Mulled Wine: More Than Just a Winter Warmer
Cold air on your face, a busy town square, strings of lights over old stone. Somewhere nearby, a pot breathes citrus and spice. You wrap your hands round a warm glass, and the first mouthful does what central heating never can, it loosens the shoulders and sends a quiet glow from nose to toes.
Mulled wine seems simple. It is also a winter ritual, a social shorthand, and a small piece of global food culture once you look beyond the clove-studded orange.
Mulled wine is wine gently warmed with spices, citrus and a little sweetness, served hot through the colder months. The idea travels well.
Germany and Austria pour Glühwein. Across the Nordics, it becomes glögg or glögi, often richer and sometimes fortified. France serves vin chaud in paper cups at mountain markets. Hungary has forralt bor, Poland grzane wino or grzaniec, Portugal and Brazil vinho quente or quentão, Greece serves krasomelo with honey.
The names change, the impulse is the same: take the edge off the weather, gather people together, let wine carry comfort. But there is much more to it...
Mulled Wine Through History
Spiced wine is older than most of the buildings where we drink it.
The Romans wrote down versions of wine sweetened with honey and spiked with pepper, saffron, and herbs. Medieval Europe developed hippocras, a sweet spiced wine filtered through a cloth sleeve, served at feasts and praised by apothecaries who considered the spice as medicine as much as it was flavour.
In Britain, hot mulled drinks appear in wassail customs that bless orchards and households. Ale and cider often led the bowl, yet wine sat in the same family of warming, sociable drinks.
By the nineteenth century, the fashion turned festive in print and on the street. Victorian markets and parlours embraced hot spiced wine. Literature helped fix it in the winter imagination, not least the ‘Smoking Bishop’ that pops up in Dickens.
None of this was about hiding poor drink. It was about warmth, conviviality, trade with far places, and a little perfume in a hard, cold season.
Across Borders & Styles
Walk any December winter market, and you will surely spot a variation of mulled wine somewhere. German and Austrian Glühwein leans on cinnamon, clove, and orange peel. Ask for it mit Schuss, and you may get a discreet nip of rum or brandy folded in at the end.
Nordic glögg is often fuller and sweeter, sometimes fortified, and custom invites raisins and blanched almonds into the cup where they soak and plump as you sip. French vin chaud tends to be restrained and citrus-forward, a clean, bright style that suits a brisk walk back to the chalet. Central Europe likes generous spice and a honeyed touch.
In Iberia, you will meet vino caliente at winter fiestas, sometimes with a lick of anise. Brazil and Portugal stir in ginger, which gives a lively warmth. Greek krasomelo relies on wine and honey, with a light touch of spice. The UK borrows freely from all of the above, which is half the joy.
There is no single correct path, only a few principles that give the wine room to speak.
Avoid the Mistakes
Two habits spoil more batches than anything else. The first is too much heat. Wine wants to be warmed, not boiled. Gentle heat coaxes aroma and keeps the balance.
A steady steaming point is the aim, not a simmer. The second is heavy-handed spice or sugar. Spices are a seasoning. They should frame the fruit rather than drown it. Sugar rounds and smooths, but too much can flatten acidity and leave a cloying finish.
Contact time matters as well. Clove and long sticks of cinnamon give depth, yet if they sit in hot liquid for ages, they begin to throw bitterness. Whole spices help since they release flavour more slowly and cleanly. Citrus peel gives perfume without diluting the wine. A squeeze of juice at the end freshens the cup, though it pays to be sparing.
Follow these ideas, and the drink tastes like wine first and spice second.
Choosing the Wine
You do not need a trophy bottle; in fact, you definitely shouldn’t use your prized bottle of Château Pétrus or Le Pin to make mulled wine. You want a good quality wine you would happily drink on a Tuesday night.
Aim for fruit-forward reds with moderate tannin, little or no new oak, and a lively line of acidity. Merlot, Grenache, Tempranillo, Barbera, Bobal, and Dornfelder are safe bets.
If you prefer white, an off-dry Riesling or Chenin Blanc is lovely, especially with vanilla and cardamom instead of star anise. Dry rosé makes a refreshing pot when your crowd wants something lighter.
Whatever you pour, treat mulled wine as an enhancement, not a cover-up. The better the starting bottle, the better the mug.
