There is a lot of wine out there. With more than 1,300 different varietals, that is about three times the number of Law & Order: SVU episodes to date. Do the casual but confident and educated wine drinkers of the world need to know them all? The short answer is no. That’s like making someone intensively study and train for Jeopardy! to go to Sunday Night Trivia at Ye Rustic Inn. Four-pound grape dictionaries are great for when you’re looking to high-dive into the deep end of wine, but not very helpful when you’re looking for a quick suggestion on a medium-bodied white wine that doesn’t taste like someone poured you a glass of your grandma’s perfume that she’s had since ’74. Rather than go over the hundreds of wines you will probably never see, in this chapter I’ll take you through the single varietals you’re most likely to encounter.
Now that you know how to taste wine, it’s important to always be trying new wines. This can sometimes be daunting, because it’s easy to fall into the habit of drinking the same styles of wine. I have to constantly remind myself that there are wines in the world other than light-bodied French reds, not only because it’s my job to write about all kinds of wine, but because I can’t get better by drinking the same stuff over and over. The only way to keep learning, expanding your palate, and practicing different descriptors is by constantly trying wines you’ve never had before.
One of the perks of being my friend, aside from knowing I will always bring bomb-ass Champagne to celebrate the cool shit you’ve accomplished, is that you can always hit me up to ask me about a wine you’ve never heard of. Because even if you’ve found your wine shop, and you’re asking questions, and you trust them, it still feels nice to ask a reliable friend who knows what’s up. And what this chapter is is you texting me, asking, “Hey, what’s the deal with Godello?” and getting my tasting notes texted back quicker than a desperate booty call. Use this chapter as a fast reference guide or a shopping list for new wines to try.
RED WINES
Barbera
This varietal is found primarily in Piemonte, Italy, and its wine is rich in flavor but feels light bodied because of its low tannins and high acidity. Cranberries, blackberries, cherry, and pine make it both fruity and woodsy. You know that warm, fuzzy, “I want to hug everyone!” feeling? It’s that. Mixed with Christmas. Mixed with even more juicy berries.
The first thing that comes to mind when I think of Cabernet Franc is bell peppers. It has some fruit on it, like cranberry, strawberry, and plum, as well as some gravelly minerality, but it is mostly known for its herbaceous spice. I liken this to cooking fajitas with someone you just started dating who’s a little edgy and you’re not quite sure if they even like you, but they’re so snuggly!
In my early years, I swore up and down that California Cab Sauv was the only wine for me. While it will always have a special place in my heart, I now reserve drinking it for decadent evenings. Its heavy body, bold dark fruit, tobacco, and pepper flavors are best served with food just as rich, rather than drinking it on an empty stomach at happy hour.
A dusty (and spicy) fruit bowl of a wine that proves you can play both sides without being an asshole. It can feel light and deserving of some space in your fridge for a summer afternoon, or it can be taken seriously at the dinner table with fall-inspired dishes (think Thanksgiving). It’s fun, but has a weight to it. It reminds me of the dance scene in Pulp Fiction: as playful as the Swim, but it’s as deep as Uma Thurman’s stare.
Cinsault is an easy drinker that flies under the radar, because it has been used primarily as a blending grape and for rosés. But much like Beyoncé, Cinsault shines when it goes solo. It may be light bodied and fruity with cranberry and strawberry, but its pepper, dash of salt, and inexplicable meaty quality makes it more savory than other light, juicy reds. I’ve been known to describe them as “grab-your-tits good,” so do what you will with that information.
This is another light red that people have buried in blends, but I say bring me a full bottle of it any day. Counoise is a Lite-Brite of tart cranberry and spiced strawberry that I love having chilled for day drinking, whether I’m in a bikini or in my sweatpants. It’s rosé for those of us who would prefer a red over a rosé (please don’t kill me).
Gamay, with its tart red berries, black currant, and subtle floral notes of peony and violet, is the love of my wine life. I drink it almost daily and find its many iterations, from gluggy Nouveau juice to unsuspectingly bold, smooth, and nuanced crus like Moulin-à-Vent and Morgon, to be the most delicious thing on the planet. Crowd pleasing but also intimate, Gamay is basically a jukebox with at least one of everyone’s favorite songs loaded up.
