There is so much drama in the SA wine industry at the moment, what with caffeine conundrums, and now a damning (albeit one-sided) report from Human Rights Watch that Western Cape fruit farmers are treating their workers like it’s the 1860s. I thought I would steer completely clear of such depressing matters and uplift the wine drinking nation with some sound advice as to what wine to open when faced with certain situations in your life.

Wine is not only an almost spiritual beverage, one that lifts the spirits, clarifies one’s mind, oils the brain’s cogs, promotes eloquence (and in my case verbosity) whilst simultaneously engaging the intellectual faculties (excuse me while I take a sip).

And as I slurp and sniff my way through, I am finding that life, as with food, can be paired with wines. Wine either complements some aspect of the dance along our mortal coil, or improves it, or makes it more bearable. Here are some of the pairings that I have been thinking of lately.

The Argument

We have all been there: you and your significant other have fallen out. Tempers have flared, plates smashed, feet stomped and fits thrown. An apology is needed. There is no better way to do it than with a bottle of Champagne (if the argument was really trivial then you can go with a more affordable MCC). The swift pop of a cork softens hard hearts, and staying angry in the face of fizz is a difficult task, let me tell you. It also has the benefit of promoting make-up sex like no other drink.

The Early Start

The restorative powers of an off-dry, low alcohol Riesling should not be underestimated.

The Breakup

Your heart has been crushed like cigar being put out by a twisting and turning stiletto heel, The Cure has been playing on repeat for days, you are sobbing into old Polaroids and happy memories are turning against you. What you need, son, is a stiff Brandy. This drink was described by Ambrose Bierce as “One part thunder-and-lightening, one part remorse, two parts bloody murder, one part death-hell-and-the-grave and four parts clarified Satan. Dose, a heedful at a time.”

The Church

I’ve always wondered which wine would be best suited for communion wine. Growing up we only got grape juice, which I thought a bit cheap. If you are going to take on a ritual where what you are drinking represents the blood of Christ, grape juice is a rather crappy option. I tend not to drink blood so I cannot offer a wine with similar attributes. I reckon Burgundy would be the best fit. The whole ‘iron fist in a velvet glove’ thing has always seemed quite god-like. It would also bolster the church’s numbers –  I know a number of poor winos that would be happy to sit through a sermon for a mouthful of Burgundy. The more desperate would happily hand over their souls.

The Decision

When life offers you two paths, conventional wisdom tells you to take the one less traveled. What it neglects to mention is how conventional wisdom arrived at that answer. It was, of course, over a bottle of Port. Of all the wines Port must be the most meditative. From the profound to the banal, from hat choices to deciding whether you want to believe in an imaginary man in the clouds, Port is the drink to sip on as you decide. Its very nature is ponderous, it demands sips, and requires time. It is the magic elixir for the indecisive and the The Decider’s very own gummyberry juice.

The Proposal

Whether you are proposing marriage, a one night stand, a trip up Table Mountain, or a particularly specious argument; bubbly, again, is the best way to swing the decision your way. Of course, any wine that the person you are proposing to loves will help your cause, but it is bubbly – with its aura of celebration, its inherent Joie de Vivre – that will convince your partner to spend the rest of their life with you, get you that night of passion, send you up the mountain and help everyone to forget your silliest argument.

The Dinner Party

Some foodies (the annoying  annoying people who can go on for hours about an organic turnip, for them you need something strong, like a crossbow) will say a dinner party is all about food and wine pairing. This is without question, codswallop. A dinner party is about good conversation, good food, good wine, cigarettes, more wine, better food, less intelligible but undoubtedly better conversation, more wine, more cigarettes, shouting about existential angst in Winnie the Pooh, more wine, someone is insulted and leaves, more wine, dessert, cigarettes, port, a suggestion of spin the bottle which is poo-pooed by everyone much to everyone’s disappointment, brandy, cigarettes, more wine, wondering where your childhood went, rage because there is no more wine, joy because you find some, an aborted attempt at pictionary (someone is racist, and there is a fight), more wine, people sleep, some confess secrets, the hangers on share a bottle of Riesling as the sun rises.

The Catch-up

When you haven’t seen your best mate (or, if you prefer, BFF) for months, maybe years you need something to glug on while the adventures, misdeeds, mistakes and love trysts are told. Something like a Pinot Grigio, easy Chenin, or unwooded red. If you can’t finish three bottles while catching up you have chosen the wrong wine, or you two are not real friends.

The Late Finish

The restorative powers of an off-dry, low alcohol Riesling should not be underestimated.

The Bar Room Brawl

Anything in magnum or bigger.

Death

Ok, that was more for effect; I guess I meant funerals. Bright zingy Sauvignon Blanc would obviously be inappropriate – Chardonnay, out of the question. Sherry seems to be the choice for me. A dry one. Savoury and nutty. Which, if I had to give death a flavour, that seems as good as any. The savoury, nuttiness of death.