Forget the ghosts and apparitions, the real terrors this Halloween season are the wine industry’s bigots and sexists
Halloween may be on the way, but the scariest thing in wine is that snobbery and bigotry still exists. Recently, after a very good lunch in London Bridge, some friends and I popped into a nearby wine bar. Looking over the menu I spotted a producer I knew and pointed to a £70 bottle of their Chablis. Personally, I feel that’s a fairly high price, especially for a final bottle of the afternoon, but the waiter quickly responded saying “that’s fine if you’re on a budget, but this is better,” and suggested a wine that was double the cost.
This kind of upselling is crass at best, and little was he to know I am a qualified wine consultant and wine writer, but it is this kind of behaviour that puts people off stepping into wine bars. That fear of judgement. I feel for the people who have less knowledge. Who knows, they may be enjoying their once-a-year trip into the capital.
How was he to know what I could afford? Or if this was a special occasion his comment was dampening? Or if these were work colleagues I was aiming to impress only to be told my wine choice was “budget”? It also does the venue itself no favours at all, implying some of their wines are dull and below par – and that to get a decent bottle one must spend well over £100.
I posted this experience as a story on my Instagram and received a flood of messages asking me to name and shame the venue, but there is no reason to spoil the hard work of many because of the stupidity of one. I informed the mortified owner and was assured that shaming customers into spending more was not how the staff were trained.
One waiter’s attitude towards us ordering wine however can be indicative of the kind of assumptions others can make – and to wine’s detriment.
Even among professionals, who you might hope would foster some camaraderie, judgements can easily leak out. On a recent work trip the winemaker turned to another woman and me with a shrug and asked “so… do you girls have a blog or something?”. We waited for him to ask the men the same question, but oddly it never came. I throw no shade on blogs, but the implication was clear. I was the only person present with their own newspaper column, but he had not done his research and his prejudice was showing.
On another trip, again as the only newspaper columnist, I noticed at dinner that the men were being served wine from a decanter while mine was poured from a bottle. I flagged it immediately and asked if I were being served the same wine as my male colleagues. The host looked a little embarrassed but admitted the decanted wine was “very special” – and clearly not for women.
Safe to say, I swiftly received the “special” wine, and his winery received no word of recommendation or press from me.
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A colleague of mine told me recently how he is regularly quizzed on his credentials and experience, while standing next to his white co-workers who are asked nothing at all. If this kind of bias and foul behaviour is alive and kicking within the wine industry itself, then how can the multitude of diverse consumers feel welcome in it?
From lazy assumptions to abusive actions, those working in the wine trade must do better and be more vigilant of the behaviour of others.
Wine can be a “premium” product and there are worlds that invite and enjoy a sense of pretension. But at its core, wine is vines tended by farmers, grapes picked by harvest workers then cultivated over months and years into a drink that has spanned centuries, cultures and countries.
It was created to be enjoyed as a community, to bring people together in shared meals and celebrations. Exclusivity has no part in it.
Of all the phantoms spooking us this Halloween season, this kind of shocking behaviour is what truly deserves a steak through the heart.
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