I will admit that I have a strained relationship with Grenache. Many times its candied strawberry and raspberry flavors remind me of fruit snacks and I want nothing to do with it, although most people love it. My preferred type of Grenache is Spain’s Hairy Grenache. It’s related to regular Grenache and has the same bright berry notes, but with more balsamic and bitter flavors.
Many people write off Lambrusco because they end up with a sweet one, but traditional Lambrusco is dry and prickly. Originally made to pair with the cuisine of its region, Emilia-Romagna, Lambruscos are excellent food wines and pair well with everything from pasta to cheeseburgers. Perfect for those who love bubbles but shy from sweet, and anyone who likes to make any day a festive and celebratory occasion.
Malbec from Argentina is what most people think of when it comes to Malbec: rich, powerhouse of blackberries, plum, and tobacco. These are great full-bodied food wines because of their short finish and the fact that they don’t overpower leaner meats. But France also does Malbec, and they call it Côt. And goddamn do I love it. Driven by minerality rather than fruit, Côt is lighter and a bit spicier, but still delivers on savory plums.
Italy’s other pizza wine aside from Sangiovese, these juicy reds always remind me of Rome. It has lively cranberry, sour cherry, and minerality that finishes smooth. It’s vibrant and energetic like a crazed taxi navigating traffic around the seven hills, while somehow maintaining that classic calm and casual elegance that all Italians (even the yelling ones) seem to possess.
Mourvèdre is like a big, flowery bouquet of spareribs. While I don’t think I would like to have that waiting for me on my doorstep after work, I do like it in a glass. Mourvèdre is plummy and spicy, with dark berries, smoke, and, well, meat. All these qualities make it an essential red wine for grilling and barbeque.
Nebbiolo is like jumping into a pool that doesn’t look that cold, and then you are shocked upon impact. You smell it and you’re convinced it’s going to be an easygoing wine, and then it punches you in the mouth with its high tannins. But in a good way! It tastes like a big red fruit that is grown in the middle of the Forbidden Forest from Harry Potter, but with more flowers and less scary stuff. It has a little bit of everything: bright cherry, floral notes of roses and violets, and wet clay.
Nero d’Avola is a dusty European cowboy covered in jam. Riding in from a nonexistent desert on the outskirts of Italy that I have dreamed up, Nero is blackberry and plum jam, with hints of smoke, tobacco, and a bit of spice.
Pineau d’Aunis is like Gamay’s cousin that is in a very indie band that no one really knows about but you do, and by God, you’re going to let people know that you love their self-released EP. Basically, this is the wine that gets me called a hipster the most. It’s primarily been used in blends over the years, but now the grape that is just as bright, tart, and chuggable as Gamay is getting some shelf time, too. It’s one of my favorite “writing wines,” meaning I can drink it like water.
The thin-skinned grape that came to the fore in Sideways is my idea of a fuzzy throw blanket of a wine. It’s light but warm, with bright cranberry, raspberry, and cherry notes, and a lingering finish that you could curl up in. And it can go anywhere! Throw blankets are for the living room, for the bed, for picnics, and same goes for Pinot Noir. It’s versatile as hell, and I’ve yet to find anyone to turn one down while hanging out on the couch.
The patron saint of Italian wine (well, at least in my religion), Sangiovese is as diverse as Italy’s cuisine. There’s lighter, fruit-forward Sangiovese that you can throw back like paper-thin margherita pizza, and there’s rustic, tannic Sangiovese that feels more like a hearty Bolognese. Either way, you’ll encounter flavors of tart cherry and tomato. And if you don’t see any straight-up Sangiovese, grab yourself some Chianti, which is also made of Sangiovese grapes. You might recognize them from their weaved basket bases, called a fiasco bottle.
This lesser-known Austrian grape is Pinot Noir’s younger sister that dabbled in going Goth. In other words, they are in the same grape family, but there are some key differences. Like many siblings, they are undeniably related, sharing similar red fruit characteristics and structure, but St. Laurent is darker and a bit tougher, with dry, earthy notes.
