Foundational Questions in the Azores I: Peter Byrne on Hugh Everett and Many Worlds

So far, there hasn't been much physics in Wine, Physics, and Song---nor much song, for that matter, though there's been plenty of wine, and some economics and politics.  I guess wine is easier and more relaxing to write about.  But it's time to redress that balance.

I arrived in Ponta Delgada, the main town of the island of São Miguel in the Portuguese archipelago of the Azores, courtesy of the Foundational Questions Institute, to attend and speak at their second annual conference.  We were treated to dinner and an after-dinner talk.  (The wines, especially a white called  something like Tierra de Lavas that was served before dinner, were tasty.)  The talk was by Peter Byrne, who is writing a biography of Hugh Everett III, the originator (unless you want to ascribe it to Schrödinger in his cat paper) of what he called the "relative state" interpretation of quantum mechanics, often called the "many worlds interpretation" (MWI).  I was particularly interested in this talk because a fascination with the problem of how to interpret quantum theory is a large part of what got me into physics.  In 1989--1990 I wrote a paper (unpublished), "The Many-Worlds Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics: Psychological versus Physical Bases for the Multiplicity of "Worlds", arguing that Everett's interpretation had often been misunderstood as involving a "physical" splitting of the universe into different branches, whereas Everett was actually fairly clear that the "branching" into parts of the universe involving different outcomes of a quantum experiment was associated with different subspaces of a single Hilbert space of the world, subspaces defined by which of the different macroscopic outcomes of the experiment an observer had experienced.  So I was very interested to hear from Peter Byrne that among the boxes of Everett's paper that he has been sorting and studying, were drafts of Everett's thesis in which there is much more extensive discussion of splitting minds than was available even in the long version of his thesis published by Princeton.  If I'm reporting Byrne correctly, one of these drafts compares the splitting minds to splitting amoebas, noting there is no fact of the matter as to which of the amoebas is the original one.  The whole thing, he says, had much more extensive discussion of splitting, which his advisor John Wheeler made him take out (partly, if I understood correctly, because of negative comments by Bohr, relayed by Stern who was on Everett's thesis committee).   It will be interesting to see the details of these drafts, and find out more about how Everett understood this "splitting".

My early paper was to some extent a "devil's advocate" exercise---I did not then, and do not now, believe in Everett's interpretation in the sense that a macroscopically entangled wavefunction, describing me having all kinds of different conscious experiences, is a real entity.  But I did believe, and still do, that pushing Everett's idea as far as possible is one good way of getting a better understanding of what is weird about quantum theory, and of the unexpected difficulties we've encountered in figuring out what quantum physics has to tell us about the world, and our place in it.

My reasons for not accepting many worlds are in part tied up with the fact that there don't seem to be probabilities of measurement outcomes on this interpretation, as there are indeed not definite classical outcomes.  More on this later---it is something that I've been thinking about for years, and before Byrne's talk, I had a long discussion about it with Alan Guth at dinner.   But one last thing:  it was therefore striking to hear from Byrne that one of a myriad of titles Everett considered for his dissertation was "Wave mechanics without probability".

Baco Viejo 2008 Chardonnay DO Central Valley

This inexpensive Chilean Chardonnay, which I drank at my parents' in DC recently, seems like great value---I believe they paid around $6 for it, but I'm not sure.  Some nice aromas and flavors something like peach and vanilla,  a rounded, balanced, even somewhat elegant feel in the mouth---not high-acid, but not flabby (or lush).   No overbearing oakiness--an excellent food wine.  Very drinkable, and somewhat reminiscent of Sonoma County's Chateau St. Jean Chardonnays---even their higher-end Robert Young Vineyard ones, which also have that low-acid, vanilla thing though more prominently, and (at least in the Robert Youngs) often with a velvetiness this lacks.   But velvetiness would not necessarily be an improvement.  This is crisper, a summer quaffer of a chardonnay but still quite flavorful and holding one's interest through a a meal---maybe not seriously complex, but far from one-dimensional.  Yum!  This is "produced and bottled by Viñas Errazuriz Ovalle, SA San Ignacio 2170 Santiago, Chile", and imported by Monsieur Touton, NYC; alas, I can't find a price or distributor reference with a cursory Google.  I do find some entertaining snark at Le Cheap Lush concerning Monsieur Touton, though---to which this wine would seem to be a counterexample, unless I was just in a particularly good mood when I drank it.

