Are wine descriptions confusing? Learn to redefine wine talk, moving beyond obscure aromas to relatable emotions and shared experiences. Make wine approachable for everyone!

Wine descriptions are often a puzzle, not an invitation. We need to make them more approachable, and I learned this lesson years ago from the Maître at a restaurant where I worked. After service, while we fittingly sipped Chablis, we discussed selling wine.

 “Don’t tell the customers what you smell in the wine”, he said. “They might not get it.” Instead, he urged me to describe why a wine was a good choice for specific dishes (acidity cuts the fat, it’s strong enough to withstand the sauce, that kind of stuff). He ended with a phrase that’s stayed with me ever since:

“If you grew up in a peach farm, you’ll always smell them in the wine, but if you’ve never seen guava, how the heck[i] are you supposed to find it in your wine?”

That thought stuck with me, and it has evolved since. Wine descriptions should go beyond aromas.

Why Do We Use Aromas to Describe Wine?

It’s simple: Each grape varietal (like Merlot or Sauvignon Blanc) has a unique chemical makeup. Combined with winemaking methods, this creates a distinct set of aromas in the bottled wine.

So, we use aromas to describe wines because a distinct set of them differentiates one wine from another. For example, if you’re smelling a red wine, notes of black pepper, licorice, and some spices can be a giveaway that you’re tasting Syrah.

But is any of that truly useful for us, the casual wine drinkers? Most of us can easily identify citrus notes in fresh whites or red and black fruit in reds. Those are the simple ones. Do we really need to learn the rest?

Wine Descriptions Should Go Beyond Aromas

While aromas are fine, some can be incredibly confusing. I mean, you get wine that smells like petrol[ii]? What? And what even is petrichor[iii], right? Wine typically contains hundreds of aromatic compounds, yet your average Joe usually only identifies about four of them.

Furthermore, as much fun as blind tastings can be, they’re not common. When you’re buying wine, whether in a restaurant or a store, you likely need more helpful wine descriptions than “it smells like jalapeño, fresh cut grass, or bubblegum” (yes, those are real wine notes).

We should describe wine based on feel instead. Let me tell you what I mean by exploring music. A proposal, though flawed, I’m afraid.

Using Music to Describe Wine

We humans connect easily with music. It makes us want to dance, tugs at our nostalgic heartstrings, and has the power to make us cry or smile. It helps us fall in love and sets a particular mood. Comparing wine to music seems like a no-brainer, doesn’t it?

A fun, fresh, crisp wine easily compares to a crowd-pleasing pop song. And surely an elegant and complex aged red has a musical counterpoint. Describing wine by using music makes it more approachable.

Except for cultural and/or generational gaps.

I’d love to recommend a Garnacha to you by saying “this wine is like listening to Walk of Life by Dire Straits: upbeat, a little cheeky, and makes you want to tap your foot.” I think that matches perfectly with the playful, easygoing charm of some Chilean Garnachas. I mean Walk of Life was a global hit when it came out… but that was 40 years ago.

I want to create a connection with a wine by using music’s emotional prowess, but if you don’t listen to your dad’s music, find the 80s lame, or maybe the perfect musical match is a song that was never popular in your country, then I will completely miss the mark. I hate to admit it, but my approach is flawed.

Finding The Emotional String in Wine Descriptions

Man, I desperately wanted music to work! But I still believe vibe and emotions are the key. But I need to look for other, more universal, shared human experiences. What do you say? Let’s give it a go!

Using Weather and The Seasons for Wine Descriptions

You know that feeling of a golden hour stroll, stepping on dry leaves, feeling the crisp early autumn wind on your face? That’s Garnacha! And Cabernet Sauvignon[iv]? That’s the deep, comforting warmth of staying inside, maybe in front of a fireplace, while rain gently taps your window during a winter’s evening.

Even if you don’t have cold, rainy winters or autumns with falling leaves[v], you can likely relate to the general vibe and mood I’m conveying here, right? Climate acts as a powerful emotional trigger, much like music.

Using Everyday Moments to Describe Wine

Pinot Noir is like catching up with a good friend you haven’t seen in a while. Imagine that meaningful conversation and the warmth it creates inside you. Now, pour that feeling into a glass.

An Albariño from Rias Baixas[vi] feels like a barefoot walk oceanside, and a Rhône blend[vii] is like a cozy singalong around a campfire.

Again, most of us can relate with those situations. I mean, maybe you’re not familiar with campfire singalongs, but I’m sure you can relate with the aroma of burning wood and the joy of singing familiar tunes.

Identically, we can identify with the feeling of removing our shoes after a long day at work or tuning in to your favorite guilty pleasure TV show. Both good descriptions for Merlot[viii].

The Last Drop

Listen, I know aromas are considered the best wine descriptions. They’re accurate (even if we can’t discern them all) and generally easy to understand. They’re the standard for a reason! Yet, I believe aromas are insufficient when recommending a wine. Let’s be real: normal people don’t truly care if the wine smells of yellow or white stone fruit. They—we—care about it tasting good.

Tugging at emotional strings is a far better way to make wine relatable. And I get it; this method isn’t as precise as aromas. I don’t know what music you like or if you enjoy walking on the beach. But I do believe in shared human experiences that most people will find pleasant.

It’s time to shake up how we talk about wine. Let’s move beyond memorizing obscure aromas that only a few can decipher and embrace wine descriptions that speak to the heart and common experience. Imagine a world where wine isn’t intimidating, but an open invitation—where a sip transports you to a cherished memory or a desired feeling. Join me in uncorking a new language for wine, one that connects, inspires, and truly celebrates the universal pleasure in every glass.

---

Footnotes

[i] I’m taking the liberty of changing the actual four-letter word he used.

[ii] You can often find it in aged Riesling.

[iii] This is the aroma that comes out as rain falls over dry soil.

[iv] I’m generalizing. There are many styles of each of those grapes based on terroir and winemaking techniques, though some similarities in vibe will be present.

[v] For example, if you live in the tropics.

[vi] In Galicia, northern Spain.

[vii] A red combo of Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvedre, also known as a GSM blend.

[viii] The first wine description fits with a right bank Bordeaux, while the second one with whatever Miles Raymond refused to drink in the movie Sideways.

---

Cover Image: Should we be using music to describe wine? Photo by Sude Naz Özgür.