{Dinner's Partner in Dine}

A few years ago, Chanson attended a food-and-wine pairing event put on by Boston University's gastronomy department and officiated by Sandy Block, Master of Wine.

The group of about 20 tasted three reds with three different meat dishes. Three whites with fish and chicken. But before any food was brought to the table we tasted all the wines on their own. What was surprising to everyone, including the Master himself, was how the wines people thought tasted best on their own often faded away once the food pairing began.

Those that overcame their shyness and rose to the top of the heap to best compliment one or two or all of the dishes were the wines that on their own were less powerful, perhaps more floral, and with a dose of acidity. By most American tasting standards, they might have seemed somehow thin or weak or less interesting without the food, when really they were just being subtle and coy. The crazy romantics, these wines were made better by their partners.

The truth is, a bottle of wine has more than one personality. It flatters one night, offends the next. Certainly we’ve all noticed how a wine can taste dramatically different depending on what’s on our plates (and palates). How then do we reconcile what we know from personal experience with the fact that big fat professional wine tastings are routinely performed (and it does seem like a performance) without food? This is why the big, fruit-forward wines that taste great in solitary confinement, far removed from their savory companions, are always bringing down such dazzling numbers.

Of course, beyond the tasting room, wine doesn’t stand alone; it stands alongside food, its partner in dine. And if a bottle of wine shows itself differently when paired up with diverse dishes, shouldn’t we be evaluating a wine’s virtue in relationship to foods and flavors rather than judging it all by its lonesome? Chanson thinks so. And that’s what we’ll be doing with this blog.