I happened to have found myself at a corporate event (the one where I began thinking about what sort of eulogy I would receive from you good folks….turns out only one of you guys was planning on coming there to say how disappointed they were in me) and we had a ‘wine-tasting’ workshop. At the end of it, I have this to say – Any drink that involves procedure beyond ‘Pour/Make – drink’ is just not worth one’s time. I’ve always been fascinated by these wine-tasting fellows who smell the wine, swirl it in their glasses, hold it up to the light to check for a blue tinge, gargle a little, then spit it out and say, ‘ It’s quite clear that the wine-maker has invested a lot of love into these grapes. The wine actually tastes like grapes, which is kind of ironic because that’s what it’s made from. The slightly sour taste indicates that the wine maker was running bare-naked in his own fields after which he decided to get into the vat to stomp these grapes to give it that aromatic earthly smell combined with the salty taste of feet sweat . I do however sense a certain organic taste which can only come from the poop of the Thalassarche melanophris( aka the brown Browed albatross) which means the grapes were grown in the South of France. The wine is a great adjunct with other southern dishes namely idli-sambar or bisibele bath. The more adventurous can look to complement the wine with a fine bowl of Avial. Robert Louis Stevenson was right when he said ,”Wine is bottled poetry”. This wine is one of those fine wines. Allow me to quote some poetry of my own,” Rub a dub dub…a rubber ducky in the tub… soapy bubble cover my toy sub” .
While this sounds great and all high-society types, the truth remains that there is nothing like a good old scotch whiskey….or a beer. Sometimes both….at the same time. Lol….no, I kid, I never mix scotch with anything. Keep it simple, just pour them in a glass, or straight out of the bottle, whatever you like and drink. No smelling them, gargling them, contemplating how you are reminded of a cool summer night’s breeze….all rubbish. Wine is just too much work. Just not worth one’s time. And you cant go wrong with scotch or beer…they suit all food groups. If ever I happen to go out with a girl, I hope she’s classy but hates wine. Otherwise, most of my evenings are going to be spent beating my self wondering what wine goes with what food group. And there is no way she’s going to enjoy Purple Haze on wine. Imagine if she was like Karen from HIMYM. Sheesh! The horror….
Waiter asks,” Order sir?”.
I say,” Jack Daniels large, with coke and a lot of ice”.
Waiter,” And for you ma’am?”.
She,” Well, I’ll have a glass of Bordeux…make it a 78.”
Waiter,” No madam…we don’t have that.”
She,” What about a Châteauneuf-du-Pâpe?”
Waiter stands there wondering how to spell that.
She,”Ugh…what an unclassy place. We’re through. If you can’t bring me to a place that offers a half decent bordeux, there’s not point in being together. Find some urchin who shares your taste.”
Anyway, long story short. I think wine tasting is too exaggerated as an art. I doubt I’m going to appreciate the finer aspects of wine-drinking. Call me uncouth and uncivilized, but there’s got to be an easier way to appreciate this wine business. And quite personally, if you don’t know anything about wine, it’s best to let someone else decide what to pick. Or else, order a beer. You really can’t go wrong with beer. Or best, stick to water.
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