Improving the Experience
There is nothing mystical about why a careful pot tastes better. Warm alcohol and water extract aromatic compounds from spices at different rates, so building flavour in a small amount of liquid before the wine goes in gives you control. Whole spices release oils without grit. Citrus peel contributes fragrance while avoiding the dilution and pith of wedges bobbing about. A tiny pinch of salt, barely enough to notice, can lift fruit in the same way it does in desserts. Rest matters as much as heat. Ten minutes under a lid allows flavours to settle and knit. You can taste the difference in the first sip.
Markets, Homes & the Modern Revival
Part of the charm is portability. Mulled wine thrives where glassware and ceremony would be a nuisance. Alpine terraces, ferry decks, carol services, school fairs with borrowed tea urns, pubs with steaming cauldrons by the door, winter weddings that need a welcome drink with heart. In many homes, it marks the beginning of the season as surely as the first mince pie.
Non-Alcoholic Alternatives
The ritual is easy to share with non-drinkers and children as well. A pan of spiced fruit juice, or non-alcoholic wine, sits neatly alongside the regular pot, and nobody feels left out.
A grown-up feeling, alcohol-free mulled drink is easy to pull off. Use good red grape juice, clear apple or pomegranate juice as your base, or even a 0% ABV non-alcoholic wine. Add a strong cup of black tea for tannin, then follow the same syrup-first method with peel and whole spices. Sweeten lightly, then balance with a spoon of red wine vinegar or a splash of verjus - a highly acidic juice made by pressing unripe grapes, crab-apples, or other sour fruit. Warm, rest, strain, and serve.
It smells like winter, and it feels like joining in, which is the whole point.
Mulled Wine: The Perfect Recipe
This method is tuned to bring out the best in the wine.
Use it as a base, then make it your own.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Time: about 30 minutes
Ingredients
- 750 ml fruity red wine
- 1 orange, peel in wide strips, plus 2 tbsp juice
- 1 small lemon, peel only
- 60g demerara sugar or clear honey
- 2 cinnamon sticks
- 4 whole cloves
- 3 allspice berries
- 2 star anise
- 4 green cardamom pods, lightly crushed
- 1 thin slice of fresh ginger
- Pinch of fine salt
- Optional finish, 60ml brandy or orange liqueur
Steps
- Make a spiced syrup. Put 150 ml of water in a saucepan with the sugar or honey, orange peel, lemon peel, cinnamon, cloves, allspice, star anise, cardamom, ginger, and a small pinch of salt. Simmer for 5 minutes to draw out aromatic oils.
- Add citrus juice. Stir in the orange juice and simmer 1 minute.
- Warm the wine gently. Pour in the wine. Heat until steaming, about 65-70 °C, with no bubbles. Hold there for 10 minutes. Do not let it boil.
- Rest and balance. Remove from the heat, cover, and let rest for 10 minutes. Taste. If it feels heavy, brighten with a teaspoon or two of lemon juice. If you want a richer finish, stir in the brandy or orange liqueur.
- Strain and serve. Strain into a warm jug and pour into heatproof glasses. Keep garnishes simple; a narrow strip of orange peel is enough. For a Nordic touch, add a few raisins and blanched almonds to each mug.
Variations
For white mulled wine, switch to an off-dry Riesling or Chenin, reduce the amount of sugar, add half a split vanilla pod, and leave out the star anise. For a softer, orchard-style pot, add a ladle of clear apple juice and a bay leaf at the syrup stage, then remove the bay before the wine goes in. For a lighter take, use dry rosé and swap the allspice for two lightly crushed pink peppercorns; strain after five minutes.
Serving & Small Details That Matter
Warm your mugs first with hot water, the way you would treat a teapot. Keep the pot covered when it is off the heat, so the fragrance stays in the pan. If you are hosting a crowd, a slow cooker set to low will hold temperature without creeping toward a simmer. Leftover mulled wine keeps for three days in the fridge. Warm gently to serve. Freeze any spare remaining in ice cube trays for quick sauces or to poach pears. Spent and dried spices will perfume a jar of caster sugar quite happily.
The Season to Taste
Mulled wine is cosy, yes, yet it is also a thread that runs through trade, medicine, celebration, and community. It carries spice routes and winter markets, the practical wish to warm people on cold nights, and the simple pleasure of sharing something aromatic and kind. Make it with care, and you taste all of that. You also get a drink that respects the wine in your glass.
From all of us at Cult Wines, warm wishes for the season. However you celebrate, and whatever you pour, may your days be restful and your evenings filled with good company. Raise a glass of something you love, mulled or not, make it a good one and share it with pride. Thank you for being part of our community. Here’s to health, happiness, and these small moments that bring people together. 🥂
