Wine Appreciation

During this season of revelry, you may find yourself at gatherings featuring the nectar of the grape. If you and your friends are of a certain age*, this consumption could take the form of judicious sips from actual stemware, followed by hushed contemplation, thoughtful discussion, and near-lethal boredom. You may be tempted to fake a phone call, or a seizure, so you can escape and search for the nearest real party**, but this is considered bad form. However, you aren't doomed to endure an evening of tedium. Science has discovered a consistent 1:3 ratio of wine snobs to wine bottles***, and since the bottles aren't going to provide much entertainment, the snobs will have to do. All you need are a few handy phrases, and you too can join in worshiping the waste product of yeast.

Like abstract art criticism (“This piece displays an insouciant solemnity in counterpoint to its theme of creative decay. The artist studied in Newfoundland, you know"), wine appreciation relies heavily on paired antonyms. Once you memorize a few additional descriptors, you'll be ready to slosh, sip and spit with the most sophisticated oenophiles. The following terms will get you through an evening; just reaarange them for each new bottle.

“This Topo Grigio charms the palate with its degenerate innocence of citrus, punctuated by a rich chalkiness and a palsied twitch of over-upholstered pomegranate, threaded through a stony finish of musty acidity, with a lingering top note of, am I right, peonies?" Then sit back while the wine snobs debate whether there is indeed a hint of peony, or is it perhaps anise?

Stuff a few of the tiny napkins in your mouth if you get the urge to laugh. It's considered gauche to giggle wine out your nose.****

*and not Newfoundlanders

** with Newfoundlanders

*** not valid in Newfoundland

**** except in Newfoundland