What is Mulled Wine? History, Types, and the Unique Flavor of a Winter Beverage

For over two thousand years, hot spiced beverages have accompanied people during the coldest months of the year. They've passed through centuries, crossed continents, evolved in dozens of European regions, and finally arrived here—in a Gdańsk restaurant where noble wine meets our passion for detail.

A warm alcoholic beverage created when wine meets heat and spices in perfect harmony. A temperature of 140-176°F creates the ideal conditions where alcohol hasn't yet evaporated, but aromas are already exploding. Too cold—and flavors remain locked in the wine. Too hot—and everything delicate dissolves into steam.

The foundation is wine: red for intensity, white for lightness. Add citrus slices of orange, which release essential oils under heat. Cloves add that characteristic, slightly bitter-sweet note. Cinnamon wraps everything in warmth. Honey or sugar balances the wine's acidity. And all of this together, after fifteen minutes of gentle heating, creates a new beverage.

The differences between mulled wine and regular wine aren't cosmetic—they're fundamental. We taste wine cold or at room temperature, focusing on its characteristics: minerals from the soil, fruits from the grapes, and oak from the barrels. Mulled wine is something completely different. Heat breaks down the structure of tannins, alcohol carries spice aromas, and sweetness masks what might be too sharp in the wine.

It's like comparing a fresh apple to apple pie. The same ingredients, completely different experience.

The texture changes, too. Good wine is light, clean, and often acidic. Mulled wine becomes thicker, almost oily from honey, embracing the tongue like a warm blanket. After good mulled wine, a long, warming finish remains—the effect of cinnamon and ginger stimulating heat receptors in the mouth.

The history begins over two thousand years ago in the Roman Empire. Chef Apicius recorded a recipe for "Conditum Paradoxum"—using eleven pounds of honey per quart of wine, adding saffron, pepper, roasted date pits, and mastic. Romans heated this mixture in a special vessel called "autephsa." This was a drink for the elite.

The true culture of drinking mulled wine was born in the Middle Ages. During the Crusades, recipes traveled from southern to northern Europe. In cold countries, heating alcohol made simple sense—it warmed you up.

In 14th-century France and Spain, "hippocras" appeared—named after Hippocrates. Medieval doctors prescribed hot wine as medicine for colds and weakness. The problem? Spices were expensive—a gram of cinnamon cost as much as a pound of meat. Therefore, mulled wine was a symbol of social status.

In Poland, the first mentions appear in Hanseatic cities—Gdańsk, Elbląg, and Toruń. German merchants brought Glühwein, but Poles added honey instead of sugar. The tradition of winter sleigh rides always ended by a fire with a cup of heated spiced wine.

Only in the 19th century, when spices became accessible, did mulled wine democratize. In Sweden, they created "Glögg," and in Saxony, August von Wackerbarth experimented with "Glühwein." Today, European winter customs associated with mulled wine are the foundation of winter culture from Berlin to Bergen.

If you walk through a Christmas market in Cologne, you'll hear: "Ein Glühwein, bitte!" In Stockholm, you'll order: "En kopp glögg, tack!" In Paris, you'll ask for: "Un vin chaud, s'il vous plaît!" The same idea, the same spices, but each country created its own interpretation.

At the German "Weihnachtsmarkt," the aroma of Glühwein mixes with the smell of grilled sausages and gingerbread. The base is red wine—usually Dornfelder or cheap Merlot—heated with sugar, cinnamon, cloves, and orange slices. They serve it in ceramic mugs with the city's name, which tourists take as souvenirs (for a 2-3 euro deposit).

In Austria, they sometimes add rum, creating a stronger version called "Jagertee." In Bavaria, you can find "Feuerzangenbowle"—a spectacular variant where a sugar cone soaked in rum burns over a pot of wine.

Swedes, Norwegians, and Danes prepare Glögg differently. To red wine, they add not only standard spices but also almonds, raisins, cardamom, and sometimes even port or aquavit for strength. They serve it in small cups with a spoon for fishing out soaked raisins and almonds.

These hot drinks were created for a climate where winter means only a few hours of daylight. In Swedish homes, Glögg appears as early as Advent, drunk by candlelight with gingerbread cookies. You don't drink this standing up—it demands time and becomes a ritual worth savoring.

The French version is more refined. They use wines from Beaujolais or Côtes du Rhône, add brandy or orange liqueur (Grand Marnier), and less sugar than the Germans. The result? Less sweet, more wine-forward mulled wine, where you still feel the wine's character.

