Why does biodynamic quality resonate so strongly in the field of wine? One possible answer lies not only in the vineyard, but equally in the glass – in the way wine is perceived and experienced. This is the argument put forward by Christelle Pineau and Jean Foyer in their article “Tasting life and energy with the body”.
At the centre is the observation that biodynamic wines are often described during tastings as particularly “full of life”, and are convincing precisely because, in the world of wine, there is a well-developed culture of consciously valuing and taking such experiences seriously.
Tasting is not limited to flavour in the narrow sense. Alongside aromas and structure, the effect of a wine also plays a role – what wine experts refer to as the “second level”, that which lies behind taste but is not the effect of alcohol.
Those who taste frequently describe biodynamic wines as full of life, full of tension, or evolving. What is meant is not a single impression, but a dynamic. The wine does not appear as a static object with fixed properties, but rather as something that unfolds in the moment of drinking – as if it were releasing its energy, opening, changing, perhaps even showing a life of its own.
This perception involves the whole body. A wine can be experienced as clear or supportive, as enlivening or also heavy. Pineau and Foyer describe this as “resonance”, an interplay between the wine and the person tasting it. The body becomes a resonating space – including in what shows itself as mood, clarity, or invigoration. The impression of “vitality” does not arise from the product alone, but only through the interaction of product, taster, and attentiveness. The person tasting therefore plays a decisive part in the outcome.
The key thing is to learn this form of perception. Those who engage more deeply with wine develop a sensitivity for how a wine acts and what it triggers in their own sensation.
This is probably precisely where the close connection between wine and biodynamics lies. Both meet in a practice that takes this level of perception seriously. In the field of wine, the conditions for this are taken for granted: time, attentiveness, and the willingness to include one’s own sensation. Tasting here does not only mean to taste, but also to perceive how a wine unfolds and what sensation it triggers, how, thus, it speaks to the person tasting it.
In everyday life with food, things are different. Eating often happens in passing, under time pressure, without pausing. Attention is directed toward satiety or taste, rarely toward what a food does within our own sensation. With wine, it is natural to ask about its effect. With food, this question often seems unfamiliar.
Yet such qualities can also be perceived here. A dish can enliven or tend to calm, feel light or heavy. These differences can be experienced particularly clearly in direct comparison. A freshly prepared, aromatic dish can unfold a different quality than one that has been kept warm for a long time or is heavily processed. Even simple foods show this range. A carrot can feel full of life and stimulating, while another may seem flat and without noticeable resonance. The point is less about individual taste nuances and more about what a food triggers and leaves behind in our own sensation.
Such differences are rarely consciously noticed in everyday life – and even when they are, they are often not pursued further. This is where the actual shift lies. With wine, we trust our sensation. With food, we often replace it with thinking and knowledge.
As a result, it is often overlooked that this dimension of “vitality” is by no means limited to wine. Foods can also be experienced on this second level of perception, as coherent or empty, as supportive, strengthening, uplifting, clarifying, or dampening. Such experiences are present, but often remain without further attention.
In what is known as Empathic Food Tasting, a method for investigating the effects of foods on physical and emotional well-being, such experiences are consciously given attention and a language is sought to describe these phenomena more precisely. The focus is not on taste or aroma, but on the perceived effect of a food, how it presents itself in our own sensation. This form of description goes beyond classical sensory categories and may initially seem unfamiliar, but it connects with experiences many people know from everyday life. Empathic Food Tasting is a standardised method and is also suitable for scientific questions.
Effects induced by foods can be observed in concrete examples. Coffee, depending on its preparation and quality, can be experienced as clarifying and awakening, but also as making us nervous or restless. A similar pattern appears with bread: a traditionally made sourdough bread is often experienced as wholesome and sustaining, while highly processed, quickly produced bread is more often described as fleeting or not very satisfying. Here too, the focus is less on individual aromas and more on the quality a food unfolds in our own sensation.
In some contexts, such effects are also described with terms that may initially seem unusual, such as “uprighting”, clarifying, or balancing. What is meant is not a measurable quality, but an experience: a sense of presence, alertness, or inner stability that a food can evoke.
Milk is also experienced differently depending on its origin and processing. The same person may experience different milk products as rather heavy or as well tolerated and balancing. In the practice of nutritional counselling, such differences can be particularly observed. For example, patients who react to conventional milk with intolerances sometimes report better tolerance with biodynamically produced products. Such experiences are not always consciously reflected upon, but can become clear in controlled comparisons of symptoms.
Here, the field of wine is somewhat ahead – less in the product than in the practice. The people involved are practised in taking this perception seriously and have the language to be able to describe it at all.
In the tasting of foods, terms such as “full of life”, “clear”, or “coherent” still seem unusual. However, through shared description and comparison, they become more precise and more common. Against this background, the attractiveness of biodynamic foods can also be reconsidered. It is possible that their particular method of production gives rise to qualities in food that – similar to wine – appear especially coherent or “full of life” on this second level of perception.
The decisive question is what happens when this form of perception is actually transferred to everyday life with food.
What happens when it is applied consistently can be illustrated by a simple thought experiment: imagine someone eating a cheeseburger in a fast food restaurant in the same way an experienced wine taster drinks wine – slowly, attentively, with a pause after the first bite and an awareness of what remains afterwards. Then it becomes clear what a food actually does to us – and we come back into contact with what we truly want to eat.
References:
Christelle Pineau, Jean Foyer. Tasting life and energy with the body: the biodynamic resonance of wine. Senses and Society, 2024, 10.1080/17458927.2023.2284536. halshs-04391805
https://www.wirksensorik.de/de
https://www.ehrlichessenmethode.de/
