I was watching the movie “Sideways” tonight and although it’s pretty much a depressing portrait of a depressed wine-loving author and his ego-maniacal eternally horny-about-to-be-married friend, there were a few poignant bits of dialogue. Like this interchange between Miles, the wine lover, and the object of his affections, Maya, a woman he knows from his wine-stops.
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Maya: Why are you so into Pinot? I mean, it’s a thing with you.
Miles: “I don’t know. Um…it’s a hard grape to grow, as you know, right? It’s thin-skinned, termperamental, ripens early. It’s not a survivor, like cabernet, which can just grow anywhere, and thrive even if it’s neglected. Nah, pinot needs constant care and attention. You know, and in fact it can only grow in these really specific and tucked away corners of the world.
And only the most patient…and…nuturing of growers can do it, really. Only when someone really takes the time to understand pinot’s potential, can then coax it into its fullest expression. Then, I mean…
Oh its flavors, they’re the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle, and ancient…on the planet.”
(more talking, then Miles asks Maya why she loves wine)
Maya: “I like to think about the life of wine. How it’s a living thing. I like to think about…what was going on the year the grapes were growing. How the sun was shining…if it rained. I like to think about…all the people who tended and picked the grapes. And if it’s an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve. Like if I opened a bottle of wine today, it’s would taste different than if I’d opened it on any other day. Because a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it’s constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is until it peaks, like your ’61.
Then it begins its steady, inevitable decline.
And it tastes so. fucking. good.”
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When I lived in California the man I was with was both a foodie and a wine-lover. While he definitely opened my palate to food, he was less successful with wine. I don’t know if my palate just wasn’t suited for it, or I had too many bad Catholic school connotations with it. For whatever reason, the only wines I came away liking were “easy.”Gewürztraminer (sweet white wine), and the jugular, dirty ports. But the following exchange makes me want to try again.
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