Free Wine Pairing Chart: Printable Food Matrix

The chart

35 dishes across 9 courses, each with three safe pours and one worth taking a risk on. Every pairing carries the reason, because a chart you cannot argue with is a chart you cannot learn from.

Seafood

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Oysters	Muscadet. Bone-dry, saline, and lees-textured, it tastes like it was grown for the job, because it was. Champagne, Blanc de Blancs. The chalky acidity and fine bubbles scrub the brine and reset the palate for the next shell. Chablis. Steely, unoaked Chardonnay with an oyster-shell minerality that mirrors the plate.	Dry Fino Sherry. Salt on salt: the tang of flor-aged Fino turns a dozen oysters into a small ceremony.
Grilled salmon	Pinot Noir, lightly chilled. Salmon is a meaty fish; a silky, low-tannin red matches its weight without bullying it. Oaked Chardonnay. The wine's texture and gentle toast echo the char while the acidity handles the richness. Dry Rosé. Enough fruit for the fish, enough freshness for the skin, and no argument with any side dish.	Alsace Pinot Gris. Smoky, faintly honeyed, and built for salmon cooked over anything that burns.
White fish (cod, sea bass)	Albariño. Sea-spray freshness and stone fruit that flatter delicate flesh instead of drowning it. Vermentino. Herbal, citrusy, and light on its feet, made along coastlines for exactly this dinner. Picpoul de Pinet. The name means lip-stinger: its acidity does what a wedge of lemon does, but better.	Assyrtiko. Santorini's volcanic white brings a stony intensity that turns plain grilled fish serious.
Fish and chips	Brut Sparkling wine. Bubbles and batter are one of the great pairings: the fizz cuts the fry, every time. Chablis. High acid and zero oak slice through the grease and keep the fish tasting of fish. Dry English or Provence Rosé. Crisp and unfussy, it treats the mushy peas with more respect than they expect.	Cava, well chilled. All the scouring fizz of Champagne at chip-shop prices, which is exactly the spirit.
Prawns and shellfish	Albariño. Grown facing the Atlantic shellfish beds; its saline snap is the textbook match. Dry Riesling. Lime-blossom acidity that lifts sweet shellfish meat and shrugs off garlic butter. Provence Rosé. Pale, dry, and herb-tinged, it keeps pace whether the prawns are grilled or dressed.	Manzanilla Sherry. The coastal, salty cousin of Fino, poured cold it is prawns' oldest drinking partner.

Poultry

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Roast chicken	White Burgundy. Buttery bird, creamy-textured Chardonnay: the most reliable Sunday pairing there is. Pinot Noir. Light tannin and red-cherry fruit sit perfectly between the white meat and the roasting juices. Dry Chenin Blanc. Honeyed apple fruit with firm acidity, generous enough for the skin, fresh enough for the rest.	Mature Champagne. Toasty, mushroomy fizz with roast chicken is a sommelier's day-off dinner for a reason.
Chicken curry	Off-dry Riesling. A touch of sugar soothes the heat while racy acidity keeps the richness moving. Gewürztraminer. Lychee and spice meet coconut and cardamom head-on and somehow agree. Dry Rosé. Chilled and fruity, it cools the palate without competing with the sauce.	Demi-sec Vouvray. Chenin's honeyed side wraps around a creamy korma like it was written into the recipe.
Duck	Pinot Noir, Burgundy or Oregon. Duck and Pinot is canon: enough perfume for the meat, enough acid for the fat. Barbera. Low tannin and high acidity slice through crisp duck fat without scratching the flesh. Rioja Reserva. Mellow oak-aged Tempranillo meets roast duck's sweetness with savoury patience.	Off-dry German Spätlese. With duck à l'orange or five-spice, Riesling's sweetness is the sauce's secret twin.

