Wine

Various wine writers have mentioned that a country in political, social or economic turmoil has next to no chance of supporting healthy wine production and consumption. With war, civil unrest and lack of funding, it would certainly be difficult to concentrate on growing wine grapes, making fine wines and storing them for an appropriate amount of time. Without stability and hope for the future, there would be no reason to invest the time and money. Even if a producer was able to make fine wine under these conditions, who would buy them?

Wine excels when the grapes suffer, not the ones making it or drinking it.

Dad bought a 1972 Alberg 30 (a sailboat) on E-bay and invited my sister and I to help with the 1,500-mile trip back to Mobile Bay. We jumped at the opportunity. I considered bringing a mixed case of wine to leisurely enjoy while watching egrets, great blue heron and osprey fish along cordgrass and pickleweed-lined shores framed by brazen sunsets. Perhaps to foreshadow our journey, the wine was left at home.

Our trip began on a Sunday afternoon, leaving Fairhope in a pick-up truck bound for North Carolina. We arrived, without stopping, the next morning. Dad set up a rendezvous with the previous owner to finalize the purchase, and we began loading gear, checking the boat systems and becoming familiar with our home for the next month. After 36 hours without sleep, we were finally able to crack a few beers and creep wearily into our berths. We woke before light the next morning, needing to travel 80 miles to Belhaven in order to meet up with the rest of the family and pick up Emily. The boat’s top speed is about six mph. Half a mile from the dock, the engine overheated.

We spent the next two weeks making friends with different mechanics along a very short strip of the waterway. They were all very nice and seemed happy to see us. With the Atomic 4’s cooling system finally fixed, we crossed into South Carolina and the engine died completely. We left the boat with a truck driver named Roy, who brought it back to Mobile on a big rig.

Regardless of all the problems, the trip was a blast. We went through three gallons of gin, four cases of tonic, 40 limes, and three cases of beer. But it wasn’t a wine trip. When you are busting hump on an old engine, fighting a current with an eye on the temp gauge, and dealing with the fact that you arenít going to make it home anytime soon, you need something a little bit stronger. I used to think wine calmed me down, but perhaps calm people drink wine.

Fine wine is not a spectator sport. The complexities of texture, smell and flavor demand a certain level of cognizance to be appreciated. If nothing else, the price should elicit some attention! A person under duress can’t be expected to notice the subtleties that differentiate wine from any other beverage. We become baleen whales; straining out the alcohol and flushing the rest. A mentally fatigued individual doesn’t want more to think about, they want to numb the pain with liquor! I guess that is how shots were invented.

I’ve changed my approach to selling wine at the restaurant. Guests need to feel welcome, comfortable and relaxed. Nothing ruins a dining experience quicker than apprehension or anxiety. It starts the minute we walk in the door. If the hostess is juggling phones, bussing tables and running in high heels, we are immediately set on edge. We become hypersensitive to noise, movement and lighting.

If we are seated in a high traffic area, each passing server and guest draws attention from our food, drink and other members of the party. Anxiety turns birthdays and anniversaries into clock-watching ordeals. The secret to fine dining is atmosphere.

Countries with political, social or economic turmoil can’t produce or consume fine wine. The infrastructure that supports wine production is comparable to a restaurant’s infrastructure. Wine and food purveyors, restaurant staff, equipment and atmosphere must be dependable.

A dependable infrastructure creates a comfortable environment. A comfortable environment allows guests to appreciate fine wine. While this sounds very obvious, it took a sailboat trip for me to truly understand it.

Contact Matt Devan at wineguy@lagniappemobile.com.

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