Here’s the other view: detailed descriptions of wine are grade-A, un-adulterated horseshit. They are futile attempts to pigeonhole something that cannot be described in words. Wine’s elusive effects on nose, palate and throat are perceived differently by different people, and writers who think they can capture those sensations are fooling themselves.
My own view falls somewhere in between the two extremes. On one hand, it’s easy to dismiss wine-speak as a unique form of snobbism. James Thurber expressed this view in a famous cartoon: “It’s a naive, domestic Burgundy without any breeding,” says wine-snob to companion, “but I think you’ll be amused by its presumption.”But that’s too easy a joke.

First of all, we need some descriptive terminology if we’re to move beyond saying that a wine is red/white, dry/sweet, and good/ bad/revolting Second, certain descriptors ring bells for most drinkers. A standard description of Gewurztraminer, for instance, compares it to lychees; makes sense to me. The same applies to gooseberry for Sauvignon Blanc and peppery for certain Rhone reds.But what about the hazelnuts? The treacle tart and quince and jam? The candied ginger and passion fruit and unripe apricots? Are these for real, or just fanciful imaginings? One wine journalist, who cannot be named for legal reasons, is convinced that some wine-writers just make it up.”You’ve got to write something, so you conjure up these strange tastes – ugli fruit, or a sumo wrestler’s jockstrap – out of thin air It can be very entertaining, but it’s not helpful And I think it puts readers off. They want the general area, oak, body, where’s it from, is it tannic, and then a recommendation.”Can ordinary mortals keep up with the pros when they leap into the metaphoric abyss? To find out, I conducted a tasting of five wines. There were supposed to be six, but one didn’t arrive in time – about which more later.My intrepid team had the following brief. First they were to blind-taste each wine and write their own description, using whatever terminology they find useful.

Then, after finishing their notes, they were to look over tasting notes for each wine, four from leading drinks writers and one from the producer, and see if they could tell which wine went with which description. To make things more interesting, I hadn’t explained my objectives: I wanted them to think they were there to slurp and evaluate.The notes were chosen to cover a reasonable spectrum of describing styles. My panel, a nicely mixed bunch, consisted entirely of Independent on Sunday readers who answered my plea (published late last year) for tasting volunteers. They were: Stephen Cake, age 37; Alison Cake, 31; Dr Robert Asher, 49; Beate Hemmel, 36; Catherine Nalty, 37. Their professions included GP, PA, and Tax Inspector, and they turned up for a Saturday morning session at Bibendum wine merchants in Regents Park Road, London.