wine column
a screw loose
Corks have been used as stoppers for containers of liquids since the invention of the wheel. It is a moot point which was the more useful invention. The former led to a convenient method of keeping and transporting liquids; the latter to the motor car. But man owes an enormous debt to whichever brilliant ancient scientist worked out that cork, being flexible and pliable, made a far better (and cleaner) stopper than a wooden bung. Most transportable forms of liquids have moved on from cork. Metals and then plastic, in particular, opened up new methods of keeping the liquid inside the container. Screw tops, ringpulls, the weird and wonderful plastic stopper with a rubber ring on a metal cantilever (still used on some beers) and other splendid systems have transformed the ways in which all liquids can be both kept inside and kept fresh. All, that is, except wine. There is something very satisfactory about the gentle pop made by the removal of the cork from the bottle of wine. The sound conjures up a promise of delights to come, memories of past delights, and an immediate thirst. These are reactions which are programmed in to the brain from an early age and have nothing to do with the actual sound (compare the noise made by the dentist taking the top off the drill). The psschht of a ring pull being removed from a can of beer has the same effect but compare your reaction to the same noise when the ring-pull is removed from a can of carbonated, sweetened, E-numbered gloop. Removing the cork from wine also has a certain ceremony about it which can add to the anticipation. The drama of dusting off the foil cap, the gentle insertion of the screw, the easing out of the cork until the final pop and then the sniffing: all these are part of the mystery. True, all true. But corks can actually damage wine. It seems that the corks from Spain and Portugal (most of them) are normally bleached in chlorine before washing and drying. This can, if all the chlorine is not removed, produce an unpleasant chemical which reacts badly with the wine creating vinegar inside the bottle. Corks can also breathe and therefore may be infused with bad smells around them if the wine is not correctly stored. Most corks survive and do their job properly but I have had a ‘corked’
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bottle more than once and so have you. Rather embarrassing if in a restaurant, rather infuriating if at home. Plastic corks avoid this problem but are no fun. They are more difficult to take out than real corks and are so obviously a substitute for the real thing that they show up the disadvantages of the cork removal process without any of the advantages. The ‘pop’ is a synthetic copy, the extra strength required has one fearing for the integrity of the bottle and there is no sniffing involved. So why not come to the obvious solution, adopted for all other drinks: the screw top. The traditional producers, especially in Bordeaux, have always eschewed such a step into modernity. They claim that the wine is a natural product and interacts with the natural cork to produce better ageing and so on and on. This might be an acceptable argument if the producers had not so enthusiastically adopted other modern methods of production. How many grapes are now picked by hand and crushed by foot? Aren’t sulphates marvellous for ensuring clarity? Is not a stainless steel vat rather more efficient than wooden barrels or iron cases? These matters are not seen by the final consumer but
While it is true Swiss wine generally tastes pretty mediocre except when on the top of a mountain overlooking a lake, this is not because of the screw top
the cork is, and it helps foster the impression of a natural product using natural materials. The same, incidentally, is true of Perrier water. The label claims that it is bottled, sparkling natural water, direct from the source — in other words we are led to believe that there is no human intervention involved in providing the sparkle. Not so — the rock and stream just above the source is subject to massive injections of CO2, thus carbonating the water before it is bottled, but not exactly ‘naturally’. ‘Sparkling natural water’ like ‘Scottish smoked salmon’ does not mean the same as ‘natural sparkling water’ or ‘smoked Scottish salmon’. The Swiss have been using screw tops on their wines for many years. While it is true Swiss wine generally tastes pretty mediocre except when on the top of a mountain overlooking a lake, this is not because of the screw top. New World wines (especially South America and Australia) are becoming more and more screwy with no adverse effects. And, as I discovered at a recent wine-tasting with Anglo Hispano’s Wine Club, Chablis has joined in (Laroche, 2006, £16). Lovely stuff and proof, if it were needed, that a cork is an unnecessary adjunct. Further, it is much easier to stop up again (for not more than one, or possibly two, days). Morrison’s are pushing Australian Rosemounts (Merlots and Cabernets in particular) at about £6. Delicious, with rather a pretty bottle tapering to a square at the base which adds just as much enjoyment as a cork might. Anglo Hispano have an Argentinian Merlot at £8. We have yet to see a Chateau de Haut en Bas with a screw top but it cannot be long in coming. So if you had any bias against screw tops, forget it. The only disadvantage of a lack of corks in future will be the lack of an easy present, in the shape of a corkscrew, to give to a wine lover (and he or she will not miss it much). n
GIBRALTAR MAGAZINE • JUNE 2009