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Which is that the Produce Market method, as lingua franca, simply does not work.
As anyone who has ever seen the lights of comprehension dim at the mere mention of lemongrass already knows, in terms of leaving a vivid and lasting impression the Produce Market method is about as effective, and makes about as much sense, as trying to describe a Renoir canvas by saying that it contains strokes of Cadmium Yellow, areas of Cobalt Blue, and hints of Venetian Red. Or that a Haydn symphony features notes from the clarinets, the violin section, and one or two french horns. Or, to use our original example, that you fancy your new Significant Other because she reminds you of the qualities you were attracted to in various Significant Others past. (Do not try this last one at home, by the way.)
Wine deserves better. It is a dynamic, individual, evocative kind of thing; and it wants a dynamic, individualized, evocative style of description. What is needed then is a way to talk about wine based on the overall impression it makes on us. A way of translating the fact that the particular taste of a wine is, like the sound of a symphony or the look of a painting, of a piece.

Which brings us back to our lady Chablis.

And how do we find her tonight? What is our impression of her? Immediately we note that her figure is slender rather than sensual, with kind of formal, finishing school posture, a focused expression, and a tense, almost nervy, and slightly distracted demeanor. This is not a woman who begins conversations with strangers sittings next to her. No, you will have to engage her. When you do, you will find that over the course of a conversation she will begin to open up (as she warms to the room), and you will discover that she is a fascinatingly complex woman. You may also notice that while she is not the youngest woman in the room she nonetheless seems to have gained, rather than lost, by the effects of time; a rare achievement among her peers (of the young Californian Chardonnay drawing such a crowd, you have your doubts). A woman like none you have ever met, at a certain point you begin to wonder if she might not be some sort of celebrity.

What we are describing here are aspects of appearance, personality, and to a certain extent character. Which is not a particularly new technique in wine. People have described wines as being brawny and austere and elegant and seductive for a very long time. And they have been mocked and teased and parodied for attributing personality traits to something we pour into a glass ever since.

And yet…

When we consider that the goal is for the person who knows what the wine tastes like to translate it in such a way that another non-native speaker will not only remembers it, but be able to use it in some functional manner (say, by distinguishing it from other wines of the same region or varietal), we come to the very basic idea that the complexity of appearance and personality is not only more reflective of the complexity of wines (to separate out flavors and aromas being a criminal disservice to anything in which harmony is synonymous with quality), but also far more memorable.

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