Red meat

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Steak	Cabernet Sauvignon. Firm tannin binds to the protein and fat, and each softens the other bite by bite. Malbec. Argentina built its table around beef; the plush dark fruit is made for the grill. Northern Rhône Syrah. Black pepper and smoke in the glass echo the crust on a properly seared steak.	Aged Barolo. Nebbiolo's tar-and-roses austerity turns a rare rib-eye into an occasion.
Roast lamb	Rioja Reserva. Spain's oldest dinner-table marriage: savoury Tempranillo and sweet roast lamb. Left-Bank Bordeaux. Cedar-edged Cabernet blends have partnered lamb since the claret trade began. Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Garrigue herbs in the wine pick up the rosemary on the joint.	Xinomavro. Greece's answer to Nebbiolo, its dried-tomato savour is startlingly good with lamb.
Burger	Zinfandel. Juicy, brambly, and unpretentious, it meets ketchup and char on their own terms. Malbec. Soft tannin and dark fruit handle beef, cheese, and bacon without breaking stride. Côtes du Rhône. Peppery Grenache-Syrah warmth that treats a good burger like the steak it nearly is.	Lambrusco secco. Chilled, dry, and gently fizzy: Emilia's cure for rich meat works wonders on a cheeseburger.
Beef stew	Côtes du Rhône. Warm-hearted Grenache blends were made for slow-cooked, wintry pots. Chianti Classico. Sangiovese's acidity keeps a rich stew from feeling heavy across a whole bowl. Douro red. Dark, schist-grown fruit with the muscle to match beef cooked for hours.	Amarone. For a daube or oxtail, the dried-grape depth of Amarone is pure velvet indulgence.
Venison and game	Northern Rhône Syrah. Gamey meat and peppery, iron-tinged Syrah share the same wild vocabulary. Mature Burgundy. Aged Pinot's forest-floor perfume was practically invented for feathered game. Barolo or Barbaresco. Nebbiolo's grip and dried-rose scent stand up to the darkest game sauces.	South African Pinotage. Smoky and untamed, at its best it meets venison with matching wildness.

Pork

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Roast pork	Dry Chenin Blanc. Orchard fruit and bright acid do what apple sauce does, in liquid form. Beaujolais (Morgon, Fleurie). Juicy, low-tannin Gamay flatters pork's sweetness without smothering the crackling. Alsace Pinot Blanc. Gentle, creamy, and quietly confident alongside white meat and roast vegetables.	Dry Lambrusco. Chilled purple fizz against rich pork is how Emilia-Romagna has always done it.
Charcuterie	Beaujolais. The bistro classic: bright Gamay against cured fat and salt, endlessly refillable. Dry Rosé. Fresh, fruity, and neutral enough to run the length of a mixed board. Fino Sherry. Salty, nutty flor character that treats jamón and saucisson as family.	Chilled Poulsard or Trousseau. Jura's pale, savoury reds are the insider's charcuterie wine.

Pasta & pizza

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Tomato-sauce pasta	Chianti Classico. Sangiovese's acidity meets the tomato's and neither blinks, the definitive match. Barbera. Vivid cherry fruit with almost no tannin lets a simple marinara sing. Vermentino. If you want white, its herbal freshness handles tomato's sharpness gracefully.	Etna Rosso. Volcanic Nerello Mascalese adds a smoky elegance to the humblest bowl of penne.
Creamy pasta (carbonara, alfredo)	Soave or Gavi. Clean, quietly nutty Italian whites cut cream and cheese without clashing. Unoaked Chardonnay. Enough body for the sauce, enough acid to keep the third forkful as good as the first. Frascati. Rome pairs carbonara with its own hillside white, and Rome is right.	Franciacorta. Italy's serious traditional-method fizz treats guanciale fat as a solved problem.
Pesto pasta	Vermentino (Ligurian if you can). Basil, pine nut, and Vermentino grow within sight of each other; the match is geographic. Sauvignon Blanc. Green herbs in the glass shake hands with the green herbs in the bowl. Gavi. Discreet and citrusy, it refreshes without competing with the garlic.	Vernaccia di San Gimignano. Tuscany's saline old white gives pesto a mineral edge the usual suspects miss.
Margherita pizza	Chianti or young Sangiovese. Tomato, mozzarella, and Sangiovese are the oldest trattoria triangle. Barbera. Its juicy acidity loves tomato and its softness loves melted cheese. Dry Rosé. Does everything a light red does here, one degree colder.	Lambrusco secco. Fizzy, dry, and purple: pizza's most underrated companion outside Modena.
Mushroom risotto	Mature Pinot Noir. Earth with earth: aged Pinot's undergrowth notes deepen every spoonful. Nebbiolo (Langhe). Piedmont pairs porcini with its own grape; the truffle-adjacent perfume is why. White Burgundy. Creamy rice, creamy Chardonnay, and enough acidity to keep both honest.	Aged white Rioja. Nutty, savoury, faintly oxidative, it makes umami somehow more umami.

