a flask of wine

A couple of people have suggested I should write a post about wine. Well, perhaps not about wine – I’m no expert and am happy with the vino honesto and no muy peleón that I can get in the local supermarket for 0.99€ a bottle – but about the language that is used to talk about it, particularly on wine labels.

I think it might have been Miles Kington (there’s an archive of his Independent column here) who said that if you were at a loss for words at a wine tasting, just look around the room and describe one of the other people present: big nose, full-bodied, fruity…

The same kind of flowery language is used here in Spain, so it came as no suprise when a friend told me the label on the Spanish wine he was drinking described it as:

“Uvas Tempranillo. Vino color cereza granate, aroma afrutado, es un vino de entrada en boca amplio, carnoso y persistente.”

The English version of the label made no mention of the wine making a big entrance in the mouth, nor its carnality and persistence, which is a shame. Instead it said:

“A medium-bodied, youthful red produced exclusively from selected Tempranillo grapes, Spain’s premier red grape variety. Modern winemaking techniques give a supple, rounded style with fresh, berry fruit characters.”

To my ear, that definitely lost something in translation.

The photo shows the label from a wine bought in the UK, and reassuringly labelled as “vegetarian”. It’s a French wine, this time, with the text only in English:

“A full bodied wine with brambley fruits and notes of spice.”

Hmm. “Brambley fruits” sounds like the setting for a children’s book. Presumably featuring those “berry fruit characters” from the Spanish wine.

As for “notes of spice”, well that, presumably, makes it “what you want, what you really, really want.”