July 16th, 2008, 11 Comments »
I don’t drink. I did when I was a teenager, but that was mostly for show. I never really acquired a taste for alcohol. Plus, I’m kind of anhedonic. I’m not a teetotaller–go forth and drink up–it’s just not for me.
At various people’s urgings, I have, on occasion, tasted an alcoholic beverage. They mostly taste bad, but nothing tastes more foul to my virgin tongue than wine.
Of course, nearly everybody else loves wine. And that’s fine. I do find the snobby celebration of all things vino quite farcical. The frequent bollocks from wine producers, sellers and consumers gets kind of grating. Plus, I find that anybody who takes a single wine appreciation course becomes a confident assessor of the grape juice, and can hold forth at length about its ‘oaken, fruity frankness’ or whatever.
I’ve always imagined that it was just a twist of fate that made wine the most examined beverage in our society. Why not, say, orange juice? “My, the pulpy tang of this Valencia 2002 really sneaks up on you, doesn’t it?”
I can’t remember where, but I recently read a fantastic article about the moral superiority that now accompanies discussions of food and wine. Like, we’re better people because we eat organic chicken.
That’s a long, ranty introduction to this blog post entitled “How To Be A Snob: Drinking Alcohol” (thanks to Waxy):
Do not speak. Scent is pretty easy to verify, so if you guess wrong then everyone will know what a yutz you are. If someone ventures their own review as to what it smells like, frown as though you’re too busy concentrating on this intense bouquet to interrupt it with stupid words. This automatically gives you the edge, since as a conneisseur you know enough not to discuss anything until the full tasting is over.
I could follow these instructions, and just skip the drinking step.
UPDATE: Boris rightfully points up that this would be the perfect opportunity to pimp VinoCamp at UBC Botanical Gardens. He assures me that “it’s like wine tasting minus the snobbery…or something.”
11 Comments »
November 7th, 2007, 14 Comments »
Last night we were discussing snobby wine talk. For a few reasons, it’s one of my pet peeves:
- I don’t drink, so I can’t participate at all.
- It seems like anybody who’s taken three hours of wine tasting at the local rec centre speaks with the authority of a veteran oenophile.
- The wine industry has always felt like a bit of a sham. It’s built on these minute, subjective taste differentiations. If I tried to build an industry around the regional differences in orange juice, I’d get laughed out of the room.
Our conversation was inspired by this blog post concerning a couple of studies on wine tasting. You can add those studies to a growing body of science which debunks wine experts and affirms that the taste of wine is largely subjective.
I’ve been trying to think of the right metaphors for wine experts and connoisseurs. Are they like theatre critics and patrons of the arts? Sort of. I sound snobby and elitist when I discuss the set design of a recent play I’ve seen. I’ve got plenty of training and experience in the field to justify my pretension, but is that any better?
Then I thought of the fashion world. There seems to be a similar trendy, nearly baseless analysis going on when I watch Fashion TV (which, admittedly, isn’t often). And while styles come in and out of fashion, they’re just on a treadmill (or perhaps a spiral staircase). What was garish and repulsive ten years ago is now de rigueur. I’m not saying that fashion designers aren’t experts and craftspeople–I just find the argot of fashion as queer and subjective as wine talk.
Am I out to lunch? Or do I just need a glass of a nice chiraz with a great aroma of oak jousting with just a hint of cherry?
14 Comments »
October 23rd, 2007, 2 Comments »
I was doing a bunch of online research yesterday, and encountered a bunch of heretofore-unknown blogs. These five intrigued me for one reason or another:
- Full Bodied - Nice (wine) rack! Keep abreast of vintner trends! The A, B, Cs and double-Ds of wine culture! “Two hot fat chicks on wine and other good things in life.” Features reviews and photos of wine nestled in cleavage. I don’t drink, and I kind of think the wine industry is a big scam, but I’m sure plenty of others will dig the wine plus boobs strategy. Thanks to The Vancouverite for the find.
- Green as a Thistle - Vanessa is a journalist at the National Post, and is spending “an entire calendar year, doing one thing that betters the environment.”
- Kitchen Witch - This looks like a popular and witty blog. I like any blogger who frets over the gender of her chickens: “Pepper is still gender-indeterminate. Curses. Looks slightly different from Liquorice, but then it’s not as if they’re identical twin chickens, now is it? I continue to think henly thoughts, pushing all roosterish inclinations from my mind.” Mostly, I liked the total absence of a header graphic. The first blog post starts at the very top of the page–quite unusual.
- The Salvation Army of Canada - The Sally Ann has a pretty nice-looking blog. Who knew?
- Chinese in Vancouver - Way to pick a niche–it looks really interesting. I’m subscribed. I was amused to see this post about a creepy former Chairman in China’s ruling party.
2 Comments »
September 19th, 2007, 1 Comment »
We’re having breakfast on our back patio this morning, and I smell something odd. I say to Julie, “what’s that smell? It’s a bit like rotting fruit.” We speculate that possibly the gardener next door is using some fancy composting. I don’t for a moment consider that Gozo is full of vineyards.
See, it wasn’t the smell of rotting fruit. It was the smell of fermenting fruit.
Like so many Maltese farmers (of the full-on and hobby types) seem to, our neighbours a couple of doors down are making wine.
I’m often surprised at the variety of wines that come from Gozo–an island the size of North Pender Island, with a population of 28,000. There’s at least twenty in the shop (this photo from Rabat’s market shows 18). Plus, the house wines in restaurants are often unavailable from the shops–they’re sold directly from the farmer to the restaurant.
1 Comment »
