Author: Gregory Dean

  • The Art of Gathering

    The Art of Gathering

    Wine, People & the Etiquette of Enjoyment.

    There is something wonderfully social about wine. It has a way of turning an ordinary evening into an occasion, whether that occasion is an elaborate dinner in a fine restaurant, a tasting at a neighborhood wine shop, a visit to a vineyard, or a handful of friends gathered around a kitchen table with a few bottles and something good to eat.

    The setting may change, as does the level of formality, but the appeal is remarkably consistent. We gather around wine because it gives us something to explore and something to talk about. It introduces us to places we’ve never visited, grapes we may never have encountered, producers whose stories are worth knowing, and foods that somehow taste a little different when accompanied by the right bottle. Perhaps most importantly, wine gives us a reason to sit together long enough for conversation to develop.

    That last part is easy to overlook.

    Wine gatherings are, after all, social occasions. We aren’t simply there to taste. We’re there to meet people, reconnect with friends, share a meal, celebrate something, learn something, or simply enjoy an evening together. Good wine etiquette, therefore, isn’t about imposing a set of rigid rules on the experience. It is really about understanding what kind of gathering we’re attending and being considerate of the people who have helped create it.

    wine tasting event with diverse group enjoying red wine
    Photo by Blanca Isela on Pexels.com

    Every Wine Gathering Has Its Own Rhythm

    A classic wine tasting tends to be focused on the wine itself. Perhaps a sommelier, winemaker, educator, or knowledgeable enthusiast has assembled a flight around a particular region, grape, vintage, or style. There may be tasting notes, maps, background information, and plenty of questions.

    In that setting, listening is part of participating. If someone has spent time preparing the tasting, researching the wines, and creating a narrative around them, it is reasonable to give that person your attention while they introduce each bottle. There is no expectation that everyone sit silently as though attending a university lecture, but carrying on a completely unrelated conversation while someone is explaining the wine defeats much of the purpose of being there.

    A wine dinner has a different rhythm. Now the food becomes an equal partner, and the experience is as much about the interaction between the wine and the dish as it is about either one individually. The chef may explain the inspiration behind a course while the sommelier explains the wine selected to accompany it. Guests taste, compare, discuss, and eventually wander into conversations of their own.

    That’s exactly what should happen.

    The same is true of a winery visit, where the landscape, history, vineyard, cellar, and people behind the wine become part of the experience. At a retail tasting, the atmosphere may be considerably more casual, but there is still usually someone who has invested time and expertise into presenting the wines. Even a large public wine festival has its own etiquette: give the person pouring a chance to explain the wine, avoid monopolizing the table when others are waiting, and remember that a tasting is an opportunity to explore rather than an endurance contest.

    The details change, but the underlying courtesy remains surprisingly consistent.

    a glass of wine with white wine
    Photo by Nadin Sh on Pexels.com

    The Most Important Person in the Room May Be Holding the Bottle

    There is a particularly interesting dynamic in a private tasting among friends.

    Perhaps ten people have gathered around a table, each assigned a wine from a particular country or region. Everyone has been encouraged to do a little homework before arriving. One person has researched the history of the appellation. Another has discovered an indigenous grape that most of the group has never tasted. Someone else knows the producer’s story or has uncovered an unusual connection between the wine and the evening’s cuisine.

    When that bottle arrives, the person who brought it isn’t simply opening a bottle. They are bringing a little piece of their research to the table.

    That deserves a moment of attention.

    It doesn’t have to become a formal presentation, and nobody wants to turn a dinner among friends into a series of ten lectures. In fact, one of the pleasures of these gatherings is that the information is delivered conversationally. A few minutes about the region, the grape, the producer, or the reason the bottle was selected may be all that is necessary to get everyone thinking about what’s in the glass.

    But while that person is sharing, the rest of the table has a simple responsibility: listen.

    The person holding the bottle has, for those few minutes, the floor.

    Put the side conversation on pause. Look up from the plate. Give them a chance to tell the story they’ve brought with the wine. If something sparks a question, ask it. If someone else knows something that adds to the discussion, that’s even better.

    Then taste the wine and let the conversation evolve.

    It’s a small courtesy, but it changes the experience considerably for the person who has taken the time to prepare.

    clear glasses with wine
    Photo by Pavel Danilyuk on Pexels.com

    Wine Education Should Create Curiosity, Not Competition

    One of the wonderful things about wine is that there is always more to learn. That is also one of the things that can make wine conversations a little tricky.

    Wine attracts knowledgeable people, and knowledgeable people naturally enjoy sharing what they know. But there is a meaningful difference between contributing knowledge and demonstrating knowledge.

    If someone mispronounces a grape, there may be a gentle way to help them. If someone has a different impression of a wine, that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re wrong. If someone discovers something about a region that you already knew, you don’t have to establish that you knew it first.

    The most enjoyable wine conversations tend to be collaborative. One person’s knowledge sparks another person’s question, which leads someone else to share an experience, which sends the group in an entirely new direction.

    That is how a tasting becomes a conversation.

    Wine doesn’t need to become a competition over who knows the most. There is plenty of room around the table for the enthusiast who has been studying wine for twenty years and the person who has just discovered that they really like Riesling.

    In fact, the latter may ask the more interesting question.

    woman in white long sleeve shirt holding wine glass
    Photo by Katerina Filipko on Pexels.com

    There Is No Shame in Not Liking the Wine

    Another important piece of wine etiquette is allowing people to have their own palates.

    Not every wine will appeal to everyone. That’s not a failure of the wine, the winemaker, or the person who brought it. It’s one of the reasons tasting a group of wines together is so interesting.

    Perhaps one person finds a wine beautifully restrained while another thinks it lacks character. One guest loves the acidity while another prefers something rounder and richer. Someone detects cherries, another gets herbs, and a third person can’t identify anything beyond “wine.”

    All three experiences are legitimate.

    A useful wine gathering doesn’t require consensus. It encourages people to articulate what they are experiencing and, perhaps more importantly, to be curious about why someone else is experiencing something different.

    There is a world of difference between saying, “I don’t care for this style,” and announcing that a wine is objectively terrible. The first tells us something interesting about the person tasting it. The second tends to end the conversation.

    And conversation is what we’re really after.

    people having a toast
    Photo by Julia Kuzenkov on Pexels.com

    The Informal Gathering Is Still Worth Protecting

    Perhaps the easiest wine gathering to underestimate is the one that happens among friends.

    There is no admission fee. Nobody is taking notes. There may not even be a corkscrew within reach when the first bottle arrives. Dinner might be beautifully prepared or ordered from the local restaurant. Someone will inevitably arrive late, someone will forget what they were supposed to bring, and at some point the conversation will wander so far from wine that nobody will remember what region we’re supposedly exploring.

    That’s not a problem.

    It’s part of the charm.

    But informality doesn’t mean that the wine becomes irrelevant. In fact, these relaxed gatherings can be among the best opportunities to learn because there is no pressure to perform. We can ask basic questions without feeling foolish. We can disagree without worrying about being judged. We can admit that we’ve never heard of a grape, taste something completely unfamiliar, and discover that we love it.

    What makes these evenings special is the balance between structure and spontaneity.

    At the beginning of the evening, when a bottle is being introduced, it is worth giving the presenter everyone’s attention. Once the wine has been poured and discussed, let the evening take over. Talk about the wine. Talk about the food. Tell stories. Laugh. Drift into subjects that have nothing whatsoever to do with wine.

    The conversation eventually becoming less structured isn’t evidence that the evening has failed.

    It may be evidence that it has succeeded.

    The Art of Reading the Room

    Perhaps the most useful rule of wine etiquette is one that doesn’t appear on many tasting guides: read the room.

    A sommelier leading a formal tasting may expect everyone’s attention for several minutes at a time. A winemaker visiting a small group may want to engage in a deeper discussion. A casual wine-shop tasting may be designed primarily for people to mingle.

    The same behavior that would be perfectly appropriate in one setting could feel awkward in another.

    Good hosts understand this, and good guests do too.

    If people are deeply engaged in the wine discussion, let it continue. If someone is clearly telling an important story, listen. If the table has reached the point where everyone is simply enjoying dinner and conversation, there may be no reason to force everyone back into tasting mode.

    Wine education works best when people want to participate.

    The objective isn’t to extract every possible fact from a bottle before anyone is allowed to talk about anything else. It is to give people enough context to make the experience richer.

    clear wine glass with red wine
    Photo by Helena Lopes on Pexels.com

    And Then There Is the Phone

    There is, of course, one modern exception to the general rule about paying attention.

    If someone mentions a grape you’ve never heard of and you immediately reach for your phone to find out what it is, that’s probably a good thing.

    If someone is discussing the elevation of a vineyard and you want to look it up, go ahead.

    If you’re trying to settle whether a particular appellation is spelled with one “n” or two, we’re happy to let Google referee.

    But if someone is sharing the story behind a bottle while the rest of the table watches a phone screen, something has gone wrong.

    One of the great luxuries of a wine gathering is that we have chosen to be together in the same physical place. The internet will still be there later.

    The people around the table may not always be.

    glass of wine standing by the plate
    Photo by Doğu Tuncer on Pexels.com

    Ultimately, It Is About Generosity

    The best wine gatherings have a certain generosity about them.

    The host generously opens the home.

    The cook generously prepares the meal.

    The person who brings the wine generously shares something they have selected.

    The presenter generously shares what they have learned.

    And the guests generously give their attention, their questions, their observations, and their enthusiasm.

    That reciprocity is really the heart of wine etiquette.

    It isn’t about knowing which fork to use or whether your glass is being held correctly. It isn’t about memorizing a list of rules or making everyone behave like they’re attending a professional tasting.

    It is simply about recognizing what someone else has contributed to the experience and giving it the consideration it deserves.

    When someone is pouring, listen.

    When someone has prepared a story, let them tell it.

    When someone has a different opinion, be curious.

    When the formal part of the evening is over, relax and enjoy the company.

    And when the conversation eventually wanders away from wine—which it almost certainly will—don’t worry about it. Good wine has a habit of doing that. It opens the door, gets everyone seated around the same table, and then quietly steps aside while people begin talking about their lives.

    That’s perhaps the greatest thing about wine.

    We may gather because of the bottle, but we stay because of the people.

    And if, somewhere along the way, we learn something new about a grape, a region, a dish, or one another, then the evening has given us exactly what we came for.

    Wine brings us to the table. Good company gives us a reason to stay.

    Cheers 🍷

    Cover Photo by Bingqian Li on Pexels.com

  • Fall in a Bowl

    Fall in a Bowl

    Wine Pairings for Soups, Stews & Chili.

    There is something about the first cool evening of autumn that changes the way we eat.

    Suddenly, salads seem a little less interesting. Grilling gives way to simmering. The Dutch oven comes out of hiding. The kitchen fills with the aromas of onions, garlic, herbs and something that has been bubbling away for hours.

    And then comes the bowl.

    Soup. Stew. Chili. Braised everything.

    These are among the most comforting foods of the season—and some of the most difficult foods to pair with wine.

    Why? Because a bowl can contain an entire ecosystem of flavors. Fat, salt, acid, spice, sweetness, umami and texture can all show up in the same spoonful. The wine has to find a way into that conversation without shouting over it.

    When the pairing works, though, something wonderful happens.

    The wine doesn’t simply accompany the food.

