I ordered a shot of George T. Stagg's fiery Hazmat III in Shot Bar Bourbon, a tiny subterranean bourbon paradise in Ginza, and the bartender served it in a wine glass. I asked why. "For the flavor," he said, and to demonstrate, he tipped my drink into a shot glass. The bourbon lost its aroma and half of its taste. It wasn't a subtle change; it was a character-killing transformation.
That's how I became obsessed with glass shapes. I began asking bartenders to explain their choice of vessel, and found that many could. When I drank at home, I'd pour from shot glass to snifter to old-fashioned to Burgundy, then bore people stiff with my findings.
I went to Riedel, the 250-year-old Austrian glassmaker that pioneered grape-varietal specific glassware, and asked whether their 140-strong suite of stemware was grounded in science or a desire to sell us 20 glasses when we really only need two.