Nurse the Hate: Hate German Wines
I spent much of yesterday attempting to memorize German Wine
Label terminology. I don’t know when the
last time you attempted to work the word “gutsabfullung” into a conversation,
but let me assure you it was my first.
The problem with this WSET wine certification is that I am completely
out on an island. It is like memorizing
Greek without knowing anyone that speaks Greek or ever having the chance of going
Greece itself. I have put myself in a
situation where I don’t have any peers.
Any human being that I come in contact with in Ohio immediately glazes
over if I get into any detail on any of this shit. The only one that will ever know that I can
name the 13 Anbougebiete is myself and whatever poor sap the WSET has enslaved
into grading a mountain of poorly written student exams. I am becoming an expert in ice climbing but
live in the desert. I am trying to shove
10 pounds of almost totally useless shit into the two pound bag that is my
mind.
Here’s a quick tip.
If you ever want to make someone in a beverage store roll over like a
submissive puppy as they wet themselves in fear, say the following: “I am really disappointed that you don’t
carry any of the wines from the Hessische Bergstrasse. I find that to be the most underrated
Angougebiete, don’t you?”. Although what
you have really said is “I’m sad you don’t have any obscure German wine from a
place no one outside Germany has ever heard of.
It is an underrated region.” It
comes off as “I know more than you could ever dream of knowing about a subject
no one really cares about, German Riesling.
Can you even imagine how much more I know about everything than you do? Can
you? Now, out of my way you fool! You are blocking the cooler! I am buying some light beer and cannot afford
any delays!”
I was urged to download something called “The Examiners
Report” by my instructor in San Francisco.
Its purpose appears to be to crush the spirits and will of prospective
students seeking to pass these exams. It’s
a basic rundown on why almost everyone that tries to take this test fails. Some of it is written in a wonderfully British
tone of condemnation and humorless superiority which I have somehow grown to
really love. “Many answers were
superficial, unimaginative and unrealistic showing limited original
thought…” That sounds like something you
would get in response to a bad test paper as a 14 year old. I would like to hear that in a crisp English
accent and then ask that person “Oh yeah?
You want to wrestle?” while in my lucha libre mask. That would probably soften up the
rhetoric. This comment was actually made
in regards to a question of diversity and challenges of selling the wines of
the Loire outside France. Don’t feel bad
if you don’t know what that means. It’s
a hard topic to get that worked up about as almost no one in America even knows
what “The Loire” is much less that wine is made there. I think I could have provided a very
realistic answer. “No one knows what the
fuck those wines are and would rather buy a chardonnay or cabernet with a name
they can pronounce. They want a bottle
that looks cool, not with a bunch of French words they don’t know how to
say. You know when the last time someone
in Ohio said, “Man I hope someone brings some sweet ass chenin blanc to the
party because I’m really fucking thirsty.”?
Never, that’s when. You think
someone that eats at Burger King is going to take a chance and buy some tootsie
fruitsy French wine at the bottom of a store shelf? No fucking way. They’d rather buy a 12 pack of Corona because
they know what that is and they aren’t going to show up at a party with
something called a “Vouvray” and risk looking like an asshole.” (I’m thinking I would lose “marks” on this
answer despite it being 100% true.)
In the back of this report are tables showing the pass/fail
percentages of persons taking the various exams. The particular unit I am doing now, of which
there are six I must pass to earn my Golden Wine Scepter, had a pass rate of
35%. This sort of gets my attention as I
scan around the room when I am in San Francisco in the classroom setting. I am the only person in that room not
involved in the wine business. While
these people spend their days involved in wine while trying to prepare to pass
this test, I am singing “Mojo Twist” and selling TV commercials. This is probably a disadvantage. A woman I met last week in a restaurant that
works for a wine importer was completely flabbergasted that I was even
attempting to pass this set of exams, much less for no apparent purpose. It’s like I’m trying to learn to be an anesthesiologist
just to see if I can while everyone else is white knuckling it to get a good
job at a hospital. I’m putting myself
through the ringer for pleasure. It’s
looking bleak. According to the data in
the back of those tables, a random student has a 5% chance of passing all the
exams on their first attempt. Somehow I
have passed four of six. Please note on
that 5%, it is under the assumption that each student in the data set is
equal. They aren’t. Right now some Japanese guy that was sitting
next to me is completely memorizing the 878 pages of “The Wines of Burgundy” by
Clive Coates, MW. He will be able to
recite it when I see him next. Meanwhile
the guy that was sitting by the opposite corner that kept making really gross
noises is probably waiting for his edibles to kick in and playing video
games. I fall somewhere in the middle I
suppose.
I am deep in this thing now.
The next time you see me I might well be reading “Rheingold: The German Wine Renaissance”. I might even be enjoying it. Don’t make fun of me. I need to remember what the hell the difference
is between a Qualitatswein bestimmer Anbaugebiete auslese and a Qualitatswein
mit Pradikat trockenbeerenauslese. For
no real reason. Or some English guy probably named Roger is
going to write terrible things about me.
And I will never be able to confront him in my wrestling mask. Well… I could I suppose… Pretty easily in
fact… If this exam goes south and someone gets snarky, why blame myself? It would be much more satisfying to leap
naked in a wrestling mask out of a London alleyway to settle differences in
opinion on The Loire.
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