    It becomes part of the dish.

    cooked food in the bowl
    Photo by Piotr Arnoldes on Pexels.com

    The Golden Rule of Bowl Pairing

    Forget the idea that every hearty dish needs a big, powerful red.

    Sometimes it does. Sometimes it absolutely doesn’t.

    The better approach is to consider the dominant personality of the dish.

    Is it rich and meaty? Tomato-driven? Spicy? Earthy? Creamy? Smoky? Herbaceous?

    Then look for a wine that either complements that personality or provides a little contrast.

    A rich stew may love the acidity of a Cabernet Sauvignon. A spicy chili might actually prefer something fruitier and softer. A creamy soup can become magical with a crisp white wine.

    And here’s the secret many people overlook:

    Acidity is your friend.

    Soups and stews can be rich, salty and intensely savory. A wine with good acidity refreshes the palate between bites and keeps the meal from becoming heavy.

    Think of it as the reset button.

    a baked dish in a pot
    Photo by Marcelo Verfe on Pexels.com

    The Classic Beef Stew

    Few dishes say fall quite like a traditional beef stew.

    Slow-cooked beef. Carrots. Potatoes. Onions. Celery. Garlic. Herbs. A rich broth, perhaps fortified with a little red wine.

    The flavors are deep, savory and earthy.

    The Bowl

    Classic Beef Stew

    • 2 lbs. beef chuck, cut into 1½-inch pieces
    • 3 tbsp olive oil
    • 1 large onion, chopped
    • 3 carrots, sliced
    • 3 celery stalks, sliced
    • 3 cloves garlic, minced
    • 2 tbsp tomato paste
    • 2 cups beef stock
    • 1 cup dry red wine
    • 1 lb. Yukon Gold potatoes, cubed
    • 2 sprigs thyme
    • 1 bay leaf
    • Salt and black pepper

    Brown the beef in batches. Sauté the vegetables, add the garlic and tomato paste, then return the beef to the pot.

    Add the stock and wine, tuck in the herbs and let everything simmer gently for about two hours. Add the potatoes during the final 30–40 minutes.

    The goal isn’t simply tender beef.

    It’s concentration.

    The Glass

    Cabernet Sauvignon

    Cabernet’s structure has enough backbone to stand alongside beef, while its acidity keeps the richness in check. Look for a Cabernet with ripe fruit and moderate oak rather than one dominated by tannin.

    Try instead: Cabernet Franc, Merlot or a Southern Rhône blend.

    And if you cooked the stew with red wine, serving that same wine alongside dinner can create a particularly seamless pairing.

    SOMM&SOMM TIP: Don’t automatically reach for the biggest Cabernet on the shelf. A stew doesn’t need a wine that overwhelms it. It needs one that can keep pace.

    close up shot of a chili sauce on a bowl
    Photo by Teja J on Pexels.com

    Chili: The Great Fall Debate

    Beans or no beans?

    Beef or turkey?

    Tomatoes or no tomatoes?

    Heat level?

    Every family seems to have an opinion.

    Fortunately, wine doesn’t have to take sides.

    The Bowl

    Classic Beef & Bean Chili

    • 1½ lbs. ground beef
    • 1 large onion, diced
    • 1 bell pepper, diced
    • 3 cloves garlic, minced
    • 2 tbsp chili powder
    • 1 tsp cumin
    • 1 tsp smoked paprika
    • 1 can crushed tomatoes
    • 1 can kidney beans
    • 1 can black beans
    • 1 cup beef stock
    • Salt and black pepper
    • Optional: cayenne or chipotle for additional heat

    Brown the beef and drain excess fat. Add the onion and pepper, followed by garlic and spices.

    Add the tomatoes, beans and stock.

    Then comes the hardest part:

    Wait.

    Let it simmer for at least 30 minutes. An hour is even better.

    Chili rewards patience.

    The Glass

    Zinfandel

    This is where things get interesting.

    Zinfandel’s ripe berry character and generous fruit can work beautifully with chili’s tomato, smoke and spice. Its relatively moderate tannin also makes it more forgiving with spicy foods than many highly structured reds.

    For a smoky chili, look for a Zinfandel with dark fruit and a touch of spice.

    Try instead: Syrah, Grenache or a juicy Malbec.

    What about the heat?

    Here’s where wine pairing gets really interesting.

    Capsaicin—the compound responsible for chili pepper heat—can make high-alcohol, heavily tannic wines feel hotter.

    So if your chili is bringing serious fire, consider a wine with:

    more fruit + less tannin + moderate alcohol.

    A slightly chilled red can also be surprisingly refreshing.

    Yes.

    Put the red wine in the refrigerator.

    Just for a little while.

    Your sommelier friends will survive.

    close up of a meal
    Photo by Laura Paredis on Pexels.com

    French Onion Soup

    Sometimes the most beautiful pairing begins with the simplest ingredients.

    Onions. Butter. Stock. Bread. Cheese.

    That’s it.

    Well… almost.

    The Bowl

    French Onion Soup

    Slowly caramelize 4–5 large yellow onions in butter and olive oil until deeply golden. Add thyme and garlic, then deglaze with about a cup of dry white wine.

    Add 6 cups of beef stock and simmer for 30 minutes.

    Ladle into oven-safe bowls, top with toasted baguette and Gruyère, then broil until the cheese is bubbling and golden.

    The key word here is caramelization.

    The onions bring sweetness and umami. The cheese adds fat and salt. The broth brings depth.

    The Glass

    Chardonnay

    But not just any Chardonnay.

    Look for one with bright acidity and restrained oak.

    A Burgundy-style Chardonnay can be especially lovely here. The wine’s acidity cuts through the cheese while its subtle richness echoes the texture of the soup.

    Try instead: Sauvignon Blanc or a dry Chenin Blanc.

    And this is one of those occasions when white wine absolutely deserves a place at the fall table.

    creamy mushroom soup with potatoes in white bowl
    Photo by Valeria Boltneva on Pexels.com

    The Hearty Mushroom Soup

    Mushrooms are autumn in edible form.

    Earthy. Forest-like. Savory. Almost mysterious.

    A creamy mushroom soup can be one of the most rewarding fall-and-wine combinations.

    The Bowl

    Creamy Wild Mushroom Soup

    Sauté a mixture of mushrooms—cremini, shiitake, oyster or whatever looks good at the market—with butter, shallots and garlic.

    Add thyme and a splash of dry white wine.

    Pour in chicken or vegetable stock and simmer until the mushrooms are tender. Blend part of the soup while leaving some mushrooms whole for texture.

    Finish with a little cream.

    The Glass

    Pinot Noir

    Mushrooms and Pinot Noir have a long-standing relationship for good reason.

    Pinot’s red-fruit character, earthy notes and relatively delicate tannins complement rather than overpower the mushrooms.

    The pairing feels almost intuitive.

    Try instead: Chardonnay, Gamay or a lighter-bodied Rhône red.

    SOMM&SOMM TIP: This is another example of why “hearty food = big red wine” doesn’t always work. Mushroom soup has plenty of flavor, but its texture and earthiness call for finesse rather than brute force.

    Image by Danny_boy64, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

    Chicken & Sausage Gumbo

    Fall doesn’t belong exclusively to Europe.

    Some of the best cold-weather bowls come from Louisiana.

    Gumbo brings layers upon layers of flavor: sausage, chicken, vegetables, stock, spices and that unmistakable depth created by a properly developed roux.

    The Bowl

    Chicken & Sausage Gumbo

    Make a dark roux with equal parts flour and oil, stirring patiently until it reaches a deep brown color.

    Add onion, celery and bell pepper—the Louisiana holy trinity—followed by garlic, smoked sausage, chicken stock, chicken and Creole seasoning.

    Simmer until everything comes together.

    Serve over rice.

    And keep the hot sauce nearby.

    The Glass

    Grenache

    Grenache can be a surprisingly good companion for gumbo. Its ripe red fruit handles the spice while its softer tannins avoid fighting with the sausage and seasoning.

    A Southern Rhône blend can add additional savory and herbal character.

    Try instead: Zinfandel or a dry rosé if the gumbo isn’t particularly hot.

    a person peeling an onion
    Photo by Boryslav Shoot on Pexels.com

    The Wine-Pairing Cheat Sheet

    When standing over a simmering pot wondering what to open, start here:

    If the bowl is…Reach for…
    Beefy & richCabernet Sauvignon
    Tomato-basedZinfandel or Sangiovese
    Spicy & smokyGrenache or Zinfandel
    CreamyChardonnay
    Mushroom-heavyPinot Noir
    Herb-drivenSauvignon Blanc
    Sausage-richRhône red blend
    Very spicyFruit-forward, lower-tannin red
    Rich but not spicyHigh-acid red or white
    Cheese-heavyChardonnay or Pinot Noir

    But remember: these aren’t rules.

    They’re starting points.

    delicious soup and bread on wooden table top
    Photo by ROMAN ODINTSOV on Pexels.com

    The Real Secret to Fall Pairing

    The best wine isn’t necessarily the most expensive bottle in the cellar.

    It is the bottle that makes you take another bite.

    Then another sip.

    Then another bite.

    That is the moment when pairing stops being an exercise in matching flavors and becomes something much more interesting.

    The wine changes the food.

    The food changes the wine.

    And suddenly that humble bowl of stew you’ve made a hundred times tastes a little different.

    Maybe even a little better.

    That’s the magic of pairing.

    And perhaps that’s what autumn is really about.

    Taking familiar things—cool evenings, a simmering pot, crusty bread, a good bottle of wine—and discovering that they can still surprise you.

    Pour generously. Simmer slowly.

    And whatever you do…

    don’t forget the bread 🍷

    Photo by Anna Pyshniuk on Pexels.com

  • The New Rules of Drinking

    The New Rules of Drinking

    Why wine isn’t disappearing—we’re simply changing the way we drink it.

    For generations, wine came with a fairly well-established set of rules. Red wine belonged with meat, white wine with fish, Champagne with celebrations, and cocktails were generally reserved for the beginning of the evening. There were rules about glassware, serving temperature, food pairings, vintages and even the proper way to talk about what was in your glass.

    Some of those rules were useful. Others were little more than tradition dressed up as law.

    toast with glasses of cold drinks
    Photo by Ngân Dương on Pexels.com

    Today, consumers are quietly rewriting the rulebook.

    That doesn’t necessarily mean people are abandoning wine or spirits. In many cases, they’re becoming more selective about how, when and why they drink. They’re exploring smaller formats, wine cocktails, ready-to-drink beverages and no- and low-alcohol alternatives while continuing to seek out premium wines and spirits for the occasions that matter to them. The result is not so much the decline of drinking as the personalization of it.

    From my perspective as a sommelier—and from years spent working in marketing and understanding why consumers make the choices they do—that distinction is particularly interesting.

    Because the beverage industry has traditionally organized itself around categories.

    Consumers increasingly organize themselves around occasions.

    wine barrels display in adelaide market
    Photo by Anh Thu Le on Pexels.com

    The End of “You’re Supposed to Like This”

    Wine has always had an interesting relationship with authority. Scores, medals, famous producers, prestigious regions and celebrated vintages all help us understand quality and provenance. They give consumers a vocabulary for navigating an enormous and sometimes intimidating world.

    But somewhere along the way, information occasionally became intimidation.