Spicy & aromatic

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Thai green curry	Off-dry Riesling. Sugar against chilli, lime-acid against coconut cream: the complete answer. Gewürztraminer. Its lychee-and-ginger exuberance speaks fluent lemongrass. Grüner Veltliner. White pepper and green herbs in the wine nod along with the basil and galangal.	Sekt or off-dry sparkling. Cold bubbles with a touch of sweetness turn the heat into a game.
Tacos al pastor	Dry Rosé. Bright fruit for the pineapple, coldness for the chilli, stamina for the third taco. Beaujolais, chilled. Gamay's juiciness matches pork and pineapple without arguing with the salsa. Albariño. Zesty citrus that behaves like an extra squeeze of lime.	Sparkling Rosé. Festive, cold, and faintly berried, it treats taco night with the seriousness it deserves.
Sushi	Champagne or Brut Sparkling. Clean fizz and raw fish share a coolness of register; wasabi only sharpens it. Dry Riesling. Precision against precision, with acidity in place of the pickled ginger. Grüner Veltliner. Its white-pepper snap flatters soy and keeps delicate fish delicate.	Dry Furmint. Tokaj's bone-dry side: smoky, precise, and quietly spectacular with tuna.
Middle Eastern mezze	Dry Rosé. Runs effortlessly from hummus to halloumi to spiced lamb kofte. Assyrtiko. Lemon and stone for the tahini and smoked aubergine. Beaujolais. A light chillable red that survives garlic, lemon, and char all at once.	Lebanese red blend. Bekaa Valley blends grew up next to this table; the spice-cedar warmth belongs.

Vegetarian

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Roasted vegetables	Grenache / Garnacha. Sweet roasted edges meet the grape's own ripe generosity. Dry Rosé. Flexible enough for peppers, courgettes, and whatever the oven decided. Grüner Veltliner. The rare white that genuinely likes green vegetables.	Etna Rosso. Smoke-tinged volcanic red for anything with proper char on it.
Mushroom dishes	Pinot Noir. The forest-floor grape; mushrooms are its home ground. Nebbiolo. Truffle-scented and structured, it makes fungi taste grander. Aged white Rioja. Savoury, nutty depth that meets umami as an equal.	Mature Champagne. Old fizz develops a mushroom note of its own; served with them it is uncanny.
Salads and green dishes	Sauvignon Blanc. Grass and gooseberry against leaves and vinaigrette, the classic daylight wine. Grüner Veltliner. Handles asparagus and artichoke, the two famous wine-killers, with ease. Picpoul de Pinet. Sharp, light, and cheerfully unbothered by lemon dressing.	Txakoli. Basque, spritzy, and briskly green: a salad's idea of a good time.
Lentils and beans	Côtes du Rhône. Rustic warmth for earthy pulses, the old French country lunch. Barbera. Acid-bright red that keeps a heavy dal or cassoulet-style pot lively. Mencía. Floral, stony, and juicy against smoked paprika and slow-cooked depth.	Dry Madeira (Sercial). With smoky lentils, its tang and walnut bite are a revelation.

Cheese

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Hard cheese (Cheddar, Comté)	Mature red Bordeaux. Aged Cabernet's softened tannin and a crystalline Cheddar meet in the middle. White Burgundy. Comté with mature Chardonnay is an Alpine marriage of nut and cream. Tawny Port. Caramel and walnut against salt and crunch: the after-dinner handshake.	Vin Jaune. Jura's walnut-sharp yellow wine with aged Comté is one of wine's perfect sentences.
Blue cheese	Sauternes. Roquefort and Sauternes: salt and honey, the oldest sweet-savoury proof. Vintage or LBV Port. Stilton's law: dark sweetness wraps around the blue sting. Late-harvest Riesling. Lighter than Sauternes but the same sugared logic, lovely with milder blues.	Sweet Oloroso Sherry. Fig, walnut, and salt-tang, it out-argues even a fierce Cabrales.
Soft cheese (Brie, Camembert)	Champagne. The fizz scrubs the cream; the toastiness flatters the rind. Unoaked Chardonnay. Orchard fruit and soft texture in quiet agreement with the paste. Beaujolais. If it must be red, low tannin is the only polite choice for bloomy rinds.	Dry cider, Normandy-style. Not a wine, and the region's own answer; with Camembert it is simply correct.
Goat's cheese	Sancerre. Chèvre and Sancerre share a postcode and a destiny; the acidity mirrors the tang. Sauvignon Blanc (Loire or elsewhere). Citrus and nettle freshness that keeps the cheese's chalkiness charming. Provence Rosé. A warm-weather stand-in with the same cleansing job description.	English sparkling. Chalk soils twice over: the cheese and the fizz both taste of it.

