Habituation vs. evolution

[M_M_c_C_a_l_l]

There’s a point at the end of this. Please bear with me. As I worked a dollop of fruity-scented gel through my hair this morning, I reflected on the fact that I appreciate my nose’s ability to habituate to that cloying scent. I’d prefer the same gel in an unscented version, but alas, they don’t make one. By late morning, even if the wind blows my hair right in front of my face, I don’t smell my own gel at all.

Then there’s wine. I tend to pay a lot more attention to tasting notes that follow a wine over the course of an evening than to quick-shot notes from massive tastings. My reasoning is that the way I drink wine at home, evolution is always a factor. Steve and I open one bottle with dinner, and usually consume it slowly over 2-4 hours.

Tonight we’re having a couple of local wine geeks over to open several bottles, and it occurred to me that even twelve hours after I applied it, they will smell my gel. The scent will not even register to me, but will they pick up hints of apple in their Condrieu that are, in reality, wafting off my head?

This is where I get to the point: I know that air changes wine, but I wonder if, over the course of a typical dinner, habituation is a greater factor than evolution. When I open a bottle, I notice its dominant aroma-- let’s call it dark fruit. Then, after a couple of hours of air, more subtle aromas emerge. Let’s call them tea and sandalwood. If my friends show up at this point, what will they smell: dark fruit, or tea and sandalwood? In other words, how much of the change that I perceive is based on the wine opening up (i.e. chemical changes within the glass), and how much is attributable to my own habituation to its dominant aromas?

[Jack_Bulkin]

@Melissa M c C a l l

There’s a point at the end of this. Please bear with me. As I worked a dollop of fruity-scented gel through my hair this morning, I reflected on the fact that I appreciate my nose’s ability to habituate to that cloying scent. I’d prefer the same gel in an unscented version, but alas, they don’t make one. By late morning, even if the wind blows my hair right in front of my face, I don’t smell my own gel at all.

Then there’s wine. I tend to pay a lot more attention to tasting notes that follow a wine over the course of an evening than to quick-shot notes from massive tastings. My reasoning is that the way I drink wine at home, evolution is always a factor. Steve and I open one bottle with dinner, and usually consume it slowly over 2-4 hours.

Tonight we’re having a couple of local wine geeks over to open several bottles, and it occurred to me that even twelve hours after I applied it, they will smell my gel. The scent will not even register to me, but will they pick up hints of apple in their Condrieu that are, in reality, wafting off my head?

This is where I get to the point: I know that air changes wine, but I wonder if, over the course of a typical dinner, habituation is a greater factor than evolution. When I open a bottle, I notice its dominant aroma-- let’s call it dark fruit. Then, after a couple of hours of air, more subtle aromas emerge. Let’s call them tea and sandalwood. If my friends show up at this point, what will they smell: dark fruit, or tea and sandalwood? In other words, how much of the change that I perceive is based on the wine opening up (i.e. chemical changes within the glass), and how much is attributable to my own habituation to its dominant aromas?

Phew, Melissa I was afraid that you were going Ontogeny recapitulates Phylogeny on us.

[Keith_Levenberg]

That’s one of the ways food plays a key role - puts off habituation by interspersing contrasting sensations as you drink the wine.

[M_M_c_C_a_l_l]

@Jack Bulkin

Phew, Melissa I was afraid that you were going Ontogeny recapitulates Phylogeny on us.

You have quite a memory there, Jack! You know… for a codger with a tasteless and insensitive avatar.

[M_M_c_C_a_l_l]

@Keith Levenberg

That’s one of the ways food plays a key role - puts off habituation by interspersing contrasting sensations as you drink the wine.

Ah, now this is interesting. So is it fair to say we’re getting the least “accurate” picture of what’s actually in the glass if we linger over a wine, without a meal, for several hours?

[Ken_V]

In addition to the effect of the food, there is also the fact that you occasionally put the wine glass down, away from your nose. You can’t do that with your hair. (Or can you? )

I find when I’m sniffing a wine, if there is a subtle aroma that I have trouble identifying, I have to stop after a minute or so, and give my nose a rest. I think that habituation only lasts a few minutes away from the source. I think that also gives my memory more time to work, but that’s another issue.

[Keith_Levenberg]

@Melissa M c C a l l

Ah, now this is interesting. So is it fair to say we’re getting the least “accurate” picture of what’s actually in the glass if we linger over a wine, without a meal, for several hours?

I’m not totally comfortable with the concept of “accuracy” in something like this. I guess we can talk of accuracy when it comes to objective things like sweetness, but when it comes to elements that are more on the aesthetic side of things, you can only ask whether the context made it easier or harder to understand and appreciate the wine. Lingering for several hours over one thing without consuming anything else probably isn’t the worst context, but it doesn’t seem ideal either since you’ll eventually pass the points of satiation and boredom.

[Douglass_Smith]

It’s a very good question, Melissa, but I can’t believe that habituation plays a major role here. I think we all know the difference between wines that taste the same over a dinner and those that change markedly. Habituation plays a role in the former case only in making us bored. We continue to recognize the same tastes throughout.

If habituation always played a role, we would never expect a wine to taste the same through the entire dinner. Either it would change, or the taste would simply disappear. (As we became habituated to it).