How to Read A Wine List
a practical guide to understanding the impractical
On an evening in late November, I’m perched at a wine bar in the Marais when an American couple comes and sits down to my left. They are around my age and evidently on holiday. She is wearing a bow in her hair and carrying a bag from the bakery around the corner. He is layered in a flannel shirt and they speak to one another in a low and gentle English. I am sipping on a glass of Cabernet Franc, poured for me by a woman named Elena, whose establishment I’ve come to.
I met Elena back in April, when I drifted into her bar by accident on my very first night in Paris. I was staying at a hostel in the neighborhood for a few days before my apartment in Burgundy was ready. Les Amoureuses, as the wine bar is called, translates in French to “lovers”, but it also refers to an appellation in the Côte de Nuits–in Burgundy’s northernmost half–known for its wonderful Premier Cru wines. Elena used to run tours in and around that area before opening her spot in Paris. So when I told her I’d be living nearby for the next few months in Côte Chalonnaise just south of Les Amoureuses, she was quick to offer suggestions of people I should talk to and places I should go during my stay. It’s easy to see now the way this conversation was the true beginning of things in the way zero can be true, absent of everything, containing nothing but the potential for infinities. Of everything I would come to learn in the months since I met Elena, nothing was more valuable than that early lesson in the power of admitting to the things I don’t know.
The Cab Franc I’m drinking now is from the Loire Valley. A producer I’ve never heard of, Domaine de Frogeres. 2021. Pepper and plum as it hits the back of my throat, leaving in its wake a dry feeling on my tongue, like the kind you get from eating an unripe banana. When I arrived in France in April, I would have told you I didn't like Cab Franc. But that was a while ago now, and so much has changed and I’ve actually come to love many of the Cab Francs I’ve tried, love the way they taste of fruit and earth and leather in the way I’ve always imagined humility to taste, like the soles of worn shoes.
In the time it takes for me to finish my glass of wine and the œuf mayonnaise I’ve ordered, the American couple has moved closer together, huddling over the wine list that he holds as if it were the flame of a small fire meant to keep them warm. He flips pages two and three back and forth–the reds–examining both sides without really reading any of their words. From experience, men are always the first to pick up a wine list. Some reflexive display of masculinity, like holding a woman back from oncoming traffic. The kind of romantic gesture that they once called chivalry, and which they now call, “falling in love over the second most expensive bottle.” Because there are many misconceptions about ordering from a wine list but among the worst is that doing so requires strength and courage. When in reality, ordering wine is actually an act of surrender.
Another misconception about ordering a bottle of wine is that any decision made is a decision of the self, of the individual. Wine, its process, its production, is decidedly communal. To think you're choosing a bottle of wine on your own is to delude yourself of all of the hands through which that bottle has already passed. Even when I’m dining alone, I take some comfort in knowing that the wine I drink is poured from a bottle that will inevitably be shared among strangers. As it is, I find myself often drawn to strangers; to the idea of them, to their objectivity, their possibility. I love asking them questions about their lives over a dessert we’ve agreed to share, or a glass of wine we've both been recommended. I love knowing what book they're reading or where they’re from and why they've ended up here, in the same space I find myself.
Some time passes and the American couple still hasn’t ordered anything. They shift a bit awkwardly in their seats and there is a sort of frantic energy that strains the whisper at which they are still trying to speak. Finally, I lean over and ask if they need any help. If they have any questions. Elena, I offer, is kind and knowledgeable. Their sheepishness turns quickly to relief, whether from the offer itself or from the realization that I, too, was American and that they could answer freely in English. But wine is fickle that way; evading so much of our natural speech. Even across our shared native tongue, there are so many ways our vocabulary is ill-equipped to convey our considerations around wine.
