Right, let's address the elephant in the room—or rather, the wine in your glass. There's a rather enormous difference between drinking wine and tasting it, and no, I'm not being a pretentious wine snob (well, maybe just a little). When you're drinking wine, you're simply enjoying it—brilliant for Friday night Netflix sessions. But when you're tasting wine, you're engaging every sense, analyzing layers of complexity, and basically giving your wine the attention it deserves. C'est magnifique when done properly.
Think of it like the difference between scrolling through someone's Instagram versus actually having a proper conversation with them over coffee. One's passive, the other's engaged. And trust me, once you learn to taste wine properly, you'll never go back to mindless gulping. Your palate (and your wallet) will thank you—you'll stop wasting money on rubbish wines that look pretty but taste like disappointment.
Before you even think about swirling that gorgeous liquid, hold your glass up to the light against a white background (a napkin, tablecloth, or even a piece of paper works brilliantly). What you're looking for is color, clarity, and viscosity—three visual clues that tell you loads about what you're about to taste.
White wines: Range from pale straw (young, crisp) to deep gold or amber (aged, possibly oaked or sweet). A greenish tinge? That's often Sauvignon Blanc showing off. Deeper golden hues suggest oak aging or bottle age—think rich Chardonnay or aged Riesling.
Red wines: Span from bright purple-red (youthful, vibrant) to brick-orange or tawny (mature, evolved). Young reds like Beaujolais show vivid purple tones, while aged Bordeaux develops that gorgeous garnet-to-brick evolution. It's like watching wine age gracefully—très élégant.
Clarity: Most wines should be brilliantly clear (unless they're unfiltered natural wines, which can be slightly hazy—totally acceptable, darling). Cloudiness might indicate a fault, though increasingly we're seeing intentionally unfined wines that embrace a bit of haze.
Viscosity (the "legs"): Swirl your glass and watch how the wine drips down the sides. Thick, slow-moving legs suggest higher alcohol or residual sugar. Light, fast-moving streams? Lower alcohol, crisp and fresh. Don't get too obsessed with legs, though—they're just one small clue in the puzzle.
Here's where you get to feel fancy. Give your glass a gentle swirl—keep it on the table if you're worried about spillage (no judgment, we've all been there). This isn't just for show; you're aerating the wine, which releases volatile aromatic compounds. Basically, you're waking the wine up and telling it to show you what it's got.
The wider the bowl of your glass, the more surface area for aeration—this is why proper wine glasses matter, loves. A good swirl opens up tight, closed wines and makes shy aromas come forward. Think of it as the wine equivalent of a good morning stretch—absolutely essential.
Right, this is where approximately 80% of tasting actually happens—your nose is an absolute powerhouse. Stick your nose right into that glass (no shame here) and take a proper sniff. Not a polite little sniff—a deep, intentional inhale. You're looking for three layers of aromas:
These come directly from the grape variety and fermentation. Think fresh fruit (citrus, berries, stone fruit), floral notes (roses, violets), and herbaceous qualities (grass, bell pepper, mint). Sauvignon Blanc screams gooseberry and passion fruit. Pinot Noir whispers red cherry and rose petals. Each grape has its signature calling card.
These develop during winemaking—oak aging, malolactic fermentation, lees contact. You'll pick up vanilla, toast, butter, cream, brioche, or yeasty notes. That gorgeous buttery character in Chardonnay? Secondary aromas from malolactic fermentation. The vanilla and coconut in oaked reds? All secondary, babe.
These emerge with bottle aging—leather, tobacco, earth, mushroom, dried fruit, nuts. You won't find these in young wines; they're the reward for patience. Aged Burgundy develops truffle and forest floor. Mature Rioja shows leather and dried cherry. C'est le terroir meets time, and it's absolutely magical.
Finally, the moment you've been waiting for—actually tasting the bloody wine! Take a medium-sized sip (not a gulp, darling) and let it coat your entire mouth. Some professionals do that rather unattractive slurping thing to aerate the wine further—feel free to skip that in polite company, though it does work.
Here's what you're analyzing on your palate:
The weight and texture of wine—think skim milk (light-bodied) versus whole milk (medium) versus heavy cream (full-bodied). Pinot Grigio is typically light, Chardonnay medium to full, and Cabernet Sauvignon decidedly full-bodied. You feel this as much as taste it.
Detected on the tip of your tongue. Most table wines are dry (no perceptible sweetness), but you've got off-dry (slightly sweet), medium-sweet, and lusciously sweet dessert wines. Residual sugar is measured in grams per liter—bone-dry wines have less than 4 g/L, while sweet wines can have 100+ g/L.
