A Case for Glass
Its common to celebrate the hero and forget those who were responsible for the protagonist’s portrayed success. In the world of wines it is no different – while we all go out of our way to talk about the stuff inside the bottle, few of us take a moment to think about the stuff that makes the bottle itself – glass.
Corks may get replaced by screw caps but few materials hold a similar scare for glass, the one material that has been used to contain wine since it’s early days. And not just wine, even the more heady range of spirits lie quietly and gently in this crystalline chamber.
And then, glass is also the material that we pour our wines into: it is from where we nose them, swirl and sip them, and savour them. So many varieties, so many designs, and yet so little space dedicated to their discussion. Today then, it’s all about the glass.
The very reason that wine comes in 750ml bottles is due to the glass industry. Back in the day, bottles were hand-made, blown by a glassmaker who used one lungful (OK two lungs-full) of air to shape each bottle. It was the first way of unknowingly standardising the product size. The capacity of the human lungs happens to be roughly between 600-720 cubic centimetre of air, which then explains why bottles were made to this odd specification. Today, the tradition continues of 750ml bottles, but now you know why.
As things progressed, the bottle was made in a furnace, with the top half shaped and cooled, and then fused into the bottom half just as it came out hot from the oven. The lower half would be supported on a stick (it was smouldering hot to handle) and the push pressure during the fusing created a concave dent at the base of the bottle, which later came to be known as the ‘punt’. No ‘distribution of pressure or collection of deposits’ property, no stacking ergonomics, no aesthetic reasons, just pure build mechanics.
Next, came the industrial revolution and brought us the possibility of assembly line manufacturing; bottles now came to be made with moulds, two halves still, but this time vertically. This is the style that continues unto today and if you were to examine a bottle anywhere today, you’d find two joints on either side of the bottle, running all the way down its length. Once again, ubiquitous and yet mysterious.
Which now leaves us to discuss glassware, the kind we drink out of.
Wine, as a beverage is constant. It means that all the compounds that impart it a certain flavour are pretty much fixed. They were there once the wine was made and have pretty much remained unchanged. Sure the wine will evolve but even when it does, the basic set of compounds and all the ongoing chemical reactions, no matter how numerous, are still finite. Even if a million compounds make up a do of wine, the number of entities is still a quantifiable one. So one can conclude that wine is a beverage which at any given point can be measured and metered. It may be tough but it isn't impossible.
The joy that one feels when drinking wine however is a different story; it is unlimited, unparalleled, and consistently variable. It depends on the wine but it relies equally heavily on a myriad mix of factors that influence our perception of it. And this perception, this tactile sensory intake, is where the drinking nay the enjoyment of wine becomes an infinite.
Glasses have a defined purpose: to deliver the drink to a certain part of our palates, in order to enhance the intended effect of the drink. For e.g. Martini glasses are wide in order to send the cocktail towards the sides of our tongue where we detect acidity. The enhanced crispness makes for a refreshing sip. Same reason why Champagne was initially served in coupes and not flutes (flutes are the worst glass for a Champagne, or any quality sparkling wine; a tulip is much preferable). Backtrack a century and a half and the Champagne glass was almost like a shot glass, as the drink was cloudy and heavy with sediment, so the trick was to pour it out into a glass, allow for the sediment to settle and then shoot it back taking care to leave behind the dregs containing the sediment in the glass.
The thinness of the glass is also a desirable quality as are the clarity and the transparency, and, to use a slightly technical term, their refractive index. Glassmaking is a science unto itself and companies dedicated to this form of art are specialised to the extent that they even evolve different shapes and sizes for different beverages and wine styles. My preferred brands are Zwiesel and Zalto although Riedel would seem to be the more popular alternative. Lucaris by Ocean and Chef & Sommelier series from Arc are other sturdy set sensibly priced options.
But is it justified to spend so much on glasses? Aren't we propagating the idea of ‘judging a book by its cover’? While this may be true to some extent, it is also important to remember that the pursuit of wine is a variable pleasure of a subjective nature and thus any stimulant, even if so only a placebo, is well worth the money one pays for it.
So that’s the glass story, or the summary of it; we haven’t even begun speaking of decanters! But glass has a history as important and as relevant as wine and whisky itself and, although it doesn’t seem like a lot, but for being a cradle that nurtures one of nature’s most precious gifts to mankind, it certainly deserves a mention and an applaud.
