Introducing the first  of Harry Reginald Haddon’s weekly columns, discussing wine, and the life that flows from it. Enjoy – it is the sort of read that ages well. – As this is the first wine column I am writing here, I thought I would ask the question: why wine? Why dedicate these 600 or so words to wine? Can’t we just drink the stuff and be happy? Do we have to listen to another poncey, big nosed bastard who is going to tell us about the flutteringly fleet-footed scent of an angels fart, offset only by the delicate flavour of cigar boxed, pencil shaved bullshit? In short: Because it’s awesome, of course you can, and I damn well hope not. [Click link to read column]

Why wine? Well for the last couple 1000 years (earliest estimates see evidence for wine making at around 7000 BC) we have been drinking wine. We have drunk it to escape cruel and short lives, to grease the brain’s cogs and wheels, to liven up parties, to find inspiration, and to worship our gods. We have traded wine, made millions with wine, and lost it all with wine. We’ve made it sweet, drunk it sour, wrote books on it, and fought for it, died for it, and we have drunk wine because, goddamnit, drinking it is awesome. Wine was at the start of civilization and it will be there, in whatever form, at the end.

So whether you like wine or not, it deserves respect.

But here is the tricky bit, and one that frustrates me to no end. How did this wonderful liquid, rich in history, gain this horrible reputation among so many:  to show an interest in it shoves one towards the snobbish end of the social spectrum?

One answer is of course the price of wine. The brilliant 18th century author Goethe made the point, “The rich want good wine, the poor plenty of wine.” And of course it is over ‘good wine’ that much time is spent harping on about its character ad infinitum; a sure way to alienate those with a passing interest. Indeed one wine critic from the middle ages noted, “those who dwell, think and cogitate ceaselessly about wine, speaking, writing, following and moulding themselves to it, will suffer the consequences*.”

So OK, there are wine wankers. Those that make people uncomfortable with their supposed greater wine knowledge – it’s easy to identify them, they will turn their noses up at Chateau Libertas – to these people we need to raise our collective middle fingers, raise a glass of Tassies, and tell them to shut the fuck up. The last thing wine should be is a snooty, elitist pursuit.

The purpose of wine is to enjoy it, to quench your thirst, to inspire joie de vivre. As soon as that ceases, so should your drinking. For some this occurs at four in the morning with their heads over a porcelain bowl, for others it is when they start buying wine simply to impress.

But of course, like most things, the more you know the more enjoyable it becomes. Unless of course your sole aim is to get shit-faced; if that’s the case, then by all means carry on, you are not alone.

For me drinking wine is like reading. We can start with simple things and, dependent on our enjoyment, we progress to more and more complex books, poems, manuals, textbooks etc. Of course if you read purely for practical sakes, a novel is not likely to grace your eyeballs.

So like wine you start with simple wines and then start to explore. And this is the important bit:

It doesn’t matter what you like. But it does matter finding out why you like it.

And that’s what I hope this column will be. A mix of light hearted wine trivia, some wine suggestions, and a way for you to hopefully learn one or two things that will, the next time you open a bottle, make you go “Aha!” That’s wine for me, a series of (endless and invigorating) bottles punctuated with ‘Aha’ moments. And each one lets me enjoy the next bottle more.

However, as this is not a newspaper, you are not forced to listen to what I think will work. So I ask you to please leave a comment below describing what you would like to see in a wine column. Whether it is wine selections at various price points with tasting notes, wine history, profiles of wine-makers, whatever. If left to my own devices you’ll probably get a mix of those. So let me know and I will try and provide, but please if I ever start becoming that poncey prick we told earlier to fuck off, let me know. I’ll drink something cheap and nasty as penance, and try again.

* I didn’t look for the consequences out of a personal fear.

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