Let’s Talk About “Smooth”

It may be the most ubiquitous descriptor in drinks. Is it also the most reviled?

The Bordeaux-bred, Brooklyn-based spirits importer Nicolas Palazzi traffics in stories—of the alchemists along the river Charente, whose Cognacs capture the essence of the surrounding vineyards and microbiota; of the artisans in northwestern France, whose Calvados express the nuance of dozens of cider apple varieties via a single bottle. Palazzi’s company, PM Spirits, identifies itself as a “provider of geeky spirits.” Part of the job, indeed, involves geeking out, luxuriating in the details and conveying them to potential buyers. It’s an arrangement that hinges on dialogue, governed by the imprecise linguistics of wine and spirits. Descriptors and analogs form bridges to connect one’s palate and sensibility to another’s. But all it takes is one word to dissolve the connection entirely.

“If their reaction is, ‘Oh, that’s smooth,’ it just tells me that I probably have not identified my customer as well as I thought I had,” Palazzi tells me. “I’m not upset at the person saying ‘smooth.’ I’m upset at the waste of life—it’s basically a sign that says ‘You just wasted your time.’”

Harsh words for a word that literally signifies the opposite. But language matters. The lingua franca of booze is inherently nebulous, and it requires calibration. A trained nose and palate can instantaneously identify a range of aromas and flavors and free-associate memories and feelings, which all become pinpoints tracing a constellation, giving shape to a ghost. The term “smooth” effectively erases any point of reference. Even as an adjective, “smooth” functions as a verb: It is the buffing out of character, the sanding down of the distinctions that make great spirits great. In the quest to triangulate the specific qualities of a spirit, “smooth” instead forms a binary of acceptability. It is a value judgment on whether or not one finds the spirit drinkable, one that can easily be impressed upon an unwitting consumer. This is exactly why the term is so ubiquitous in the marketplace, and—for decades, if not centuries—a red flag among connoisseurs.