Wine writers notoriously embellish their wine reviews with adjectives, similes and metaphors so farfetched that, as a reader, one is left to wonder if they are even talking about wine, which is after all just fermented grape juice. Indisputably the master of fioritura and the most influential of wine critics is Robert Parker, creator and publisher of The Wine Advocate, a wine journal with over 40,000 subscribers worldwide.

The Wine Advocate, published every two months, is printed on beige, legal size paper, folded and stapled together in a no-frills format. The newsletter consists of in-depth reviews totaling approximately 500 per issue. Recently released wines are alphabetically listed by producer, grouped according to specific regions and given both a review and a rating. Private collectors and tradespeople avidly track these ratings, which often determine which wines will be bought and sold in the marketplace. The paragraph-length descriptions of wines are accompanied by a numerical score based on a 100-point system, e.g. 90 points equals A. The evaluations are based not on price but on how well a wine performs among its peers.

These scores can make or break the reputation of a wine. Parker’s wine reviews and ratings can catapult a little-known producer (or an entire region) into sudden stardom, causing prices to surge. Sadly, the scores create a belief in the mind of the consumer that sipping wine is a quantifiable experience. Some of my customers will only buy wines that carry a score of 90 points or better and will not glance twice at an unrated wine—too risky. What the customer does not always grasp is that these ratings are derived from the subjective experience of the reviewer of a given wine in a specific moment of time. The whimsical charm of wine beguiles our taste buds and, conversely, makes collecting something of a haphazard affair. Dependent upon a series of circumstances, such as age, serving temperature, glass size, food accompaniments and company present, the same exact wine will inevitably vary in taste over time, even within the hours of a single day.

Granted, wine expertise is well employed when predicting the development of a wine, or assessing the quality of winemaking. Conversely, when critics assign scores; when the fluidity of the senses diminishes to a number on the spreadsheet; it is then, I argue, that they falsely assert the superiority of their palates. When it comes to the immediate impression of taste, isn’t it obvious, that there can be no superior palate to one’s own?

Aside from the slippery slope of grading wines, there is the small matter of taste. Jay Miller, a writer for The Wine Advocate handpicked by Robert Parker, fires out seven comparisons in a row to describe the aromas of the much-sought-after 2006 Mollydooker “Carnival of Love,” which he awarded a whopping 97 points:

…The 2006 Shiraz “Carnival of Love” was sourced from a single vineyard. The sensational nose, consisting of violets, lilacs, meat, game, leather, blueberry, and chocolate, leaps from the glass…

Jay Miller may indeed detect “meat” and “leather” among the aromas of Mollydooker’s shiraz and find them appealing, but what about the wine novice who recoils at the thought of stumbling upon a delicatessen in one’s glass of fruity red? For seasoned wine connoisseurs whose veteran taste buds hunger for sensate variety, outlandish descriptions hold intrigue. They may relish the thought of a wine that is compared to, well, relish. Sweaty saddle, attic, asphalt, burnt rubber, buried mushrooms; wet earth, dirty socks, blood and, yes, even manure may charm the Riedel crystal off a crusty oenophile. However, chances are good that the budding enthusiast will move on in search of a wine that sounds a bit less confrontational.

Many wine shoppers find themselves overwhelmed by the vast choices in the wine market. In such a circumstance, that tangible score at the end of a review affords the average consumer pellucid direction. Ironically, the arrogant assumption that a wine can be scored, ultimately, does provide shoppers with a refuge from wine snobbery. The descriptions may be beyond the average consumer’s comprehension or patience, but ratings—now that is something we all can grasp. Look, this one got 91 points!

In contrast to the neatly printed summaries of the wine critic, my recommendations occur on the sales floor, in person, in the messy, confusing arena of face-to-face communication. Admittedly, I find myself relying on familiar, rather than specialist, vocabulary to talk about a wine. Often my descriptions peak the customer’s interest, but occasionally I get it wrong. For instance, once, while talking excitedly to a customer about a New Zealand sauvignon blanc, I blurted out, “This wine is like loading your mouth with freshly mowed grass!” His amicable smile dimmed and his eyes grew full of trepidation as he backed away towards an old favorite. Maybe the next time I’ll just keep it short and say, “Sir, here is your wine—it’s a B+.”

Unrated suggestion of the week: Largely overlooked by the ratings-crazed wine critics, lesser known wine regions can provide wines of complexity and value. Recently, I have enjoyed two unrated red wines made from the Nebbiolo grape of Italy. The 2003 Damilano Nebbiolo d’Alba and the 2004 Dessilani Spanna are both relative bargains at $15. The Piedmontese villages of Barolo and Barbaresco are famous for the most expensive examples of Nebbiolo, costing $30 and up. Other wines made from Nebbiolo that are not labeled with the name of the grape, but with the regional name include Spanna, Langhe, Gattinara and Ghemme.

Not unlike Pinot Noir, Nebbiolo makes a medium-bodied red wine with beautiful aromas—rose petal and white truffle are two common descriptors for its intense scent. Nebbiolo, similar to Chianti, is a versatile food companion. One of my customers, recently returned from Italy, suggests pairing Nebbiolo with a baked appetizer of gorgonzola-stuffed dates scented with fresh rosemary sprigs.

Paula Paradise is a wine consultant at Prime Wines in Kenmore. She is a wine educator and holds an Advanced Certificate from the Wine & Spirit Education Trust.