Someone always says the same thing about non-alcoholic wine. You honestly can’t tell the difference. I want to tell the difference immediately whenever I hear that. You took a finished wine. You pulled out one of the compounds responsible for its body, its aroma, its whole weight in the mouth….
On July 30th, in the villages of Gussago and Montorfano, pickers walked into the vineyards of Franciacorta and started the earliest harvest this region has ever recorded. Not earliest in a decade. Earliest, full stop, since anyone started keeping track. Weeks of temperatures sitting around 37 to 38 degrees Celsius…
There’s a specific kind of wine disappointment that goes like this: you open a bottle, take a sip, and land somewhere in the middle: not bad, not memorable, just wine. So you cork it, forget about it, and the next evening you pour what’s left almost as an afterthought. And…
You’ve done this. Stood in front of two nearly identical bottles — same region, same grape, same price — except one says Riserva. And you picked the Riserva, because obviously that’s the upgrade. Wine’s version of paying extra for legroom. I did this for years before I actually looked into…
A sweet red from Emilia-Romagna nobody takes seriously. A crisp white with a reputation it can’t shake. A pale, pretty red from a lake, dismissed by critics who like their wine louder. A sparkling wine so light it once didn’t legally qualify as wine in America. A Sicilian red bulk-shipped…
Every write-up of Aglianico eventually says the same thing: it’s the Barolo of the South. I read close to fifteen wine guides while researching this piece, and every single one reached for that exact phrase within the first paragraph. At some point that stops being a description and starts being…
I’ll admit something. For years I thought the stem was there to make the whole thing look fancy. Hold it delicately, take a small sip, nod like you know something. Meanwhile the person next to you is drinking wine out of a coffee mug and having, objectively, a better time….
Standing in front of a supermarket wine aisle can feel like a quiz you didn’t study for. Hundreds of bottles, nobody to ask, so we all grab the one with the nicest label. Good news: you don’t need to pass the quiz. Bottles you can’t pronounce. DOC, DOCG, and IGT…
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