Word ‘garrigue’ describes fragrances in a glass
Many moons ago, when I was in the early days of this column, my editor reached out about a word that I frequently used enough that it might be worth working in a little extra explanation: garrigue. It has taken a little while, but here we are.
It’s not a wine term, per se, but it’s part of my personal wine vocabulary because it’s one of my absolute favorite flavors in red wine, one of my favorite expressions of terroir. No single word in English translates precisely, but it loosely relates to the smell of the hot summer air in southern France, which is filled with the aromas of the wild vegetation that dots the hillside. It’s an aromatic combination of lavender, juniper, thyme, rosemary and sage.
The French word “garrigue” has its roots in the ancient Occitan language, which is still used by a few hundred thousand native speakers across the Mediterranean coasts of Spain, France and Italy. Interestingly enough, the Occitan alphabet doesn’t include the letters K, W and Y, which makes me wonder how a native Occitan speaker would order a glass of whiskey.
Garrigue is derived from the Occitan term “garric,” meaning “holm oak” or “kermes oak,” and the term historically only referred to the rugged, rocky terrain covered with low-growing, aromatic vegetation, typically dominated by these hardy trees. Over time, the term expanded to encompass the entire Mediterranean scrubland ecosystem, characterized by a variety of fragrant plants like thyme, lavender and rosemary, and the wine world has co-opted the term even more. The word has become synonymous with the distinctive landscape of the Provence region. Its etymology reflects the deep connection between language and environment, capturing the essence of the arid, sun-soaked terrain that defines the picturesque southern French countryside.
If you don’t anticipate finding time in your week to (literally) sniff out the nuances of the French countryside, that’s alright. I’ve encountered a similar aroma while hiking through the arid deserts of southern Utah, and you can always open a jar of Herbs de Provence to take an olfactory flight to France.
Of course, my favorite way to experience garrigue is in a glass. You’ll find in many of the region’s red wines, a lovely floral bouquet coasting along on the tops of bright red and black fruit notes. The region’s most widely planted grapes — grenache, mourvedre, and cinsault — have an almost transportive effect. Close your eyes, take a sip, and feel the breeze above the Côte d’Azur.