I was polishing off a bottle of Hawke’s Bay Syrah last night with a flatmate. I thought it was elegant; he didn’t think it had enough balls. I tried to explain that just because it didn’t have balls didn’t mean it wasn’t a great wine. Big doesn’t mean better. But what if that’s what you like?
We concluded that everybody needs to find a wine critic with similar taste. It helps if they write well (that doesn’t stop a few people) but wine is a matter of taste.
It’s the same with film reviews. Any movie that gets a five star rating in the Independent newspaper, I avoid like the plague: The Aviator, The English Patient, Lord of the Rings. Spare me the three-hour epic. If it gets two stars the likelihood is, it’s for me. There’s nothing wrong with liking a trashy movie and there’s nothing wrong with drinking something uncomplicated mid-week. It can be tiring being highbrow all the time.
Having judged at a few wine tastings recently, panels should even things out. However, we’re all trying to look for elegant, restrained wines at the moment – sometimes that isn’t what people want.