Dessert

Dish	Safe pours	Worth the risk
Chocolate desserts	Ruby or LBV Port. Dark fruit and cocoa are next-door flavours; the sweetness must match the pudding's. Banyuls or Maury. France's Grenache dessert wines are the sommelier's chocolate answer. Recioto della Valpolicella. Sweet, dark, and raisined, it meets a flourless torte at eye level.	Pedro Ximénez Sherry. Liquid raisin poured over the palate; with dark chocolate it is unapologetic excess.
Fruit desserts	Moscato d'Asti. Gently sparkling, low in alcohol, and orchard-sweet: summer pudding's best friend. Sauternes. Apricot and honey deepen baked fruit, tarte tatin above all. Demi-sec Champagne. Festive sweetness with enough fizz to keep pavlova feeling light.	Tokaji Aszú. Hungary's amber classic, its marmalade-and-saffron depth transforms apricot anything.
Cheesecake and creamy desserts	Sauternes. Botrytis honey against baked cream, richness answered with richness. Late-harvest Riesling. Its acidity slices the cream so the last bite is as easy as the first. Moscato d'Asti. A frothy, grapey counterpoint that never lets things get heavy.	Vin Santo. Tuscany's nutty amber dessert wine treats cheesecake like cantucci.

Most pairing charts are a grid of grape names against food categories, which is exactly the level of advice you can get from a supermarket shelf-talker. The useful part of a pairing is never the recommendation, it is the reason: once you know why Muscadet works with oysters, you can find the next Muscadet on your own.

So this chart carries the reason on every row. Three safe pours per dish, one that is worth the risk, and a sentence on what is actually happening between the plate and the glass.

The four rules underneath the chart

Match intensity first. A delicate dish loses to a powerful wine regardless of how clever the flavor link is. This single rule fixes more bad pairings than all the others combined.

Acidity cuts richness. Fat, cream, and fried food need a wine with enough acid to reset the palate. This is why Champagne works with fried chicken and why an oaked, low-acid white does not.

Tannin wants protein and fat. Tannin binds to both and softens on the palate, which is why steak and Cabernet became a cliché. Tannin against salt, chili, or oily fish goes the other way and turns metallic.

Sweetness has to win. The wine must be at least as sweet as the dish, or it tastes sour and hollow by comparison.

For a specific dish, the pairing finder is faster than scanning a chart, and the pairing guides go deeper on the ones people cook most.

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Common questions

How should I actually use a pairing chart?

As a starting point, not a rule book. Find the dish, take one of the safe pours if you want the evening to go smoothly, and take the risk column if you want to learn something. The reasons matter more than the recommendations: once you understand why acidity handles richness, you can pair a dish that is not on any chart.

What is the single most useful pairing principle?

Match intensity before you match flavor. A delicate dish is flattened by a powerful wine no matter how clever the flavor bridge is. After that, acidity in the wine handles fat and richness in the food, sweetness in the wine handles heat and sweetness in the food, and tannin wants protein and fat rather than salt and spice.

Why does my wine taste sour with dessert?

Because the food is sweeter than the wine. Sweetness in a dish strips fruit out of a wine and pushes its acidity forward, so a dry wine next to a fruit tart tastes thin and sharp. The wine has to be at least as sweet as the plate, which is the whole argument for dessert wine.

Does the chart cover difficult ingredients?

The awkward ones are asparagus, artichoke, raw egg yolk, vinaigrette, and anything very hot. They are difficult because they clash with most wines rather than because nothing works. In general, high-acid unoaked whites survive them best, and heavily oaked or high-alcohol wines survive them worst.

Is this the same data as the pairing finder?

Yes. The chart is generated from the same file that drives the pairing finder tool, so nothing here can drift out of sync with what the site tells you elsewhere.

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