While some Syrahs can be way over the top, a well-made Syrah is a spiritual and transformative wine, like one of those summers you come out of feeling more mature and self-assured. Bold and forward fruits like blackberry and blueberry come on strong, and taper off to a spicy and smoky finish, like the plume of a campfire drifting quietly into the night sky.
Depending on whether you’re in Germany or Italy, this wine may be called Trollinger or Schiava. Either way, I call it California Summer But I Wish It Was Fall wine. It’s light enough to drink when it’s still hot out through October, with soft strawberry and floral notes, but it has a woodsy, tobacco taste that will tide you over until fall actually arrives.
Trousseau reminds me of a strong female lead that no one takes seriously at first because she looks delicate and likes the color pink, but once you get to know her, she turns out to be a badass. Trousseau’s pale red hue may have you thinking it won’t be able to hold its own, but its tannic structure is strong as hell. A gravelly babe of smoked, dried roses, Trousseau is a little bitter and not to be underestimated.
Once called Napa Gamay, Valdiguié was one of the most popular grapes grown in California until Cabernet had to come and fuck it all up. Valdiguié is a very juicy, easygoing wine, with an airy floral bouquet and a palate bursting with strawberry and velvety blackberry notes. If a wine came in a juice box, this would be it.
Zinfandel got a bad rap in the nineties when the focus became to push the wine’s ABV up past 16 percent, creating overripe, jammy wines that were just gross. While classical Zinfandel, which is, thankfully, making a comeback, is still bold with black berries and a smoky finish, it’s light on its feet—and it won’t get you totally wasted with crazy ABV percentages.
Unfussy and youthful, Zweigelt is right up there with Gamay when it comes to being the party animals of the red varietals. Often found in crown-capped liter bottles, Austria’s Zweigelt is all fresh and bright sour cherry flavor with hints of earthiness and bitter herbal notes. But not too much. Zweigelt is less for pondering over wine’s complexities, and more for enjoying the hell out of.
WHITE WINES
Albariño
Taking a whiff of Albariño, one of the most floral white wines, whisks you away to a blossoming citrus orchard. With its mouthwatering acidity, bright lemon and lime flavors, and elevated minerality, this Spanish wine reminds me of sipping fresh limeade on a springtime patio.
If you’ve been dying to holiday in Santorini but can only afford a bottle of wine, Assyrtiko is the one for you. This Greek wine from Santorini is poppy and fun, but elegant and smooth. It will make you feel as if you’re traipsing along the isle’s famous white-structured skylines with waves of crisp citrus, apple, and high minerality crashing upon your taste buds.
Don’t let grocery store box wine, which co-opted the name, scare you away from Chablis. The Chardonnay for those who cringe over robust California Chardonnays, Burgundy’s Chablis is 100 percent Chardonnay, unoaked, lean and zesty with steely citrus, limestone, and a touch of seawater. It’s sophisticated as hell, and treasured by wine enthusiasts around the world for its minerality.
Chardonnay heavily takes on the characteristics of its fermentation. If you’re into buttery, vanilla-y Chardonnays, get yourself an oaked Chardonnay. Personally, I think oak is often an asshole who is trying to steal Chardonnay’s spotlight. With neutral fermentations like steel or concrete, Chardonnay’s fruit profile of lighter citrus, pears, and apple blossoms, or tropical notes like pineapple and passion fruit, shine with more acidity and nods to terroir.
I’m not one for astrology, but Chenin Blanc is a bit of a Gemini. It can be dry or it can be sweet, and depending on your taste, you should talk to your wine shop to make sure you’re getting what you want. (Hint: If you see SEC on the label, it’s dry.) Because of its high acidity, it tastes great either way, with notes of soft apples, pears, orange marmalade, and honey.
Gewürztraminer always reminds me of a Polynesian sweet and sour sauce. Strikingly aromatic with heavy tropical notes of lychee and flower leis, it tastes like pineapple, orange, and savory brown sugar. It’s one of the toughest wines in regular rotation to pronounce, but don’t worry. Every time I say this word, I sound like a character speaking backward in Agent Cooper’s dream sequence from Twin Peaks, so you’re not alone.
