From Magnum to Solomon: How to Remember Wine Bottle Sizes

Because “big, bigger, biggest” was apparently too easy.

There are certain pieces of wine knowledge that refuse to stay in my head.

I can remember grape varieties, appellation rules, ageing requirements and obscure bits of Tuscan wine history.

But ask me whether a Salmanazar is bigger or smaller than a Balthazar and there is a very good chance I’ll stare blankly into the middle distance.

And frankly, I suspect I’m not alone.

Wine bottle sizes start innocently enough. There’s the standard 750 ml bottle, then the Magnum, which holds 1.5 litres, the equivalent of two bottles.

Easy.

Then somebody apparently decided that simply calling the next ones Double Magnum, Really Big Bottle and Please Get Two People to Lift This lacked poetry.

And so we enter the world of Jeroboams, Rehoboams, Methuselahs, Salmanazars, Balthazars, Nebuchadnezzars and Solomons.

Yes. Those are really their names.

And most of them have Biblical connections.

First Things First: The Useful Ones

Before we disappear down the Biblical rabbit hole, there are really only a few bottle sizes most wine drinkers are likely to encounter regularly.

A standard wine bottle is 750 ml.

A half bottle, sometimes called a demi, is 375 ml.

And then there is my personal favourite:

Magnum - 1.5 litres

2 standard bottles

This one is easy.

Magnum basically means BIG.

And a Magnum somehow feels instantly celebratory. Somebody arriving at dinner carrying one should therefore be assumed to have excellent judgement.

Or at least excellent intentions.

Why All the Biblical Names?

Once bottles become seriously large, the names start sounding less like wine terminology and more like the guest list at an ancient royal banquet.

That’s because many of them are named after kings, patriarchs and other figures associated with the Bible.

Exactly why this tradition began is less clear.

The names started appearing on large wine bottles centuries after the Biblical figures themselves, and there doesn’t seem to be one wonderfully tidy historical explanation for why each particular name was chosen.

The simplest possibility is also probably the most convincing: grand names for grand bottles.

Methuselah. Balthazar. Nebuchadnezzar.

They certainly sound more impressive than Bottle Size Number Seven.

Using the Champagne system, which gives us one of the clearest sequences, the progression looks like this:

And Then Things Get Biblical

Once bottles become seriously large, many of their traditional names are taken from kings and other figures from the Bible.

Exactly why this naming convention began isn't entirely clear. The most likely explanation is simply that these wonderfully grand historical names seemed suitably imposing for enormous bottles.

Which, admittedly, is more fun than Bottle Size Number 7.

Using the Champagne system (which gives us one of the clearest sequences) the progression looks like this:

Name	Size	Equivalent
Standard bottle	750 ml	1 bottle
Magnum	1.5 L	2 bottles
Jeroboam	3 L	4 bottles
Rehoboam	4.5 L	6 bottles
Methuselah	6 L	8 bottles
Salmanazar	9 L	12 bottles
Balthazar	12 L	16 bottles
Nebuchadnezzar	15 L	20 bottles
Solomon	18 L	24 bottles
Souverain	26,25 L	35 bottles
Primat	27 L	36 bottles
Melchizedek / Midas	30 L	40 bottles

Thirty litres.

That’s 40 normal bottles of wine in one bottle.

At that stage I’m not entirely sure we should call it a bottle anymore.

Possibly furniture.

Rebecca’s Highly Unscientific Way of Remembering Them

I have tried memorising the list before.

It hasn’t worked.

So instead, I think we need characters.

Imagine an increasingly ridiculous royal wine party.

MAGNUM

1.5 L — 2 bottles

The easy one.

Magnum = BIG.

He arrives first, carrying enough wine for dinner.

JEROBOAM

3 L — 4 bottles

We’ll call him Jero.

He’s the first of the strange Biblical characters to arrive.

The important thing to remember is simply:

Jero comes first.

REHOBOAM

4.5 L — 6 bottles

Then Jero brings Reho.

These are the confusing brothers.

So don’t try too hard.

Just remember:

Jero first. Reho second.

3 litres → 4.5 litres.

METHUSELAH

6 L — 8 bottles

This one is much easier.

Methuselah is the famously very old man of the Bible.

So picture Grandpa Methuselah arriving next, walking stick in hand.

He’s old.

He’s important.