    A person can be made to feel that they don’t understand wine simply because they don’t enjoy Cabernet Sauvignon, don’t know the difference between Barolo and Barbaresco, or would rather have a $20 bottle than a $200 one.

    That’s changing.

    Today’s wine consumer is increasingly comfortable asking a much simpler question: Do I like it?

    That doesn’t make expertise irrelevant. Quite the opposite. A good sommelier can help someone discover why they enjoy something, introduce them to a grape or region they have never encountered, or suggest a bottle that will make a particular meal better. Knowledge should open doors, not put up barriers.

    Wine is more enjoyable when curiosity replaces intimidation.

    a man holding a wineglass
    Photo by Pavel Danilyuk on Pexels.com

    Wine Doesn’t Have to Be Serious All the Time

    Wine can be serious. Some wines deserve contemplation, discussion and perhaps a little reverence. A great Burgundy, Barolo or vintage Champagne can provide an extraordinary sensory experience and tell us something about its place of origin, its producer and its history.

    But wine can also simply be fun.

    That may be one reason wine cocktails are attracting renewed attention. Wine already brings acidity, fruit, aromatics and texture to a drink, so adding citrus, botanicals, bitters, vermouth, soda or fresh fruit isn’t really an assault on wine culture. It’s another way of experiencing it.

    The same applies to wines that don’t fit neatly into traditional categories. Pét-nat, orange wine, chilled reds and unconventional blends have found enthusiastic audiences precisely because they offer something different.

    The interesting part isn’t whether these styles conform to traditional wine culture.

    It’s that people are discovering them without particularly caring whether they do.

    close up of woman holding wine bottles
    Photo by Nikolai Lapshin on Pexels.com

    Smaller Bottles, Different Habits

    The 750ml bottle has been the standard for so long that we rarely stop to consider what it assumes: that you want approximately five glasses of the same wine and that you intend to drink them within a reasonable period of time.

    That’s not necessarily how people live anymore.

    Smaller bottles, cans, single-serve formats and other alternatives give consumers the ability to match the amount of wine to the occasion. A half bottle can make sense for two people having dinner. A single serve can be perfect for someone cooking at home. A smaller format can also make it easier to experiment with a wine without committing to an entire bottle.

    From a marketing perspective, this is an obvious opportunity. Reducing the commitment makes it easier for a consumer to try something unfamiliar.

    From a wine perspective, it simply gives us more reasons to open something interesting.

    Moderation Is Becoming Part of the Experience

    Perhaps the most significant change is the growing space between drinking and not drinking.

    The conversation around alcohol is becoming less binary. Someone might enjoy a glass of Champagne at dinner and choose a non-alcoholic cocktail the following evening. They might explore a lower-alcohol wine at lunch and order a full-bodied red with dinner. They may simply decide that some occasions call for alcohol and others don’t.

    That doesn’t necessarily diminish the drinking experience. It can actually make the occasion more intentional.

    The no- and low-alcohol category is particularly interesting because consumers are increasingly asking the same questions of these beverages that they ask of wine and spirits: Does it taste good? Does it have complexity? Does it work with food? Is it worth drinking even when alcohol isn’t part of the equation?

    That is a much higher bar than simply creating an alternative for someone who doesn’t want alcohol.

    And it is probably a healthy one for the industry.

    vibrant cocktail display on elegant bar counter
    Photo by Szymon Shields on Pexels.com

    The Occasion Is the New Category

    This may be the biggest lesson for anyone trying to understand today’s beverage consumer.

    People don’t necessarily decide what to drink based on a permanent preference for one category. They decide based on what they’re doing.

    A bottle of wine for an anniversary dinner is different from a bottle opened while grilling on a Saturday afternoon. A cocktail before dinner serves a different purpose than a glass of wine with the meal. A sparkling wine at brunch occupies an entirely different space from the Cabernet someone has been saving for a special steak.

    The person making all of those choices can be the same person.

    That’s why traditional demographic thinking doesn’t always explain beverage behavior very well. The same consumer can be adventurous one night, traditional the next and alcohol-free the night after that.

    The occasion changes.

    So does the glass.

    vineyard harvest in douro valley portugal
    Photo by Pedro Rebelo Pereira on Pexels.com

    Tradition Still Matters

    None of this means that the old rules are irrelevant.

    Understanding tradition is part of understanding wine. Knowing why Champagne is made the way it is, why certain grapes thrive in particular regions or why serving temperature changes the perception of a wine gives us a deeper appreciation for what’s in the glass.

    But tradition should be a starting point rather than a restriction.

    If you want to put ice in your rosé on a hot afternoon, go ahead. If you prefer your red wine slightly chilled, there’s no sommelier emergency hotline you need to call. If a particular wine tastes better to you in a tumbler than a Burgundy glass, that’s useful information about your experience of the wine.

    The rules are there to help us understand the beverage.

    They aren’t there to prevent us from enjoying it.

    a bottle and a glass of red wine on a terrace with the view of a city in the background
    Photo by Andrea Mosti on Pexels.com

    The Story Is Becoming More Important Than the Status

    Wine has long been marketed through prestige. Famous names, famous vineyards, high scores and celebrated vintages have enormous influence, and rightly so when they represent genuine quality.

    But consumers are increasingly interested in the story behind the bottle as well.

    Who made it? Where did it come from? Why is this grape grown there? What makes this producer different? What does the wine taste like, and what might I want to eat with it?

    Those questions create a different kind of value.

    A relatively inexpensive bottle with a great story can become the wine everyone remembers from a dinner. Meanwhile, an expensive bottle selected solely because someone told you it was important can occasionally become little more than an expensive bottle.

    Wine has always been remarkably good at creating conversation.

    Perhaps we’re simply becoming more interested in what the conversation is about.

    people seated around a table and drinking beer
    Photo by ELEVATE on Pexels.com

    So, Are We Drinking Less?

    That’s probably the wrong question.

    A more interesting question is whether we’re becoming more intentional about drinking.

    The evidence suggests that the beverage landscape is becoming more diverse rather than simply smaller. Wine cocktails, smaller formats, ready-to-drink products and no- and low-alcohol beverages are expanding the ways consumers can participate, while traditional wine and spirits remain important for consumers who value them. The industry is responding not by replacing the old world, but by adding more choices to it.

    And that may ultimately be the most important change.

    For a long time, beverage marketing tried to tell consumers what a particular product meant. This was a wine for sophisticated people. This was a spirit for adventurous people. This was the bottle you bought for a celebration.

    Today, consumers seem increasingly willing to decide that meaning for themselves.

    That’s a significant shift.

    Wine was never really just about alcohol. At its best, it is about place, food, people, conversation, celebration and memory. The bottle is simply how those things arrive at the table.

    So perhaps the new rules aren’t really about drinking more or drinking less. They’re about having more freedom to decide what belongs in your glass, and when.

    Know the traditions. Understand the reasons behind them. Learn enough to appreciate the difference between convention and quality.

    Then make your own choice.

    After all, the best wine rule may be the one that has always mattered most:

    Drink what you enjoy, with the people you enjoy, in the moments worth remembering 🍷

    Cover Photo by John Lines on Pexels.com

  • Varietal Spotlight: Carménère

    Varietal Spotlight: Carménère

    The Grape Bordeaux Lost.

    Few grapes have a better story than Carménère. Once an important variety in Bordeaux, it nearly disappeared following the phylloxera epidemic of the nineteenth century. For more than a century, the wine world assumed Carménère was gone.

    It wasn’t. It had simply been hiding in plain sight.

    In the 1800s, European grapevines were brought to Chile, including vines believed to be Merlot. Among them were Carménère vines that had been misidentified. Chilean growers continued cultivating them for generations without realizing what they had.

    The mystery was finally solved in 1994, when French ampelographer Jean-Michel Boursiquot recognized that some of Chile’s “Merlot” was actually Carménère. DNA testing subsequently confirmed the discovery.

    What might have been an embarrassing case of mistaken identity became one of the great stories of modern wine. Chile had unknowingly preserved a grape that had virtually disappeared from its native Bordeaux.

    Today, Carménère is one of Chile’s signature varieties—and a wine that deserves far more attention.

    cluster of ripe grapes on a vine
    Photo by Gina Meyers on Pexels.com

    A Grape With Personality

    Carménère belongs to the Cabernet family and shares some characteristics with both Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc. Like those varieties, it can exhibit a distinctive herbal character, but its generally softer tannins and generous fruit give it a personality all its own.

    A ripe Carménère typically shows blackberry, black cherry, plum and raspberry, accompanied by notes of paprika, black pepper, herbs, cocoa and sometimes tobacco. Oak-aged examples can add vanilla, cedar and baking spice.

    The characteristic that often causes the most confusion is its green-pepper note.

    Carménère naturally contains methoxypyrazines, aromatic compounds that can produce aromas reminiscent of green bell pepper and fresh herbs. When the grapes are harvested too early, these characteristics can become harsh and vegetal. When the fruit is properly ripened, however, they can become one of the wine’s greatest attractions, suggesting roasted pepper, paprika and savory herbs rather than raw green vegetation.

    That distinction is important. Herbaceous doesn’t necessarily mean underripe.

    In a well-made Carménère, the savory character provides a fascinating counterpoint to ripe fruit and gives the wine an identity that is difficult to confuse with anything else.

    Gaboedds, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

    More Than One Style

    Carménère is sometimes treated as though it has a single personality, but its style varies considerably with vineyard site and winemaking.

    Fresh, fruit-driven examples tend to be medium-bodied, with cherry, raspberry and plum supported by soft tannins and refreshing acidity. These are excellent everyday wines and particularly approachable for someone discovering the variety for the first time.

    More concentrated examples show darker fruit alongside pepper, herbs, cocoa and spice. Premium bottlings may receive extended oak aging, developing greater structure and flavors of tobacco, chocolate, cedar and baking spice.

    There is also a more restrained side to Carménère emerging from cooler or higher-elevation vineyards. These wines can emphasize acidity, red fruit and herbal complexity rather than richness and power, demonstrating that the variety is capable of elegance as well as concentration.

    a person holding a wine glass with red wine
    Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

    Chile’s Signature Red

    Chile remains the essential place to explore Carménère.

    Colchagua Valley is its modern stronghold and contains the country’s largest concentration of plantings. Warm days, a long growing season and cooling influences from the Pacific and Andes allow Carménère to develop the ripeness it needs while retaining freshness. Within Colchagua, Apalta is particularly noted for producing concentrated, age-worthy examples.

    Cachapoal Valley is another important source, producing wines that can balance ripe fruit with Carménère’s characteristic herbal and savory notes. The grape is also planted in Maipo Valley, where it can take on a somewhat darker, more structured profile.

    The differences between these regions are worth exploring. Carménère is not simply a “Chilean wine” with one predictable flavor profile. Like all serious varieties, it reflects its vineyard.

    close up shot of delicious empanadas on wooden chopping board
    Photo by Daniel Torobekov on Pexels.com

    Carménère at the Table

    One of Carménère’s greatest strengths is its versatility with food. Its moderate tannins, acidity and savory character make it considerably more flexible than many full-bodied reds.

    Start with the grill. Steak, skirt steak, lamb chops, pork tenderloin and sausages all work beautifully, particularly when herbs, garlic or smoky seasonings are involved.

