Writing with wine

“In wine, there’s truth,” wrote Pliny the Elder of Greece in the first century CE. He also wrote that “The only certainty is that nothing is certain.” Both his conciseness and ambiguity are reflected in much of today’s writing about wine.

The Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET), a United Kingdom based charitable trust established more than two decades ago, includes an essay on their website titled, “How to become a wine writer.” In it they mention two ‘fundamental elements’ of wine writing— “…the general ability to write in a meaningful and engaging manner and a specialist’s knowledge and understanding of the subject at hand.”

Key words here are ‘engaging’ and ‘knowledge,’ because sometimes knowledge is not engaging.

Discussing wine can take two different routes – it can be based on undeniable facts (‘the wine was aged in new French oak barrels for a period of 12 months’), or it can be a product of personal perception (‘the scent of butter; pairs delightfully with salmon’). Wine analysis often integrates a mixture of concrete data and individual viewpoints.

Evaluation of red wine by a sommelier

Writing about irrefutable truths is usually a safe bet. Such details are often discovered on the official website of a wine manufacturer and should be comprehensible to anyone with a basic proficiency in viticulture. Nevertheless, merely enumerating facts may not always result in engaging prose.

Personal interpretations, on the other hand, can be a bit complex. The success or failure of the writing often hinges on these subjective components. The ultimate aim of a writer is to transmit their own sensory interpretations and emotional connections to the readers while they relish a glass of, say, Malbec.

Wine writing thoughtfully blends the objective truths and the subjective impressions, much like a film adaptation of true events that allows certain variations for the sake of captivation. The challenge lies in maintaining an engaging texture to the content without bogging the reader down with raw facts or perplexing them with over-the-top colorful depictions.

Writing with wine about wine

For instance, a recently published online review of a deep-bodied Italian red wine from Campania mentioned its appropriateness to pair with a steak. The description is plain and comprehensible—the wine lacks subtlety but makes up for it by delighting drinkers with its ability to stimulate salivation and thus, crave for wholesome food.

In another online review, a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon was described with terms like ‘lyrical’ and ‘silky’. The term ‘silky’ signifies something easy-to-drink as well as smooth and soft in texture. On the other hand, ‘lyrical’ is a more abstract term, suggestive of rhythm, possibly indicative of a harmony amongst elements like alcohol, acid, tannin, and fruit. This description, while being more poetic than literal, creates a certain allure, at the same time demands an active imagination on the part of the reader to fully grasp the concept.

A group of wine writers from the UK, US, and Ireland recently gathered in the Saint-Émilion region of Bordeaux, at Château de Ferrand, to engage in a discussion about their craft. This location was chosen due to its owners, Philippe Chandon-Moët and Pauline Bich (of BIC ballpoint pens), who have close ties with both the world of wine and the instrument widely used for writing globally.

Château de Ferrand, Saint-Émilion, Bordeaux, France

The main points from the discussion on wine writing are summarized below.

Topic:

Unique terms that only industry insiders in the wine business comprehend.

Chris Wilson, winemaker for Gutter & Stars winery based in Cambridge, U.K., also a contributor to Decanter and Harpers Wine & Spirits, mentioned, “Industry jargon—we get it. But it may intimidate the general audience; for instance, terms like èlevage. Realizing your audience is crucial—who are you writing for?”

Subject:

Ambiguous terms that may baffle the readers, yet could also weave a layer of enigma that keeps the audience captivated.

Examples of unclear descriptors were provided by workshop attendees. Tiffany Vernon, a copywriter for Corney & Barrow, brought up the term ‘backbone,’ while Lisse Garnett, who contributes to Wine Anorak and The Spectator, pointed out ‘minerality.’

Charles Geoghegan, a senior copywriter from Berry Bros and Rudd, highlighted the issue with vague descriptors like ‘masculine’. He voiced, “Such terms prove to be unhelpful. If someone uses terminology that others can’t comprehend, it’s pointless.” However, he acknowledged that functionality isn’t everything in writing, stating, “Creating something personal is possible, but the aim should be to engage the readers.”

Tiffany Vernon’s counterargument was: “Yet, you cannot make it overly personal when you are creating content for a business.”

The Chateau de Ferrand’s landscape, located in Saint-Emilion, Bordeaux, France

Hannah Crosbie, author of the upcoming book Corker, shared an important warning: “Utilizing personal experience can either attract an individual or completely isolate them.”

Adam Lechmere, co-organizer of the meeting and a travel writer who contributes to various wine publications, further mentioned that “Employing the term ‘masculine’ demonstrates lazy writing. It’s disrespectful to both the reader and the gender.”

Subject:

Long writing compared to short writing.

One participant expressed their frustration with ‘long indulgent writing’, stating that “In modern times, asserting your ideas in a concise manner is a must. Authors like Hugh Johnson exemplify this straightforward writing style.”

A contributor to myriad renowned magazines and newspapers stated, “Much of the long-form writing is overly detailed and self-satisfying. I advise my students to follow this simple rule – If you wouldn’t say it out loud, don’t write it. I tend to overwrite, then heavily edit and reduce.”

Lisse Garnett pointed out a plain reality that many authors won’t hesitate to write longer articles if they’re paid by the word.

A classic typewriter next to a glass of wine.

Topic:

Navigating the delicate balance of subjective inputs.

A participant in our discussion voiced, “We must remember that we’re part of the entertainment industry, operating in a somewhat eccentric field. So why not give it our all?” Another contributor suggested that writing about wine “is not serious in the first place, so why not derive pleasure from it?” while another expressed their belief that writing should “Preserve the enchantment – somewhat akin to the institution of monarchy.”

Lechmere pointed out that “The enjoyment of reading a wine tasting note isn’t confined to wine enthusiasts. It’s all about the pleasure derived from reading. When we utilize just the most basic words, the narrative becomes monotonous.” He further added that “Although writing necessitates substantial effort, it’s important to not let that effort become apparent.”

Writing holds the power to illuminate the minds of readers while simultaneously educating the writer. Gerald Asher, in his 2012 publication titled A Carafe of Red, illustrated this concept:

“I experienced the profound import of wine as a binding factor for virtually everything, when I commenced my journey of writing about it. My understanding deepened with my readings, travels, and inquisitive inquiries, dragging me into the extensive dimensions of history, economics, politics, literature, food, community, and all other elements dictating our lifestyles. Wine, I realized, permeates through everything and guides us everywhere.”