I was inspired to make this the Word of the Week by a dear friend of mine who came home from a Sun Valley ski trip to with a case of Idaho wine. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a wine from the state better known for potatoes. I asked him what sort of wine it was, and he said, “I got mixed case of chardonnay, merlot, syrah, cabernet, and cuvée.”

Because he invited me over for my virgin Idaho wine experience, I forgave my friend his minor lapse in parallel structure. He had implied that that cuvée was a varietal, like chardonnay, merlot, syrah, and cabernet, but it’s not.

What is it then, and how did that Idaho wine taste? Click here to find out: More

Today’s wine word comes to you by way of Matt (pictured here with me), the national sales manager at Larkmead Vineyards, who, during a recent visit to the tasting room, described one of Larkmead’s reds as having “riparian” earth notes. The adjective describes the green belt next to a river or stream, so we’re guessing that Matt was describing a wet earth, even mossy note in the wine, a 2003 cabernet-based blend called “Salon.” It may sound weird, but so-called secondary characteristics like this, in measure, are very prized among some tasters and some winemakers, especially if they’re going for Bordeaux dead ringers.

I spotted this word in the November 15 issue of “Wine Spectator”: it describes the crime of letting a wine age too long before you drink it. It’s vinocide when, for example, you buy a lively sauvignon blanc from New Zealand’s latest vintage — and then forget about it in your closet for two years, where it fades and expires. When opened, it’s lost its tangy, zingy flavors of lime and grapefruit. The mandated minimum sentence for vinocide is an evening of disappointment and (if you brought this over-the-hill Burgundy as a housewarming gift) embarrassment. Bring a backup.