April 9th 2020

Today I voluntarily drank wine for what I think was probably the first time in my life. I have drank wine on three other occasions:

  1. During a pub golf pub crawl where each hole (pub) had a handicap, and the handicap on the ‘par 5s’ (odd numbered pubs) was a glass of red wine.
  2. At a steak house in Germany on a work trip I was coerced into trying some ice wine. Whatever that means.
  3. At a wedding last year I was stood quite near to the man holding the tray of prosecco glasses at the reception, and then afterwards I was stood quite near to the guy holding the bottle that refills your prosecco glass.
  4. After work a few weeks before the lockdown we ended up at the pub and Em poured her glass of red wine into my beer and made me neck it. I threw up shortly after.

Wait that was four. Never mind, I’m not going to go back and change it.

Those examples range in voluntariness, and only on the first occasion did I actually buy a glass of wine to drink myself. Tonight though was different. There was no coersion or persuasion or dirty pints. I was just had no beer in the house for the ‘virtual pub’ after work. But what I did have was wine.

The only reason I have white wine is because I cooked a casserole last week that required it. I’ll often have a bottle of red to use in spag bols and stuff, but I’ll rarely have white. Today I did though.

Of the many, many, many things I have learnt from my boss throughout the duration of my employment, perhaps the most important is this: you should never cook with a wine that you wouldn’t drink.

I mean, before tonight, as described, I didn’t ever drink wine, but I get that the sentiment means “buy somewhat decent wine even if it’s only going into your food”. The white wine I had was a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough region. And I only mention that because 6 weeks ago, when I was in New Zealand, I literally drove past the field where this wine was made.

So, I polished off what was left of the bottle of white, and had a little titchy tiny bit of the red when there was no more white.

What I learned about myself today is that, gun to my head, if I had to make a choice, apparently I am a white wine guy. I mean, I really hated them both, I just hated the white wine less.

Until tomorrow, if you ask me the bouquet is a little bit too robust for my taste, but then again I’m partial to the softer Californian grape.


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