Words: Rich, round, buttery, flavor length, texture fatness, attractive, generous, intense, full-fruited, some suppleness, body, silkiness, taste generosity, fresh, clean, slightly buttery, big, chewy, substantial, green, meaty, mouth-filling, long finish, aroma of oatmeal, burly, some funk, integrated, short, flamboyant, with all the stuffing, unvarnished, lingering finish, rough edges, floral nose, approachable, and exploded on finish.
Culled from three brief articles, these all describe one thing; have you discerned it? There are a couple hints, such as “flavor length” and “mouth-filling” – – must be food or beverages. Not to prolong the suspense, it is wine! So, has your glass of wine tasted of “funk” lately, or was it “round” (except for a description of the glass, what does that mean?) or “chewy” (I, for one, have never munched my wine)?
Wine-making is one of our species’ most ancient accomplishments, and given the dozens of conditions that can affect the final product, it is fair to say that centuries of refinement and skills of many vintners has raised the process to an art. And inevitably art brings us critics, who are the people who are responsible for all of the adjectives above.
If the purpose of the critic is to communicate, I’d say the process has somehow become derailed among most wine critics because, with the possible exception of critics of modern art, they more than any other have created a language which is at once as daunting as it is unintelligible. As long as respected magazines as Food and Wine, Gourmet, and Wine Spectator provide them with extensive forums, they shall be with us. I sense they are mostly self-appointed and perhaps unintentionally have created and maintain this language gulf in order to preserve the mystique and haughtiness that surrounds them. After all, how are we to judge them as critics if we cannot understand what they are saying?
In a recent article in the New York Times, one of the critics describing a bottle of wine said of it that it was “musty, in a good way,” while another said of the same bottle it had a “barnyard aroma” (definitely not in a good way!). This illustrates the great subjectivity and imprecision that is involved in such judgments, but it should also alert us mere mortals (i.e., non-critics) to be on guard when we encounter the “pros.”
Wine can be one of life’s great joys. For me to settle in on a cold night with a great meal and a full-bodied (you with me on that?) red can be a sublime moment. I suggest that you decide for yourself which wines you like and do not like; consult the experts if you please, but in the end take their advice with a grain of salt. (I wonder if “salty” has ever been one of their adjectives?)
— Ken Butera