In Alsace, closer to the German border, Vin Chaud is more like Glühwein. But in Paris or Lyon, it's a more subtle beverage, often served in cafés as "apéritif d'hiver"—a winter aperitif.

The English have drunk Mulled Wine for centuries. In "A Christmas Carol," Charles Dickens describes "Smoking Bishop"—mulled wine with port, cloves, and roasted lemons —which Scrooge offers his clerk.

The British version often contains brandy or sherry, and is sweeter and stronger than its continental counterparts. At Christmas Markets in London or Edinburgh, they serve it in plastic cups—less romantic than in Germany, but just as effective against the cold.

In the Italian Alps, in Trentino and Alto Adige, Vin Brûlé is standard après-ski. After a day on the slopes, there's no better way to warm up. Italians use local red wines, add lots of orange peel, and sometimes grappa.

In northern Italian cities, Vin Brûlé appears at markets but has never achieved the popularity it has in Alpine countries.

Our national tradition combines German influences with local customs. Polish mulled wine, especially in southern regions, contains honey, linden, buckwheat, or wildflower. This creates a different sweetness than sugar—more complex, with floral notes.

During winter sleigh rides in Zakopane or the Beskid Mountains, mulled wine was served from fires, often strengthened with plum brandy. The culture of drinking mulled wine in Poland is also a tradition of gatherings by the fire, singing carols, and storytelling.

The first question that comes up at the bar: "Red or white?" This decision will change the entire taste experience. It's not a matter of better or worse—it's a matter of mood, moment, and what your palate needs.

When most people think of mulled wine, they picture a deep, ruby liquid in a ceramic mug. Red wine is the foundation of winter beverages served for centuries. Merlot, Pinot Noir, Tempranillo, and Syrah—all these varieties tolerate heat well.

What happens when heat meets red wine? Tannins—those compounds that give cold wine a bitter, astringent taste—become gentler, more velvety. Aromas of dark fruits—plums, black currants, cherries—intensify. Alcohol carries these notes straight to your nose, even before you drink.

Red mulled wine has body, has weight. You feel this heated drink in your stomach—enveloping, embracing, almost nourishing. Ideal for a freezing evening when you return from a long walk and need immediate warmth.

At Secret Room, our Berry Port Mulled Wine represents this classic line—red wine fortified with port, with raspberries and cherries. This is mulled wine that doesn't apologize for its intensity. Rose & Pomegranate is a more delicate version, where floral notes of rose balance the power of red wine.

White wine in mulled wine is a relatively new trend that has exploded in recent years. Why? Because some find red wine too heavy, too intense. White gives breathing room.

Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, Riesling—these wines change differently under heat than reds. They don't have strong tannins, so the result is lighter and more refreshing. Instead of dark fruits, you get notes of apple, pear, and citrus. Instead of an embrace, you get lightness.

White wine loses some of its subtle mineral notes after heating—that's true. Therefore, it requires stronger spicing. More ginger, more citrus, sometimes mint or lime. The effect? Mulled wine that heats you as effectively as red but tastes more like aromatic tea with alcohol.

The differences between mulled wine and wine are most visible here. White wine drunk cold provides minerals, acidity, and refreshment. White wine has a warm, sweet, spicy, velvety texture.

You'll find two white versions on our Secret Room`s menu. Mandarin Honey Warm Wine is sunshine in a cup—mandarins and honey create a sweet-tart harmony. Pear & White Wine is an even more subtle proposal, where pear gives that characteristic, honey-like sweetness without overwhelming.

Rosé wine in mulled wine is a compromise between red and white. Grenache and Zinfandel—these varieties produce light, fruity wines with delicate color. After heating, they retain the fruitiness of reds but without their weight. The result? Strawberry-currant mulled wine that tastes like compote from childhood..

Mulled wine with tea? Yes, it works. Brewed Earl Grey or Lapsang Souchong added to red wine gives smoky, complex notes.

Mulled wine with a citrus explosion? Lemon, lime, grapefruit, and orange—all together with mint create an almost lemonade-like effect.

Spicy mulled wine? Fresh chili, pink pepper, ginger—for those who want warming to be literal.

Apple juice, dark grape juice, and cranberry juice—each can be a base. The same spices: cinnamon, cloves, star anise. The same process: gentle heating, no boiling. The result? A beverage that, in a dark cup, is indistinguishable from its alcoholic brother. Warmth, aromas, sweetness—it's all there.

