So much for me making fun of the industry’s absurd eno-neologism. I’m officially co-opting GLUG with the enthused approval of 38 winos who were introduced to the recession-vanquishing 4 ounce pour. More than a taste, less than a glass — it’s a glug.
On Tuesday — with genuflecting gratitude to Cafe Soleil — a crowded room enjoyed some awesome summer wines from the Loire and Languedoc (see Tasting Notes for details). This was my first wine tasting (well, from behind the table). Everyone who attended was generous with their compliments, enthusiasm and patience. This post is for you — a thank you note for making the evening so much fun.
Aside from a generous pour (and yes, I got nice feedback about that), I was testing a few other concepts. Given the event’s format, it was tough to share my thinking with everyone, so please obliged me:
While I love wine, I’d rather drink it than deconstruct it.
Laura, Bill, Drew and Nancy compare notes.
When I was researching these wines, I came across countless descriptions of color, smell and taste. At best, these thought leaders drilled down descriptions to remarkable specificity (“bergamot” and “mouse cage” may have been my favorites); worse, there were conflicting descriptors (one person’s “lit match” was another’s “white flower”). I put all of these terms into the tasting glug notes, giving you the option of circling those that resonated with you and providing space for your own “expert opinion.” Feel free to post your comments to the blog.
I appreciate the passion of wine enthusiasts to share their drinking-experience-in-the-moment with the rest of us; these descriptions can be helpful when you’re looking to pair a wine with dinner or buy a case of something you’ve never had before. Then again, some of their waxing reminds me of Willy Wonka’s gum scene:
VIOLET: Madness! It’s tomato soup! It’s hot and creamy. I can actually feel it running down my throat! It’s delicious! And every chew [sip] gets better and better! Mmmm…this sure is great soup [wine]. Hey, second course is coming up! Roast beef and a baked potato! Mmmm.
MR. BEAUREGARDE: With sour cream? (He laughs.) What’s for dessert [How's the finish], baby?
VIOLET: Dessert [Finish]? Here it comes. Blueberry pie and cream! It’s the most marvelous blueberry pie [2002 Kilikanoon Shiraz Covenant] that I’ve ever tasted!
MR. BEAUREGARDE: Holy Toledo, what’s happening to your face [teeth]? Your face is [teeth are] turning blue! Violet, you’re turning violet, Violet!
Fitz and Kevin a-Gris...the Fontsainte is tasty.
An eno-insider told me that the highest praise you can give a wine is to say, “it doesn’t suck.” Or — when it does — you say something equally meaningful. Case in point: Raz, was at a big industry event in France many years ago. She was shadowing a California winemaker who didn’t speak French. The wine elite sat at a round table. They swirled their wine glasses. Plunged their nose down there and inhaled deeply:
“Le vin sent le cul.” (This smells like ass.)
“Mes voisins le cul odeurs comme ce vin.” (This smells like my neighbor’s ass.)
And so it went around the table, each adding his own awkward familiarity with the village people’s derrières. Among their own, wine people call it like it is, in simple, understandable terms. Maybe we should too. Or as Elvis would say, “a little less conversation, a little more action [glugging].”
Social media and social drinking can be a great way to make friends and influence an industry.
Blogs are an excellent way to connect with other people who love wine. While I respect the expertise of trade journalists and their point rating systems, they are just a pay-to-play guide. Do any of us (the glugging proletariat) really understand the nuance of plus or minus one point on a hundred point scale? It’s positioning. It’s marketing. It’s an enabler (and yes, shamelessly touted in my blog as well). I think we can do better.
When they're not saving the world, Amy and Jonathan like a good glug.
Glugfests (and frankly, this blog) strive to spur conversation — a discussion of wines and other things that connect us. I hope Tuesday was the first of many journeys we’ll take together. In the interim, let’s keep this conversation going by posting comments in the Tasting Notes — including what kind of wines you’d like to glug at upcoming events, venues (including your own home if you’ll have us), your favorite “house pour”, etc. In the interim, I’ll keep reading about HTML codes and try to set up a bulletin board or something to facilitate a better exchange (but don’t hold your breath). Oh, Drew…
For those who courageously came alone or struck up a conversation with a stranger: good for you. This week, I saw friends I haven’t seen in eons — Kurt, Bob, Deanne, Prosser, Charlie — friends I met at a wine tasting nearly a decade ago (oh wine, you delicious social lubricant).
Barbara and I mull the Muscadet.
Lastly, absent and sorely missed, was our friend Raz who — recouping in a hospital bed in Iran — was pulling the strings (and a few stiches) to organize this tasting and selecting the wines we enjoyed so much (shhh, don’t tell Ahmadinejad). The good news is, she’s on the mend and will swing through France, Switzerland and Italy before making her way back her in early November. For you and me, that means some great wine recommendations are forthcoming! It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.
