Finding your wine personality: what you could actually like (and why)

 

Personality. Personal. Person. Same root, different vibes. Our first post in the November series is about making wine personal - not performative.

A truth most sommeliers won’t admit? Wine is confusing. Not because it’s complex (it is), but because the industry insists on describing it like a perfume ad written by a poet with a thesaurus complex. “Hints of forest floor and crushed violets”? Please. Most of us just want to know: do I like this, or do I want to discreetly pour it into the nearest pot plant?

This isn’t about memorising grape varieties or pretending to detect minerality. It’s about figuring out what you enjoy - and why your palate might prefer a juicy Shiraz over a flinty Chablis, or vice versa.

So let’s start by dropping the snobbery. You don’t need a wine fridge, a swan-shaped decanter or a diploma in viticulture. You need curiosity, a functioning nose, and the courage to say “I do not like this” even if it’s a 95-pointer from Napa. Wine is personal. Your taste isn’t wrong - it’s just yours.

Flavour-wise, wine tends to hang out in a few familiar neighbourhoods. You’ll start recognising them once you’ve had a few glasses and a few regrets:
• Fruity & soft: Think Merlot, Pinot Noir, Beaujolais. Low tannins, red fruit, easy-drinking. If you like strawberry jam and hate bitterness, start here.
• Bold & spicy: Shiraz, Malbec, Zinfandel. Big flavours, black fruit, pepper, sometimes smoke. Ideal if you enjoy barbecue, dark chocolate, or drama.
• Crisp & zesty: Sauvignon Blanc, Albariño, dry Riesling. High acidity, citrus notes, refreshing. Great with seafood, sarcasm, and humid weather.
• Creamy & buttery: Oaked Chardonnay, Viognier. Rich texture, tropical fruit, vanilla. If you like buttered toast and spa days, this is your zone.
• Earthy & complex: Bordeaux blends, Barolo, Burgundy. Tannins, structure, layers. Best appreciated slowly, like jazz or your in-laws.

Tasting, by the way, isn’t a polite nod of vague approval. It’s a full-body experience. You observe, you inhale, you let it sit. Then you decide whether it’s love at first sip, or a polite pass.
• Look: Is it pale or inky? Clear or cloudy? If it looks like Ribena, it probably tastes like Ribena.
• Sniff: Stick your nose in. Don’t be shy. What do you smell? Fruit? Spice? Wet cardboard? (That’s a fault, by the way.)
• Sip: Let it coat your mouth. Is it sharp, soft, bitter, sweet? Does it punch you or hug you?
• React: Do you want another sip? Or a palate cleanse and a beer?

Once you’ve started tasting, start tracking. A wine journal doesn’t need to be a spreadsheet - unless you’re that kind of person. Just jot down what you liked, what you disliked, and why. Add context: the weather, the mood, who you were with. Over time, patterns will emerge. Maybe you love wines from Chile. Perhaps you loathe anything oaky. Or you’re secretly into rosé and just need permission to admit it.

And remember, pairing isn’t just for food. Your wine personality is also about context. Something crisp after a long day? A bold vintage for a dinner? Maybe a pink for a brunch with questionable intent? Wine isn’t static - it’s mood-based. Your preferences will shift. That’s normal. That’s human. Because you are.

Of course, there are a few common missteps worth dodging:

• Buying by label design: Yes, the label looks like a tattoo display. No, that doesn’t mean it’s good.
• Assuming expensive = better: Sometimes true. Often not. Plenty of sub-$20 wines punch above their weight.
• Over-indexing on ratings: Critics are useful. But they’re not you. Trust your own palate.
• Ignoring local options: Indian Sula, Thai Monsoon Valley, Vietnamese Da Lat - these aren’t novelties. They’re part of your wine landscape.

In places like India, Southeast Asia, and the UAE, wine culture is still evolving. That’s a gift. You’re not bound by tradition or snobbery. You get to build your own relationship with wine - one that reflects your tastes, your food, your climate, and your social rituals. We’re not binning centuries of Old World wisdom; we’re just pairing it with reality: new markets, new moods, new tastes.

So stop sommeliers telling you what “forest floors” taste like. Because just who knows what a forest floor tastes like? And you couldn’t care less. Taste widely. Ask questions. Reject what doesn’t work. Celebrate what does.

And when someone asks what kind of wine you like, don't say 'red' or 'white.' Say: 'The kind I finish.' That's all the personality you need.

Wine should be enjoyed. Drink responsibly.

Disclaimer: All links provided in this blog are based on my own research and are not paid or sponsored.