A man goes through many stages in his life; the pre-adolescent tree climbing, den builder; the angsty adolescent with bad acne riding his surfboard on the giant hormone wave; followed by the late-teen punk or cock-a-snoot cool guy, cigarettes, girls, denims and little else besides.
Eventually, all these guises are to be superseded by the career-driven yuppie with money and mortgages on his mind. Such is the way of the world.
One thing that never changed with me however, despite the haircuts and the musical tastes, is how much I liked red wine (never been a fan of white). Being Italian, I grew up knowing that a dinner at the table without a bottle of wine was as incomplete as Joanie without Chachi. A meal was made or lost by the wine that washed it down.
Therefore, I couldn’t enjoy a meal without a glass of red wine.
My grandmother used to insist upon telling me that wine “gave you blood”. It’s an Italian saying which is to be interpreted literally in meaning – a glass of wine adds a shot of blood to your system. Blood being the elixir of life, you can gauge the importance of a tipple.
But there my interest with wine ended. I try and keep things simple, so knowing I liked red and knowing I didn’t like white, was the extent of my knowledge.
I preferred it that way – the reality is that I’d love to be impassioned about wine and know what I’m talking about but, like many people, I never knew who to turn to for advice.
My ignorance was a comfort blanket from facing this dilemma.
Which is why the world of wine tasting always struck fear into my bosom.
My ignorance was a comfort blanket from facing this dilemma.
Which is why the world of wine tasting always struck fear into my bosom.
All that changed recently, when I had the opportunity to spend some time with someone who could distinguish the apples in a dry white and taste the oak in a red. This chap would make recommendations such as ”chilled fino is the best all-rounder sherry on the market” and sound like he knew what he was talking about. Opening up his world to mine, and using plain English, I began to understand, slowly, the nuances of wine. I began to relax and appreciate it. I became comfortable around grapes and barrels and the process of wine-making easier to comprehend. (for those Italians out there, you may share a childhood memory with me of seeing an uncle or your own father even, squashing grapes using his feet – the traditional method of wine pressing – which may account for the large-scale conversion of Italian 20-somethings from wine to lager).
Understanding wines requires meticulous research, a knowledgeable insider to show you the ropes, a patience to sit through waffle and an ability to spend many an hour sniffing and gargling wine and not actually drinking it.
At times it felt like scaling Dante’s layered Heaven trying to get at the summit.
Enjoying wine, however, is less taxing. It's a case of picking a vintage you like and if it's good enough, sticking with it.
After decrypting the jargon and finally getting an opportunity to drink, I did discover that there is a wealth of information out there for the non-cognoscenti from books to the ubiquitous Google search to help you out.
With barbecues and dinner dates to go on, choosing a good wine is important. A bad wine can sour a good meal, so with the maxim “white for fish, red for meat and champagne for hot tubs” I’ve discovered a few sites which list some decent vino for you to enjoy (bear in mind, these lists change yearly).
Grab a few off the list, stick them in your wine rack and come party time, deliver the killer bottle with a knowing smile. Easy peasy. Things that from a distance appear difficult, are quite simple close up.
Here’s the Observer list of great vintages for 2007.
And for those interested - a history of wine is available to read on Wikipedia:
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