A Layman's Wine Explorations 18

A Layman's Wine Explorations 

by William Powell

Drinking wine has its pitfalls. I had to learn that all over again just recently. And I don't even mean the usual traps laid by my own ignorance, which I fall into with such delightful regularity whenever I feel the need to play the expert again.

My father-in-law, for example, recently had an old university friend visiting, and the two were sitting on the veranda sipping a red wine the friend had brought along. But I didn't know that when I joined them and heard my father-in-law murmur: “Hmmm ... lovely blackberry on the finish,” And what did I do? Asked, “Oh, do you like fruit wine?”.

Doppelbock or Wheat Beer

Needless to say, I was persona non grata for the rest of the day. 

No – the latest pitfalls have to do with the drinking itself. Or rather, with drinking in company while caught up in the spirit of football. My neighbour has a big screen and a fancy projector. No wonder I gratefully accepted his invitation to watch the European Championship together. But he also has odd taste in beer, so the drinks on offer were Doppelbock, Kristallweizen or Guinness.

I find all three dreadful, so I brought along a little bottle of Chianti that my missus had lugged home from a girls' trip to Tuscany. After all, it was the quarter-final between Germany and Italy, so the red seemed quite fitting.

A Full Glass of Red Wine

Besides, it tasted good – even if the beer-drinking guests shook their heads at me in bewilderment. Still, we coexisted peacefully and enjoyed the match together – until the 65th minute. That was when Mesut Özil scored a cracking goal to make it 1–0, and naturally we all threw our arms up in delight. My neighbour with a beer bottle – me with a full glass of red wine.

I'm really glad we were watching outside and that most of the stains ended up “only” on older T-shirts and cheap replica Germany shirts. But I wasn't allowed to celebrate quite so exuberantly again until the end of extra time. Ever since, I've been wondering how those nations so famous for their wine consumption handle this. Don't the French drink red wine while watching football? Don't the Italians cheer when a goal is scored? Do the Spanish always watch naked in rooms tiled up to head height?

A Penalty for the Chianti

Or do they all sip a civilised little glass of Frascati instead? Questions upon questions, which almost inevitably conjured up some very bizarre mental images. I saw tea bags flying as the Welsh cheered on their team over a little pot of Earl Grey. I pictured Zlatan and co. toasting each other with a little barrel of cod-liver oil and fish oil, and wondered whether the blood the Icelanders probably celebrate with is still at body temperature?

But all these thoughts prove quite clearly that I need to go back to Italy, Spain and France – preferably for the 2018 World Cup. And then I'll take some remedial lessons in celebrating with red wine, so I don't disgrace myself (quite so badly) again. At least I found a perfectly decent solution for the penalty shoot-out: I simply drank the Chianti straight from the bottle. Worked quite well!