'Getting good at wine, I’m learning, simply means getting better at enjoying life'
Photo-Illustration: The Cut; Videos: Getty I wanted this to be a hedonistic summer, but it’s difficult to enjoy yourself in a dystopia. So join me in dissociating into the memory of summer 2016 — that year was, uh, its own political shitshow, but the summer was a bubble of inexplicably good vibes.
But wine is pleasure — not exactly a problem unless you’re someone who grew up in a community that often prioritizes sacrifice over self-care. It’s hard for me to lean into pleasure of any kind, especially when it comes to drinking. When my father immigrated to America, he promised his mother he would never drink. In the somber children-of-immigrant literature that shaped me, drinks spelled doom for those who indulged.
The process is pretty simple: Buy five of one kind — for example, an old- and new-world Chardonnay, un-oaked and oaked; bubbly Champagnes; zesty Chablis. You can taste in a party or alone, preserving the open bottles with nitrogen. Sipping them all together, and slowly, you form opinions about what notes you do and don’t like — that’s it. From there, you “go forth and drink Chardonnay from an informed position.” Still, pure information isn’t what matters in the book.