    Chimichurri is an especially natural match. The parsley, oregano, garlic and herbs echo Carménère’s own savory character, while the wine’s acidity refreshes the palate.

    It also works wonderfully with roasted pork, duck, turkey, mushrooms, eggplant, lentils and roasted peppers. And if you want to experience the grape in its cultural home, try it with Chilean dishes such as empanadas, pastel de choclo or a traditional asado.

    For a vegetarian pairing, grilled portobello mushrooms or roasted vegetables with herbs can be surprisingly good.

    Serving Carménère

    Carménère is best served a little cooler than many people serve red wine—around 60–65°F (16–18°C). If the bottle has been sitting at typical room temperature, 20–25 minutes in the refrigerator can make a noticeable difference.

    Use a medium-to-large red wine glass, particularly for fuller-bodied examples. Young, straightforward Carménère generally needs little or no decanting, while a concentrated, oak-aged bottle can benefit from 30–60 minutes of air.

    Older bottles require more care. Rather than automatically decanting a mature Carménère for hours, taste it first and let the wine tell you what it needs.

    The best examples can age gracefully, developing tobacco, leather, cedar, dried herbs and earthy complexity as the fruit evolves.

    The SOMM&SOMM Take

    Carménère is much more than a historical curiosity or an inexpensive alternative to Cabernet Sauvignon. Its story may begin with a case of mistaken identity, but its future is firmly its own.

    If you’ve never explored the variety, start with a well-made bottle from Colchagua or Cachapoal. Serve it slightly cool, give it a little time in the glass and pair it with something from the grill—or simply a dish built around roasted vegetables and fresh herbs.

    Look for ripe dark fruit first, followed by pepper, spice and that distinctive herbal character.

    When Carménère is at its best, the green note doesn’t dominate. It adds complexity.

    And perhaps that’s the most fitting way to think about this remarkable grape. Bordeaux may have lost Carménère, but Chile gave it a second life—and, in the process, created a wine that has finally become comfortable in its own identity 🍷

    Cover photo by Agne27, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

  • Celebrating The Wisdom of Time

    Celebrating The Wisdom of Time

    What 45 years can teach us about wine, life, and love.

    Time is one of wine’s most important ingredients.

    Not because time automatically makes wine better—it doesn’t. Most wine is meant to be enjoyed relatively young, and even wines capable of decades of aging require the right combination of grape, structure, vintage, winemaking, and storage.

    What time does, when given the right foundation, is something more interesting.

    It reveals character.

    hand holding a glass of wine
    Photo by Seljan Salimova on Pexels.com

    A young wine may announce itself with vibrant fruit, bright acidity, and immediate energy. With age, those characteristics can evolve. Aromas become more complex. Texture softens. Secondary and tertiary characteristics emerge. Individual components that once seemed distinct can begin to form something more integrated.

    The wine hasn’t simply become older.

    It has become different.

    And that distinction offers an interesting way to think about something else that develops over time: a marriage.

    vintage wine collection in french cellar
    Photo by Liv Kao on Pexels.com

    The Vintage Matters

    In wine, vintage refers to the year in which the grapes were harvested. It is more than a date on a label. Weather, growing conditions, vineyard decisions, and countless variables throughout the season influence the character of the finished wine.

    No two vintages are exactly alike.

    Some seasons are generous. Others challenge the grower. Heat, rain, drought, frost, storms, and harvest timing all leave their fingerprints.

    Yet a difficult vintage isn’t necessarily a meaningless one.

    It becomes part of the wine’s story.

    The same can be said of a life shared over decades.

    Forty-five years contains plenty of different “vintages.” There are seasons of celebration and seasons that demand resilience. There are years remembered for major milestones and others remembered simply because of the ordinary Thursday nights, long conversations, unexpected laughter, and quiet moments that filled them.

    A life together isn’t defined by a single year.

    It is the accumulation of every season.

    woman holding glass of wine
    Photo by Nadin Sh on Pexels.com

    The Art of Balance

    One of the most important concepts in wine is balance.

    A wine isn’t balanced because it lacks acidity, tannin, alcohol, fruit, or oak. Quite the opposite. Great wines often contain considerable amounts of each.

    Balance occurs when those elements work together rather than compete for attention.

    Age can help that integration occur.

    Tannins may soften. Acidity remains a structural backbone. Fruit characteristics evolve. Oak becomes less prominent. Aromas and flavors that once seemed separate can become part of a more harmonious whole.

    Long relationships have their own version of balance.

    Two people don’t become identical over time. They become increasingly familiar with the places where they are different—and increasingly skilled at understanding how those differences can complement rather than divide.

    The goal isn’t perfection.

    It is harmony.

    And like wine, harmony rarely happens all at once.

    close up shot of a holding hands
    Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

    What Time Reveals

    There is a common misconception that aging is simply a process of waiting.

    It isn’t.

    A wine cannot become great merely because it spends forty years in a cellar. If the wine lacks the necessary structure and balance to age, time will not create those qualities. It will simply reveal what was already there.

    The same principle applies to relationships.

    Time doesn’t manufacture character.

    It reveals it.

    Forty-five years provides an unusually long opportunity to discover who someone really is—not only in moments of celebration, but in difficult seasons, unexpected changes, ordinary routines, and all the moments that never make it into photographs.

    The remarkable thing isn’t that two people have spent forty-five years together.

    It is everything they have learned about one another during those years.

    couple holding hands and drinking champagne
    Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

    The People Around the Table

    For all the science, history, geography, and craftsmanship that make wine fascinating, there is another truth at the heart of wine culture:

    Wine is meant to be shared.

    A remarkable bottle can be evaluated through aroma, acidity, tannin, body, finish, provenance, vintage, and age.

    But none of those measurements can explain why a particular bottle becomes unforgettable.

    That often has little to do with the wine itself.

    It has to do with who was there.

    The bottle opened to celebrate a wedding. The wine poured at a milestone birthday. The bottle discovered on a memorable trip. The vintage saved for an occasion that finally arrived.

    Years later, the tasting notes may be forgotten.

    The people rarely are.

    That is one of the reasons wine remains such a powerful part of human culture. It creates an excuse to slow down, gather together, and give an ordinary moment the attention it deserves.

    Forty-Five Years

    This September marks forty-five years of marriage for Tammy and me.

    Forty-five years is a difficult number to comprehend when viewed as a single measurement of time. It becomes easier when viewed as a collection of seasons.

    Forty-five years of meals and conversations.

    Celebrations and challenges.

    Adventures and ordinary days.

    Thousands of decisions made together, large and small.

    Like a wine, a life together develops through accumulation. No single moment explains the finished character. Each one contributes something.

    And perhaps that is what makes forty-five years so meaningful.

    Not the number itself.

    The story contained within it.

    The Sapphire Anniversary

    Traditional anniversary gifts offer another interesting connection to wine.

    The 45th anniversary is associated with sapphire—a gemstone valued for its beauty, durability, and enduring character.

    Those qualities make the symbolism particularly fitting.

    After four and a half decades, love isn’t necessarily louder than it was in the beginning.

    It is deeper.

    It has more history.

    More context.

    More understanding.

    More evidence of having endured every season together.

    couple cheers together
    Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

    The Finest Pairing

    Wine has taught us a great deal about patience.

    It has taught us about place, season, craftsmanship, balance, and the extraordinary ways that time can transform something without changing its essential character.

    But perhaps its most important lesson is simpler.

    The best wine is not necessarily the oldest, rarest, or most expensive.

    It is the wine that belongs in the moment.

    A bottle shared with the right people can become part of a memory that lasts far longer than the wine itself.

    That is why, after forty-five years, the most meaningful measure isn’t how many bottles Tammy and I have opened, how many places we have visited, or how many milestones we have crossed.

    It is the people who have shared those moments with us.

    Wine may be the subject of SOMM&SOMM, but gathering around the table is what gives the subject meaning.

    Because ultimately, wine is not simply about what is in the glass.

    It is about what happens around it.

    woman and man hands holding glasses of champagne
    Photo by Valeria Boltneva on Pexels.com

    A Toast to Time

    Forty-five years is a remarkable vintage.

    It contains seasons we would happily repeat and others we would never choose again. It contains growth, change, patience, resilience, laughter, discovery, and an enormous amount of gratitude.

    Most importantly, it contains a life shared.

    Perhaps that is the real wisdom of time.

    It doesn’t necessarily make everything better.

    It makes what matters easier to recognize.

    And after forty-five years, there is one thing I recognize with absolute clarity:

    The finest things in life are rarely the things we collect.

    They are the people with whom we share them.

    So, as we raise a glass to forty-five years, we celebrate not simply an anniversary, but every ordinary day that made the extraordinary possible.

    And if you’d like to hear the rest of the story, there’s a song for that.

    Sapphire.

    “Before the gray… before the miles… there was your smile.”

    Happy 45th Anniversary, Tammy.

    Thank you for being my greatest adventure—and always my home 🥂

    Cover Photo by Doğu Tuncer on Pexels.com

  • The Spirit That Started With Wine

    The Spirit That Started With Wine

    There is a good chance you already know more about brandy than you realize.

    If you know wine, you understand its starting point. Brandy begins with fermented grapes, just as wine does. The difference is what happens next: instead of remaining wine, it is distilled, concentrated, and often aged in oak until something entirely new emerges.

    For a sommelier, that makes brandy particularly fascinating. It is one of the few spirits that allows you to follow a familiar ingredient from the vineyard into an entirely different world of flavor.

    And while Cognac may be the most famous expression, it is only the beginning.

    hennessy bottle on wooden table
    Photo by ConfinedRiley on Pexels.com

    So, What Exactly Is Brandy?

    At its simplest, brandy is a spirit produced by distilling fermented fruit. When the fruit is grapes, it is grape brandy.

    The process begins much like winemaking. Grapes are harvested, pressed, and fermented into wine. That wine is then distilled, separating and concentrating alcohol and aromatic compounds. What comes out of the still is a clear, intensely concentrated spirit called eau-de-vie (oh-duh-VEE).

    That spirit may be bottled young and clear, or it can spend years—even decades—in oak.

    This is where brandy develops its extraordinary range of character. Fresh fruit and floral notes can evolve into dried fruit, vanilla, spice, nuts, leather, tobacco, and the complex, savory character sometimes described as rancio.

    The barrel doesn’t simply give brandy its color. It becomes part of the spirit’s identity.

    And time does the rest.

    close up of a bottle of alcohol
    Photo by Duchess Iphie on Pexels.com

    Brandy With a Place Behind It

    Cognac is not simply a premium brandy. It is a protected geographical designation, much like Champagne or Burgundy.

    To be called Cognac, a spirit must come from the defined Cognac region of France and follow detailed rules governing grapes, vineyards, fermentation, distillation, aging, and labeling.

    Cognac is traditionally made primarily from Ugni Blanc grapes and distilled twice in copper pot stills. The resulting eau-de-vie is then aged in oak before it can become Cognac.

    The region is divided into six crus, including Grande Champagne, Petite Champagne, Borderies, Fins Bois, Bons Bois, and Bois Ordinaires. Those geographical distinctions can influence the character and aging potential of the spirit.

    For wine drinkers, this should sound familiar.

    Place matters.

    So does time.

    Understanding the Cognac Label

    The letters on a Cognac bottle are not simply marketing terms. They indicate the minimum age of the youngest eau-de-vie in the blend.

