Merlot

Identifying Merlot in a blind tasting is not as easy as you might think.

It’s June 2002. I’m sitting in a meeting room at The Westin hotel in San Francisco for the Master of Wine exam.

The exam starts at 9 a.m., just when you really feel like tasting wine. There’s five consecutive days of examinations for your enjoyment.

Each day you have 12 wines in front of you, and very limited time to answer a barrage of questions. You have to answer everything about them.

Like, everything.

Country, region, sub-region, vintage, winemaking, type of oak in maturation, quality level, residual sugar in grams per liter, alcohol degree within 0.5%, and the list goes on. They’d also like a poetic description of the aromas and flavors worthy of Shakespeare.

Oh, and if you don’t get the grape variety correct, you just stepped on a landmine. Boom. Game over.

Years and years of practice, a 4% pass rate, and it all comes down to this. Tick tock. You’re on the clock…arguably the worst part of it all.

Hundreds of “images” of different wines flash through your mind. You desperately search for a memory match. Eyes closed. You smell the wine again.

Is it a Merlot? Or mostly Merlot? And where is it from?

You try to feel calm. But really, you’re gripped by anxiety. The stakes feel so high.

Some wines are easy. Merlot is often not.

Why is Merlot tricky

In 1993, I eagerly moved to Bordeaux to learn about wine. It was fun – really fun. I was working in the cellars during harvest earning minimum wage, madly in love with a French girl I couldn’t communicate with and drinking a bottle of beautiful wine every day. There was not a care in the world.

“Beaucoup de Merlot” said Jean-Marie, a vintner in Fronsac, a little-known appellation in Bordeaux. Digging into his steak frites, he seemed perplexed by my question about the percentage of Merlot in his wine. Silly question from the roast beef, as they call people from across the Channel.

You see, I had been to Napa Valley and I distinctly remember listening to the nice lady at Cain Vineyards rattle off the precise percentages of each grape in their Cain Five blend – down to the most tiny fractions. 74% Cabernet, 8% Merlot, 7% Cabernet Franc, 6% Malbec and, building up to the big reveal, 5% Petit Verdot. Not 75% Cabernet, no no, it’s 74. That was the formula.

But Jean-Marie didn’t seem to care. In fact, he didn’t even know. He shrugged his shoulders, French style.

This is one of the beautiful things about many vignerons in France. The sauce is made by touch and feel, not so much in a measuring cylinder, and not sold with the same marketing fibs about the composition.

You see, the first reason that Merlot can be tricky is that it is often part of a blend. It can be the vast majority, like in Petrus, or it can be much smaller, like in many chateaux in the Medoc.

Or it can be 100%, as they often do in California. Duckhorn being a benchmark.

Many other grapes, like Pinot Noir, Gamay, Zinfandel and others, are much easier to identify because many of them are single varietal wines. It gets confusing when something is in a blend. It might dominate, or it might be tucked away.

On top of that, Merlot has a lot of similar traits to Cabernet, Syrah and so many others. They’ll all deeply coloured, dark, full, and so on.

To further complicate matters, the grape changes a lot depending on the region. In some regions, Merlot is actually quite tannic, including many wines from Bordeaux or even Tuscany. That whole story about it always being soft, silky, and supple is utter nonsense.

As if the examiners are trying to make it near impossible to pass, loading the exam with tripwires and booby-traps, you can’t rule out some revolting Merlot from a weird region that tastes a million miles away from the classic version. You’ll later read on the examiners report that it was disappointing to see the majority of candidates didn’t correctly identify the inexpensive Greek Merlot.

Really.

What does it taste like

It’s broad. When you smell a Merlot it is often “wider” than other dark-skinned varieties. Cabernet can often funnel “inwards”, but Merlot expands out.

It’s to say that if you were to paint a picture of the aroma profile it would be more horizontal, and less vertical. That’s one clue. You have to try the two varieties side by side to see what I mean.

The fruit can be plummy, or maybe red cherry, fruitcake, and have some aspects of other red berries. But there’s often also black fruits – sorry. Life is complicated.

Spice is not unknown, throwing question marks about the possibility of Syrah for a hot second, at least in some instances. Chocolate and espresso can intertwine. Vanilla, smoke and toast from the oak can make it harder to dig beneath the surface to find its true ID.

Merlot is fat. It’s plump. Fleshy. It adds body to Cabernet. It’s more alcoholic too. The acidity is a touch lower than both Cabernet and Syrah from the same region.

And when it’s cheap and nasty it can be unusually pale, more like sweet cough medicine than wine, and has none of the traits of what makes bottles like Pavie so fine.

I wish I could be more helpful to you and rhyme off a description of Merlot akin to Sauvignon Blanc’s very typical and identifiable traits, but this is just not the case I’m afraid.

Where does it come from

Let’s at least make this part simple. So when it comes to origin I’ll advise you to buy your Merlot from one region. Saint-Émilion, or Pomerol if you’re feeling flush.

This is the benchmark. And these are the best wines.

Yes, some of them can be outrageously expensive, but I would suggest you don’t go in that direction to find an amazing Merlot-based wine.

Instead, buy the Saint-Émilion satellites, like Lussac, Montagne and Puisseguin. These “mini” Saint-Émilions can be found for somewhere between $20 and $50 a bottle, and represent outstanding value.

They are simply areas on the outskirts of Saint-Émilion, but they can have all the traits, including the ability to age for 10-30 years. I can vouch for this first-hand because I lived in a chateau in Lussac for a few years and had the keys to the wine library. Big mistake.

Otherwise, I have to say I’m a fan of Merlot from Napa and Tuscany. Washington State can also produce some stunners, and the Okanagan can impress too. And don’t forget Chile. The list goes on.

Merlot is an international brand, and like all things that become popular there are those who take pleasure in speaking badly of it. Don’t listen.

What to pair with it

This may not be practical… but what you do is gather up the vine prunings. So, yes, it helps to do this about 3-4 months after the harvest – and live in a wine region. Dry them out, and then put them in an open hearth. No vine prunings? Okay fine, just light up the BBQ.

When the vine twigs become red hot embers you toss some steaks on the grill. The smoke from the vine prunings gives a certain flavor to the beef. Make some roast potatoes and another side, such as grilled vegetables. Keep it simple. Add a touch of rock salt, which helps soften the tannins. Relax and enjoy a classic Sunday lunch, just as they do in la belle France.