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Dear Jacqueline Marie,
You know my darling niece, that I use your formal name only on
momentous occasions, and your 21st birthday fits the bill. Welcome
to official adulthood. Enjoy your stay. Make the most of it.
I'm flattered that you asked me to select a special bottle of wine
to help you celebrate, and I've found the best one possible. How
do I know? Because the best bottle is always the one that comes
from the hands of someone you love and who loves you.
But before you pull the cork and unwrap the burritos, I need to
hear something from you: If you're going to start noodling around
in the wine world, promise me that every time you choose to partake,
you'll pause and think about what you're doing, and why. It might
save you from heartache and headaches and the horrors of house-wine
chardonnay. Trust me.
Neither you nor I, nor most of the people in this country, grew
up with wine as a natural presence at the dinner table, so wine
doesn't come easily to us. You'll need to seek introductory advice.
But beware of obnoxious lifestyle marketing strategists and scarifying
neo-prohibitionists. Turn them down to low volume and trust your
common sense. Your sense of taste also is expanding every day, and
you should always trust it, too.
Recognize that wine isn't for everyone. Give it a fair try, and
if it doesn't rock your world, that's fine. You can do worse than
a lifetime of ice tea and Red Bull chasers.
But if you do find that you like it, be smart about it. Never drink
wine to de-stress from work or your calculus final. That's what
yoga is for. Don't turn to it in the wake of a busted romance. Use
your Jagermeister, if you must, or very expensive chocolate. And
don't use wine to gain deeper insight into Radiohead lyrics.
Wine is best enjoyed in moderation, with good people, in pleasant
situations. It is wasted on fools and bores-and on gasbags who overanalyze
it. Always try to drink wine in the context of a meal. Think of
it as a condiment, like ketchup, that enhances and complements the
flavor of food-and is tough to remove when spilled on white blouses.
Try not to make a big deal out of wine. In the end, it's just fermented
grape juice in a package. But don't be blind to wine's possibilities,
either. It can enlighten you to history, geography, the arts, agriculture
and predatory pricing techniques. And, if you're not careful, it
can tell you more than you want to know about yourself and the people
you drink with.
Someday, we might talk about buying strategies and how you're fortunate
to live in an era when there is more inexpensive, good-quality wine
available than ever before (and more stinkers, too.) But for now,
look at that oddly tall bottle of 1999 Domaine Zind-Humbrecht Herrenweg
de Turkheim Riesling I've sent you. Why did I give you a wine that
is hard to pronounce, hard to find, expensive (about $33) and not
necessarily easy for a novice to love? I'm not being perverse, I
want to show you what I think greatness can taste like and how it
takes effort to learn what greatness can be.
You requested a white wine, which is OK for now, even though a
wine's first duty is to be red. I chose a Riesling because, like
you, they aren't afraid to show their personality. A guy from the
company that imports this bottle calls it "a slap-you-in-the-face
wine." He's right.
Great wines reflect their origins. The grapes in your bottle come
from a vineyard in Alsace in northeast France, site of many a border
conflict with Germany. I sense some of that yin and yang in this
wine, along with bracing acidity from the climate and intense, exotic
fruit flavors courtesy of the way the vines and the grapes were
treated.
And, yes, there is some sweetness. Regrettably, many Americans
believe sweet wines are unsophisticated. But throughout history,
kings and queens have coveted such wines for their cellars. And
so, princess, this one's worthy of you.
Make sure you have this with food-a decadent chocolate dessert
or bleu cheese or foie gras. Those last two are adult flavors, but
it's time you get started. Better yet, have your boyfriend cook
something for you. When you drink it, think about why you like it
or why you don't. Start building a vocabulary and a taste memory.
How does it smell? Feel? What flavors do you taste? Would you be
willing to spend $33 on this yourself? Is your uncle a complete
idiot?
That's what I want you to get out of this--the thinking, not the
drinking. After you try it, give me a call and we'll have an official
adult conversation. Cheers.
Your loving uncle,
Jerry
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