Grüner is very green. Its bottles are dark green, the wine itself is a pale yellow green, and it smells like a farmers’ market haul of green beans, herbs, and citrus. The good news is, drinking it is less like finishing your vegetables and more like drinking crisp green apple and lime with Pop Rocks.
If I was in marketing, my slogan for this wine would be: “Need a beach day? Sail away with a bottle of Muscadet!” Muscadet (also known as Melon de Bourgogne) is driven by minerality, and tastes like sipping on a salted cantaloupe slushie with fresh-squeezed limes while watching waves crash upon the shore.
Pinot Grigio is what Italians call it, and Pinot Gris is what the French call it, but it’s the same damn grape. Pinot G is one of the all-time champion day-drinking wines. Fresh and zippy, it smells like citrus and honeysuckle, and tastes like you just sat back in a lawn chair in your backyard with some homegrown lemons, limes, and not quite ripe white peach.
One of the wine world’s most beloved grapes, there is a Riesling for everyone. Depending on the region, Riesling ranges from tasting like a juicy pack of Starbursts to grapefruits dusted with granular sugar. No matter how dry you go, Riesling is peachy and floral, and will pair with whatever you’re eating.
Sauvignon Blanc tastes just like it looks: sunny. It reminds me of a glass of spring on the cusp of summer. It has the spongy innards of Meyer lemon, lime, wet grass, and a little hot concrete. Maybe even a faint sea breeze.
Sémillon is like Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc’s love child. Both rich and refreshing, on the nose it’s like lemon meringue pie with a little spice on the crust. Its body and texture are reminiscent of Chardonnay, full and waxy, while its palate is more Sauv Blanc with tangy apple, lemon, and candied ginger.
It may be one of the hardest wines to pronounce, but Cha-co-lee is one of the easiest wines to throw back. Airy, effervescent, and salty, Spain’s Txakoli is as irresistible as a bowl of potato chips. Its clean-cut citrus and brisk white flowers coupled with a heightened acidity and minerality make it zingy, refreshing, and impossible to keep your hands off of.
Primarily grown on the Italian island of Sardinia, Vermentino is a Mediterranean daydream. It smells and tastes like a picnic of pears and pink grapefruits dusted with sea salt on a white pebbled beach. It is Gwyneth Paltrow and Jude Law smiling in the surf of an Italian beach in The Talented Mr. Ripley—youthful, idyllic, and summery.
The LaCroix of wine. Portugal’s Vinho Verde is lightly effervescent, goes down like water, and is addictive. It tastes like grapefruit lemonade, with hints of melon and Paul McCartney’s sweat. No, I have not licked Paul McCartney, but if I did, I bet it would be crisp, salty, and intoxicating and I would drink bottles of it. Cherry on top: It’s superaffordable, usually around ten bucks a bottle.
Viognier smells like a perfume you actually want to drink, with aromas not unlike a favorite Bath & Body Works scent. Yes, it’s strong, but you love it. The bouquet smells like an actual bouquet of peach blossoms and honeysuckle, but the palate is a thick, cool wind of tropical fruits à la mode.
ROSÉ WINES
Cabernet Franc
Dry but refreshing, Cabernet Franc rosé is a welcome summer breeze, wafting in rose hips and limestone minerality. It tastes just as summery as it smells, with notes of raspberry, cucumber, and that beachy hair spray that smells like the ocean, but better.
Sassy and tart, Gamay rosé lives up to its fuller red counterparts. On the nose, you have raspberry Lemonheads, white flowers, and hints of pink grapefruit. The palate is like chilled strawberries dipped in a Ziploc baggy of half Himalayan sea salt and half the powder found at the bottom of a Sour Patch Kids box.
Grenache rosé is more mature than other rosés. Savory and supple, the nose is exuberant with rhubarb, anise, and red fruits, and it tastes like maraschino cherries draped in velvet. Grenache rosé prefers dinner to day drinking, as it pairs fabulously with food. It reminds me of Padma Lakshmi: always elegant, and very fun after a glass or two.
Lighthearted but sentimental, Pinot Noir rosé subtly tiptoes in from a wet garden and down a hall of strawberry and watermelon into your bed. It’s fruity, earthy, sexy, with a good laugh—like an acoustic but upbeat Father John Misty jam.