Makes your mouth water—literally. High acidity (Riesling, Champagne, Sauvignon Blanc) feels crisp and refreshing. Low acidity feels soft, round, sometimes flabby. Acidity is the backbone of wine; it provides structure and makes wine food-friendly. Without it, wine tastes dull and lifeless.
That drying, astringent sensation on your gums and cheeks—like over-steeped tea. Tannins come from grape skins, seeds, and oak barrels. Cabernet Sauvignon and Nebbiolo pack serious tannin punch, while Pinot Noir and Gamay are gentle. Tannins soften with age and provide structure for aging.
You feel alcohol as warmth in your throat and chest. Typical table wines range from 11.5% to 15% ABV. High alcohol (14%+) feels hot and can overpower delicate flavors. Low alcohol (under 12%) feels lighter and more refreshing. Balance is key—alcohol should support, not dominate.
After you swallow (or spit, if you're being professional), pay attention to the finish—how long the flavors linger and how they evolve. A short finish (under 2 seconds) suggests a simple wine. A medium finish (2-5 seconds) indicates decent quality. A long, complex finish (5+ seconds) is the hallmark of truly exceptional wine.
Great wines don't just disappear—they evolve on your palate, revealing new flavors and sensations. That's the difference between a $15 bottle and a $150 bottle, loves. Complexity, length, and evolution. If the finish is harsh, bitter, or just vanishes instantly, that's telling you something about quality.
Wine tasting isn't about making up bonkers descriptors (though "wet gravel" is absolutely a legitimate Chablis descriptor, I promise). It's about developing a shared language to describe what you're experiencing. Here are the most useful descriptors:
Look, I'm not suggesting you need to write a bloody novel about every wine you taste, but keeping notes is genuinely brilliant for developing your palate and remembering what you loved (or hated). Here's a simple structure:
Use apps like SipSavvy (shameless plug), Vivino, or good old-fashioned notebooks. The key is consistency—develop your own shorthand and stick with it. Over time, you'll build a personal wine database that's worth its weight in gold (or Burgundy, which is essentially the same thing).
I know, I know—your favorite mug or tumbler works just fine for casual drinking. But if you're serious about tasting wine, proper glassware genuinely makes a difference. The shape of the glass directs wine to specific parts of your tongue and concentrates aromas toward your nose.
Universal wine glass: A classic tulip-shaped glass with a generous bowl works for most wines. Riedel, Zalto, and Schott Zwiesel make brilliant options from $10 to $50 per glass.
Specific glasses: If you want to get fancy, Burgundy glasses (wider bowl) showcase delicate Pinot Noir, while Bordeaux glasses (taller, narrower) focus powerful Cabernet. Sparkling wine flutes preserve bubbles, and dessert wine glasses are smaller (because you serve less).
The most important factors: crystal-clear glass (so you can see color), thin rim (doesn't interfere with wine delivery), and proper bowl size (adequate surface area for aeration). Avoid colored or decorated glasses—they obscure visual examination.
Here's something they don't always tell you: your palate gets tired. After tasting 5-6 wines, your ability to distinguish subtle differences diminishes dramatically. Professional tastings have strategies to combat this—and you should too.
Tasting order matters: Always start with lighter, crisper wines and progress to heavier, richer ones. Sparkling → white → rosé → light red → full red → sweet. Tasting a delicate Muscadet after a massive Barolo is like trying to hear a whisper at a rock concert—completely pointless.
And for the love of all things grape-based, avoid strong perfume, cologne, or scented hand lotion at tastings. You'll completely overwhelm the wine's delicate aromas—and annoy everyone around you. Trust me on this one, loves.
The brilliant thing about learning to taste wine is that practice requires drinking wine—hardly a hardship, is it? Start with comparative tastings: buy two Chardonnays from different regions (Chablis versus California) and taste them side-by-side. The differences will jump out at you.
Join a wine club, attend tastings, or organize your own with friends. The more you taste intentionally, the faster your palate develops. You'll start recognizing Sauvignon Blanc's signature gooseberry, Syrah's black pepper, Nebbiolo's tar and roses. It's like learning a new language—awkward at first, but soon you're thinking in wine.
Most importantly, remember that wine tasting should be enjoyable, not intimidating. There are no wrong answers—your palate is uniquely yours. If you detect strawberry where someone else finds cherry, brilliant! You're both right. Wine is subjective, personal, and endlessly fascinating.