We were on a road trip that took us from New Orleans to St. Augustine, and thence up through Savannah to Charleston. It was an eye-opener to see how readily southerners pegged me for someone not like them.
It wasn’t just the Boston in my speech, apparently, but some mix of factors involving dress and mannerisms. During wine and cheese hour at the B&B where we stayed, and before any of them had spoken to me, guests told my wife they had decided I was a math professor.
Since I agreed to come to join the staff at Formaggio Kitchen only when they assured me there would be no algebra, this tickled me. Something was making me look like a math prof to these folks. It wasn’t clear what.
Can a wine make your butt look big? It’s a question we ask ourselves every day — not so much because we worry about the breadth of our posterior parts (although this is never far from our minds) — but because we’ve been around this business long enough to know that a glass of Chenin Blanc or Nero d’Avola is never just a few ounces of something cheeringly fruity and alcoholic. Not a bit.
Like all consumables, wine has semantic value — which is just another way of saying that we use it to make statements about who we think we are and how we would like to be perceived, regarded, and generally thought of by others.
Among the things that define us, drink isn’t a big player like clothing, speech or personal hygiene. It’s more like an accessory. But let’s not fool ourselves about just how powerful it can be in a minor role. Just think about how James Bond’s vodka martini shaken, not stirred became a defining feature of one of our era’s most recognizable characters (you’ll want to click on that link).
Keen to impersonate a Master of the Universe-grade fund manager ? You’ll need to suit up in Armani and Rolex, but to really nail it don’t neglect to order the resto’s last three bottles of that Napa Valley cult cabernet at dinner that night — without asking the price.
Got an itch to go all Brooklyn on us? A lumberjack shirt, Blundstones and a growth of Civil War-era facial hair will be a good start, but don’t neglect to bone up on single estate sherries and murky ribolla gialla from Slovenia, otherwise there’s a good chance you’ll give yourself away.
Wine can make your butt look big (and mathy, too), but it can also make it look arty or farmy, super cool or convincingly square.
I’m pretty sure it’s just this that’s at the heart of the anxiety one encounters in a wine shop from time to time. Clientèle want something pleasant to drink, but they’re wary of serving something that reflects a persona they aren’t comfortable inhabiting. Will this wine make me look like a newbie; a poser; a snob; a geek? Or will it project something more positive: urbanity; generosity; warmth; elegance; charm?
Wine helps us present ourselves as we wish to be seen. It helps others figure out who we are. And if we occasionally worry that there’s some distance between who we are and who we’d like to be, remember that confidence is the key to convincing people (including ourselves) that we’re the same inside as out.
And confidence, as Jack Palance was fond of saying, is very sexy.