Non-alcoholic mulled wine isn't an "inferior" mulled wine. It's simply a different category of warming beverages for those who are driving, pregnant, or simply prefer to avoid alcohol that evening.

Mulled beer was popular in the Middle Ages and remains a curiosity today. Porter or stout beer heated with honey and spices delivers a malty-spicy flavor.

Mulled cider serves as the apple-based cousin to mulled wine. Naturally sweet, lower in alcohol, yet equally satisfying on cold nights.
Mulled mead follows Slavic tradition. Dwójniak or trójniak heated with herbs offers a honey-forward alternative.

For centuries, mulled wine was predictable: red wine, cinnamon, cloves, and orange. But recent years have brought a revolution in winter beverages.

Mandarins, lychee, passion fruit—these tropical ingredients bring a sweet-tart contrast with spicy seasonings. At Secret Room, we focus on mandarins in Mandarin Honey Warm Wine—their sweetness is more delicate than oranges, almost floral.

Pomegranate is another hero of modern variations. In our Rose & Pomegranate Infusion, pomegranate balances the sweetness of rose.

Rose, hibiscus, lavender, elderflower—ingredients that turn mulled wine into a drinkable perfume. Rose petals with red wine create sensual, oriental compositions. Hibiscus provides ruby color and tartness. Lavender becomes soothing, lightly minty.

Fortifying mulled wine with noble alcohol has become today's finesse. Port adds sweet, caramel notes. Brandy brings the strength of cognac. Caribbean rum provides vanilla depth. Our Berry Port Mulled Wine exemplifies this—port is a full-fledged ingredient, not an addition.

Cardamom delivers citrus-minty notes like in chai. Pink pepper adds slightly sweet, fruity spiciness. Bourbon vanilla turns mulled wine into liquid crème brûlée. Freshly grated nutmeg brings nutty depth.

Pear in November, quince in December, apples in January, cranberries in February. Restaurants change ingredients depending on availability.

Pear & White Wine at Secret Room is a tribute to this philosophy. Pears have their season—late fall and early winter. That's when it's sweetest, most juicy. Pear syrup combined with white wine gives delicate, honey-like sweetness without heaviness.

Go down a few steps below street level in downtown Gdańsk. Enter a space where light is dimmed to a level that makes you want to speak more softly. Feel how the temperature—a few degrees warmer than outside—immediately embraces you. This is the Secret Room.

We're not a typical restaurant. We're not a typical bar either. We're a lounge—a place where you come not only to eat or drink but above all to stay. The atmospheric interior with comfortable, moderate lighting creates a space where time flows differently. Here we create a new culture of relaxation—a philosophy that eating and drinking are experiences, not just satisfying needs.

Our menu combines European classics, Asian WOK flavors, and street food. But in winter, our mulled wines become the real stars. We spent months perfecting recipes, testing proportions, searching for ideal wines and cordials. The result? Five compositions, each telling a different story.

White wine—light, dry, with good acidity—serves here as a backdrop for the real stars: mandarins. We don't use concentrates or artificial syrups. Real mandarins, sliced, release their oils under heat.

Citrus cordial—homemade reduction of lemons and oranges—adds an additional layer of acidity. Linden honey softens and balances. Spices—Ceylon cinnamon, not that cheap cassia, star anise, a touch of vanilla—create a warm base.

The result? A beverage that tastes like light captured in a glass. Sweet, but not overwhelming. Tart, but not sharp. Warming, but light. This is mulled wine for those who usually say, "I don't like mulled wine, too heavy." It's a winter drink that works as well in December as in March.

Red wine, but not typical. We choose wines with distinct notes of red fruits—cherries, raspberries, currants. These are wines that even cold have a floral character.

Damascene rose petals—dried, not fresh—we add in the final heating phase. This is a delicate ingredient that can quickly become soapy if you overdo it. We found the ideal point: enough to sense roses in the aroma, but not enough to dominate.

Pomegranate changes everything. We add these ruby seeds whole, letting them burst in the hot wine. Pomegranate juice is tannic, slightly bitter, and very tart. It's what balances the wine's sweetness and rose petals.

Citrus cordial—again—brings freshness. Spices are minimalist here: only cinnamon and cardamom. Anything else could dominate the delicate interplay between flowers and fruits.

This is an elegant, refined, unconventional mulled wine. It's a warm alcoholic beverage for an evening for two, for a conversation that lasts hours, for a moment you want to remember.

Pear is an underrated hero of winter desserts. It has that unique property of being sweet, but not obviously so. It's a delicate sweetness, slightly honey-like, with a hint of vanilla.