So instead we talk about how they’re college sweethearts and that they now live together in a small city close to their alma mater. He’s a teacher at a local high school. Their first time in Paris together, one stop on a longer trip. Amsterdam next. I’ve never been there, I tell them. It’s school break for the American holiday, a perfect time to take a vacation. And suddenly I realize I’ve completely forgotten that tomorrow is Thanksgiving. From where I sit, it is almost impossible to imagine everyone back home hunkered down in anticipation for tomorrow’s holiday. Paris is as lively as it always is and Les Amoureuses is crowded with people meeting for an after work drink. At the front by the large, glossy window, two women sit opposite one another and I imagine that to passersby, they look like something out of a Hopper painting, the sun setting on the city as they sip from near empty glasses.
The American couple tells me they have an interest in wines from Bordeaux. They tell me they had a bottle last night at a restaurant nearby although they can’t remember what it was called. Wine is fickle like that too, the way it so easily slips through the cracks of memory. So I ask them what they liked about it. There are a million ways to order a bottle of wine. Identifying it by name or label is just one. It’s just as easy to find something you like when you focus instead on the qualities of wine that you gravitate towards. In time, I’ve done away completely in my own life with the rhetoric of “like” and “dislike” in wine. I find it too finite, too futile and too unforgiving. When the reality of wine is that it’s meant to be the opposite. In fact that’s what I love about wine. The way it holds endless possibility.
Elena returns from opening another bottle for the large party that gathers in the back and I introduce her to the couple. Fill her in on what we’ve been talking about. And she takes it from there, like the delicate transfer of a baton on the second lap of a relay. I turn back to the book I’m reading and the second glass of wine I’m drinking, an orange wine from Alsace and tune out the world around me, pulled into the world of wine and literature like being pulled out to sea.
And I do think that the world of wine can often feel like setting out into open waters. It’s endlessly vast. The more I learn about wine the more I learn how little I know. But there are certain things, I’m finding, that are crucial for helping me to navigate wine–its vocabulary, its immensity–with increased ease. Life rafts, if you will. The following is my practical guide for where to begin in understanding—and ordering—wine, keeping in mind the fact that is truly is just one place to start, and that there is, perhaps, no end.
HOW TO READ A WINE LIST
Elements of Wine To Know (from most general to most granular)
Color
Grape
Region
Producer
Vintage
On Color: Every wine list I have ever encountered is organized first by color. If there is a section marked “skin-contact” this means the wine is orange. It’s very hard to pick a wine on color alone, but breaking a wine list up in this way is incredibly useful for orienting yourself as you look through the list.
Red wines: red grapes fermented with the grape skins on (skin contact)
Rosés: red grapes fermented with little-to-no skin contact; alternatively, red and white wine that’s been blended
Orange wine (skin contact): white grapes fermented with skin contact
White wine: white grapes fermented with no skin contact
*The skins of grapes are a primary source of a wine's tannins—an aspect of a wine’s texture—and depth of color
On Wine Grapes: There are over 10,000 different kinds grapes that give us wine; which is to say, no one expects you to know them all. You can understand a lot about a wine based on the grape from which it’s made. But knowing how to identify where the grapes are written on a wine list is arguably more important than knowing what the name of each grape means.
Not always, but often the grapes will be listed next to, after, underneath, or somewhere around, the name of the wine.
If the name of the grape is not listed, this requires you to use the context of the name of the wine and where it’s from to fill in the gaps. For example, if the wine is simply red and from Burgundy, it’s most likely Pinot Noir. If it’s a Sancerre, this is the region it’s from and the grape will always be Sauvignon Blanc. Don’t panic. Ask for help if you need it.
There are certain grapes that show up on almost every wine list and looking for these will, at the very least, help you to differentiate the words on the page.
the name of the grape here is listed below the name of the wine and italicized Most common grapes to look for:
Reds: Pinot Noir, Sangiovese, Merlot, Cab Franc, Syrah, Grenache
Whites: Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling, Chenin Blanc
A note on choosing a wine based on the grape: It is helpful to know some grapes you like. But the same grapes from different parts of the world will give you very different tasting wines. So I encourage you not to rule out a wine based on the grape. Mostly, here, I’m talking about Chardonnay. Chardonnay from the U.S. is VERY different from wine of the same grape produced in Europe. The former is often buttery and rich, the latter is bright and acidic and wonderful. Worth giving a chance, I promise.