This is the only blend I’m covering because it would be too insane for me to try to cover all the blends, but this is a must. Generally, when you’re “looking for rosé,” this is the wine that comes to mind. These varying blends of Grenache, Cinsault, Syrah, and Mourvèdre are lean and fruity with strawberry and watermelon, with a slightly salty finish. There wouldn’t be a rosé season without ’em.
One of those electropop songs kept in rhythm by a strong beat. It smells and tastes like neon strawberry and orange zest with firecracker acidity that could break free into a rager of sharp red fruits, but with enough textural structure to keep it together.
Refresher! Orange wines are white wines that are made like red wines. That’s also going to be the name of my Dr. Seuss–style picture book for adults.
If someone made a soft shag rug out of lemon zest, apples, and honey, that’s what drinking skin-fermented Chardonnay tastes like. It’s plush, it’s sultry, and it leaves you wondering why you spent so many years shaming Chardonnay, because now it’s all you want to get down on.
Drinking an orange Godello feels like you’re draping your mouth in the finest fabric of Spain. It smells like rich Golden Delicious apples drenched in maple syrup, tastes like silk crepe strewn out of lemon-pineapple SweeTarts, and feels like you’re going to drink the whole bottle and need a siesta.
The orange wine for people who’ve never had orange wine. It’s funky for sure, but it’s also approachable. Strong aromatics of honey, dried flowers, and peaches give way to a similar palate that is taut with acidity, textural but smooth, leaving an overall feeling like it’s waltzing through your mouth rather than stomping around.
Pinot Gris smells like mandarins, pears, and spiced saltwater taffy. The color is vibrant and almost coral, and the palate is just as punchy as it looks, with notes of bright citrus, pears, and apples.
SPARKLING WINES
Cava
Cava is one of those things that seems too good to be true, but it is true and it is indeed very good. A blend of Macabeo, Xarel-lo, and Parellada, Cava is made just like Champagne but with a Vinho Verde price tag. The Spanish sparkler bursts with bright lemongrass, green apples, and fine scrubby bubbles, and it makes celebrating (even on ordinary days) affordable.
Champagne varies depending on how dry you’re going and how old it is, but who are we kidding? It’s fucking Champagne! The muse of rappers, yacht owners, and normal people everywhere, Champagne is revered for its delicate but structured bubbles and elegance. Most widely made with Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier, it’s a delicious splurge with notes of lemon, gardenia, and nutty pastry.
You don’t need to understand French to know the word Crémant means “chill bubbles.” Made in méthode traditionnelle like Champagne but at a lower atmospheric pressure, Crémant drinks like a white wine but still feels like a party. These wines’ flavor varies from AOC to AOC, like Crémant d’Alsace and Crémant de Loire, but they are extremely light on the nose, and the palate is effortless and scrumptious, with notes of crisp apples, pears, and my mother’s lemon bars.
The middle sister between Champagne and Cava in the fairy tale of sparkling wines is Franciacorta. This méthode traditionnelle Italian wine is fruity and floral with notes of apricot, lemon, and almonds. When aged, it can become creamy like Champagne.
Remember the sparkling wines that get capped before they’re done fermenting? These are the ones! Because they can be made with any grape, their flavor profiles are all over the place, but they are almost always unfiltered and are always, always fun. Tart, lively, with a taste reminiscent of kombucha, these are some of my all-time favorite wines.
Prosecco is the sundress of sparkling wine, sweet and playful. Its youthful, floral nature comes from its tank fermentation, which preserves the wine’s freshness and aromatics. On the palate, it is fruit-forward with creamy honeydew and apples.
I hope this is a chapter you can always turn to, something you can open up any night of the week and never feel at a loss for what to drink. I hope it inspires you to always be trying new wines. Even after you’ve drank all my suggestions, I hope it inspires you to seek out the hundreds of wines I didn’t list. I hope it inspires you to taste them, to describe them, to talk about them. Because you never know when you’ll become the friend everyone texts from the wine shop.
You may laugh now, but if this book proves anything, it is that we are all capable of being that friend.
To-Drink List: