Every once in a while, I get the urge to try something new, especially in regard to wine. It’s not that I get tired of my usual wines from France, Italy, Spain, and other popular wine producing countries, but I know that routine often trumps exploration. Most of us will go to the tried rather than the untried. Think about food: when you are in a restaurant, it is likely that you would pick something off the menu that you know and trust, like steak or chicken. You will probably choose the restaurant because you know more or less what will be served. How many of us will look at a menu and see something we have never heard of and then sample it for the experience of having tasted it? It came to me once in an Australian restaurant in Copenhagen (!!!) when I saw crocodile soup on the menu. Intrigued, I asked the waitress about it and she convinced me to try it, which I did, and found it rather good.
So it was in the wine store the other day when I spotted a sparkling wine that I had never seen before at a price that was attractive, less than half the price of a decent champagne. The wine was a Miolo Brut, Cuvée Tradition, and I naturally thought it was an Italian fizzy. To my surprise, I found it to be a Brazilian wine. I had never had any wine from Brazil—indeed, I was hardly sure any wines made there were worth exporting and drinking. But my curiosity got the better of me and I took a bottle home. Chilled nicely, I found it to be very appealing, the bubbles small and refreshing, the Pinot and Chardonnay mix delightful, and the lemony flavors much to my liking. I looked it up to get more information: Giuseppe Miolo was an Italian immigrant who bought land in Brazil and planted vines in 1897. For decades the grapes were sold to other companies and then in 1998 the wine was bottled under the Miolo label. I was also a bit stunned to find that the consultant for the wines was no other than the ubiquitous Michel Rolland, whose expertise ranged all over the world, including some of the top wines on the market.
Having finished off the bottle, I wondered how many other uncommon wines I have never tried that could provide the pleasure I sought in my viniphobia. Had I ever tried a really good Greek wine? No, although I know some very good ones are produced. A Tasmanian Pinot Noir? No, even though these have been getting good reviews in wine journals. How about hearty Croatian red? No, despite a huge production of varirtals in both white and red. An English sparkling wine? No, although there are about 400 vineyards in England, the largest but 20 miles from London. When was the last time I enjoyed a Hungarian sweet wine? A very long time. How about a Sylvaner from Alsace? Even longer. Of course, in some areas of the world these wines are hard to come by; merchants often will not take the chance of stocking them. But I’ve learned my lesson: don’t only stick with the known. Go for a wider perspective. The world of wine is immense. Explore.
