Of Wine and Other Pleasures

Whether shopping online or browsing the local Binny’s, I love to read the descriptions people give to various wines. Mostly it’s because I’m intrigued that they can get all of those flavors and aromas out of the wine.  Apparently I don’t really have that discriminating a palate. 

Frankly, most of the time, the best I can do is pick up a hint of one or two of the descriptors.  But there’s one universal truth.

I know what I like.

And I pretty much know from the very first sip.  It doesn’t really matter at all about the price tag of the wine either.  I’ve had some absolutely delightful bottles for well under $10 and I’ve regretted some significant purchases, too.  I think what I’m most in awe about is how different the same type of wine can be.

I can pick up a carton of grape juice and it pretty much doesn’t matter what the brand . . . grape juice is grape juice.  It pretty much all tastes the same.  But pick up a Cabernet Sauvignon from vineyards next to each other and the wines can be radically different.

The French have a term, terroir, to describe some of this. Perhaps the best translation I’ve come across is that it describes the vine’s “sense of place.”  But this sense of place only describes a part of the differences.  I think that more of it lies in the hands of the craftsman known as the winemaker.  Instructions given to the field workers can radically alter the unique characteristics of various wines.

Obviously the type of grape and the varieties added to blend with the main varietal all play a role.  And that’s where the skilled winemaker comes into play.  That’s why I try the small to mid-sized producers and when I find a wine that I like I tend to branch out to other wines that they make. 

Just the other day I was watching a great Woody Allen film, Midnight in Paris, and there was this scene where this one pompous individual was describing a wine at a tasting. I’ve been in tasting rooms where there’s this one individual making his pompous pronouncements about the quality of the wines.  As it turned out his assessments were, shall we say, not on target.  It happens all the time in tasting rooms around the country.  I’ve felt a little out of place at times wondering if I was out of my element. 

Well . . . I probably was.  A friend who drinks wine but who isn’t what one would call a connoisseur recently spent some time in Napa.  They felt intimidated by all the people around them who were making a big deal about the “nose” and the “chewiness” of the wines.  It made them want to not be there and frankly that’s a shame.  

But that’s not the point.  Wine isn’t something that should be just for the rich and famous.  It should be for everyone.  It makes me wonder how those folks working in the tasting room can deal with this day in and day out.  Personally, I’d toss their pompous backsides out of the tasting room.

There’s something inherently pleasurable sitting in a street side café drinking a glass of house wine (that turns out to be something pretty good and reasonably priced) watching the world as they go about their business.  Sharing it with friends exponentially increases the pleasure.

And that’s why I love Monday’s @ Mark’s.  It’s the sharing in the richness of life with good friends where you can watch their surprise at noticing the difference between an average bottle of wine and a really good one. 

Before I go for this week, I want to challenge you to do just that.  Open up a bottle of your favorite wine and put out some tasty appetizers or just go with the old standby of some delightful cheeses and really crusty bread and share them with some friends.  Relive some of the good times you’ve shared together and just relish the joys found in life and friendship.