Uncorked – Nov 23

“I’m getting wet foxes in the undergrowth.”  The comment, made by a man with his nose deep inside a mature Pinot Noir from Burgundy during a tasting I was leading, elicited several sniggers from his fellow tasters, but you knew exactly what he meant.  The earthy, gamey, vegetal aroma is absolutely typical of the grape and the region, and he had encapsulated it in five well-chosen words.

The fact that his accurate, if somewhat poetic description had caused some mirth highlights the difficulty in describing the smells and tastes of a wine adequately in mere words. 

Many of us of a certain age remember well the flowery descriptors used by early TV wine expert Jilly Goulden, who introduced phrases such as ‘pencil-shavings’ into the wine taster’s lexicon.  She too was much mocked for her expansive wine vocabulary.

I am often asked by inexperienced tasters why such language is necessary.  Surely, they reason, a drink which is made entirely from fermented grape juice will smell, and taste, of grapes?  It is one of the mysteries of the wine world that in fact there is only one out of the thousands of grape varieties which produces a wine which belies its origin in this way: Muscat.

It is important to be able to describe what we are tasting (and more importantly, smelling).  With an almost infinitesimal combination of grapes, terroirs, wine-making techniques, vintages and so on, every wine is different.  If we are to understand what it is about certain wines that appeals to our individual tastes, we have to try and articulate those differences.

This is why smell is so important – we can only taste four/five things (sweet, sour, salt and bitter, plus the elusive umami), whereas our noses are much more discerning, able to make out thousands of difference nuances of aroma.

Broadly, the ‘nose’ of a wine will fall into four categories: fruit, floral, spice and vegetal.  But within each category there are many sub-divisions.  For example, if it’s fruit you are getting, is it citrus, or berries, or apple, or tropical?  And a well-made wine will be complex, with elements of more than one category on the nose.  If you can fathom out what you are smelling, you can start to make connections with other wines, widening your net and enjoying a greater variety as you go.

Even if your vocabulary doesn’t quite stretch to wet foxes in the undergrowth, I would urge you to try and find the right words to describe what you are tasting, and to make notes as you go.  This forces you to concentrate, and to delve more deeply into the complexity of the wine – and it is doing this that you will gain the most enjoyment from the glass, which should be what it’s all about.

Of course, the language of wine can veer into the pretentious, or even the plain ridiculous.  I once heard someone describe a wine as smelling of ‘left-handed woodlouse’.  I think he was poking fun at a fellow taster’s exuberant descriptions (it was quite late on in the tasting), but you can never be sure.

UVC Chablis, 2021, (£16, Sainsbury’s)

The Union des Viticultueurs de Chablis brings together nearly 300 winegrowers from the region in one of the region’s largest co-operatives.  This is a decent typical Chablis, combining a rich, flinty minerality with tart green apple, citrus and slightly earthy notes.  Good value.

Villa Borghetti Valpolicella Ripasso, 2021 (£12.99 as part of a mixed case of six bottles, Majestic)

Ripasso is the way to get some of the richness of Amarone without breaking the bank.  They ‘pass’ the wine over the leftover grape skins from the Amarone wines, turning standard light Valpolicella into a supple, full-bodied wine with notes of Morello cherries, blueberries, liquorice and chocolate.