The Board Blog

Crudely, the molecular changes known to unfold in a sealed wine bottle that has been laid down for years involve the gradual interaction of oxygen and wine. Simple chemical compounds break down and recombine into more and more complex forms called polymeric phenols. Acidity and alcohol soften. The largest compounds - the harsh, astringent tannins - drift down into a carpet of sediment, taking with them the saturated, inky pigments. They leave behind a mellowed, unfathomably subtle flavor and brick-red hue. Everything knits together, resolving into an ever finer complexity expressed fragrantly in the wine's bouquet.

At least that's how it is supposed to work. Just as oxygen yellows newspapers and browns apples, it spoils wine, but the process is more complex. There is also a beneficial oxidation that helps a wine mature. Paradoxically, wine is improving even as it is being destroyed; time will kill a wine, but is also necessary to make it great. This dual process is visible after a bottle has been opened. Aeration of wine - whether by decanting a bottle, swirling one's glass, or sloshing a mouthful around - is a form of controlled oxidation. The aim is to improve the wine by helping it open up after its long confinement in a bottle. Leave an uncorked bottle or glass out too long, and it will be ruined.

The trick that the greatest old bottles of wine pull off is keeping long enough to blossom. The tiny amount of air in a bottle of wine, the porous cork that allows a slow exchange of oxygen over decades, the coolness of a cellar that decelerates chemical reactions in the wine, the humidity of a cellar and horizontal storage that ensure a cork stays moist and maintains a seal - all these practices are aimed at fostering beneficial changes while deterring destructive ones. A wine is considered mature when it has maximized its flavor possibilities but has not yet begun to deteriorate. (an excerpt from The Billionaire's Vinegar, Benjamin Wallace)