It’s hard to describe almost any taste you truly care about. Go ahead and try. Take chocolate, for example: it’s sweet (if it’s made with sugar) or bitter (if it isn’t). If it’s produced one... Read More

It’s hard to describe almost any taste you truly care about. Go ahead and try. Take chocolate, for example: it’s sweet (if it’s made with sugar) or bitter (if it isn’t). If it’s produced one way, it’s milky and obviously delicious; another way, it’s a dry, tannic thing that reminds you of coffee and flowers and makes you want to sell everything and move to Ecuador.
 
But does any of that really explain what makes your favorite single-origin chocolate bar your favorite? What is it about the swirl of flavors, aromas, and textures that makes it so much more than just a tasty, chocolatey treat?
 
Of course not. Those details are harder to put into words. You find yourself using metaphors and allusions, maybe to art (the spice is “pointillist”) or music (the cascade of flavors “reminds you of symphony”). But share that description with someone who’s never eaten any chocolate but a basic grocery candy bar and they may just wonder what on earth you’re talking about.

And if you read Brad Friedman’s description of what he’s doing at Ghostnote, you might have a similar reaction:

“A ‘ghost note’ is a technical musical term. It is a note that can be physically written which has a rhythmic value but no clear pitch or accent. Essentially they’re written notes that are inaudible.  These are the notes that help convey context, and add textural complexity and nuance to a piece of music. They are the notes that allow the best wines and the best vineyards sites to transcribe these sentiments.  The idea is that the best songs and the best grooves, hit the best ghost notes, and so do the best vineyards and the best wines.”

But if you were lucky enough to join us when Brad visited the shop and poured a selection of his hits, you know exactly what he’s getting at.

Brad’s making wines with Italian varieties and the wines have true varietal character. The Sagrantino has the traditional darkness, a note that might remind you of a Paulo Bea wine. But Brad’s aren’t Italian wines and his Sagrantino also has California joy, a coastal freshness, a new world sense of delight. 

Those are the notes that it hits, and they’re great. But the wine’s true magic isn’t in the flavors and aromas you can describe. It’s in the things you can only point at but not express. The brooding character of the Sagrantino underpins all the more precise flavors. It’s the real essence of Sagrantino from Montefalco and while there’s no way to pin that character on a single aroma or flavor – while in some sense it’s simply inaudible – it is also not just real, but essential.