Of words, wines and whines

Many whiskeys ago I was asked to write the blurb for a set of labels for a new wine. I must have been successful because the wine sold well and today is considered something of a benchmark among the Marlborough whites. I should be happy but I am not. The result says less for my way with words than for the way of words, and their ability to sell.
You see, I wrote the blurb knowing very little about wine and without having even opened a bottle of this particular brand. I made it all up and delivered characteristics to these wines that to this day I have no idea whether they were accurate.
It didn’t seem to matter.
What seems to matter in this world is the degree of pretentiousness you instigate, instil and infuse into wine writing. The thesaurus is the bible of the wine writer. Where else would they find such meaningless descriptive linguistics as “unctuous”, “intimidating”, “forthright” and (my favourite) “fleet of foot"?
It is almost the purest style over substance in writing. The facts should in wine writing not only not get in the way of a good story, they should be banished to the bottom of the cellar forever hidden from the light.
As evidence, let’s look at some examples I picked lately. The wines don’t matter, the words do:
· The fine milk chocolate appears alone at first and gradually begins to flirt with elegant notes of wood and warm spice which bloom and disappear
· The fruit is restrained, the texture is soft, and there’s a smidgen of that ethereal ‘Sideways’ character lurking in the bottle.”
· The delicate nose succumbs and seduces. Lulls you into a false security before the onslaught…
· El Cid remains resplendent in this evocative red from the steppes (sic) of Spain.
· The palate offers the slightest of orange chocolate with the citrus providing a loving and gifted partner upon a marriage bed paradoxically redolent of Scottish heather.
That last one, and the propensity to evoke all kinds of other tastes, provoked one frustrated drinker I know to exclaim, “Why can’t it (wine) taste like grapes?” The wine writer I know replied simply, “Then it would be grape juice.” True. But about the only thing in wine writing that is.