Maverick "Above the Law" 2005 Barossa Valley Shiraz

2005 was a superb year, in surprisingly similar ways, in many of the most important winegrowing areas around the world.  California and South Australia certainly did well, and I'm told 2005 Bordeaux were excellent too.  (I haven't swilled enough of the latter to know without consulting my tasting notes...)  So I've gotten into a project of checking out Aussie Shiraz, especially from the Barossa and McClaren Vale...so many of them are just delicious, and some are truly great wines.  So I've just realized what others have probably known for more than a century...that this is one of the great grape/wine region combinations of the world.

What we may have here is a chance to benefit from the McCain campaign flameout last year... I don't know for sure that this wine was named and released with an eye to becoming the high-end swill of Republican conventioneers in St. Paul---indeed, perhaps the subtitle "Above the Law" was intended to underline the Obama campaign's theme ("more of the same").   But whatever the reason (the label actually say it's a tribute to the masive influx of immigrant mavericks to the Australian gold fields in 1851) for the too-cute name and the image of a Colt Navy Model 1851 pistol on the label of this puppy from Pure Love Wines, the wine hits the bullseye.

According to my tasting notes this is a full-bodied, pretty smooth wine with medium finegrained tannins, rich  blueberry and blackberry fruit, some spiciness or tarriness---one of the best "budget" Aussie Shirazes I've tasted yet.  Still excellent on the second day (after overnight refrigeration).  My wife liked it too.

I've only tasted one or two Aussie Shirazes this year that were better (a Two Dudes Gnarly Hands Two Hands Gnarly Dudes Shiraz) that I tasted at Vino Volo (BWI), which was sold out next time I passed through, at way more expensive, would be one; a 2005 Slipstream as well.)  This partakes of some of their complexity and tight structure, but is definitely not as full of smokiness, tarriness, and such.  In exchange, it veers toward lush, delicious fruitiness but without getting sloppy.

On further investigation the origin of the wine is described here.

The $15 price targeted is a great deal for this wine.  Major kudos to Pure Love's Jayson Woodbridge for this one, and I'll be on the lookout for its siblings at the same target price:  Barossa Jack, Desert Eagle, and Layer Cake.   What, no Community Organizer?  No matter, just buy this wine, get out your corkscrews, and drill... whoops, it has a Stelvin closure.  Unscrew, baby, unscrew!

Celler el Masroig 2007 Sol'a Fred

Had this wine last night with a casual dinner of posole and english-muffin pizzas prepared by a friend who's visiting from the East Coast.  Not sure how much I paid for it, but it seems to go for around $10 on the internet.  The wine is 90% Carinyenya (Carignan), 10% Garnacha (Grenache), from the Denominaco' d'Origen Montsant, in Catalunya.  I think I bought in on the basis of a shelf-slip quoting a Parker (or at least Wine Advocate---Parker's publication which now employs other tasters/reviewers as well) rave.  Was a little apprehensive given that Carignan-based wines are sometimes a bit rough and one-dimensional.  Carignan was at one time widely planted in the Southwest of France and Northern Spain for it's high production of simple country wines.  For awhile many producers in the Languedoc and southern France were grubbing up Carignan vines and replanting with grapes with more international appeal, like Cabernet and Syrah.  Some of the wines thus produced were good to excellent, but from my limited experience some were also just dark and inky but uncomplex, high in alcohol, and tiring to drink.  I'd guess there's been a bit of return to roots in the area as some growers try to make more traditional grapes like Carignan give the best wines they can.  Anyway, Celler el Masroig has certainly succeeded in doing that here: this really is a perfect pizza wine, with the blackberry fruitiness that Carignan has at its best, tannins relatively smooth, not rough, and in the background, with a sappy, relatively smooth feel in the mouth that's delicious, and can even handle the mild spice of a posole (traditional New Mexican hominy and chile-based stew, in this case a vegan version).  Not a Great Wine, perhaps, but that's not the point---nor would a Great Wine be as enjoyable with a casual meal like this.  I doubt you'll find a better Carignan anywhere, and at ten bucks the price is about right.

Sometimes a wine touted as a great pizza or barbecue wine, a relatively uncomplicated, easy-drinking red, can turn out to be just boring, a bit rough, or tiring---not necessarily the fault of the touter, it may just depend on the exact food pairing; they may have had it with something that somehow cut, or complemented, the tannin and let the flavor emerge.  I don't think you'll have that problem with this baby, though---if it can handle pizza and posole, it should go with just about any food you'd normally want to serve an uncomplicated, fruity, southern European wine with---like burgers, barbecue, or for that matter, a cheese (like the yummy Cotswold with chives that our friend brought along to end the meal with).

