When I first started drinking wine, it was not for the bouquet. Rather, it was to get into some college girl's britches.
Nothing else matched the pageantry of pulling the cork from a bottle of wine. Sophistication at its zenith.
Pay-back came when, as young marrieds, we could afford only the boxed wines. When overtime fattened the weekly paycheck (reporters got paid every Friday so they could make it through the weekend), we would splurge with a bottle of cheap wine. You knew it was cheap by the screw top.
Wine has always been a little pretentious. Wine jargon is a little too fruity. Confession: try as hard as I might, I've seldom actually detected the taste of discreet tannins, nor do I fully appreciate voluptuous and velvety tones. Peonies? That's supposed to help me understand? And what the hell is a nose?
Over the years, I've learned to fake it (like everyone else, I suspect). "The lady will have Chardonnay. Me, too."
Sadly, cork taint is prompting the return of the screw top. Expensive wines, cheap wines. If all wines have screw tops, how will you know who has money?
Revenge is on the way. Wine savants fear that some dreaded thing called "screw cap reduction" will become noticeable enough to warrant a return to corks.
Bacchus is smiling.