On Region: The region of a wine—also known as terroir—gives us perhaps the most information about a wine. Whether it will be acidic or creamy, whether it will be mineral driven, salty, ashy or herbaceous, if it will have notes of cherry or plum, if it will be bright or round, zippy or warm. The region can be identified anywhere from it’s broadest point of discernment to the single village in which a wine is grown. Many wine lists that are first divided by color are second broken up by country and then region or perhaps subregion—often referred to as appellation. Knowing some general wine regions is unbelievably useful for finding a wine you like. For developing a particular taste in wine, ask your server or sommelier about the region of the wines you like and start taking note.
Common wine regions to know
France: Burgundy, Alsace, Beaujolais, Loire, Jura, Savoie, Bordeaux, Languedoc, Roussillon, Provence, Champagne, Chablis, Rhône
Italy: Tuscany, Sicily, Veneto, Trentino, Umbria, Emilia-Romagna, Piedmont, Lombardia
Spain: Catalonia, Penedès, Rioja, Priorate, Cava, Galicia, Andalucía
Germany: Mosel, Pfalz, Rheinhessen, Nahe
Eastern Europe: Croatia, Hungary, Bulgaria, Austria, Slovenia, Slovakia
United States: Sonoma, Napa Valley, Willamette Valley, Paso Robles, Finger Lakes, Temecula
Other: Colchagua Valley, Chile; Mendoza, Argentina; Swartland, South Africa; South Adelaide and Yarra Valley, Australia; Mallorca; Canary Islands
menu from rude mouth, bk On Producers: A person’s predilection for a particular wine most likely comes down to their predilection for a certain producer; the name of which is always noted on a wine list, usually at the beginning. Sometimes it’s the name of a single winemaker, and sometimes it’s the name of their estate. Either way, this is the way a wine is most easily identified. It’s a sommelier’s job to know the styles and tendencies of various producers, so that they can tell you the general quality to expect—if the wines will be funky or clean, experimental or classic, high or low ABV. You don’t need to know, have tried, or have even heard of, a specific winemaker to enjoy their wines. But if you start paying attention, you’ll see that a lot of names come up on lists everywhere.
On Vintages: For the sake of ordering from modern wine lists, it’s easiest and totally acceptable to overlook the vintage. On the other hand, it’s true that the exact same wine from the exact same producer will taste almost entirely different year-over-year based on weather, rain, date of harvest, methods in winemaking, temperature and duration of aging. Most of the time, wines by the glass will be poured from recent vintages. Wines with more age go up in price and often reserved for bottle lists. Critics have often claimed many different vintages to be “the best of the century,” which is to say favoring a wine based on year is largely subjective. It’s worth trying wines from the same region from different years to taste the difference, but knowing which vintage to order for the sake of this exercise is a extraneous.
One thing to note: NV stands for non-vintage which means that the wine is simply a blend of juice produced and reserved from different years. This applies most often to Champagne or sparkling wines, but can be true for still wines as well.
On Price: It is 100% valid to pick a wine based on price, but it’s best not to pick a wine on price alone. If you’re looking at a bottle list, pick a price range that you’re comfortable with and when you ask for recommendations, make your sommelier aware of this range. For wines by the glass, ask for two or three suggestions that match your taste and then go with the one that fits your budget.
IN CONCLUSION
Choose the color wine you want
Pick the range of cost your comfortable with and keep this in mind for later
Understand the Layout. Figure out how the wine list is organized. Differentiate between grape variety and region and know where to look for each.
Decide which grape or region you are in the mood for; this step can be done interchangeably depending on which attribute you feel most strongly about.
Once you've narrowed it down, find the producer and vintage. These give clues about the wine’s quality, style, and maturity.
Ask for help, suggestions, information, and guidance wherever possible. Taste. Taste often. Take note. Be present. And keep in mind that foremost wine is meant to be enjoyed
Finally
Thank you for demystifying wine selection in a simple way. I enjoy wines and this helps.