    • VS — Very Special: minimum two years old
    • VSOP — Very Superior Old Pale: minimum four years
    • Napoleon: minimum six years
    • XO — Extra Old: minimum ten years
    • XXO — Extra Extra Old: minimum fourteen years

    An important distinction: a 20-year-old eau-de-vie can be blended into an XO, but the designation is determined by the youngest component.

    That is one reason an XO Cognac can contain considerably older spirits.

    The Napoleon Brandy Myth: Legend vs. Truth

    The Myth: Napoleon Bonaparte was famously fond of Cognac and supposedly carried it with him during his military campaigns. According to the romantic version of the story, producers eventually honored him by naming an especially fine, aged brandy “Napoleon.”

    The Lore: The association isn’t entirely invented. Napoleon’s name became closely connected with Cognac in the 19th century, and stories of his appreciation for the spirit helped turn his name into a powerful marketing symbol for premium brandy.

    The Truth: The Napoleon designation is not a tribute that Napoleon himself created or an indication that Napoleon drank that particular Cognac. It is a legally defined Cognac age designation. Today, a Cognac labeled Napoleon must contain eau-de-vie aged for at least six years, based on the age of the youngest spirit in the blend.

    So when you see Napoleon on a Cognac label, think age category—not imperial endorsement.

    The emperor may have inspired the legend. The regulations determine what’s in the bottle.

    pile of brown wooden barrels
    Photo by Arthur Brognoli on Pexels.com

    Cognac’s Less Famous, More Rustic Sibling

    If Cognac is the polished ambassador of French brandy, Armagnac is the fascinating character you discover once you venture off the beaten path.

    Produced in Gascony, Armagnac is France’s oldest brandy-producing region. Its traditional distillation method is notably different from Cognac. Most Armagnac is distilled continuously through a distinctive column still rather than being double distilled in a pot still.

    The result can be remarkably expressive: ripe fruit, flowers, spice, earth, and a richer, more rustic character than many Cognacs.

    Armagnac also gives wine lovers another reason to pay attention. Vintage bottlings are relatively common, allowing you to explore the character of a particular harvest year rather than simply a house blend.

    There is even Blanche Armagnac, a clear, unaged expression that allows the fruit and distillation character to take center stage.

    If Cognac is the obvious place to begin, Armagnac is where curiosity starts to pay dividends.

    Brandy Isn’t Whiskey With a French Accent

    The familiar comparison between brandy and other aged spirits can be useful, but only if we start with what actually makes them different.

    SpiritPrimary raw materialWhat is distilled?
    Grape BrandyGrapesFermented grape wine
    WhiskeyGrainFermented grain mash
    RumSugarcaneFermented cane juice or molasses
    TequilaAgaveFermented cooked agave
    Brandy de JerezGrapesGrape wine

    The distinction is the raw material and the production tradition.

    A whiskey expresses grain.

    Rum expresses sugarcane.

    Tequila expresses agave.

    Grape brandy begins with wine.

    That is also why grappa and pisco should not simply be lumped into the same category. They are members of the broader family of grape-derived spirits, but their production methods and legal definitions are different.

    Grappa is distilled from grape pomace—the skins, seeds, and other solid material left after winemaking—rather than from wine itself.

    Pisco, produced under distinct regulations in Peru and Chile, is made from grapes but follows its own regional traditions and rules.

    They may share a family resemblance, but they tell very different stories.

    Why Isn’t Brandy Wine?

    This seems obvious until you think about it.

    Wine is produced through fermentation.

    Brandy is produced through distillation.

    The moment that fermented wine goes into the still, its character is concentrated and transformed. Alcohol and volatile compounds are separated from water and other components, creating a spirit with a completely different structure.

    That is why brandy isn’t simply “strong wine.”

    It is wine’s raw material transformed into something else.

    And that transformation is precisely what makes it fascinating.

    close up shot of alcoholic drink in a snifter glass
    Photo by Eva Bronzini on Pexels.com

    What Do You Look for in the Glass?

    One of the best ways to experience brandy is to approach it as you would a great wine.

    Pour a modest amount into a tulip-shaped glass rather than a large balloon. Look at the color, but don’t use it as a shortcut for age. Smell it before tasting, initially from a little distance so the alcohol doesn’t overwhelm the aromas.

    Then look for layers.

    Young brandy may show fresh grape, pear, peach, apricot, flowers, and citrus.

    Older examples can reveal dried fruit, vanilla, baking spice, roasted nuts, cocoa, tobacco, leather, and rancio.

    Take a small sip and allow it to move across the palate. Notice the texture, balance, warmth, length, and how the flavors change after swallowing.

    Then wait.

    A great brandy can evolve considerably in the glass.

    You can even add a few drops of water. Taste it first, then experiment. A small amount of dilution can sometimes reveal aromas hidden behind the spirit’s alcohol.

    There are no prizes for drinking it quickly.

    clear drinking glass on a coaster
    Photo by Vivita Malite on Pexels.com

    Neat Isn’t the Only Way to Enjoy It

    This is another misconception worth abandoning.

    A mature XO Cognac may deserve your full attention in a glass, but a younger VS or VSOP can be superb in a cocktail. A Sidecar or Vieux Carré is not a misuse of Cognac; those cocktails are part of its history and demonstrate how beautifully the spirit can work with other ingredients.

    Armagnac can be wonderful alongside food, particularly richer dishes, duck, game, mushrooms, and aged cheeses.

    And a clear Blanche Armagnac or young Pisco offers an entirely different experience for someone expecting every grape spirit to arrive amber and oak-aged.

    The right question isn’t whether there is one correct way to drink brandy.

    It is what does this particular brandy want to become?

    close up of liquor on glasses
    Photo by MARIANNE RIXHON on Pexels.com

    Start Exploring

    If you have never really experienced brandy, don’t begin by chasing the oldest or most expensive bottle on the shelf.

    Taste your way through the category.

    Start with a VS or VSOP Cognac to experience the fruit and the influence of oak. Move to an XO and see what additional years contribute. Then pour an Armagnac and notice how different the same basic idea can become.

    From there, explore grappa, Pisco, and other regional grape spirits.

    The differences are part of the fun.

    Because brandy isn’t simply an after-dinner drink, a brown spirit, or an alternative to whiskey.

    It is a second life for wine—one created through distillation, shaped by oak, and transformed by time.

    And once you taste a truly beautiful aged brandy, that dusty bottle sitting on the back of the liquor shelf may never look quite so ordinary again 🍇

    Cover Photo by Andrew Patrick Photo on Pexels.com

  • The 75-85-95 Rule

    The 75-85-95 Rule

    How Much Wine is Actually in Your Wine?

    There is a moment every wine lover eventually experiences.

    You pick up a bottle of California Cabernet Sauvignon. The label says Napa Valley. The wine looks serious. The price looks even more serious. You assume you know what is in the bottle.

    Mostly Cabernet Sauvignon. From Napa Valley.

    And you would be right.

    Mostly.

    Welcome to the wonderfully precise—and occasionally maddening—world of wine labeling laws.

    toast of wine glasses
    Photo by Vanessa Sezini on Pexels.com

    The good news is that American wine-labeling regulations are not designed to deceive consumers. They are designed to establish a legal threshold for what a winery can call a wine. The slightly less comforting news is that those thresholds leave room for other grapes, other places, and other vintages to join the party.

    For wine drinkers who care about what is actually in the glass, three numbers are worth remembering:

    75%. 85%. 95%.

    They are not arbitrary numbers. They are legal thresholds under U.S. wine-labeling regulations, and understanding them makes reading a wine label considerably more interesting.

    green plants on the field
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    The 75% Rule: “Cabernet Sauvignon” Doesn’t Necessarily Mean 100% Cabernet

    Wait…, What?

    Let’s start with the number that causes the most confusion.

    Under federal regulations, a California wine—or any American wine—may generally identify a single grape variety on the label if at least 75% of the wine is derived from that grape. The qualifying portion must also come from the stated appellation of origin.

    So a bottle labeled:

    Cabernet Sauvignon

    could legally contain:

    And the label can still legally call the wine Cabernet Sauvignon.

    Nothing nefarious happened. No sommelier needs to call the wine police.

    The remaining 25% simply does not have to be disclosed as part of the mandatory varietal designation.

    That distinction matters.

    The law establishes what a winery may call the wine, not necessarily everything that went into the tank.

    There are two exceptions to the normal 75% threshold: wines made from qualifying Vitis labrusca varieties, and wines made from varieties that TTB determines to be too strongly flavored for the 75% minimum, may use the varietal name at 51% or more. In those cases, the label must state ‘contains not less than 51% [variety].’

    For most of the familiar noble varieties, however, 75% is the number to remember.

    welcome billboard in napa valley in california in usa
    Photo by Mich Perez on Pexels.com

    The 85% Rule: Welcome to the AVA

    Now we get to the geography.

    If a wine carries an American Viticultural Area—an AVA—on the label, at least 85% of the wine must be derived from grapes grown within that AVA.

    That means a wine labeled:

    Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon

    is subject to two separate thresholds:

    Cabernet Sauvignon: at least 75%
    Napa Valley grapes: at least 85%

    Those numbers address different questions.

    The first tells us how much of the wine must be Cabernet Sauvignon.

    The second tells us how much of the wine must come from Napa Valley.

    And that creates an interesting little mathematical wine puzzle.

    Imagine a Napa Valley Cabernet labeled under the federal minimums. The wine could contain 75% Cabernet Sauvignon, while 85% of the total wine comes from Napa Valley.

    The regulations do not require the entire 85% Napa component to be Cabernet Sauvignon.

    In other words, the label tells you something important—but not everything.

    This is one reason experienced wine professionals pay attention to the combination of varietal designation and appellation, rather than treating either one as a complete ingredient list.

    And there is another wrinkle: the 85% AVA requirement concerns where the grapes were grown, not that every grape in the bottle came from the named AVA. Up to 15% can come from outside the AVA while the wine retains the AVA designation, provided the other requirements are met.

    That sounds like a loophole.

    Legally, it isn’t.

    It is the rule.

    a vineyard in the valley
    Photo by Karol Czinege on Pexels.com

    And Then There Is 95%

    The 95% figure gets particularly interesting.

    If a wine uses the name of a specific vineyard, orchard, farm, or ranch having geographical or viticultural significance, federal regulations generally require at least 95% of the wine to have been produced from primary winemaking material grown on that named property.

    So our three numbers now look something like this:

    What the label tells youMinimum requirement
    Single grape variety75%
    Named AVA85%
    Named vineyard/property95%

    There is another important 95% rule that wine lovers should know: when a wine carries a vintage date and a viticultural-area appellation, at least 95% of the wine must come from grapes harvested in that labeled year. If the wine uses a non-viticultural-area appellation, the vintage threshold is generally 85%.

    So if you see:

    2023 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon

    you are looking at three different legal concepts:

    • At least 75% Cabernet Sauvignon.
    • At least 85% from Napa Valley.
    • At least 95% from the 2023 harvest.

    The label is telling you quite a lot.

    But it still isn’t giving you the recipe.

    So Could a “Cabernet Sauvignon” Contain Merlot?

    Absolutely.

    And this is where the rules become useful rather than alarming.

    California Cabernet has a long history of blending with other Bordeaux varieties. Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot and Malbec can all contribute structure, aroma, color, texture or balance.

