We have all heard that the common wisdom states red wine should be served at room temperature.
“Common Wisdom” is what the masses are led to believe. You’d do well to keep in mind that it is common wisdom that elects our politicians, programs our television shows, and guilts us into driving a miserable Prius when we’d really rather be cruising along in a 1978 Aston-Martin V8 Vantage that sucks down gas like it was free RunRig. And don’t waste your time writing me to take umbrage and howl in derision in my apparent lack of environmental concern and correctness; I’m writing this from Malibu, California, where the good intentions – such as they are – are usually about as real as that perky little nose and those perky big boobs of the starlet sunning herself on the chaise lounge next to mine (was it Bambi? Tambi? Whatever. As long as she uses little hearts to dot the ‘i’ it’s okay).
But I digress…
The “room temp” adage was seemingly chanted often enough in unison by the British wine writers that the general public took it to heart. This was back around the time when wine stopped being just a beverage and started being seen as a collectible possession that signified a lifestyle. People needed rules and direction and (eventually) this devolved into rating wines by points, but that’s a different topic for a different time. In general, we’re talking about the decades of the 1950s and 1960s, and deep in my heart, I’ve gotta believe that the stuff about “room temperature” wine was NOT referring to Marananga, Malibu, or even Melbourne, but more likely what they had in mind was the room temperature of a castle in Scotland during fall (autumn).
While the cellar temperature of this representational castle in Scotland is probably around 50˚ Fahrenheit (10˚ Celsius), the room temperature is likely to be about 62˚-65˚ F (15˚ – 18˚ C), and while that’s cool-ish in terms of serving wine, you’re invariably going to be sitting in a warmer room in front of a fire, giving the wine the opportunity to come up to its optimal temperature. The aromatic components awaken while the edgy tannins and alcohol slumber on, and as the wine gets more air it melds together much better than it does if it were all cranky and out of sorts because it was too warmed. A cooler red wine is also a better accompaniment to food and is more refreshing and fun to drink than say, wine from a glass that seems to have steam emanating from it. We at Torbreck believe that once the swirling and spitting and analysis pageantry (i.e: geeking-out) over a bottle of wine has concluded, the fun (the drinking part) should really begin in earnest, and under optimal conditions.
Do yourself a favor: if the sommelier brings over a bottle of room temperature (non-Scotland category) red wine, ask for an ice bucket and chill that bottle down at least enough so that it can show its best for you. I’m nothing if not practical - I’ve been known to embarrass my wino friends at the table by dropping a small ice cube into my red wine glass at restaurants when their storage conditions aren’t exactly optimal (presuming that you consider tropical cellar temps inappropriate for fine wine). After being chided for my poor manners, I extend my pinky finger in the general direction of ice, my friends will pick up the hint and drop ice into their glasses, and lo and behold, the wine comes into balance, the planets come into alignment, and all is well with the world.
But wait, there’s more! We haven’t even touched on the topic of white wines! I’ll keep it short and sweet (dry?): WHITE WINE IS USUALLY SERVED TOO COLD FOR ITS OWN GOOD!! Yeah, maybe it’s thirst-quenching, but if that’s your goal, you’re probably better off drinking beer. The 60-65˚ (14˚ – 18˚ C) range is optimal for richer whites such as Viognier, Chardonnay/White Burgundy, and the Rhône varieties, although you might want to leave the bottle in the ice bucket just a little longer for our Woodcutter’s Semillon, an Eden Valley Riesling, an Austrian Grüner Veltliner, or other edgier white wines made from Sauvignon Blanc.
All wines have an ideal temperature where all of the elements come together. It’s a moving target for sure, with ambient temperature, concentration, alcohol level, and the food you’re eating all factoring into the equation. Fortunately, finding a wine’s temperature tipping point requires research. Perhaps if more people did such experimental research on their own, the tide would turn on this “common wisdom” nonsense. As it is, if common wisdom = lowest common denominator, it’s just getting in the way of enjoying wine, and that really gets my blood (if not my wine) boiling.