Tannins in red wine are something we feel, not taste. Sadly, too few wine drinkers get to feel them these days. So where have they gone?
Ever since the advent of wines that did not deteriorate rapidly (because they were sealed securely in glass bottles), people have savored the sensation imparted by tannins. That first happened in the early eighteenth century. And it happened because winemakers and wine drinkers understood that the firm, sometimes pasty, tactile sensations imparted by tannins give red wines structure. Tannins help prevent wines from feeling flaccid or flabby. They function much like the keystone in an arch or the keel in a ship’s hull, holding everything together in successful alignment.
Tannins also serve another function. Since they can precipitate over time, their presence allows a red wine that feels harsh when young to feel softer and gentler after time spent in bottle. That same wine then may develop subtle, nuanced secondary (i.e., not primary fruit) flavors, becoming more complex and so more compelling. In short, tannins are the primary chemical compounds that enable some red wines not just to endure but actually to evolve and improve over time. They make aging wine possible.
So why are so many contemporary red wines deficient in the sensations imparted by tannins? The answer is not that people no longer cellar and age wines. Buying wine and holding onto it for years before drinking it never has been a common activity. Even in the mid-nineteenth century, the golden age of aged red wines (particularly Bordeaux), only a small percentage of consumers owned cellars and drank old wines.
No, the real answer is that styles have shifted—away from astringency and defined structures, and towards pliability and cotton-candy softness. Contemporary winemaking technology has enabled this shift, just as the unprecedented influence exerted by certain influential critics has encouraged it.
The upshot is that “soft,” a disparaging descriptor just a generation ago, has become one of the highest terms of praise used by both winemakers and critics. A new generation of wine drinkers rarely experiences firm tannins, as seemingly everyone wants their red wines to feel soft nowadays.
The problem—and it is a problem—is that softness comes at a price, or prices. In order for a red wine truly to feel soft, the grapes have to hang long on the vine, producing high levels of sugar and, in the process, high levels of alcohol. Lacking the structure that tannins provide, those wines frequently feel fat and heavy when you drink them. And they often lack complexity, the ripe or often over-ripe taste of fruit overwhelming any subtle secondary flavors.
“Soft” admittedly can sound appealing when used to describe wine. But it can as well when talking about a mattress, even though a “firm” bed will most likely result in a better night’s sleep. With wine, the word “soft” actually more often than not denotes a simple, monolithic wine. It also frequently suggests saccharine-like sweetness. Precisely because so many “soft” wines lack a clear structure, they seem amorphous—which is perhaps the defining characteristic of today’s so-called “international style.”
The global shift in red-wine styles over the last decade or so has been accompanied by an equally notable shift in tastes (on the part of critics, consumers, and winemakers alike). The result is a bevy of structurally less satisfying red wines. This is true in the United States, Australia, and other New World counties to be sure, but also in France, Italy, Spain, and the rest of the Old World.
High quality red wines still need tannins—not primarily for aging, but rather for structure, harmony, and balance. So when styles and tastes shift again, as they surely will, tannins will be back. After all, they are a principal element in providing red wines with personality and character.
For now, however, we’re in the midst of a softness craze. That’s why savvy wine drinkers do well to remember the old Pete Seeger song: Where have all the tannins gone? Well, “long time passing.”
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