Wine words: Are they useful or just a load of old nonsense?
Yes, it helps to swirl, sniff, and swoosh it around your mouth, writes Rosamund Hall – but beyond that, it should be a free-for-all of vinous pleasure
If there is one thing that wine people are often accused of, it’s the use of overly florid and, frankly, over-the-top language when it comes to talking about wine. I get it.
There is often a presumed level of understanding when it comes to wine writing, and I question myself on it on a weekly basis, to make sure that I keep things concise and, most of all, useful.
Wine people (who can be notoriously snooty about these matters) can turn in on themselves if someone is perceived as being too outré in their descriptions. Was that even too outré of me...? After all, one person’s petrichor is someone else’s smell of rain on dry stone.
Why does it matter how you describe a wine, anyway? Wine is about people, places, the experience of drinking it and the stories that it tells – it definitely isn’t the preserve of wine people describing the colour, body and intensity of it. It all might leave you wondering if any of it is even relevant.
And this is where I feel torn. On the one hand, I want us all to feel free and liberated to enjoy what we want, when we want. But equally, I want to share my love and passion about the vast layers and joy that lie within wine – so that, unfortunately, means describing it in some way.
It might be useful to know that I taste wine in an incredibly meticulous, almost scientific way. I have a mental list that I’m ticking off in my head as I sniff, swirl and spit. And I’m completely driven to be as objective as I can be about a product whose appeal is, by its very nature, entirely subject to opinion.
I hope I’m trusted for the fact that not only have I spent a good many years in my wine career actually selling wine (something few wine critics have actually done), but I have also tasted tens upon tens of thousands of wines spanning nearly every style and price point available.
It matters little what I drink at home, as my ambition is simple: to recommend the best-value wines, whether that’s a five- or a fifty-pound bottle. As for how I chat about wine? Well, it’s far more likely that I’ll talk about wine in terms of emotion and experience: as with life, that is what it’s really all about.
I remember a customer and friend (Tina, you are so missed), coming into the shop and bar I owned some years ago asking for a wine that tasted like “bacon Frazzles” – yes, you’d only get this reference if you grew up in the UK, but I knew instantly what she meant. That’s what I love about wine conversations: they can be so meandering and open, wine weaving in between chats about love and friendship. (If you were wondering, I recommended a fat, earthy grenache from a Spanish producer whose wines were always on the more farmyard end of the spectrum.)
Had I written “tastes like bacon Frazzles” in my tasting notes during my wine diploma exam, I would’ve failed. Back in the real world, it’s vital to remember that there’s no wrong or right way to taste wine. Yes, it helps to swirl, sniff, and swoosh it around your mouth, but beyond that, it should be a free-for-all of vinous pleasure.
And as for wine descriptions, I’m sure it’ll remain a fuzzy, much-debated area that I’ll continue to wrangle with personally. In the meantime, however, here’s a tiny compendium of some commonly used wine words – and what they might actually mean.
‘Fruit-forward’
Wine people chat about fruit in wine a lot. (Note: there is no fruit other than grapes in wine.) Regardless of whether it’s a light or a full-bodied style of wine, dry or sweet, identifying the fruit level of a wine is a good place to start.
If a wine is said to be “fruit-forward”, then those fruit flavours are dominant – think of fresh citrus fruits, or orchard fruits like pears, apricots and peaches, for whites. For reds, it might be up-front juicy cherries or ripe strawberries, blueberries and blackcurrants. I like to think of fruit-forward wines as ones that burst with fruit, and little else.
Spliced riesling, Forage Supply Co, Eden Valley, Australia, 2022
Available at The Wine Society: £19, 12% ABV

Slice open a lime, squeeze the juice, and drink. This bright, high-acid, Australian riesling is all about primary fruit-forward flavours. Simply chill down and serve poolside (even if it’s imaginary) when in need of instant refreshment.
‘Mineral’
This is a divisive word in wine, as really, it doesn’t mean anything at all – but you do see it on the back of wine labels.
For me, minerality is always used to describe a white wine that isn’t dominated by those primary fruit flavours. The acid is generally higher (I’ll save the topic of acid for another day), and there are characteristics that are more savoury – you might imagine it as though you were licking a stone, or a piece of chalk, or strangely, steel.
Yes, granted, this is something that you’re not likely to actually do, but it’s a useful metaphor. Classic “mineral” wines include chablis, albarino and sancerre.
Waitrose No 1 albarino, La Val, Spain, 2023
Available at Waitrose: £14, 12.5% ABV

Albarino definitely displays those mineral characteristics alongside a fresh citrus kick. I love this example from a high-quality producer based in northwestern Spain – think bracing steeliness, licks of the salty ocean, and a fresh-cut citrus and spring blossom note, too.
‘Crowd pleaser’
The quaffing wines: juicy and very laidback, and easy to drink without much complication or thought. These are wines that have a broad appeal, and don’t require much from the drinker. While some folk might belittle this style of wine, I think it’s a hard style to master well, and my quest to find them continues. Some of my favourite crowd-pleasing reds come from the southern Rhône.
Beachfront Washington State merlot, USA, 2022
Available at Aldi (in-store only): £9.99, 14 % ABV

Merlot is much maligned, and I just don’t think it’s fair. In this example from the premium region of Washington State on the west coast of America, merlot is showing itself off in all its plummy, crowd-pleasing glory. It has punnetloads of ripe, fleshy plums and dark cherries, delivering a plush, easygoing wine that definitely has broad appeal.
‘Savoury’
Think of the opposite of fruit-forward and you find yourself in the land of savoury wines. These are wines that remind you of walking through a forest in autumn, sharpening your pencil in primary school in the “big sharpener”, and woodsmoke from an open fire.
If there’s fruit present, it’s more savoury, so think of tart blackcurrants, or uncooked cranberries. Savoury wines tend to be aged, so the primary fruit-forward aromas have evolved into this next layer.
Couronne de Belgrave, Haut Mḗdoc, Bordeaux, France, 2017
Available at Sainsbury’s: £15, 12.5% ABV

I love bordeaux (again, I’ll explain why you should too another time). It has something to do with the range of styles and absolute value that can be found. But, I digress...
This wine delivers heaps of those classic “savoury” notes – think of deep leaf litter on the ground, the smell of a woodburning stove, some cloves and cinnamon, and deeply concentrated blackcurrants. One for a Sunday roast that lasts into the evening with a table full of friends, chatting for hours.
Rosamund Hall (DipWSET) is a freelance writer, presenter and columnist specialising in wine and spirits as well as travel and lifestyle
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments