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AS A CHILD I used to be instructed I ought to by no means use the phrase “hate,” even to explain a factor I actually despised. In line with my mild-tempered schoolteacher mom, there merely was by no means an event the place such a harsh and horrible phrase might acceptably be invoked. To which I’d now reply: Have you ever ever tasted Pinotage?
On multiple event I’ve publicly declared my animus towards this pink grape from South Africa that tastes and smells like rubber tires. And every time I’ve been on the receiving finish of some, properly, fairly hateful responses. Apparently, many wine lovers think about it unseemly to specific hatred for a specific wine; if you happen to intensely dislike it, that simply means you haven’t had the “proper” one. But individuals be at liberty to say they hate different issues—paint colours, hair types. Why not wine?
Once I revealed my hatred of Pinotage on this column a number of years in the past after tasting many, many examples, I obtained a raft of emails from readers. In a single notably lengthy missive, grape grower Dave Jefferson of Kenwood, Calif., wrote, “A extra prejudicial assertion by a wine journalist can scarcely be imagined. A wine journalist just isn’t entitled to any such prejudices of their skilled subject.”
Different correspondents shared my anti-Pinotage stance and voiced their help. Yet one more put ahead a method to fight the wine’s malodorous nature. Reader Pierre Bedard steered decanting a Pinotage for an prolonged interval. “The foul aromas will decamp and new ones will type,” he promised. To my thoughts, the truth that “foul aromas” have to be dispersed says all the things you might want to learn about Pinotage.
I’ve found that a few of my in any other case wine-loving buddies have antipathies of their very own towards specific wines. My good friend Kathy, as an illustration, has a longstanding hatred of rosé. I’ve tried many instances to vary her thoughts about what I regard as a deeply irrational place. How might somebody hate a wine on account of its coloration? “I feel rosé is admittedly boring,” Kathy defined. “It by no means surprises me.” Over the course of a long time I’ve served Kathy many rosés I like. As soon as I even blindfolded her earlier than serving her a favourite Crémant d’Alsace rosé—hoping to attraction to her love of glowing wine—however to no avail.
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