ROSEN: Stop slurring your words!

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

When my father moved from New York to Colorado, he hadn't quite gotten the hang of saying Byoona Vista and Mesa Virdie. Trying to find the eastern town of Limon, he summoned up his best French accent and asked a local, "Which way to Li-MON?"

Of all the things that keep us at arm's distance from wine - too many grapes, inscrutable labels, the certainty that everyone knows more than we do - one of the most daunting is pronunciation.

You'll avoid asking for a wine you're going to stumble over if there's an easier alternative. Even when you're right, some idiot waiters and store owners will correct you. I've been told to say Vwan-yay for Viognier (vee-oh-NYAY) and meri-TAHJ for the often-mispronounced Meritage, a hybrid of merit and heritage that sounds that way.

English, coming from a mishmash of languages, can be difficult. But at least it's permissible for foreigners to mess it up. Not so with us. Woe to the poor sucker who orders Poolly Fyoos when he wants Pouilly Fuissé (poo-ey fwee-SAY).

In Italian you pronounce everything you see. Trill your R's and start your tone high, swooping down to the accent. The only problem is where to put that accent: Who would expect TeROLdego, GarGANega, MalvaSIa? There are a few phantom letters, like the "H" in Falanghina (fah-lahn-GEE-na) and the "G" in Aglianico (ahl-YAH-ni-co). "I" is generally there to soften "C" or "G," not to be pronounced. As in Gioia (JOY-a) and Recioto (reh-CHOT-o).

German is impossible to pronounce. Nevertheless, it helps to know that "V" is pronounced "F," as in Veltliner (felt-LEE-ner), and "W" is pronounced "V" as in Zweigelt (TSVAI-gelt). Then there are those two dots, the umlaut, which tells you to treat a nice rounded letter like "o" or "u" as if you were picking up a handkerchief filled with someone else's sneeze matter. Examples: Grner (GREEUW- ner) and Mller (MYEW-luhr).

In French, the "R" also comes from the throat, but that's the least of your problems. While Italy's Lachryma Christi di Vesuvio, for example, looks intimidating at first, if you take it one bite at a time you can actually chew it quite well. Where do you start, though, with Meurseault?

Like this: merh-SO. Why all those extra letters? Once upon a time they were pronounced, but spelling doesn't always keep up with spoken language, leaving French full of sounds that disappear between the page and the lip. Like in Chassagne-Montrachet (cha-SSAN[ye] mon-rah-CHAY), which you'd know how to say if you could afford it.

There's a nasal sound in French that I render "(n)," where you think "N" but don't quite say it. As in Cinsault (sah[n]-SO) and Saint Pourain (sah[n]-poor-SAH[n]).

French is fraught with vowel sounds we find impossible or at least silly. Try pursing your lips and twirling your mustache as you say Condrieu (co[n]-dri-UH) and Puligny (pew-lee-NYEE). Remember that silent "E" in Italian? Works the same in French, as in Clos de Vougeot (clos de voo-JO).

Some words are easier than they look: Côte-d'Or is merely "coat door." Brouilly, Rouilly and Pouilly all rhyme with "fooey." The same L's appear in Pauillac (poy-yak).

In case you're not humbled enough already, along come Greece and Hungary. Popular Greek grapes include Rkatsiteli (r-kats-i-TELL-ee), Assyrtiko (ah-SEER-tee-ko), Agiorgitiko (ah-yor-YEE-ti-ko) and Moschofilero (mos-ko-FEE-le-ro). Hungary offers us Hárslevelu (harsh-LEH-vel-yu) and the famous Tokaji Aszú (TOKE-eye-ee AH-soo) as well as the mother of all unpronounceable grapes: Cserszegi Fuszeres (chair-SAY-gee foo-she-raish).

Some wines are embarrassing when you can pronounce them. Try ordering Italy's Bastardo or Negroamaro. How about French chateaux Nakad, Nausicaa and Nodoz? Not to mention La Clape and Crépy.

But don't be discouraged. There are plenty of wines that are just plain fun to say. Like Germany's Knipser. Or Italian wines Squinzano and Locorotondo. And my favorite wine word, which can make you feel better if you shout it a few times, letting the spit fly: Trockenbeerenauslese (TROH-ken-BAY-ren-OUS-lay-za)!

Recommended

SPARKLING

• Segura Viudas Creu de Lavit Xarel-lo Penedes 2004 (Spain), $15

WHITE

• Craftsman Cserszegi Fuszeres Neszmely 2005 (Hungary), $10

• Boutari Moschofilero 2004 (Greece), $13

• Délas Frères Clos Boucher Condrieu 2000 (France), $15

• Pazo de Senorans Albariño Rias Baixas 2005 (Spain), $22

RED

• Les Jamelles Cinsault Vin de Pays d'Oc 2005 (France), $9

• Georges Duboeuf Grand Cuvée Flower Label Brouilly 2002 (France), $11

• Boutari Naoussa Xinomavro 2000 (Greece), $12

• Château Haut Bages Libéral Pauillac 2003 (France), $34

DESSERT

• Royal Tokaji Wine Co. Tokaji Aszú 5 Puttonyos (Hungary), $30

Jester@corkjester.com