Critics

Setting aside the surplus of uppish “authorities” on wine, who use their knowledge to cloak it in an exclusionary and intimidating mystery, wine, in and of itself, is a complex and mysterious substance. It is no small matter that Robert Louis Stevenson was inspired to the comparison : “Wine is bottled poetry.” For, like poetry, wine is concentrated expression. Within its dark reaches we may encounter any number of mercurial impressions, odors transporting us back in time, elements of surprise, and sensory revelations. A wine, like a poem, is never exactly the same wine twice. Not only is each person’s experience contingent upon his or her individual mood, memory, and sense of smell, but a wine, too, as a living, changing substance, is also subject to varying characteristics within a given period of time.

Wine is a very particular, complex creature. It has many moods and many incarnations. You can taste the same wine at a vineyard in the summer or on a different continent in winter and the flavor, aroma, and body of the wine will change so drastically, it really isn’t the same wine at all. That being said, a great wine will always be great and a poor wine will always be poor, I’m speaking about how we experience wine can vary with our surroundings.

“I’d like to try your Goosetaweiner.” Since barrel-tasting weekend coincided with a few of the major NCAA college basketball conference tournament finals, I had half an eye on the high def TV on the counter. While I was pretty sure I had heard “Goosetaweiner,” I wanted to give the visitor the benefit of the doubt. “I’m sorry? You’d like to try our Gewurtztraminer?” I figured I’d let him off the hook by pronouncing it correctly. That way, he could just repeat it. “Yes, the Goosetaweiner.” There it was again.

If you are anything like most wine-heads I know, you are always traveling to undiscovered territory, varied by both varietal and producer, on the hunt for the next perfect glass of high. Wine-heads don’t seek to conquer our unquenchable thirst but rather to indulge it.

Recently, I joined a friend who was writing an article determining San Francisco’s best wine bar on a field trip and it started me thinking about what I like and don’t in a wine bar. Mind you, I don’t own a wine bar nor have I ever worked in one, but I have been to many. So perhaps it’s best to think of the following as a collection of thoughts from the peanut gallery—notes from Andy Rooney’s trip to a couple of wine bars.