A Layman's Wine Explorations 8

by William Powell

How was I supposed to know it cost almost 250 euros a bottle? (And it didn't really taste that good either … God, it was sweet.) Right now, though, I'm dealing with a kind of trouble that I consider decidedly unfair.

Johanna is annoyed

My goddaughter Johanna is annoyed with me, and in her displeasure she has even gone so far as to tell on me to my wife. Where would we be if the best of all wives were called in every time I supposedly put a foot wrong? Quite apart from the fact that the dear woman would probably have to give up her job, it's completely unnecessary. And it was all done with the best of intentions. It's bound to stand the little one in good stead one day, too. After all, she had let her father catch her trying to smuggle several empty bottles of some sugary-sweet wine-based drink out of the house.

A sleepover with a surprise

She had knocked it back with a few friends at a little sleepover party and then forgotten to clear it away. The girl is almost 15, and there's only marginally more alcohol in that stuff than in natural apple juice, I think. That wasn't actually the problem—what so infuriated my mate (and the father of the teenager in question) was that she was bothering with “that sort of swill” when he had a cellar full of the most delicious wines from around the world. This is where it gets embarrassing, because I, of all people, agreed with him.

The little difference

“You couldn't tell a white wine from a red in the dark,” was my wife's devastating verdict after that little brat of a goddaughter told her about my brilliant idea for restoring domestic harmony: wine education on the homeschooling principle! Early-years wine education, so to speak! I mean, better that than having the kids grow up like me and settle for bad wine.

Everything in the first 6 months

My mate, at any rate, thought the idea wasn't half bad, and so my goddaughter now gets a lesson in wine once a week. To her great disappointment (and outrage), it's purely theoretical: types of wine, cellar work, maturation and the history of winegrowing are apparently on the syllabus for the first six months. She also has to find out as much as possible about selected bottles from her father's collection—using only the label.

Everything on the label

Destination: Bad Dürkheim

And her loving dad has already booked their first short break together at a typical Palatinate wine estate near Bad Dürkheim. Including a wine tasting for her 15th birthday. Rather sweet, really, isn't it? And how do my wife and goddaughter react? They're annoyed and call the whole exercise over the top. “She wanted a drink, and you're turning her into a wine super-agent?” I was told recently. My only support in this matter comes from the mother of the culprit who was caught. She simply shrugged and said—mainly in my wife's direction: “It could have been worse—my father collected whiskey!”

A collection of curiosities, please

Let's see whether the ill feeling lasts much longer—all in all, I am very fond of my goddaughter. Perhaps I'll have a word with her father. At the very least, he ought to leave out the curiosities section of his collection. I fear that both Johanna and my wife will feel the urge to skin me with a cheese slicer if the girl is ever served Wincarnis. And anyone who has ever tried this British tonic made from wine, meat extract and malt will probably even sympathise with the bloody deed.