    A winery could produce a wine that is 80% Cabernet Sauvignon and 20% Merlot and label it simply Cabernet Sauvignon.

    That is perfectly legal.

    But if the winery chooses to put Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot on the label as the varietal designation, the rules change dramatically.

    When two or more grape varieties are named as the wine’s varietal designation, 100% of the grapes must be from the listed varieties, and the percentage of each must be stated on the label, subject to a ±2% tolerance.

    So:

    Cabernet Sauvignon

    could contain undisclosed other varieties.

    But:

    Cabernet Sauvignon 80%
    Merlot 20%

    accounts for the entire blend.

    That is a very useful distinction when reading a label.

    Is This Just an American Thing?

    No.

    Wine-producing countries around the world have developed their own systems for dealing with varietal and geographic labeling, and several use thresholds that look remarkably familiar.

    The details, however, can be quite different.

    European Union: Another 85% Threshold

    Under EU rules, when a single wine grape variety is named on a wine label, generally at least 85% of the product must be made from that variety. When two or more grape varieties are named, 100% of the wine must be made from those varieties, and they must appear in descending order of proportion.

    That means the European approach can actually provide a little more varietal specificity than the U.S. federal minimum.

    But there is an important caveat.

    European wines are also governed by protected designations of origin, protected geographical indications, national regulations and individual appellation rules. A Barolo, for example, is not simply subject to a generic European “85% rule.” The rules of its specific appellation matter.

    In Europe, geography can be every bit as important as grape variety.

    Sometimes more important.

    bottle and a glass of red wine
    Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

    Australia: Another Familiar Number

    Australia also uses an 85% threshold for single-variety labeling. Under Australian wine regulations, a wine made from two or more varieties can be described as a single variety when at least 850 mL/L—85%—comes from that variety. If multiple varieties are named, they must be listed in descending order, and the named varieties collectively must account for at least 85% of the wine. Each named variety must also be present in greater proportion than any variety that is not named.

    That last requirement is particularly interesting.

    Imagine:

    Cabernet Sauvignon 70%
    Merlot 20%
    Petit Verdot 10%

    Australia’s labeling rules allow the named varieties to account for the required 85%, but the naming order matters and an omitted variety cannot exceed a named variety.

    Again, the law is trying to strike a balance between practical winemaking and consumer information.

    New Zealand: 85%, With an Interesting Twist

    New Zealand also applies an 85% rule to variety, vintage and area-of-origin claims.

    But New Zealand’s guidance makes the consumer-protection intent especially clear: if a wine makes a claim about varieties, the named varieties must collectively represent at least 85%, must be listed in descending order, and a producer cannot name two varieties while leaving out another variety that represents a greater percentage than one of the named varieties.

    So a hypothetical wine containing:

    75% Cabernet Sauvignon
    15% Pinotage
    10% Merlot

    could not simply be presented as “Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot,” because Pinotage is present at a higher percentage than Merlot.

    That is a fascinating contrast with the U.S. system.

    Different countries are solving the same problem in different ways:

    How much information does a consumer reasonably expect from a varietal name?

    a person holding a glass of wine
    Photo by Nadin Sh on Pexels.com

    The Important Word Is “Minimum”

    This is where wine enthusiasts can get themselves into trouble.

    The legal threshold is a minimum, not an average and certainly not a target.

    A Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon might be:

    • 100% Cabernet Sauvignon
    • 95% Cabernet Sauvignon
    • 85% Cabernet Sauvignon
    • 75% Cabernet Sauvignon

    All could potentially carry the same basic varietal designation.

    And the wine could taste dramatically different.

    The law doesn’t tell us whether the winemaker chose to blend 5% Merlot because it improved the wine, because it corrected a difficult vintage, because it was traditional, or because the winemaker simply liked the result.

    Those are winemaking decisions.

    The label law merely establishes what can be printed on the bottle.

    That is why “legal” and “transparent” are not necessarily synonyms.

    A winery can comply completely with the law while still leaving the curious drinker wanting more information.

    person typing
    Photo by Donatello Trisolino on Pexels.com

    How Can You Find Out What Is Actually in the Bottle?

    This is where things get fun.

    You don’t need to become a wine detective with a trench coat and a magnifying glass.

    You just need to know where to look.

    1. Start With the Winery

    The winery’s website is usually your best first stop.

    Look for:

    • Technical sheets
    • Vintage notes
    • Wine specifications
    • Composition
    • Blend percentages
    • Vineyard sources
    • Appellation information
    • Winemaker notes

    Many producers voluntarily disclose much more than the law requires.

    And if you are particularly interested in a wine, send the winery an email.

    Ask a simple question:

    “Could you tell me the varietal composition of the current vintage?”

    You might be surprised how often someone will answer.

    2. Look Beyond the Front Label

    The back label can contain valuable clues.

    Some producers voluntarily list the blend. Others mention vineyard sources, individual blocks, cooperage, harvest dates or production details.

    And remember: if multiple varieties appear as the formal varietal designation, the percentages must be disclosed.

    But a marketing description of grapes on a back label can be treated differently from the formal varietal designation. TTB has specifically addressed circumstances in which wineries may voluntarily list varieties as additional information, provided the information is truthful and not misleading.

    So don’t assume every grape name printed somewhere on a bottle carries exactly the same legal meaning.

    3. Scan the QR Code

    Increasingly, wineries are putting detailed information behind QR codes.

    Sometimes that takes you to marketing material.

    Sometimes it takes you to a remarkably detailed technical sheet.

    When it does, look for the blend composition, not merely the tasting notes.

    “Expressive aromas of blackberry, violet and graphite” tells you what the wine tastes like.

    “Cabernet Sauvignon 82%, Merlot 10%, Petit Verdot 8%” tells you what it is.

    Those are two very different kinds of information.

    4. Ask Your Sommelier or Wine Merchant

    This is perhaps the easiest method.

    a man holding a wineglass
    Photo by Pavel Danilyuk on Pexels.com

    A good sommelier, wine educator or knowledgeable retailer will often have access to distributor sheets, winery technical information or importer documentation that never makes it onto the bottle.

    And if they don’t know?

    A good answer is:

    “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

    That’s better wine service than inventing an answer.

    5. Search the TTB Public COLA Registry

    Here is the slightly nerdier—and wonderfully useful—option.

    The U.S. Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau maintains a Public COLA Registry, where consumers can search approved wine labels. The database contains approved, expired, surrendered and revoked Certificates of Label Approval, and label images are generally available for approvals dating back to 1999. No registration is required.

    The registry can sometimes reveal label information that isn’t immediately obvious from the bottle sitting in front of you.

    There is an important limitation, however: the public COLA system does not provide the winery’s complete formula.TTB itself notes that formula information is not available publicly through the registry.

    So the COLA Registry can help answer:

    “What did the government approve this label to say?”

    It cannot necessarily answer:

    “Exactly how many gallons of Merlot went into this tank?”

    For that, you still need the winery.

    A Sommelier’s Trick: Read the Label as a Set of Questions

    Instead of looking at a wine label and asking, “What is this?”

    Try asking:

    What is the grape?

    If one grape is named, remember the 75% U.S. threshold.

    Where is it from?

    If an AVA is named, remember 85%.

    Is a specific vineyard named?

    Think 95%.

    What vintage is it?

    With an AVA on a U.S. wine, think 95% from that harvest year.

    Are multiple varieties listed?

    In the United States, if they are being used as the formal varietal designation, they must account for 100% of the blend and the percentages must be shown.

    Then ask the most important question:

    What isn’t the label telling me?

    That is where wine gets interesting.

    colorful wine bottles displayed on wooden rack
    Photo by Daniel Maurício Bertoli on Pexels.com

    The Label Is a Map, Not a Recipe

    Wine labels were never designed to be complete ingredient panels.

    They are a combination of legal requirements, geographic identity, marketing, tradition and storytelling.

    The law gives us useful guardrails. It tells us that a Napa Valley wine cannot contain 50% grapes from somewhere else and still casually call itself Napa Valley. It tells us that a bottle labeled Cabernet Sauvignon must contain a substantial majority of Cabernet Sauvignon. It tells us that a named vineyard has an even higher threshold.

    But those numbers also remind us that a bottle labeled Cabernet Sauvignon does not necessarily mean 100% Cabernet Sauvignon.

    And that is not necessarily a bad thing.

    Blending is one of the great tools of the winemaker.

    A few percent of Petit Verdot can deepen a Cabernet’s color and structure. Merlot can soften the edges. Cabernet Franc can add aromatic lift. A touch of another grape can turn a good wine into a great one.

    The real issue isn’t that blending exists.

    It’s whether we understand what the label actually promises.

    So the next time you pick up a California Cabernet, don’t squint suspiciously at the bottle as though it has something to hide.

    Give it a little credit.

    The label is telling you the truth.

    It just may not be telling you the whole story.

    And in wine, as in life, that is often where the fun begins 🍷

    The Fine Print: Our Sources

    Wine-labeling laws are anything but casual, so we went straight to the source. The varietal, appellation, vintage, and 51% labeling thresholds discussed in this article are based on regulations and guidance published by the U.S. Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau (TTB).

    Primary Sources

    SOMM&SOMM Note: Wine laws evolve, and individual appellations may impose requirements more restrictive than federal minimums. The regulations cited above reflect the federal framework applicable to American wine labeling. When in doubt about what is actually in the bottle, ask the producer. The label may tell you what the law requires. The winemaker can tell you the rest of the story.

    Cover Photo by Elijah Cobb on Pexels.com

  • What’s in the Mash?

    What’s in the Mash?

    Understanding Bourbon’s Recipe, Its Sour Side, and What Actually Ends Up in Your Glass.

    Spend enough time around bourbon and you will eventually hear the language: high rye, wheated, mash bill, sour mash, sweet mash, backset.

    For experienced whiskey drinkers, these terms are familiar. For everyone else, they can sound like a secret vocabulary designed to make a simple glass of bourbon seem more complicated than it is.

    The truth is more interesting.

    These terms describe different stages of bourbon production, and understanding the distinction can help explain why two bourbons made from the same basic ingredients can taste remarkably different.

    Start with the mash bill.

    Then, consider what happens to it.

    buckwheat groats meal in a military cooking pot
    Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

    The Mash Bill Is the Recipe

    Every bourbon begins with a grain recipe.

    By law, bourbon must be made from a fermented mash containing at least 51% corn. The remaining grains can include rye, wheat, malted barley, or other permitted cereal grains. Those proportions are what distillers refer to as the mash bill.

    Think of it as bourbon’s recipe.

    Corn provides much of bourbon’s familiar sweetness and roundness. Rye can contribute spice, structure, and a more assertive character. Wheat tends to produce a softer, sweeter impression, while malted barley plays an important role in converting starches into fermentable sugars.

    The proportions matter.

    A bourbon made with a significant amount of rye may seem peppery, herbal, or more energetic. A wheated bourbon can feel softer, creamier, and more confectionary. A bourbon with a relatively traditional grain balance may occupy a comfortable middle ground.

    But there is an important caveat.

    The mash bill does not determine the entire flavor of a bourbon.

    It is the beginning of the conversation.

    Fermentation, yeast, distillation, barrel selection, barrel entry proof, maturation, warehouse conditions, climate, aging time, and blending can all influence what eventually arrives in the bottle.

