For some of us, it's a complete mystery

Choosing a wine: the impossible task

How do you choose a bottle of wine? That's not an abstract theoretical question. I'm serious. I have no idea. Kind of a shameful admission for someone who spends as much time reading, thinking, and writing about food as I do. I know almost nothing about wine. And what little I do know, I find utterly intimidating.

From the outside, wine knowledge is a specialty field that you basically have to devote decades of your life in order to master. The rest of us, those who just want to pick something that won't make people gag, just don't stand a chance.

I feel like this wine-related anxiety is a particularly American affliction. Like people in other countries don't treat wine as a special precious thing, they just buy whatever they think will do well for dinner and everyone enjoys it. The way that we treat soda, basically: as an everyday beverage to discuss and choose, but not something to stress over.

There are about a million different kinds of wine. And if you think it's "white wine for chicken and red wine for beef," those rules went out the window a while ago. Although I suppose no one will fault you for making the traditional choice. Although it might lead to a discussion of which specific wine is best for this specific dish, at which point I kind of want to kill myself.

Frankly, I take the direct approach. I tell people that I don't know anything about wine, and if they want to pick something, I'll pay for it. Otherwise I choose something else to bring for dinner. Dessert, say, or a nice gift for the hosts. I can't exactly afford a really stellar wine anyway. (Although the cheap stuff often wins in blind taste tests, try telling that to the hosts of a dinner party.)

Image courtesy Flickr/Georgie R