Oi, Oi! It’s Jake Botcher - Cockney Sommelier and all-round wine geezer.
Welcome to my proper wine feature at Indelible Wine Stain
"What’s All This Then?" with me, Jake Botcher.
Let’s be frank - it’s about bloody time. They were havin’ a right laugh, weren’t they?
Here is where I ‘ave a proper butcher’s at the la-di-da lingo we winers like to chuck about and tell you what’s actually goin’ on with ‘em.
This time, we’re diving into Barnyard.
That earthy, animal whiff you sometimes get in a glass of wine.
Now, when some fella lifts his Burgundy to his nose and goes, “Mmm, classic barnyard there, mate,” well, I can’t help but think back to me Uncle Alfie’s pig farm, just outside London.
See, as a nipper, I spent me summers there, helping out while Uncle Alfie had business meetings with guests. Funny thing was… these dodgy blokes always showed up in the back of an unmarked van - often escorted in by some of Alfie’s handymen. Never saw one of ‘em drive up on their own.
Uncle Alfie was big on hospitality. In fact, you could say he inspired me to get into the service industry. He always took care of his visitors - one way or another.
That place had a smell you’d never forget - earthy, musky, a bit ripe, but wouldn’t knock you flat. And funny enough, you’ll find some of those same aromas in a glass of proper good wine.
A Brief History of the “Barnyard” Descriptor
Now, let’s go back a bit. Way back to the good old days.
People think “barnyard” is a modern wine term, but it could’ve been knocking about since the 17th century - as a positive descriptor.
Here’s the kicker - back then, barnyards actually smelled better than the streets.
Picture it: 1600s Europe
No plumbing. No sewage systems. No shame.
People flinging bedpans full of last night’s ale and mutton stew right out the window. Splish! Splash! Splosh! A proper ploppy mess right on the pavements.
The streets were rivers of human aromas, mixed with the odd dead horse for extra complexity. Compared to that? A barnyard was practically a perfume counter.
Think about it - fresh hay, warm animals, a bit of leather, some natural aromas…compared to the alternative, it was practically countryside bliss.
It’s not hard to imagine some 17th-century wine whiffer, sniffing at his goblet and going, “Ahh, a touch of barnyard, delightful!” while outside, some poor sod was stepping knee-deep in a right ol’ two-and-eight.
So, back in the day, “barnyard” might’ve been a right proper nod. A sign your wine had rustic charm rather than, say, a waft of London’s open sewer system.
So, what’s in a Barnyard Anyway?
A barnyard’s got a very particular smell - one that, for some reason, certain wines like to imitate. Let’s break it down:
Manure & Wet Hay
That rich, slightly sweet but mostly rank stench? Comes from Skatole and P-cresol, which are found in both animal droppings, human sweat and some old-school Burgundy. Fancy that.
Damp Soil & Mushroom
Like walking through Epping Forest after a downpour or opening up a sack of spuds your nan swore were fresh but have gone a bit soft round the edges…like my cousin Marvin. Well, that’s Geosmin, a compound also found in truffles, which is why wine buffs get all misty-eyed over it. It’s also sensitive to humans and camels, which is how camels can find an oasis in a desert.
Animal Sweat & Leather
That musky, gamey whiff you get when a racehorse thunders past ya? That’s 4-ethylphenol, courtesy of our old mate Brettanomyces.
(see my friend, Dr. Wine Stain’s article for more on this)
A Hint of a “Wrong-un”
Sometimes, it’s a bit sour, like spoiled milk. That’s 4-ethylguaiacol, another Brett byproduct that gives off smoky, spicy notes - or makes your wine taste like it’s been fermenting next to a cow-patting competition.
So, next time you hear someone say, “Ahh, classic barnyard,” don’t panic.
A touch of smelly pig farm can be interesting - like a used leather jacket, a well-aged cheese, or a wine article on barnyard descriptors, narrated by a cockney sommelier.
Until next time, mind how ya go and don’t be a mug.
TTFN,
Jake
