Nelly
As much as I would like to think otherwise, I have gradually come to accept that my own sense of taste is very subjective and is greatly influenced by the location, the occasion or the company I'm in.
Any doubt about this was finally eradicated on a recent holiday to France. Mrs Nelly and I had been up since the crack of dawn and had spent the entire day dragging kids and luggage through airports and hire car terminals. I'm not completely ashamed to admit that that first glass of red wine had been on my mind since about 9am.
Eventually, after a long day we found ourselves sat at a little table outside a restaurant in a charming village in the French Riviera. It was everything I had hoped for. The sun had set but it was balmy and the air was still. I was almost trembling as the waitress poured me a glass of house red. I took my first sip and it was amazing. Unfortunately, I did what I always do and made a great fuss of declaring this to be the nicest wine I had ever tasted. "Why can't we get wine like this back home?" I demanded to know. Later in the evening, we bought a bottle and looked at the label. “Hmm, Vin de Zinc et Sulphides. I don’t know that one.”
A couple of days later, we found the same bottle for sale in the supermarket. EUR 2.50. We got a bottle and took it home, just to see. It was the worst wine I’d ever tasted. As well as being a little angry that the restaurant had served us this cack, I was also pleased to have learnt such a valuable lesson about the fallibility of my own tastebuds.
I realise I have just started a beer blog with a post about wine, but I feel this little story illustrates an important point. I love beer and I can easily get carried away gushing about the latest hoppy number I've "discovered" but it's important not to get too snobby about it. Taste is incredibly subjective and anyway, if you've had a hard day and you've earned that drink, then the nicest beer in the world is invariably the one in your hand.
As much as I would like to think otherwise, I have gradually come to accept that my own sense of taste is very subjective and is greatly influenced by the location, the occasion or the company I'm in.
Any doubt about this was finally eradicated on a recent holiday to France. Mrs Nelly and I had been up since the crack of dawn and had spent the entire day dragging kids and luggage through airports and hire car terminals. I'm not completely ashamed to admit that that first glass of red wine had been on my mind since about 9am.
Eventually, after a long day we found ourselves sat at a little table outside a restaurant in a charming village in the French Riviera. It was everything I had hoped for. The sun had set but it was balmy and the air was still. I was almost trembling as the waitress poured me a glass of house red. I took my first sip and it was amazing. Unfortunately, I did what I always do and made a great fuss of declaring this to be the nicest wine I had ever tasted. "Why can't we get wine like this back home?" I demanded to know. Later in the evening, we bought a bottle and looked at the label. “Hmm, Vin de Zinc et Sulphides. I don’t know that one.”
A couple of days later, we found the same bottle for sale in the supermarket. EUR 2.50. We got a bottle and took it home, just to see. It was the worst wine I’d ever tasted. As well as being a little angry that the restaurant had served us this cack, I was also pleased to have learnt such a valuable lesson about the fallibility of my own tastebuds.
I realise I have just started a beer blog with a post about wine, but I feel this little story illustrates an important point. I love beer and I can easily get carried away gushing about the latest hoppy number I've "discovered" but it's important not to get too snobby about it. Taste is incredibly subjective and anyway, if you've had a hard day and you've earned that drink, then the nicest beer in the world is invariably the one in your hand.
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