And apparently he’s brought eight bottles’ worth of wine.

Grandpa has come prepared.

SALMANAZAR

9 L — 12 bottles

Now things begin sounding properly royal.

Salmanazar is the name traditionally associated with several ancient Assyrian kings.

So this is where our little dinner party officially becomes a royal banquet.

BALTHAZAR

12 L — 16 bottles

Balthazar is probably the easiest name to associate with a character, because tradition gives that name to one of the Three Wise Men.

So imagine Balthazar arriving bearing gifts.

Unfortunately his gift is a 12-litre bottle.

Which weighs considerably more than frankincense.

NEBUCHADNEZZAR

15 L — 20 bottles

Then comes Nebuchadnezzar.

The great Babylonian king with the enormous name.

And this is probably my favourite memory trick:

Monster name = monster bottle.

Fifteen litres.

Twenty standard bottles.

And if you can confidently say Nebuchadnezzar after drinking all twenty of them, you have my deepest respect.

SOLOMON (or Salomon)

18 L — 24 bottles

And just when you thought Nebuchadnezzar surely had to be the end of it...

Meet Solomon.

Eighteen litres.

Twenty-four standard bottles.

This one has suddenly become particularly relevant because we actually came across an 18-litre bottle of Brunello while out on a wine tour in Montalcino.

And there is something wonderfully different about seeing one in real life.

On paper, 24 bottles sounds impressive.

Standing next to one, you realise it is less a wine bottle and more a small piece of cellar architecture.

So our slightly ridiculous procession becomes:

Magnum → Jero → Reho → Methuselah → Salmanazar → Balthazar → Nebuchadnezzar → Solomon

Will this get you through a Master Sommelier exam?

Possibly not.

Will you now be slightly more likely to remember them at dinner?

I hope so.

But Wait. Wine Couldn’t Possibly Make This That Simple.

Of course not.

Because the names change depending on where you are and what kind of wine we’re talking about.

In Champagne, a Jeroboam is 3 litres and a Rehoboam is 4.5 litres.

But Bordeaux uses some different terminology. A 3-litre bottle is commonly called a Double Magnum, while a 6-litre bottle can be called an Imperial rather than a Methuselah.

So just when you’ve finally memorised the names...

wine changes the rules.

Naturally.

For sanity’s sake, if you want to learn one sequence, the Champagne system gives us a reasonably neat one to work with.

Why Do Bigger Bottles Age Differently?

Apart from looking magnificent, larger bottles can also be very good for ageing wine.

The important thing is the relationship between wine and oxygen.

A Magnum contains twice as much wine as a standard bottle, but it does not contain twice as much oxygen beneath the closure.

That means there is proportionally less oxygen exposure for the amount of wine inside.

As a result, wines in larger formats generally evolve more slowly and gradually than the same wine in a standard bottle.

So a Magnum isn’t simply twice as much fun.

It can also be a very good format for a wine you intend to keep.

There is, of course, another important difference.

Opening a standard bottle says:

Would anyone like some wine?

Opening a Magnum says:

We are celebrating something.

Opening a Nebuchadnezzar says:

Cancel tomorrow.

Opening a Solomon says:

Cancel the weekend.

How Big Can They Get?

If you thought our 18-litre Salomon was the end of the madness, I’m sorry.

It isn’t.

There are even larger named formats, including the 26.25-litre Souverain, 27-litre Primat and 30-litre Melchizedek or Midas.

A 30-litre bottle contains the equivalent of 40 standard bottles.

At that size, pouring becomes less of a sommelier skill and more of a team-building exercise.

And beyond those, enormous novelty and record-breaking bottles have also been produced.

At which point I think we can safely stop memorising names.

So What Do You Actually Need to Remember?

Probably not all of them.

If all else fails, this is my survival guide:

Magnum = big.

Jero before Reho.

Methuselah = the very old guy.

Balthazar = Wise Man bearing gifts.

Nebuchadnezzar = monster name, monster bottle.

Solomon = 18 litres and 24 bottles (because apparently Nebuchadnezzar still wasn’t big enough.)

Wine is full of names, rules and traditions that can initially feel unnecessarily complicated.

But usually, somewhere behind them, there’s a story.

And if I can finally remember whether a Salmanazar comes before or after a Balthazar, then this entire exercise will have been worth it.