A Brief Taste of Luxury
Imagine asking someone if they’ve ever been to Paris and hearing them answer: “Yeah, I had a layover at the Charles de Gaulle airport once.”
Technically, they have been to Paris. But, of course, that isn’t what most people want to know. When someone asks if you’ve been to Paris, they’re generally interested in your experiences. Where did you eat? Where did you stay? What did you see? What would you recommend? Stopping by for a few hours isn’t the same thing as exploring the city over the course of a week.
There’s a phenomenon with luxury alcohol that involves a similar question of what constitutes experience and I’ve run into it quite a bit over the last few years.
Wine colleagues and professionals will recount their “experience” tasting ultra-premium wines like DRC at various industry events, which consists of 1-2 ounces in a tiny glass, most likely from a recent vintage that is nowhere near its prime, rinsed around in their mouths for a few seconds.
Is tasting a tiny sample of a young wine the same as experiencing the real deal? I wouldn’t say so.
Meanwhile, a growing number of whiskey drinkers who often can’t afford the luxury bottles they covet are communicating online to split the cost, dividing a 750ml into fifteen 50ml bottles, and using these tiny samples to write full-page reviews about their thoughts. They’ve sampled half a glass, once, and they’re ready to share their experience with the world.
But does that limited exposure offer any context into the luxury experience? It depends on who you ask.
While I completely understand the excitement that comes with trying an expensive wine or whiskey and sharing that enthusiasm with the world, there’s a big difference between tasting something once and having truly experienced it. I once changed trains in Bucharest during a trip to Eastern Europe, but personally I wouldn’t tell people I’ve been there. I also wouldn’t tell anyone that I’ve tasted Château Lafite, even though I’ve sampled the wine on numerous occasions.
To me, those experiences don’t really count.
Let me tell you the sad truth about prestige bottles in the modern era: few people will ever have the chance to truly experience them.
Sitting down to dinner with an older vintage of Romanée-Conti, decanting it, and drinking glass after glass with a fantastic meal requires a substantial wallet. As does opening a bottle of Macallan 30 year and pairing it with a fine Cuban cigar. It’s discouraging to think about, but the only people who will ever truly understand these liquids are the ones who can afford to drink them repeatedly.
Yet, as I observe the motivations that drive modern consumers, documenting even a brief encounter with luxury seems to be more important than understanding it. Like a selfie taken in front of a recognizable landmark, the photo is proof that you’ve been there. Even if you were only there for a few minutes.
But when you’re on your deathbed, making peace with your life and what you’ve been able to accomplish, are you really going to remember that time you tried a sip of Pappy Van Winkle at your local whiskey bar? I’d say the odds on that are fairly slim. You’re far more likely to reminisce about a meal with friends or family, or the time you and a loved one shared a special bottle together.
In speaking to a number of former colleagues and industry professionals this week, almost all of them were able to recount the rarest wine or whiskey they were able to taste, but not one of them remembered much about it. I can tell you with certainty that I’ve sampled 50 year old whiskies from both Macallan and Bowmore, but I don’t recall anything about those moments, or even when they happened. All I have are a few scribbles in a book.
Tasting expensive wine and whiskey for context is an important exercise for any aspiring professional, but it’s not the goal of drinking. Nor is it even the most memorable part. As compelling as tasting can be, checking a luxury alcohol experience off your bucket list isn’t something that can be done with a quick sample. Speaking with authority about the luxury experience requires continuous exposure and context, which even most professionals (including myself) will never have.
-David Driscoll