With respect to French wine it is the basis of their Appellation d’origine contrôlée (AOC), that has been the model for the appellation and wine laws around the world. For example, in Canada we use Vintners’ Quality Alliance, or VQA to confirm the authenticity of origin of Canadian wines. At the core of this assumption is that the land where the grapes are grown, imparts a unique quality to the wine that is specific to that region.
Much has, and continues to be said about the importance of matching the “correct” wine with food, but I have not personally come across anything that speaks directly to choosing a wine to compliment your physical surroundings.
Therefore, if we are prepared to accept the notion that our physical surroundings can influence what we taste in a wine, it would be necessary to expand the definition of Terroir, or “a sense of place,” to include the physical location where we would be drinking it.
Far fetched? Perhaps, and while I’m not suggesting that by opening a bottle of wine in your garage it will miraculously take on the taste of used oil and old bicycles, but the effect that your physical surroundings, and what you are doing at the time may have on you psychologically, will in some instances, influence what you taste.
For example, if you are having an intense business lunch in a noisy, bustling restaurant, it probably doesn’t make a great deal of sense to order a vintage wine that has reached it’s peak in terms of “drinkability,” because given your current surroundings, you are not likely going to be in the right frame of mind to truly appreciate what that wine has to offer. Take that same wine, and serve it during a leisurely dinner in more intimate surroundings without all of the distractions, and you will likely get far more from it, particularly when it comes to taste.
Our camp is buried deep within north western Ontario’s boreal forest, and other than me, my wife Lauren and our two Alaskan Malamutes, the only other inhabitants are the local wildlife, which is not surprising given that we have the only piece of deeded property within a 300,000-acre expanse of Crown Land.
While camp activities vary somewhat from day to day, the one relative constant is that we enjoy sipping on a glass or two of wine, either before and/or during dinner on most days.
When planning our very first trip, I was concerned about the weight and volume of all the gear that we would need to set up camp. Because everything must be hauled in by boat or float plane, I was not enamoured with the prospect of having to make a great many boat trips, or in the alternative, going to the expense of chartering a plane.
This of course included our wine, so to cut down on our overall weight, we brought in several tetra packs of an Australian wine that while not horrible, did not improve my opinion of wine that comes in a box.
Now that our equipment was in camp (we managed to do it in two boat trips), and because the majority of it would be remaining there, I no longer had the same restrictions regarding weight, and therefore could bring in whatever I wanted without worrying about the amount, and type of container it was in.
But the challenge now was - what wines to choose?
While I planned to select wines that would compliment our menu, which for the most part is made up of pretty basic camp fare, that was not going to be my only consideration. I gave some serious thought to both what we would be doing and the physical setting where we would be drinking our wine, and then chose accordingly.
It’s usually very quiet in and around camp and we spend most of our time fishing, reading, walking along our beach, and just otherwise kicking back in a rather idyllic and pristine wilderness setting. Most of the sounds not produced by Mother Nature herself are of our own making, and I was bound and bent that one of those sounds was going to be the squeak and pop of a cork as it was removed from the bottle, rather than the metallic crack of a screw top, or the dull zipping sound that is produced when removing the paper thin aluminium tab from one of those God awful wine boxes.
Now I don’t want you to consider this as an indictment against the use of screw tops or aluminium tabs on wine containers - I will leave that discussion to others who are better qualified to take that one on - but the pop of a real cork was simply going to be more in harmony with our natural surroundings.
At the end of the day we brought along a wide selection of types and styles of wines. Big chewy reds for cooler days that matched up very well with settling in with a good book and grilled steaks. Crisp, dry Rieslings, and full bodied Viogniers bursting with tropical fruit overtones, that enhanced our blueberry picking, smoked chicken breasts and fresh, pan fried Walleye fillets. Rosé from the Saint-Chinian appellation, which was at home with most things on the menu, and any number of activities on a lazy summer day, and a Chianti or two that married well with our pasta dishes, or when walking along the beach with the dogs.
It would seem that our choices met with the approval of our two resident Malamutes, as they would be quick to dip their tongues into any unattended glasses that were not placed beyond their considerable reach. But then again they enjoy eating disgusting dead things, so I’m not planning on consulting them about next year’s selections any time soon.
So the next time you plan on drinking some wine, before making your choice, try thinking outside of the box – no pun intended - and factor in your physical surroundings along with the activity you will be engaged in, because as we have come to realize, it’s not all that easy to find a wine that goes well with scratching your dog behind the ear, fresh fish, and spruce trees.
Special thanks to Daun Bailey at Barrel Select Wines for making many of the wines we enjoyed while in camp available to us. You can check out her selection of fine wines by contacting Daun at www.barrelselect.com
