With my stoutly black, cheap plastic figure I’m not much to look at and, yes, I am a receptacle for rejected wine and backwash. And, consequentially, I’m also a bit of an inebriate. But I have feelings too.
I prevent car accidents and faux pas. I graciously offer up my belly as a place to dump that punch-in-the-face Chianti, that way-too-sweet Chardonnay, that cat-pee Russian champagne you did not care for before rinsing your mouth with water and desperately reaching for the cracker-plate. I allow for long lists of tasting notes sensibly written by clear-headed wine connoisseurs. Without me these would look more like this:
There are some folks who have a bit of an elitist’s attitude about tasting, especially blind tasting, wines. And to be fair, there are some serious reasons to know how to do a tasting properly and what we are generally looking for, in order to identify at least the correct varietal when we are tasting wines and pairing them with foods. That said, why on earth would we take something as wonderful and fun as enjoying wine with friends and make it as dull and dry as a tasting grid!?