
I've written a lot about the connection between aroma and fine wine. My comments on
Aroma therapy notwithstanding, I'm a big believer in the idea that a great palate is impossible without a great sense of smell. I w

as reminded of this recently while rehashing high school days with an old buddy. We remembered a long-forgotten double date, and how we tried on six or seven colognes to make sure we were as attractive as possible. We applied a bit from each, and finally left the house with the cocky confidence of youth and an aroma ring that preceded us by at least 50 yards. I suppose it trailed us by an equal amount. Damn, we were cool.

After a nostril-searing event like that, one might doubt a nose could recover. But the human sense of smell is powerful and primeval and evocative. And impervious, apparently, to ersatz cologne cocktails.
But once he reminded me of that double-date night, my memory was vivid and instant - forgotten for decades until recalled in a flash of re-lived youth. Scents are like that - evoking visceral memories, an entire gestalt of experience that visual or aural stimuli simply can't. It's all about how our brains are wired.
Which brings me to the title of this posting - "Smellevision". It is from a case study in one of my college psychology classes - a study inspired by "
Smellevision (AKA Smell-O-Vision)" - a nearly century-old concept involving the addition of scent during the viewing of visual images in order to draw the viewer more deeply into the scene. An attempt to apply such technology in movie houses pre-dates the addition of sound. It is generating
renewed interest even as you read this.
But back to the study from my Psych class. It involved a test group - subjects who were told they were about to participate in a pilot study for a new product called Smellevision - and a control group who was told nothing. One by one, they each watched the same series of still photographs on a computer screen, each image suggestive of very strong aromas - a rose, onions, stale garbage, popcorn, dog poop on a shoe, etc.
The subjects who were told nothing had very little brainwave activity - similar to that of people watching television. But those who had been led to believe they were seeing the miracle of Smellevision exhibited such heightened brainwave activity that some of the subjects got violently ill and ran from the room. The study came to a sudden and premature end, having proved its point rather well.
So. If the SUGGESTION of scent can trigger such strong physical reactions based on our scent memories, is it any wonder we use smells as a marker for our own personal history? Most people can smell a certain cologne and suddenly remember a past lover. Or smell Mr. Bubble and remember Saturday bath nights. Or smell sweaty leather and recall their years in Little League, or wet hay and remember mucking stables, or...
In my case (and I suspect I'm not alone) I smell a wine and remember a great meal, or a favorite vacation, or great friends, or long ago sunsets.
Try This Wine Tasting Exercise
Here's a simple exercise I think you'll find illuminating. Hold your nose - and I mean hold it closed COMPLETELY with thumb and forefinger - and then take a sip of wine. Swallow the wine and continue holding your nose, breathing through your mouth if need be, and count to 30, then let go.
About 75% of the population (
super-tasters excepted) taste nothing, unable to tell even if the wine is red or white (assuming the glass is opaque, and the wine is at room temperature). If you're reading this at work, or without a glass of wine at hand, I know you
think you can imagine what this is like, but you really can't. I recommend experiencing it first hand.
Hey, it's a good excuse to open a bottle of wine tonight when you get home. As if you need one.
Cheers!
Dave Chambers, Wine Merchant
Quote of the Day:
No man can taste the fruits of autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of spring.
Samuel Johnson