| As a drug dealer, a pusher man of wine, I view the rising tide of anti-alcohol sentiment with dismay and alarm. I am old, but not old enough to have witnessed either the birth of the Temperance movement in the early 19th century or Congress passing the 18th Amendment in 1919, so I do not know whether this sentiment is a blip or a long-term, secular trend. Tremendous anxiety once again attends the act of drinking wine, and this makes me sad, as this generational shift means people will forgo what I consider to be one of life’s great pleasures. There are a great many things to fret about today, and wine at least offers an imaginable way out. Here we are, denizens of a big city, breathing in not the cleanest air, traveling to and fro inside metal boxes with an actuarial probability of maiming one another, yet convinced that alcohol, once again, is Lucifer in hiding. Folklore regarding sulfur in wine abounds amongst us natural wine shills, while the human body produces about a gram of it each day, forgetting that the rationale behind the “contains sulfites” warning on wine labels is a gift from a grotesque, stone-cold racist who thought nothing must get between us and our Lord. We lose sight of the golden rule of moderation in everything except moderation, amid the blooming, buzzing confusion, while we also lose sight of the potential health benefits of having a glass or two of wine. We rarely consider the neuroprotective function of moderate wine drinking and instead focus strictly on the negatives. By this I mean the brain-preserving act of spending time with friends in a relaxed space, not a third place, where, with the aid of a bit of wine, we discuss everything that matters in life.
The Greeks of antiquity had this all figured out with their symposia. Lord, they had dedicated drinking rooms in their homes, and dedicated klinai, couches designed to relax, drink wine, often equipped with an armrest to comfortably hold a cup of wine. The idea here was to hang out with a group of friends, lounge together, have a snack, and drink wine that had been watered down, diluted, with the goal not of getting shitfaced, but instead, slowly lit over a period of hours, during which your inhibitions might temporarily dissolve, and you could discuss everything that matters in life.
You might try to duplicate this by drinking wine spritzers, wine diluted with seltzer, with friends, though it will not be quite as effective unless you are ambitious and provide your guests with individual couches and a ride share at the end of the evening. And yet, the holidays are approaching, an opportunity to, albeit in a deracinated way (sometimes, the old ways are bad ways, and I’ll pass on the practice of schtupping a slave), approach what the Greeks knew.
This week’s tasting focuses on wines that are consummately gastronomic; wines that you might pair with a wide range of holiday feasts. Mostly low-ABV, quiet wines that speak softly and do not carry a big stick. Wines that facilitate conversation, rather than blare their importance. We are starting with a light Slovakian wine, either a pale red or dark rosé, made from blaufränkisch and (gasp!) cabernet. Next, a wine from the Dalmatian coast of Croatia, made from a cofermentation of the local lasina and plavina varieties (and merlot, gasp!). To follow, a pale Alpine red from one of our favorite growers in Italy’s Südtirol, mostly vernatsch, with a dash of lagrein blended in To finish, a pale, perfumed wine made from the rustic Piemontese variety grignolino, often made into tannic wines, but here, not so much, and then a spectacular, nervy red from the Canary Islands. |