We start with white wine—this time, we choose something light-bodied, maybe with a hint of oak, like Chardonnay. Pear syrup—homemade from real Conference or Bosc pears—adds that characteristic, almost floral sweetness.

Citrus cordial brings contrast. Lemon and lime prevent the drink from becoming one-dimensionally sweet. Spices? Minimal. Cinnamon, vanilla, maybe a touch of ginger. All so the pear can shine.

The texture of this mulled wine differs from the others. Pear creates a slight stickiness, almost velvet. This goes beyond a "drink"—it becomes more of a "nectar." This is mulled wine you sip slowly, savoring each taste.

This is a proposal for those who value balance. Not too sweet, not too tart, not too heavily spiced. The golden mean of modern variations.

This is for those who came for intense experiences. Red wine—full, tannic, with character—is only the beginning. Tawny port, dark, sweet, with notes of caramel and nuts, is the second pillar.

Raspberries and cherries—fresh in season, frozen in winter—we add generously. We don't skimp. These fruits, under heat, explode with juice that colors the wine an even deeper ruby.

Cherry cordial—reduction of cherries with added sugar and citric acid—intensifies fruitiness.

The result? Mulled wine that doesn't apologize. Strong (port is about 20% alcohol), sweet, rich, fruity. This is a beverage you must drink slowly, or it will overwhelm. This is mulled wine for an evening by the fireplace, for deep conversations, for moments that require full attention.

This is the most traditional of our proposals, but executed at a level you won't find at a market.

Can't decide? Take all four.

The tasting set is our pride. Four glasses, enough to know the character of each mulled wine, not too much to overload. We serve them on a wooden board, with decorations matching each variant.

You start with the lightest—Pear & White Wine Blend. Move through sunny Mandarin Honey. Explore elegant Rose & Pomegranate. Finish with powerful Berry Port.

Each glass offers a complete experience that goes beyond simple consumption. The collection helps you discover which mulled wine matches your preferences. Each of us has different tastes, different sweetness thresholds, and different intensity tolerance. The collection reveals these personal preferences.

At Secret Room, we don't use ready-made spice mixes. We don't buy "mulled wine in a bottle" that just needs heating. Each ingredient is weighed, each proportion perfected. We choose wines specifically for each variant. Fruits are fresh or from the best frozen. Honey comes from local beekeepers.

But most importantly, we treat mulled wine seriously. Not as a menu addition, not as a seasonal promotion. As a full-fledged part of our Gdańsk restaurant that deserves the same attention as cocktails, wines, or dishes from the menu.

Because if you're going to make mulled wine, make it well. Or not at all.

How to distinguish perfect mulled wine from mediocre? It's not obvious, especially if you're drinking for the first time in the season. But there are specific signs that reveal quality. After years of testing hundreds of versions—from tacky market stalls to exclusive restaurant ones—we know what to look for.

• Temperature

Suppose the cup burns your hands—too hot. If lukewarm—a crime. The ideal serving temperature is 158-167°F. Cup warm, but not painful. Too hot mulled wine (above 176°F) loses alcohol and aromas. Too cold closes flavors. At Secret Room, we serve at the perfect moment.

• Aroma

Good mulled wine hits with aroma at half a meter. But it's not a uniform smell. Its layers: warmth of alcohol, sweet cinnamon, spicy cloves, fresh orange. Bad signs? Dominant cinnamon (overdone), sharp alcohol (too hot), chemical smell (essences instead of natural ingredients).

• Taste

The first sip of ideal mulled wine is a journey.

Act One – Sweetness: Hits the tongue. This should be pleasantly sweet, but not overwhelming. If, after the first sip, you feel like you're drinking concentrated syrup—bad. If you feel pleasant warmth and delicate sweetness—good.

Act Two – Acidity: Appears on the sides of the tongue. Orange, lemon, sometimes pomegranate—these ingredients add freshness. Without them, mulled wine is heavy and bland. With them, it becomes alive.

Act Three – Bitterness and Spices: This is the finale, the long finish. Cloves give a slight bitterness. Cinnamon stays on the palate. Ginger stimulates heat receptors. This finish should last—quality mulled wine lingers after you swallow. It stays with you for a minute, two, sometimes longer.

• Texture

Mulled wine should never be watery. Quality versions have body, weight, and a velvety texture from honey. The best winter drinks flow like delicate oil, leaving a light film—not sticky, but noticeable.