I’m not the Wine Steward (you just think I am)

It happened again a few weeks ago: I was exploring the wine section at a new local supermarket where I was taking notes on unfamiliar wines and comparing prices. You know, just minding my own business when another shopper came up to me looking quite desperate, and started asking me questions about wine. Now, I was dressed in my summer khakis, white linen shirt and sandals, definitely not the store uniform, but that made no difference to him. “What’s a white wine?” he asked me. Several replies came to mind, so I took a moment to study him.

He was dressed in a casual, air-conditioned manner – his black tennis shoes had holes, his jeans were torn, and his, thin grey t-shirt had writing rendered indecipherable by innumerable washings. He looked around a bit wildly, picking bottles up at random. Since we were standing in the Chardonnay aisle, I took a chance that he really meant what he asked. “Well, white wines are made from green grapes, not red, including Chardonnay (I pointed to the sign above his head), Sauvignon Blanc (pointing to the next aisle with its sign), and a bunch of others (Yep, the sign said “Other Whites”). “Oh” he said a glimmer of light in his eyes “My girlfriend wants white wine”. I asked if she had a preference and he said No, but they’re going to stop by KFC for dinner in a few minutes. “Ah”, I said knowingly, “let’s step over to the refrigerated section”. We discussed price points and I pointed out a few bottles that would suit his purpose. Working in his budget, we found a bottle of Pinot Gris that would make his girlfriend happy. With the girlfriend’s beverage needs satisfied, he whistled as he headed to the beer section to make his own selection.

I’m often asked questions in supermarkets and wine stores – both on food and wine. I’m not sure why, I look perfectly normal. Perhaps it’s because my brow doesn’t furrow when I look at the bottles. Maybe it’s the way I inspect the back and front labels (I love back labels – it’s really interesting to see if the winery marketing team thinks that straightforward information, romantic gobblygook, or incomprehensible avant garde poetry will best sell their wine. The one I hate the most is the avant garde poetry with no mention of the varietal or blend.)