I buy a fair amount of wine on my (very) limited budget. Actually, it's pretty much the only thing I spend my disposable income on, along with shellfish, steak, and the odd night out. So basically just food and booze. Priorities right? Over the years I've been buying, I've only bought one single case of wine - this 2010 Lapierre Morgon - that I bought the day before taking my GMAT. Premature celebration, maybe, but also some extra motivation to kill the exam. Mission accomplished.
I'm slowly coming to the realization that I hoard wine. My cellar is small, about 550-600 bottles, and it's all in small orders - 2 bottles of this Bordeaux, 3 bottles of this Mosel, a single bottle of this Barolo. So with 12 bottles of one wine, I almost don't know what to do with myself. Do I just start drinking? Buying in limited numbers is encouraging this hoarding behaviour - if I only have 2 or 3 bottles of something, I can't really afford to just drink one. No, being my typically serious, humourless self, I have to let the wine mature, or at least come around a bit, before I even think of opening it. And then when is the perfect occasion to do so? Dinner with friends? Holidays? Birthdays? No, somehow no occasion ever seems appropriate enough for that bottle I've squirrelled away since 2nd year university.
They say the first step to recovery is recognizing that you have a problem. So what is it when I recognize the problem yet still choose to do nothing about it? I have every intention of drinking every single bottle in my cellar before death takes me. No guarantees that tomorrow I'll still be able to put on the pants I've taken off tonight, but for now, I'm planning on uncorking everything. Every bottle has its time and place - I just suppose the exact details are a mystery. Choosing a wine isn't supposed to be an exercise in logic or reason. No, fuck scientific food and wine pairings that rob this beautiful elixir of all romance and charm. Choosing a wine to drink is about feeling and emotion, and understanding that wine is as much about satisfying an intellectual curiosity as it is about delivering unabashed, all-encompassing pleasure.
Anyways, what was my point . . . right, so I bought a full case of this wine, and pulled a bottle out, before placing the other 11 bottles away. But it's been sitting in my closet since June, sort of waiting for its time. I opened it last night, for our Mid-Autumn Festival dinner. Wine doesn't mean much unless you uncork the bottle and share with loved ones - and besides, the longer you hold onto something, the more unreasonable your expectations become. There will always be more wine. Unless the earth comes to a fiery, cataclysmic end, there will always be another spring, another harvest, another vintage. So we need to express the finest lesson that wine teaches us: the spirit of honesty, integrity, and generosity.