Of wine and the wisdom of rats.

I didn't always enjoy wine. I believe my first exposure was in college - but all we could afford was Boone's Farm. Then, my hubby and I felt refined when we bought Beringer White Zinfandel for holiday meals.

I'd say what hooked me on wine was a wine and cheese tasting that was part of my hubby's and my 10th anniversary. Our gift to each other was a weekend in Nashville (Tennessee, not Indiana) in which we stayed in the Opryland Hotel, and saw a live show with Alton Brown - one of my heroes (I am a huge AB fan, and would love to share all of the reasons why...but, that's "another blog entry").

See, I have proof:



Anywhoo - basically what served as a "time killer" between his show and the meet and greet afterwards was a wine and cheese tasting. If my memory serves correctly, my experience was kinda like this (click here, and do the "Wayne's World" dream fade music as it loads).

A new world presented itself, guided by a very knowledgable sommelier and cheese expert. My hubby and I slowly entered the admittedly intimidating world of wine, and now, are hooked.

However, it's interesting the response you often get from people who aren't "into" wine. If you say, "My hubby and I went to a few wineries and did a wine tasting at each," the response is split between, "Oh, and you're still standing?" or a smug shrug that seems to indicate "You must think you're SO refined...wine snob."

Being a musician, classically trained to boot, I note a similarity between the latter response in regards to enjoying art music, as well. People who aren't "into" classical music - when I gush about what it means to me, how it has touched my soul and moved me beyond what words can express - will sometimes respond with a blank stare, followed by the same smug shrug.

Everyone eats and drinks. Everyone listens to music. Everyone has different tastes. However, I often wonder how many people miss the opportunity to truly savor a significant culinary/artistic experience because they simply don't take the time to pause, perceive, reflect and experience the sensations that wine/food/music offers.

On our vacation, we had the opportunity to taste wine with a novice wine taster. This person said, "Wine tastes like wine - I just don't like it, except blush - I like blush, it's sweet."

Now, I don't think that everyone "has" to like wine. However, this person had never really tasted many wines, so therefore, didn't have an informed perception. So, we ordered a tasting tray, and encouraged that person to try a small sip of each.

Reactions ranged from "that smells like a tire shop" (it actually did, interestingly enough), to "oh no, no, no, no I can't even get that past my nose" (this was a very strong, sweet ice wine that was definitely not for drinking as much as it was for sipping slowly as a digestive). This person tried the blush - and indeed liked it - but, now the person knew why, and also that it was very different from the Riesling and the ice wine. The person also knew that they didn't like a blush wine because it was sweet - but because it was light, and not too sweet.

While I don't think this person left a wine fan - the person did have an experience that broadened their perspective and allowed them to be more knowledgeable about wine, as well as their own taste.

I have often been accused of "thinking too much." And sometimes, that is an accurate assessment. But, there are wonders all around us everywhere, and the truly significant moments, in my estimation, happen when more than just the surface is scratched, and we habitually pause, perceive, reflect and experience what life has to offer. Whether this be music, or food, or wine, or bird watching, or soaking in a sunset, or falling in love - it's worth the effort when the sublime awaits.

Which it often does.

The film "Ratatouille" is one of my favorites, because in many ways, it sums up many of my educational perspectives, replacing "food" as art, with "music". I think we often spend much of our lives as Anton Ego - criticizing the world around us as a means of insulating us from our own insecurities (oh, how I have fallen into this trap many times myself). If you haven't seen the film - don't watch this clip, go see the movie! But if you have, please enjoy, and join me in re-dedicating myself to embracing that which is new, and while "not everyone (or every life experience) can become a great artist, a great artist can come from anywhere (or any life experience)".

Cheers!