    The recipe matters.

    So does everything that happens after the recipe is mixed.

    pile of roasted corn kernels in kahramanmaras
    Photo by Ömer Furkan Yakar on Pexels.com

    Corn Is Only the Beginning

    Because bourbon requires a minimum of 51% corn, it is tempting to think of the remaining grains as supporting characters.

    They are not.

    The so-called flavoring grains can have an enormous influence on how a bourbon presents itself.

    Rye is often associated with spice and intensity. Think baking spices, black pepper, mint, and a certain dryness or lift on the palate.

    Wheat generally moves in another direction. It can create an impression of softness and sweetness, with flavors that may remind the drinker of caramel, vanilla, pastry, or ripe fruit.

    Malted barley contributes enzymes needed during the production process and can also influence the character of the finished spirit.

    None of these descriptions should be treated as a tasting formula.

    A high-rye bourbon does not have to taste spicy. A wheated bourbon is not automatically sweet. The grain bill creates possibilities; production and maturation determine how many of those possibilities ultimately make it into the glass.

    That distinction is worth remembering.

    Ingredients influence character. They don’t dictate it.

    a man during tequila production process
    Photo by Israel Torres on Pexels.com

    Then There Is Sour Mash

    This is where bourbon terminology can become confusing.

    Sour mash sounds as though it should describe flavor.

    It doesn’t.

    In the bourbon world, sour mash refers to a production technique in which a portion of the acidic liquid left over from a previous distillation is added to a new mash. This liquid is commonly called backset or stillage.

    The purpose is not to make sour bourbon.

    The technique helps distillers control the acidity of the fermentation environment, creating conditions that are more consistent from one batch to the next.

    And consistency matters.

    Fermentation is a living process. Yeast converts sugars into alcohol and produces a wide range of compounds along the way. Those compounds can contribute significantly to the eventual aroma and flavor of whiskey.

    By using backset, distillers can help establish a more predictable environment for that fermentation.

    So when you see or hear sour mash, think process—not flavor.

    jack daniel s bottle
    Photo by Foodie Factor on Pexels.com

    The Word “Sour” Is Doing a Lot of Misleading Work

    There is a persistent misconception that sour mash bourbon should taste sour.

    It shouldn’t.

    The term describes what happens during production, not what you should expect on your palate.

    In fact, sour mash is better understood as a method of maintaining consistency.

    It is somewhat like using a portion of an established culture when beginning a new fermentation. The analogy is not exact, but it helps illustrate the underlying idea: the previous batch contributes something to the conditions of the next one.

    The goal is not necessarily to make every batch identical.

    The goal is to give the distiller greater control over the variables.

    And bourbon has plenty of variables already.

    Little-known fact: Woodford Reserve Distillers Select is, in fact, produced from sour mash.

    What About Sweet Mash?

    If sour mash uses backset, sweet mash takes the opposite approach.

    A sweet mash is made with fresh ingredients without incorporating the acidic backset from a previous distillation.

    That may sound like a minor technical distinction.

    It isn’t.

    Without backset, the distiller has a different fermentation environment to manage. The resulting fermentation can behave differently, potentially creating a different collection of flavor compounds before the liquid ever reaches the still.

    Sweet mash production is less common in American whiskey than sour mash production, but it has attracted considerable interest among whiskey enthusiasts and distillers.

    For the curious drinker, it offers an intriguing reminder:

    The character of whiskey begins long before the barrel.

    Mash Bill and Sour Mash Are Not Opposites

    This may be the most important point in the entire conversation.

    Mash bill and sour mash describe two different things.

    One is the grain recipe.

    The other is a fermentation practice.

    A bourbon can have a high-rye mash bill and be produced using sour mash.

    A bourbon can have a wheated mash bill and be produced using sour mash.

    The two concepts can coexist because they answer different questions.

    Mash bill asks: What grains are we using?

    Sour mash asks: How are we managing the fermentation environment?

    Once that distinction becomes clear, bourbon labels and distillery conversations become considerably easier to understand.

    brown wooden barrels on wooden rack
    Photo by Rachel Claire on Pexels.com

    The Barrel Still Gets the Last Word

    Even after the mash has been fermented and distilled, the story is far from finished.

    New, charred oak is one of bourbon’s defining characteristics, and maturation can dramatically reshape the spirit.

    Time extracts compounds from the wood. The whiskey moves into and out of the barrel as temperatures change. Oxidation and evaporation gradually alter the liquid. The interaction between spirit and oak can produce familiar bourbon notes of vanilla, caramel, toasted sugar, coconut, spice, dried fruit, and sometimes darker flavors reminiscent of tobacco or leather.

    This is why knowing a bourbon’s mash bill can be useful without being predictive.

    You might know that a bourbon contains a significant percentage of rye. You still don’t know exactly what it will taste like.

    You might know that it is wheated. You still don’t know how the distillery’s fermentation, distillation, maturation, and blending decisions will express that wheat.

    The mash gives us clues.

    The barrel gives us more.

    close up of whiskey in crystal glasses
    Photo by Konstantin Mishchenko on Pexels.com

    So What Should You Look For in the Glass?

    The next time you pour a bourbon, consider working backward.

    Don’t simply ask whether you like it.

    Ask why you like it.

    Is the sweetness broad and corn-driven, or does it feel more like vanilla and caramel from oak maturation?

    Does the whiskey have a peppery or herbal lift that might reflect its rye component?

    Does it feel particularly soft and rounded?

    Is the finish spicy, sweet, dry, tannic, fruity, or surprisingly savory?

    Then look at the production information.

    If the mash bill is available, see whether it helps explain what you experienced.

    If the bottle or distillery discusses sour mash, remember what that term actually means. It is not a tasting descriptor. It is part of the process that helped create the spirit in your glass.

    And if the bourbon doesn’t taste the way the mash bill would lead you to expect?

    That’s not a contradiction.

    That’s whiskey.

    The Recipe Is Only the Beginning

    Wine drinkers are accustomed to thinking about varieties, vineyards, soils, fermentation, oak, and vintage as pieces of a much larger story.

    Bourbon deserves the same curiosity.

    The mash bill tells us what the distiller started with. Sour mash tells us something about how the fermentation was managed. Distillation determines what ultimately becomes spirit. The barrel then spends years transforming that spirit into whiskey.

    Each stage leaves an impression.

    That is why two bourbons can share the same legal definition yet possess completely different personalities.

    The next time someone tells you that a bourbon is “high rye” or “sour mash,” you’ll know that those words aren’t competing descriptions.

    One tells you about the recipe.

    The other tells you about the process.

    And somewhere between the two—and everything that follows—is the bourbon you’re actually drinking.

    The most interesting spirits aren’t necessarily the ones with the longest stories.

    They’re the ones that make you want to understand the story.

    So the next time you lift a glass of bourbon, look beyond the label. Consider the grains, the fermentation, the still, the barrel, and the time.

    Then take a sip.

    The recipe started the conversation. The whiskey gets the final word 🥃

    Cover Photo by Andrew Patrick Photo on Pexels.com

  • Smoke, Fire & Wine

    Smoke, Fire & Wine

    Why the Grill Changes Everything About Wine Pairing.

    The moment food meets fire, it begins to change. Sugars caramelize. Proteins brown. Smoke settles into every surface. Flavors become deeper, richer, and more complex. A wine that seemed perfectly suited to the raw ingredients may suddenly feel out of place, while another comes alive in ways that are impossible to predict without understanding what the fire has created.

    fire burning in stove
    Photo by Darya Grey_Owl on Pexels.com

    Fire Is an Ingredient

    When discussing food and wine pairing, we often focus on the ingredients themselves.

    Beef pairs with Cabernet Sauvignon.

    Fish pairs with Chardonnay.

    Chicken pairs with Pinot Noir.

    These guidelines provide a useful starting point, but they overlook one of the most influential ingredients in the entire meal.

    Fire.

    Whether food is cooked over hardwood, charcoal, propane, or an open flame, heat fundamentally changes its chemistry. The transformation extends well beyond texture. Smoke introduces new aromas. Caramelization develops sweetness. Browning creates layers of savory complexity that never existed in the raw ingredients.

    The grill does not simply cook food.

    It creates new flavors.

    Those flavors deserve wines capable of meeting them.

    Smoke Speaks Loudly

    Smoke is among the most expressive flavors in cooking.

    It can be delicate, as with cedar-planked salmon, or deeply assertive, as in slow-smoked brisket. It may suggest toasted herbs, charred citrus, roasted nuts, or warm spices depending on the fuel, cooking method, and ingredients.

    Because smoke lingers on the palate, it has a profound influence on wine.

    Highly oaked wines often compete with smoky foods rather than complement them, creating an impression of excessive wood or bitterness. Wines with vibrant fruit, balanced acidity, and restrained oak generally allow the smoky character of the food to remain the focal point while providing freshness between each bite.

    The objective is not to match smoke with more smoke.

    It is to bring balance to the experience.

    juicy steaks sizzling on a smoky grill
    Photo by Mohamed Olwy on Pexels.com

    Char Is Not Burnt

    One of the greatest misunderstandings in outdoor cooking is confusing char with burning.

    A beautifully grilled steak develops a dark crust through the Maillard reaction, a series of chemical changes that occur when amino acids and natural sugars are exposed to high heat. This reaction creates hundreds of new flavor compounds responsible for aromas that resemble toasted bread, roasted coffee, caramel, nuts, and browned butter.

    Burning, by contrast, produces bitterness that can overwhelm both food and wine.

    Understanding this distinction explains why a properly grilled ribeye welcomes a structured Cabernet Sauvignon or Syrah, while an overcooked steak can make even the finest bottle seem harsh.

    Great grilling is not about cooking longer.

    It is about cooking with intention.

    piece of meat on a fork
    Photo by Augustinus Martinus Noppé on Pexels.com

    Acidity Becomes More Important Outdoors

    Summer entertaining often includes rich marinades, barbecue sauces, herb butters, and foods that spend hours over glowing coals.

    These preparations increase richness while smoke adds another layer of intensity.

    Acidity becomes essential.

    A vibrant wine refreshes the palate after each bite, allowing the next mouthful to remain as satisfying as the first. Without sufficient acidity, both food and wine can begin to feel heavy as the meal progresses.

    This explains why wines such as Barbera, Rioja Crianza, dry Riesling, Albariño, and many rosés perform so well alongside grilled cuisine. Their freshness provides contrast without sacrificing flavor.

    Balance, rather than power, becomes the defining characteristic.

    grilled shrimps
    Photo by Julia Filirovska on Pexels.com

    Pairing Beyond Red Meat

    The grill has expanded far beyond burgers and steaks.

    Seafood, vegetables, fruit, and even cheese develop remarkable character over live fire, often creating opportunities for pairings that surprise experienced wine drinkers.

    Grilled shrimp brushed with olive oil and lemon finds a natural companion in Albariño, whose citrus and mineral qualities mirror the freshness of the dish while standing comfortably beside the subtle smokiness of the grill.

    Cedar-planked salmon develops richness that often elevates Pinot Noir above many white wines. The wine’s bright acidity and restrained tannins complement the fish without overwhelming its delicate texture.

    grilled vegetables plate bell pepper zucchini onion
    Photo by Valeria Boltneva on Pexels.com

    Grilled vegetables deserve equal attention. Bell peppers, zucchini, asparagus, eggplant, and mushrooms all become sweeter through caramelization, inviting wines with moderate body and lively fruit. A chilled Beaujolais, dry rosé, or Vermentino often proves every bit as successful as more traditional choices.

