Sometimes I learn the most about wine—and wine drinkers—when I’m taken out of my normal routine. That was the case this past weekend when I provided wine pairings and some entertainment at a private dinner. Getting to interact with people who are interested in wine in a different setting than a restaurant or wine shop allowed for a greater range and depth of questions, and in answering them, I learned quite a bit about what people are afraid to ask in those more pressure-packed setting.
They want to know more about Northwest wine regions than just Walla Walla and the Willamette Valley. This one was a bit of a surprise to me, since in picking out the wines for the evening I’d opted for slightly obscure wines, anticipating that this might spook a few guests. As it turns out, people were eager to hear about Rogue Valley, the Columbia Gorge and Lake Chelan. That’s not to say that the old standbys have any reason to be worried, but it was fun to see enthusiasm for the more obscure corners of the Northwest wine industry.
Stories matter. In picking my wines, I selected for not just deliciousness but also for the unique stories the wines could tell. Part of the fun in working with local wines is that they’re often made by people I know, and some of their personality is expressed in the wine itself. Being able to share that brought the table to life—it’s incredibly compelling to look at a wine as more than just fermented grape juice, but as the expression of a single person’s vision and sense of self.
Rosé and white wines have a hurdle to clear. These people had plenty of reasons to trust me, and yet even still there was skepticism about the rosé and white wine I poured. In my little wine bubble, rosé and white wine are beloved, which makes it easy to forget that for many they inspire not excitement but dread. The sickly-sweet wines that mark many drinkers’ foray into the world of wine are the primary culprit, as to a person the skeptics expressed concerns about overly-sweet wines. Even with the near-ubiquity of dry-styled whites and roses here in the Northwest, I had to do a fair bit of convincing to get them to tackle those first sips.
If it’s a red blend, people will drink it. That catch-all term has seemingly magical powers, as virtually everyone will evince a love for red blends. Since local winemakers seem fascinated by combining varietals in nearly endless iterations, it’s a powerful dynamic to watch at work. It’s also one that I have mixed feelings about: blends can be fantastic, but too often they end up tasting like generic red wine as opposed to something unique. I guess that’s the appeal.
That said, it was an event that left me thoroughly optimistic that there’s interest in and demand for Northwest wine of almost all styles and colors. If only we had more sparkling wine…
