Opinion | Labour Day Special Toast to Wine and Work - Real And Pretentious

In many countries, May Day is celebrated by raising a wine glass to toast the fruit of human labour that makes the world go round. It is ironic, therefore, to learn that, globally, almost half of the wine sector is facing a labour shortage. At least the ProWein Business Report 2022 by the Geisenheim University, Germany says that.

It is not surprising, given the gruelling processes involved in the production of wine. Small wine grape farmers and hired labourers on large vineyards often deal with poor labour standards and living conditions. The global wine-drinking industry is worth more than $350 billion and wine is produced in over 50 countries across the world. In many of these countries, vineyards are now relying, increasingly so, on cheap migrant labour, often undocumented, from the global south. Last month, an Al Jazeera report revealed how undocumented workers employed at Italy's idyllic vineyards were earning barely $3 an hour, most of them working 12 hours a day, including weekends. Indians make up a sizable chunk of such illegal labour forces across countries. 

Wine And Social Signalling

India's wine market, currently pegged at $238 million, is projected to grow steadily. Basically, Indians are drinking and producing wine like never before. For some it's just another 'drink', for others it's a potent tool for social signalling. Nothing screams 'I have arrived' louder than talking about different grapes and rattling out the names of famous vineyards. And yes, that look of disdain when someone mentions an Indian wine.

Recently, at a newly opened wine bar - a challenge in New Delhi - the sommelier took me aside and we chatted for more than two hours. She had to be 'stolen' by apologising colleagues who wanted her to meet other guests. I suspect the reason for her instant shine on me was the flurry of basic questions I directed at her. "Nobody asks me these questions. Everyone wants to order the most expensive glass or bottle of wine."

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I did not grow up in a wine-drinking household. Neither my parents nor their parents know anything about wine. All my love for wine (after whiskey) is borne out of my distaste for any sweet drink. A paradox for a person who boasts of having not just a sweet tooth but a whole sweet jaw and can polish a kilo of motichoor laddoo in one sitting.

The Wine 'Experts'

When I first visited Paris, I was a fool for looking at the menu to order a glass of wine. I was later educated by my husband and his Italian friend - who is part of my dower from him - that only pretentious people do that because it's almost impossible to drink bad wine in France and Italy. You just tell your hostess the quantity: a glass, a pint, or a pitcher.

Not in India. Those who 'know' wine want to spend an entire evening scanning the menu and discussing the merits of each listed item with the hostess causing numbness in her legs. Those who don't, mercifully, order the most or least expensive wine listed on the menu and get done with it. Thanks to the explosion of social media 'influencing', certain orders are placed only for the sole purpose of taking pictures. A swirl for a reel, and there goes the wine: down the drain. The liquid is as dispensable as 'friends' once the purpose has been extracted: self-fashioning by producing flattering images on and offline.

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It has been proved time and again that most blind tastings of wine come as an embarrassment to the experts-both renowned and self-proclaimed. A friend hosts small soirees at his house beginning with a blind tasting. Mostly, it's the least expensive wine that knocks his guests out with its brilliance. Once, a tinned wine off an American supermarket shelf was the winner. This friend took the fear of swirling the glass out of me. Before he taught me the trick to avoid any spilling, I used to grip the glass in a death hold while swirling it.

Don't Go By Labels

Another friend says, very candidly, that he drinks rarely and he does it to get drunk. As long as it's not vinegar, it doesn't matter where the wine is coming from. Every once in a while I get the urge to show off my acquired knowledge of wine by explaining the label to whoever cares to humour me. And then I remember Rocky - of Rocky and Mayur fame - telling me that, unlike whiskey, good wine cannot be judged by its label. And I shut up. But someone else on the table, almost always, explains the label. Not only that, they'll also give you a timetable instructing when to drink which wine. Any deviance and you are not fashionable enough.

I stopped wasting my hard-earned money at airport duty-free shops after that Paris visit and the well-deserved chiding I received. I only drink when I travel to a different city. Most people in my tiny intimate social circle have their beverage preferences defined-they do not drink wine. I don't have a reason to buy expensive labels to appear posh.

Unlike the gentle sommelier, I have no patience to explain why sometimes an inexpensive table wine can be superior to an exorbitantly priced bottle. For me, wine is celebratory. Of love, of luscious nature, of labour.

And that's it. 

(Nishtha Gautam is a Delhi-based author and academic.)

Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author.