The People’s Sommelier
June 10th, 2020
Starring: The Sommelier
A small serving table. Three bottles of wine are placed perfectly apart on the white tablecloth. Each has a filled wine glass next to them. The Sommelier enters, elegantly dressed and pleasantly presumptuous.
THE SOMMELIER
Good evening, everyone. I am your sommelier tonight.
For many of you, this may be your first sommelier experience, perhaps by choice.
You’ve probably heard things about my profession. It’s all true.
It is unfortunate that wine must ooze pretension. My field requires an immaculate amount of knowledge and study, and yet, seems to only be required by those of a particular taste, creed, or tax bracket. That is shameful to me.
I have devoted my life to the grapevine, and in my devotion, have attempted to heed the aforementioned concerns in my approach.
So I impart you with this:
I may be a sommelier of wine, but I am truly a sommelier of the people.
With that in mind, I’ve prepared three pairings for you this evening.
My first selection is a red. A 2019 Malbec, from a promising new winery in Northern Argentina.
This wine is not for the faint of heart. On the nose, there are notes of cherry, almond, balsa wood, and cardinal sin, like whiffing the interior of a Catholic church confessional. When you sip, you’ll immediately feel a sense of overbearing, hapless weight, like a Hippo’s sleeping above you on a creaky bunk bed. And on the finish, you’ll notice a resounding sense of betrayal, as if your middle school science quiz wasn’t open-note after all.
It’s the perfect selection for tenants of studio apartments, or when you’re trying to talk sense into a senile relative.
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This next selection is a 2003 Napa Valley Chardonnay. Now, this was a wine that vasty surpassed my initial expectations. It’s a crisp, arid, frosty drinking experience. It conjures up a chilly kind of anger, like needing an electric blanket, but realizing they’re backordered on Amazon. After a glass or two, you’ll feel like you’ve been given a serious wake-up call, like an accidental “sack tap” during Thanksgiving touch football game. Gun to my head, it’s the bottle I’m reaching for if I want to have a cleansing cry in the shower, without the usual guilt.
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And finally, we come to our vintage, 1996 Basque country Rosé.
After I first tried this wine, I um…
I sh*t my pants.
In the best possible way.
So take that for what you will.
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The Sommelier takes out a leather bound wine list and puts it on the table.
Prices and other selections are listed here.
And if you have any questions, just give me a wave.
Enjoy your evening.