In the special features of the movie “Paris, Je T’aime,” which I recommend to anyone who loves Paris, the filmmakers Joel and Ethan Coen are being interviewed about their short piece in the movie (which is made up of vignettes by various directors). Many of the other directors and actors who contributed to the movie are also being interviewed, and at times they are heard saying “Paris, Je T’aime,” which, if you didn’t know, means “Paris, I love you.”
When it’s time for Ethan Coen to say the title of the film out loud, he demurs. Over and over he demurs, obviously sheepish about his francais. Finally, sitting next to him, his brother, Joel, blurts out the title followed by an eye roll, as if to say, “What’s the big deal — just say it, even if it’s not parfait.”
But we’ve all been in Ethan’s spot. We’ve all recognized words that either we haven’t heard anyone say out loud and don’t know what they are supposed to sound like, or we know generally how they’re supposed to sound but can’t quite get our mouths to perform the acrobatics necessary to make it happen.
I’m thinking of several street names in Berlin, a lifetime of appetizers on all manner of Asian takeout menus and about half of the place names in Wales. Take a stab at “Cwm” and “Caersws” before you move on to what could be the longest place name on earth: “Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.” It’s real. Obviously I wouldn’t make up something like that. Even the shortened version is hard to imagine saying: “Llanfairpwllgwyngyll.” I don’t know about you, but I would have trouble with just the first syllable “Llan.” Wait, is that only one syllable?
Some fairly common wine words can be tricky to say, too. Below are what we can call the “Top 40.” (Because there are 40 of them, not because you’ll hear them on pop radio stations.) These are words, in somewhat random order, that you may have encountered on bottles or wine lists, or in books, and although some might look familiar, they’re not as easy to identify and say as “hors d’oeuvres.” The only reason that one’s easy is we’ve all heard it said about 1,300 times. Imagine looking at those words for the first time, though, without knowing how they sound. It’d be enough to make a person clam up a la Ethan Coen — or give it a shot and get it comically wrong.
Foreign languages have their subtleties but these phonetics will get you solidly in the ballpark.
Sommelier. A person dedicated to wine service is a saw-muhl-YAY — not a suh-MAH-lee-ay.
Mourvedre. The red grape variety is moor-VEH-druh.
Sauternes. The legendary dessert wine from the Bordeaux region of France is soh-TEHRN.
Tokaji aszu. The legendary dessert wine from Hungary is toh-KAI ah-SOO.
Botrytis. The fungus that causes noble rot, allowing for wines such as Sauternes and Tokaji aszu, is boh-TRY-tis.
Methode champenoise. Making sparkling wine the way they do in the Champagne region of France, via secondary fermentation in the bottle, is may-TOHD shahm-pehn-WAHZ.
Aglianico. The red grape from southern Italy is ahl-YAHN-ee-koh.
Mosel. The most important German wine region is the MOH-zul.
Albarino. The white grape is ahl-buh-REEN-yoh in Spain, and in Portugal, where it is spelled a little differently (Alvarinho), it is al-vuh-REEN-yoh. Fine line.
Rias Baixas. The Spanish wine region in Galicia is REE-ahs BI-shas.
Txakoli. The fizzy wine from Spain’s Basque country is CHAH-koh-lee.
Vinho verde. The lightly effervescent wine from northern Portugal is VEEN-yo VEHR-deh.
Cinsault. The red grape variety is SAN-soh.
Pinotage. The South African grape variety that is a cross between pinot noir and cinsault is PEE-noh-taj.
Meritage. Bordeaux-style blends that are members of The Meritage Alliance can carry the word MEHR-ih-tihj on their labels. Don’t over-French it; it rhymes with “heritage.”
Cahors. The wine region in southwestern France famous for its malbec is kah-OR.
Carmenere. The red grape that is common in Chile is kahr-meh-NEHR.
Maipo Valley. Chile’s most famous wine region is Mah-EE-poh.
Gewurztraminer. The white grape variety is guh-VURTS-truh-mee-nuhr.
Gruner veltliner. Austria’s most important white grape variety is GROO-nur velt-LEEN-ur.
Carignan. The red grape variety is kah-reen-YAHN.
Trentino-Alto Adige. Italy’s northernmost wine region is tren-TEE-noh AHL-toh AH-dee-zhay.
Languedoc-Roussillon. The wine region in southern France is lahng-DAWK roo-see-YAWN.
Loire. The wine region in western France that is home to Pouilly-Fume (POO-yee FOO-may), Chinon (shee-NOHN), Sancerre (sahn-SEHR) and Vouvray (voo-VRAY) is the LWAHR.
Viognier. The white grape variety is vee-ohn-YAY.
Cote d’Or. The most esteemed part of France’s Burgundy region is the koht DOR.
Cote-Rotie. The wine region in France’s northern Rhone Valley is koht roh-TEE.
Chateauneuf du Pape. The wine region in France’s southern Rhone Valley is shah-toh-noof doo PAHP.
Willamette Valley. Oregon’s famed wine region is wil-AM-it — not WILL-uh-met. Remember the frustration-laced rhyme: “It’s Willamette, damn it.”
Paso Robles. The wine region in California’s Central Coast is PASS-oh ROH-bulls.
Sur lie. When a wine is allowed to stay in contact with its dead yeast cells to develop more flavor it has been aged soor LEE.
Barolo. The “king of Italian wines” is bah-ROH-loh.
Terroir. The specific environment in which wine is grown and produced, and its expression of that place, is tehr-WAHR.
Phylloxera. The tiny insect that attacks grapevine roots is fil-AHKS-uhr-uh.
Vitis vinifera. The beautiful wine that we enjoy comes from the vine species VEE-tis vin-IF-uh-ruh.
One more thing. If you were wondering what that long Welsh place name translates to, here it is: “St. Mary’s Church by the white aspen over the whirlpool and St. Tyllio’s Church by the red cave.” Just don’t ask me how to pronounce it.
About the Author