Cheers!

Howard

How to appreciate wine (gosh, a tough one), and Greatest Bottle #1

Since it's first in the title of the blog, I'll start out with a bit about wine.  Advice on how to appreciate it:

If it's yummy, drink it. If it's boring, cook with it. And don't forget to swirl and sniff!

Seriously, there are a lot of truisms you'll find in most good books on wine and wine-drinking---ones by Kermit Lynch, Robert Parker, Hugh Johnson, Jancis Robinson, and the lot, and most of them are true. Drink what YOU like. Share it with appreciative friends, when possible. (But don't be afraid to have a glass with some cheese and nuts if you're up late alone, or stuck on your own at a one-star restaurant in France, either...) Drink it with food, and give some thought to the pairing of wine and food. Consider two classic strategies for food/wine pairing: choose a wine with similar qualities to the food, that will harmonize with it (a velvety chardonnay with a soft, gently flavored white fish,like sole, for example, a fruitier, more acidic sauvignon blanc with a slightly fishier, firmer one like sea bass); or, choose a wine that will make a striking, though not clashing, foil to the dish. Don't be a slave to rules---if you like red with fish, drink it. If you like Lancers with something, drink it. When traveling, try the local wines, many of which will be much better when they haven't traveled far. (I've never had a really satisfying Loire red in the United States---what should be complexity and leafiness tends to become just a bit tannic and bitter, while the fruitiness never really takes wing---but I had three Bourgueils on a recent visit to France that were perfect with the dishes they accompanied, fresh, fruity, yet complex, some with leafy notes, or hints of coffee.) And---try aging the stuff when appropriate. It's a pain, it takes forethought, it can be a roll of the dice with wines whose ageworthiness has not been confirmed by decades (or centuries) of tradition, but it's worth it.

Above all, don't let a high price, or someone else's opinion, influence your taste unduly. If Parker thinks it's junk, but you like it, consider yourself lucky, and buy more: if he'd liked it, it probably would cost more. That doesn't mean Parker's an idiot, or a one-track fruit-and-tannin-bomb promoter as some would say; he tastes lots of wines, and will guide you to some stunningly good deals as well as some that may strike you as boring. (Okay, as boring fruit-and-tannin bombs, sometimes...).

With this in mind, I'll post an occasional series of notes on The Greatest Bottles I've Tasted, where greatest refers to the whole experience of drinking the wine, not to its abstract position in some hierarchy of the world's greatest wines. Such a hierarchy makes some sense, but it's far from the most important thing to keep in mind when enjoying wine. So, number one in my Greatest Wines Ever, is a plain old Cotes du Rhone whose name and vintage I've forgotten (it might have been something like Cuvee du Roi, but it was also one of the cheapest Cotes du Rhone around at the time). I drank it in Berkeley, in the mid or late eighties, while I was living in a bizarre one-person apartment on the south side, a few blocks Bay side of Telegraph. Bizarre because it consisted of a living/bed room into which the door from the landing opened directly, and beyond that, a small kitchen/dining area. (The bathroom, featuring a large claw-footed iron tub, was across the landing, though private, requiring a separate key for its deadbolt.) The area was classic student ghetto, with a pair of tennis shoes hanging from the phone lines out front whose possible significance escaped me at the time.

I drank this wine (not the whole bottle at once, of course), by myself, with nothing but bread and a country-style pate, medium-chunky, with embedded pistachios, and some decently chewy/flaky French bread whose source---Berkeley has a few---I forget. An absolutely perfect combination---the wine was devoid of complexity, medium-to-light-bodied, lowish in alcohol, only slightly if at all tannic, a bit on the watery side and tasting of nothing so much as grape koolaid. It was the perfect, slightly cool, fresh, grapy-tasting, thirst-slaking foil for the bread and pate. Probably there was also a hint of the typical Cotes-du-Rhone leafiness or smokiness---I don't recall with certainty, at this remove---but if so, it didn't overpower the freshness and fruitiness, though perhaps it added a little touch of complexity that nudged the whole experience into the category of Nirvana. This wine would be very unlikely to ever appear on anyone's list of the world's great wines, or even of the best Cotes du Rhone, but although I've had similarly memorable wine experiences with wines recognized as the world's greatest and most expensive, this experience was right up there with them. And that's what wine should be all about: enjoyable at the time, and maybe even providing a unique (because every bottling is different) and long-remembered experience....one of many vinous and non-vinous experiences that make up a life worth living.