Respect Yourself

We Americans have an inferiority complex, especially when it comes to adopting something from an older culture. I had a classics history professor in college who, when I expressed a preference for American history, harrumphed, "America doesn't have history; America has 200 years of current events."

So, as we have taken on the Old World's preference for wine, which dates back to antiquity, we who are used to blazing our own trails, reinventing ourselves along the way, and blithely ignoring tradition, ritual, rules, and common sense, find ourselves unsure and intimidated when it comes to wine.

We crave affirmation. Ratings from wine publications, recommendations from waiters, sommeliers, and store clerks, a respected friend's latest find, and untold numbers of wine blogs (mine included), tweets, and other web-based info--all demonstrate that we are bewildered by wine. Is it just too many choices? Are we afraid to trust ourselves? Or, is it fear that we'll make a mistake?

Well, for your sake, make a mistake. Buy something you've never tried. Trust whatever you know about wine, and then buy something, try something about which you know nada, zip, zilch. What's the worst that could happen?

At best, you find a new wine style you love; at worst, you waste a few bucks. Then, write a review, if only in your head. "A plucky, little number with way too much pretension: I give it an 85." Or, "Yuck, this wine sucks." These are actual reviews from acquaintances, as legitimate as any in The Wine Spectator, as informative as I needed to try the first and avoid the second. (Well, actually, I tried the second, too, just to taste a really sucky wine.)

Respect yourself. Who listens to you better than you? Whose opinion matters more than yours? Whose pleasure is it anyway? Ratings assigned by wine critics are just random numbers. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Respect yourself, your opinion, your taste, your thoughts--the only ones that matter.