Educating Wendy

Nearly 34, and I know next to nothing about wine: except what I like (as in the taste) and what I don't like. It usually takes me just a moment to gage my interest, but I've never swirled, spat, or put too much effort into nosing. Somewhere in my 20s I remember picking up a book that was purely educational, and could fit into my pocket should I remember to take it anywhere I might pick up a bottle or stick around for a glass. The book is long gone, and I still know...next to nothing.

So a book like Educating Peter: How I Taught a Famous Movie Critic the Difference Between Cabernet and Merlot or How Anybody Can Become an (Almost) Instant Wine Expert (Scribner) should be an accessible, interesting book I might pick up and learn from, yes? Almost. Probably. I began reading the book in earnest, interested in how the narrative (the writer in me lurking here, apologies) was going to shape up. The premise is that an esteemed wine editor of Food & Wine magazine, Lettie Teague, will attempt something that the book keeps hammering at me is difficult, very difficult, but not impossible: teaching an "idiot" (yes, this word is used in the reviews and bookflap) some rudimentary fundamentals about wine.

If you're familiar with Peter Travers, the famous film critic of Rolling Stone, of which I am not, unless you count all the times I might have seen his name next to what he proclaimed about a film in movie ads in the LA Weekly, then perhaps this will be ever more interesting. I totally get that Peter is clueless about wine. I might even know a little bit more than he does before he begins his education. Still, the dialogue between the expert and the novice (I'm really trying to not use the word idiot again) struck me as a little stiff and inconsequential to what I was supposed to be absorbing from the book. There're plenty of mentions of films and directors and dinners with famous people and the like, and this will thrill film fans, I imagine. For me personally, I wanted to get to the meat, if I may. Enough with the banter, the talk of irrational love of Chardonnay, etc.: I just want the information, please. I'm still reading the book (slow learner?) but already find that the book is at its best with the careful attention to lessons in the form of chapter headings (so I can use it as a reference book later) and the instruction (written in a very lean, straighforward, easy to understand manner) that the author provides. This could probably work very well for someone who wants to take in information this way, or prefers, or even excels at taking in information via this narrative format. If the narrative tone was more unusual, or the novice was someone else, I might feel differently about the book. Instead, I'll just refer to the book from time to time, to get my grapes straight, my countries of origin correct, and my wine vocabulary down pat. And maybe I'll restart my years AWOL subscription to Food & Wine once more.