Great wine is like mindblowing sex:

Comparing wine experiences to sexual encounters

Picture this, you are travelling alone and find a nice little wine shop that has a beautiful Tempranillo, you’ve had Tempranillo before and liked it and the price is right at $9 for the bottle, so you grab it. You gladly slog it down with a burger that you bought at the little diner next door to the wine shop, and find a park bench overlooking the ships coming into port. You notice this wine isn’t just good, but it is exceptional, especially with that burger. Characters like dark cherries and smokiness complement the grilled character of the meat. You save the rest of the wine, and discover that alone, this inexpensive, yet delicious wine is quite memorable evoking an image of sitting in a big leather chair in a dusty library. You try to find it again upon your return home, and find that it isn’t sold in your country. You are constantly searching for a similar experience in wine, buying other Tempranillos, but unable to match the quality and flavour components that you found on your holiday.

Now, you’ve just returned from that holiday to be invited to a mate’s dinner party, celebrating a new app he released, at a fancy schmancy French restaurant. He orders a bottle of 1983 La Tache, noticing it on the list and coincidentally wanting to celebrate his birth year. You are excited (you, my friend, will be enjoying a wine that is valued around $2,000 this evening), you know it will be good. The somm excitedly pours some of the dreamy red liquid into your glass a là The Drops of God, and you and your host both sip and are stunned.

Which of these two experiences is better? I’m torn, because for two very different reasons, these experiences were equally as good. Admittedly, the joy of finding the wine on the seaside coastal village could be more enjoyable due to the discovery factor, I’ve found in situations like these when I happen upon the same wine again, the experience isn’t always as good as I’d rememberd. But you want to like the experience with the Burgundy more, firstly because we already have an expectation because of the prestige associated with the price. The wine was entirely delightful because of the overall experience (nice restaurant, a celebratory occasion). Of course, the quality was also there, which doesn’t mean the Tempranillo was of poor quality, but, in general the yields at La Tache are kept low to keep demand high, ensuring a premium price.

Now, let’s put that into terms that we may better understand… You were travelling in that seaside town alone… and after a day or two you are a little bored after a long hike. You decide to seek respite from your day in a café and flick on that dating app. There, you find someone who wouldn’t normally be your type, but is still rather good looking (and not a dumbass who can’t even manage a simple conversation) and you agree to meet. You end up in his bed after just simply knocking on this door. Voracious for a carnal encounter, you have some awesome sex; likely to be one of the best orgasms you’ve had in years. You sit there and chat for a bit about mundane things before you get dressed and head out the door. You’ll never be in contact with him again, you don’t even know his name. He is your Tempranillo.

Two weeks pass, and you are back at home catching the train upstate to your parents’ home after a long week of work in the city. You happen to sit next to a very nice young French gentleman who is also heading to the same destination, you get to talking and find some common interests, which naturally include wine as you end up sharing the bottle of Côtes du Rhône you planned on drinking solo on the three hour journey. You set up a date to meet for dinner Saturday, excited that you are doing something a little fun with your weekend. Big score for you! At dinner, you find out he is a resident radiologist at the local hospital; after having lived in New York with his ex through university, he is thinking of returning to France. You have a long, beautiful meal in a neighbourhood that you’d discounted for being fake Brooklyn. Instead you realise the place, run by a lovely Turkish woman and her husband who cooks, was a delightful place for a delicious summer meal al fresco… with wonderful wine (BYO — we both brought our own bottle). Afterwards, you slip away to apartment, and sip Armagnac while you gently kiss… and the night slips away into the most passionate evening you’ve had (oh yeah, the sex was great, but the whole package made it all the much more enjoyable, that’s when it is actually a good night). Morning comes, and you are still in each other’s arms, still high on endorphins that create that special fuzzy feeling. Now, you must be on your way… knowing that you also may not see this guy again, as sad it that might be. Ah, my La Tache!

You see, I could write for pages about the experience of the La Tache, the complexity and flavour, EVEN detected faults from age, just as I could about that memorable evening with the French Radiologist. Why? Because there was substance and context, there was the “long lasting flavour” that lingers on at the tip of your tongue to help you recall. However, I will never forget that Tempranillo for the rustic smoky delicious bargain it was.

Truth be told, I would drink either of those wines more than happily again. It is not a matter of preference; rather, it is a matter of context. There is a time and place for every bottle of wine, similar to situations with getting it on. (I did have a long relationship with Teroldego, but that is another story).