    The grill rewards curiosity.

    Some of its finest pairings are found beyond the steakhouse.

    When Sauce Changes the Wine

    Many people assume the protein determines the pairing.

    More often than not, the sauce has the final word.

    A grilled pork chop served with an herb butter calls for a different wine than the same chop coated in a sweet barbecue glaze. Smoky tomato sauces favor wines with bright acidity, while mustard-based sauces often benefit from wines that offer generous fruit without excessive tannin. Spicy preparations invite wines with moderate alcohol and expressive aromatics rather than overwhelming structure.

    The grill may provide the foundation.

    The sauce often completes the conversation.

    Don’t Forget the Chill

    Outdoor temperatures influence wine just as surely as they influence food.

    A full-bodied red served at typical indoor room temperature may become noticeably warmer after only a few minutes on a sunny patio. As temperature rises, alcohol becomes more pronounced and freshness begins to fade.

    The solution is surprisingly simple.

    Many red wines improve when served slightly cooler than tradition suggests, especially during the summer months. Fifteen to twenty minutes in the refrigerator before serving allows Pinot Noir, Grenache, Gamay, and even lighter expressions of Syrah to retain their balance throughout the meal.

    Likewise, white wines need not emerge from an ice bath at near-freezing temperatures. Excessive chilling suppresses aroma, leaving beautifully expressive wines tasting muted and one-dimensional.

    Wine should refresh.

    It should also speak.

    friends standing around a barbecue grill
    Photo by Kampus Production on Pexels.com

    Fire Brings People Together

    Perhaps the greatest similarity between grilling and wine has little to do with flavor.

    Both encourage people to gather.

    Few culinary traditions are as communal as cooking over live fire. Someone tends the grill while others prepare the table. Conversations drift between recipes, stories, and memories. Glasses are topped off without ceremony, and the evening gradually extends beyond the meal itself.

    The fire becomes more than a source of heat.

    It becomes the center of the gathering.

    Wine has always played a similar role. At its best, it draws people closer, slows the pace of the evening, and reminds us that hospitality has never been measured by complexity or expense.

    It is measured by generosity.

    More Than a Meal

    There is a reason food cooked over fire has captivated humanity for thousands of years.

    Fire transforms.

    It changes ingredients into something richer than they were before. Smoke adds depth. Heat develops sweetness. Time rewards patience.

    Wine undergoes its own transformation, beginning in the vineyard and continuing through fermentation, aging, and finally the moment it is shared.

    Perhaps that is why the partnership feels so natural.

    One is shaped by the land.

    The other by the flame.

    Together, they remind us that some of life’s greatest pleasures are created not by rushing the process, but by allowing time, craftsmanship, and a little smoke to work their quiet magic.

    glass of wine and cut meat steak served with potatoes and vegetable salad
    Photo by ArtHouse Studio on Pexels.com

    From the SOMM&SOMM Table

    The next time you light the grill, think beyond the main ingredient. Consider what the fire is adding to the meal and choose a wine that complements those new flavors rather than competing with them. The finest pairing is rarely about matching beef with Cabernet or fish with Chardonnay.

    It is about understanding what the flame has created 🍷

    Cover photo by Antonius Ferret on Pexels.com

  • The Calm Before the Crush

    The Calm Before the Crush

    Why August May Be the Most Important Month in the Vineyard.

    Long before the first grape is harvested, before the fermenters come alive and before a vintage receives its first score, there is a season of remarkable stillness. For those who know where to look, it is also the season when the story of the wine is quietly being written.

    A Vineyard Holding Its Breath

    Visit a vineyard in early August and you may wonder why harvest is spoken of with such anticipation.

    There are no tractors weaving between the rows. No crews filling bins with fruit. The cellar remains quiet, and the vines appear content beneath another warm summer afternoon. To the casual observer, little seems to be happening.

    Yet this is one of the busiest times of the year.

    Not with movement, but with attention.

    Every sunrise brings subtle changes to the fruit. Sugar continues to accumulate as the vine transforms sunlight into energy. Acidity begins its gradual decline. Aromatic compounds emerge almost imperceptibly, while tannins slowly mature within the skins and seeds. None of these changes announce themselves in dramatic fashion, yet together they determine whether the coming vintage will be merely good or truly memorable.

    August is often described as the calm before the crush, but calm should never be mistaken for inactivity. It is a month defined by patience, observation, and countless small decisions that rarely receive the recognition they deserve.

    colorful bunch of grapes in sunlight
    Photo by MEHMET KAYNAR on Pexels.com

    When the Vineyard Changes Color

    Weeks before harvest, vineyards undergo one of their most beautiful transformations.

    Known as veraison, this stage marks the beginning of ripening. Red varieties gradually exchange bright green berries for shades of crimson, violet, and deep blue, while white grapes soften into translucent hues of gold and amber.

    The change is visually striking, but what occurs beneath the skin is even more remarkable.

    Photosynthesis fuels the steady accumulation of sugar while organic acids begin to recede. The seeds, once soft and green, mature and darken. Tannins lose their aggressive bitterness, preparing to contribute texture rather than astringency. At the same time, the compounds responsible for aroma and flavor begin expressing the character we later recognize in the finished wine.

    The vineyard is no longer focused on growing fruit.

    It is refining it.

    Photo by User:Kandschwar, CC BY-SA 2.0 DE, via Wikimedia Commons

    Beyond the Brix

    One of the most common misconceptions about harvest is that it begins when grapes become sweet enough.

    Sweetness certainly matters. Winemakers routinely measure sugar using degrees Brix to estimate potential alcohol after fermentation, and those measurements provide valuable guidance throughout the season. Yet experienced growers know that chemistry alone rarely determines the harvest date.

    A vineyard can produce fruit with ideal sugar levels while the tannins remain coarse or the flavors surprisingly undeveloped. Another block may show exceptional aromatic complexity while still retaining acidity that promises greater balance with another week on the vine.

    For that reason, August is filled with quiet routines that have changed remarkably little over generations. Growers walk the rows carrying notebooks instead of baskets, tasting berries from different sections of the vineyard, comparing sun-exposed clusters with those shaded beneath the canopy, breaking open seeds, feeling the texture of the skins, and noting how each vine responds to its own small piece of the landscape.

    Laboratory analyses provide certainty about numbers.

    Walking the vineyard provides confidence in the decision.

    The finest wines require both.

    Decisions That Cannot Be Automated

    Modern viticulture has embraced extraordinary technology. Satellites reveal differences in vine vigor across entire estates. Drones detect water stress long before it becomes visible from the ground. Weather stations monitor temperature, humidity, and disease pressure almost continuously, while laboratory instruments measure sugar, acidity, and pH with remarkable precision.

    These tools have transformed vineyard management, yet they have not replaced experience.

    man holding grapes in garden
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    A veteran grower notices how one corner of a vineyard consistently ripens a few days later because cool evening air settles across the slope. Another recognizes that a particular block responds differently after a dry winter than it does following abundant spring rainfall. Years of observation create a familiarity that cannot be downloaded into software or captured on a satellite image.

    The decisions made during August often reflect this combination of science and intuition. Should irrigation continue for another few days to support the vine, or should mild water stress encourage greater concentration in the fruit? Would opening the canopy improve airflow and reduce disease pressure, or would exposing the clusters to intense afternoon sun do more harm than good? Is the forecasted rain significant enough to justify harvesting earlier than planned, or does the vineyard still have time to develop greater complexity?

    Every vintage asks these questions differently.

    The answers are never found in a single measurement.

    vibrant grapes on vine in georgian vineyard
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    Nature Always Has the Final Word

    No agricultural product reflects the growing season quite like wine.

    A warm summer followed by cool nights may preserve brilliant acidity while allowing flavors to develop slowly. A prolonged heatwave can accelerate ripening, compressing decisions that growers expected to make over several weeks into only a few days. Unexpected rain near harvest may swell the berries and dilute concentration, while drought can produce smaller fruit with remarkable intensity.

    Even neighboring vineyards planted with the same grape variety may tell different stories. A slight difference in elevation, a change in soil composition, or a prevailing afternoon breeze can influence how the fruit matures from one property to the next.

    This is why wine is identified not only by producer or grape variety, but by vintage.

    Each year becomes a permanent record of the season that created it.

    The Discipline of Patience

    Perhaps the greatest challenge in August is resisting the temptation to mistake readiness for ripeness.

    As sugar rises, the fruit begins to look complete. The clusters are beautifully colored, the berries taste increasingly sweet, and harvest feels tantalizingly close. Yet flavor often continues evolving after appearance suggests otherwise.

    Phenolic ripeness—the maturity of tannins, skins, and seeds—develops at its own pace. The subtle floral notes that distinguish one vineyard from another, the spice that adds complexity to Syrah, or the layered black fruit that defines exceptional Cabernet Sauvignon may all depend upon days that seem insignificant on a calendar.

    Those days are rarely insignificant.

    Choosing to wait requires confidence, because patience carries its own risks. Birds become increasingly interested in the fruit. Storm systems grow more unpredictable. Heat can intensify unexpectedly, and disease pressure may rise almost overnight.

    Harvest is not a search for perfection.

    It is the art of recognizing the moment when balance has been achieved and accepting that nature will not wait forever.

    photo of a vineyard at sunset
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    A Living Vineyard

    Stand quietly in a vineyard during August and it is easy to believe that little is changing. The rows appear still beneath the afternoon sun, broken only by the movement of leaves in a gentle breeze.

    The reality is far more dynamic.

    Within every vine, water continues its journey from root to leaf. Photosynthesis quietly powers the development of each cluster. Beneath the soil, an astonishing community of microorganisms interacts with the roots, influencing nutrient availability and the overall health of the vineyard. Native yeasts settle naturally on the grape skins, becoming part of the invisible ecosystem that has accompanied winemaking for centuries.

    A vineyard is not simply a collection of grapevines.

    It is a living environment whose countless relationships ultimately shape the character of the wine.

    Understanding that complexity is one of the reasons great growers spend so much time walking their vineyards rather than merely managing them.

    close up of hand cutting grapes with pruners
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    The Vintage Begins Here

    Months from now, harvest photographs will fill social media. Fermentation will command attention inside the cellar. Barrels will quietly transform young wine into something more refined, and eventually a bottle will find its way onto someone’s table.

    By then, August will have been largely forgotten.

    Yet every swirl in the glass will carry the memory of these quiet weeks. It will reflect mornings spent tasting berries before the heat of the day. It will reveal the patience to wait when waiting felt uncertain and the wisdom to act when the vineyard had finally spoken.

    The harvest may be the most visible chapter in the life of a wine, but it is rarely the chapter that determines its character.

    That story begins earlier, during a season when little appears to be happening at all.

    It begins in the calm before the crush.

    From the SOMM&SOMM Table

    The next time you pour a glass of wine, pause for a moment before taking the first sip. Consider the vineyard weeks before harvest, when the fruit hung quietly beneath the summer sun and every important decision remained a conversation between the grower, the land, and the season.

    The bottle in your hand is not simply the product of harvest.

    It is the result of patience 🍷

    Cover photo by M. Rohana on Pexels.com