, and felt like I was beginning to hit my stride with this wine. It cried out for one of those louche meals of my suburban childhood: pepper steak with white rice. I had it with a burger instead, but I kept thinking of pepper steak.

I corked the rest of the bottle, and decided to try it again the next day. I didn't use any preservative or vacuum pumps, because I wanted this wine to get some air into it. I'm glad I did, because it was very different. One thing remained: that lovely plushness, which reminded me of an old silk-velvet opera coat that belonged to my grandmother: silky, soft, and deep. I tasted black currants and plum, and the pepperiness was more rich than green but retained a nice freshness. On night two I had it with a Rachael Ray chicken chili and it was a terrific pairing, with the wine standing up to the tomatoes and peppers in the dish without overpowering them.

After I drank my cab franc, all the white wines I tasted seemed fresher, the red wines fruitier. At the same time, I felt tuned into the herbal, grassy, and forest notes of these wines in ways that I hadn't been before. Instead of things tasting "green" they tasted of tarragon, thyme, and pine. My impressions were indeed sharper, and more specific. Cross-training is definitely worth it, based on this limited attempt.