When my editor told me that I could write about anything I wanted in my first column so long as it was Chardonnay, I thought briefly about killing her. In the years since Chardonnay has become a virtual brand name I’ve grown sick to death of hearing my waiter say, “We have a nice Chardonnay”. The “house” chard in most restaurants usually tastes like some laboratory synthesis of lemon and sugar. If on the other hand, you order off the top of the list, you may get something that tastes like five pounds of melted butter churned in fresh-cut oak.
Jay McInerney, Bacchus & Me: Adventures in the Wine Cellar, 2002.
