Does it have to be a special occasion to drink fine wine?

By Mary Margaret McCamic MW | General Manager, Karolus Wine Imports

“We’re saving that bottle for a special occasion.”

This is a comment I hear routinely from collectors and wine lovers. It’s one I understand, of course. Fine wine is special, and it should be celebrated. At the same time, it’s a concept I think we should contradict more regularly.

Why?

It’s simple. Wine is made to be enjoyed. Whether a bottle costs $15, $150, or $1500, its purpose is to bring us pleasure. The moments to enjoy great wine come and go, are often not planned, and should be embraced because truly fine wine has the ability to bring immense joy into even the most generic of circumstances. Sure, the bottle of “everyday” wine that you purchase weekly by the case may be easier to part with on a regular basis, but rarity does not make your bottle of 2008 Bonneau du Martray Corton-Charlemagne any less worthy of a Tuesday night at home, eating – gasp – a simple roasted chicken. In fact, the latter sounds lovely, and in many cases, fine wines make occasions, rather than finding them.

Take last Thursday, for example, and a casual dinner with two good friends. We cooked a nice dinner of grilled swordfish, a fresh summer salad, and gulped a few delicious bottles of Sancerre and Hunter Valley Semillon. Nothing fancy, but absolutely perfect for the company and the meal.

As things go with dinner and old friends, one drink led to another far too quickly, and we needed something else to open and properly carry us into the evening. I left to select something from our wine cellar, fully intending to grab something casual and easy-drinking to match the night. A bottle of 2006 Paul Jaboulet Aîné Hermitage ‘La Chapelle’ was the first bottle I found, an acquisition from a recent trip to Hermitage where I visited the site, thought about my late father (I visited the famed vineyard and chapel on what would have been my father’s 68th birthday), and relished in what may be one of France’s most beautiful views. Something about the moment felt right; I knew my friend loved Northern Rhone, we were having a lovely evening, and the bottle suddenly felt like the most practical, pleasurable choice.

Turns out 2006 was the year they got married, a fact I’d forgotten until they reminded me as I popped the cork. Our dinner was finished by the time we drank the bottle, so it was accompanied only by good conversation. We talked about my dad, how much he loved history, and how he would have so enjoyed the story behind this particular bottle of Hermitage. Our friends reminisced about their marriage, their lives in New York before shifting to the wine industry, and ultimately, Napa. What would have been a beautiful evening turned into one so memorable, that, well, I am writing about it now. Did I mention that the bottle was gorgeous? It came direct from the estate, so provenance was perfect – something I always consider when I buy wine for myself, or when I sell it.

I have countless stories like this, with fine wines from all over the world. Many involve Bonneau du Martray, because, let’s be honest – there is never a time when Grand Cru Corton-Charlemagne isn’t a welcome pleasure. I have many bottles of great wine stowed away for special occasions, and it is likely that many of them will be popped at weddings, anniversaries, birthdays, or to quench the thirst of some of my most sophisticated wine friends. But a good number of those bottles will find their way into my glass under far less formal circumstances, when I am arguably most in need of inspiration.

With that, I make this suggestion: Don’t always wait for special occasions to find you. Create your own moments. The next time you find yourself starved for a feeling of awe and wonder, home on a weeknight cooking an ordinary dinner, maybe that’s the perfect time to reach for that special bottle. Maybe then it will mean more to you than any other moment because it sparks a memory, reminds you of a friend, or let’s be honest, because it just tastes so darn good.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to pop a bottle of Bonneau du Martray and check on the chicken we’re roasting in the oven. It’s just an average Tuesday, but somehow, this Tuesday doesn’t feel so average.