For the past several years, my wine snobbery has forced me to view merlot, white zin, and chardonnay in the utmost disdain. Why? I have no idea. It’s most likely due to the fact that nearly every source of so-called authority has decried them as being suitable only to the uninitiated, if not the garbage pail.
To be honest, I’ve never liked white zin. Ever. Not even as an underage and opportunistic drinker of anything containing buzz-inducing properties. It’s sweet in a bad kind of way, and aside from a decent rosé, I’ve always viewed pink wines as being pretty damn scary. As for chardonnay, my first (legal) glass of wine was of this variety. I was with my family at Outback Steakhouse in Calumet City, IL, and I had ordered some kind of seafood. My mother, a now-recovering exclusively-white-wine-drinker, ordered a glass of said beverage to complement whatever it was she was eating. So, I copied her. I don’t recall being disgusted by the flavor of the wine, though I do remember thinking that it wasn’t going to be replacing my preference for beer or white Russians anytime soon.
My experience with Merlot was undeniably different. I always liked red wine, and I happily recall the day when I was finally allowed to take communion in church as an adolescent. When I became of legal drinking age and was exposed to reds, it was merlot that captured my interest. Mind you, this was back in the ’90s, and I didn’t know any better that I wasn’t supposed to appreciate this stuff. Anyway, I happily drank my occasional glass of merlot until, well, perhaps the mid-‘00s….
I don’t know when I realized that I ought to steer away from the merlots, and steer towards the cabs, the syrahs, and the (red) zins. But I eventually did, and upon befriending Heather—a wine-o, fellow grad student, and single parent (I used to be one of these)—I really began to broaden my appreciation for wine. I thought I was a budding wine connoisseur, shunning the wines that no serious wine drinker would ever try, and developing my palate’s ability to detect the unique bouquet that each bottle possessed, the difference in flavor between a 2006 and a 2007 Layer Cake Primativo, etc. And then I picked up a copy of the Cork Jester’s Guide to Wine.
This post is getting long, so I won’t belabor how this book—written by a wine “expert”—is awesome and humorously mocks wine snobbery. I only mention it because it made me realize how my own snobbery and refusal to recognize that there MIGHT be something worthwhile in a glass of the sweet pink stuff, chardonnay, or the popular-among-idiots-only merlot, was simply forcing myself into the dreaded category of wannabe-wine-o. That’s embarrassing.
So, Heather and I decided to humor ourselves by putting on a tasting of these three beverages in order to determine for ourselves whether they truly deserved to be the social outcasts that they are. We set one rule: to do our homework. No boxed Franzia; learn about what’s out there.
I was in charge of the merlot, and Heather was in charge of the white zin. Celeste was going to be put in charge of the chardonnay, but I don’t know if Heather was ever able to actually convinced her that our tasting warranted any merit. Either way, it all fell through when Heather go sick on the night we had planned for our tasting. A coincidence? You be the judge. And I moved 100 miles away the next day. I am dying to determine for myself, however, whether all merlot, white zin, and chardonnay sucks. Maybe it’s the true connoisseur who can allow herself to appreciate a glass of the stuff that’s publicly shunned thanks to other wannabe-wine-os.
I will report back after having undertaken this experiment, though I am begging for suggestions…
