Infuriating: the types who only drink natural wine
Amanda needs to get something off her chest, because there’s a phenomenon that really makes her want to tear her hair out: natural wine. Or, as she calls it, ‘the liquid equivalent of a macramé plant hanger.’ And it’s not even the wine itself…
‘Don’t get me wrong, I love wine. No, I live for wine. My bookshelf is packed with wine books, I can tell you flawlessly what the difference is between a Pouilly-Fumé and a Sancerre, and I have more respect for a good sommelier than for a heart surgeon as a matter of speech. But natural wine… natural wine brings out the worst in people.
Sustainable and responsible
Because natural wine isn’t just wine. It’s a statement. A way of life. It’s as if with every sip you’re trying to say: ‘Look at me being sustainable and ethically responsible.’ Meanwhile, it tastes as if your mouth is full of a wet forest. Full of moldy, musty leaves. At least, that’s what I taste in a glass like that. But don’t say that to one of those natural-wine-drinking types. They’ll start talking about ‘exciting wild yeasts.’ Yes, exciting like a roller coaster that suddenly stops in a tunnel full of mold.
The people who drink natural wine
So it’s not really about the wine itself. What could I possibly have against wine made as naturally as possible, without artificial fertilizer and pesticides? There’s nothing wrong with wanting to lead a flavorful and conscious life. I think that’s wonderful, and if the wines that apparently go along with it also happen to be delicious: fantastic! No, it’s the people who drink natural wine.
On the one hand, you have the types who genuinely have no idea what they’re drinking, but have heard that natural wine is ‘in’, so suddenly it becomes their entire personality. It’s a cultural code. Natural wine is their status symbol. They’re the kind of ‘oat-milk elite’ who turn up at a party with their manbun and beaded bracelets, carrying a bottle whose label looks as though a preschooler stuck a collage onto it. And then they say things like: ‘This wine is really very special. It comes from a micro-winery in Umbria, where they work with cosmic cycles.’ I also don’t know why someone like that is always called Djim or Thaurus, but I don’t know a single Henk who drinks natural wine either.
The wine connoisseur
The second type may be even worse: the self-proclaimed connoisseurs. The people who act as if natural wine is your ticket to the promised land of the elite. They slurp, nod seriously, and say things like: ‘This really has that raw energy of an unfiltered maceration. Very pure. Very natural.’ Nine times out of ten, it simply tastes like vinegar. But of course you don’t dare say that, because then you’re on the wrong side of history. Because that’s the real problem, right? Natural wine isn’t just a drink. It’s a moral choice. It’s a way of saying: ‘I am enlightened. I am responsible. I am better than you with your Chardonnay.’
Underdeveloped palate
And then there’s the worst part: if you dare say you don’t like it, they look at you as if you’ve just admitted that you think Pétrus with cola is a delicious combination. ‘Oh, you don’t like natural wine? Maybe your palate just isn’t… developed enough yet.’ No, my palate is perfectly developed, thank you. I simply don’t like something that tastes as if it came straight out of a muddy downspout.
Besides, I simply have no desire to use my choice of drink as a moral compass. Because ultimately, let’s be honest, the best wine is the wine that makes you happy. And for me? That isn’t natural wine. Cheers!’
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Amanda’s name has been changed for privacy reasons. Her real name is known to the editors. Would you also like to share a personal story (anonymously!)? You can email us at info@favorflav.com
