To drink or not to drink: what is the etiquette regarding that brought-along bottle of wine?
Adeline loves food, lots of it and often, both at home and out. It usually goes well, but sometimes it doesn’t. In the Sunday Roast series, she shares her curiosities. This time: the matter of the brought-along bottle of wine.
I love wine. Good wine. I’m happy to pay a somewhat heftier price for it, and I don’t suddenly serve something else when I have friends or family over. I serve good wine, you serve good wine. Although at a party I may occasionally serve a cheap plonk as the grand finale, but I’m only human with a wallet, and it’s a mortal sin to knock back an expensive Sauvignon while loudly plastered.
What’s the proper etiquette, anyway?
At the risk of being quartered, because I really have read your reactions this week under the article about annoyances at dinners with friends, I still want to talk about that brought-along bottle of wine. Because what’s the proper etiquette, anyway? Can you force someone to open your own bottle when you visit them, or may they save it for a later moment? No great question of life is beyond me, as you’ve probably gathered by now.
Phenomenal bottle
I still think back to that one time when, on a Greek island, we were allowed to join a family at their home for dinner. At a wine shop in the old city wall of Rhodes, I had picked up a phenomenal bottle. Upon arrival, I handed the bottle to Dad, who looked at the brought-along goods in a panic and suddenly started setting out wine glasses next to our beer glasses. We had brought something, so it had to be drunk right then and there. Another option was unthinkable, which meant that in thirty-degree heat we were washing down a white wine that was also thirty degrees warm.
It turned out they weren’t wine drinkers. It hurt for a moment when I saw the full-bodied wine disappear with a splash into the lemonade glass, but it was one of the nicest afternoons ever. So the wine was put to good use, if you ask me.
Opening under duress
What do the etiquette experts have to say about it? The recipient decides what we drink, and some experts even say that a gifted wine is absolutely meant to be saved. So if I buy a beautiful wine with high hopes and the person I give it to decides to store the bottle safely in the cellar, that is entirely legitimate. It works the other way around too. You can’t force me to open the bottle, but you can try to read life-size hints.
If you’re handed an ice-cold white, and I mean so cold that the label is coming loose from the dampness, you may assume they want it drunk right then and there. In the case of a red, you’re at the mercy of the gods; no idea what friends you normally know like the back of your hand want from you. It’s a kind of Russian roulette with wine. It can freeze, it can thaw. It’s always worth keeping an eye on your guests’ eyes and nostrils; if they’re trembling, pour that stuff.
What a snob I am
By the way, I do have the ultimate tip if you’re afraid of vinegar wine with dinner: wrap it in velvet. You may copy and paste the following text into WhatsApp: ‘Darling, shall I get a nice bottle of wine for dinner tomorrow? Let me know what’s on the menu. Xx’ If it still goes wrong, you’re simply lost forever. With a gifted bottle, you can also open up the conversation: Is this for dinner? Voilà, you’re done. Unless you’re sure it’s undrinkable, in which case you should simply chuck that bottle into the wine cellar without batting an eyelid. What a snob I am.
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