My father taught me by example that wine was a gift and it was for sharing. Len Evans, one of my several mentors, was famous for his abilities both to give and to receive wine. ‘Is that the best you’ve got?’ he would famously bark at you. Next time he would always open something better.
My earliest memories of wine involved weekends. Some Saturdays my father would pile us into the old VW and we’d head off towards Tahbilk or Osicka’s. I remember less about the taste of wine than a fascination with different wine labels – why some labels went on some bottles but not on others. Come Sundays our dining table would be extended for a large number of guests – my father was a parish priest – and wine would be a central prop to the lunch and surrounding conversation. I’d hang around just long enough to be polite before heading out for whatever sport was in season, but also for long enough to appreciate the simple, humble and spiritual role that wine could play in a family and a community.
Right now, life as we know it is under unprecedented pressure and some of us are buckling under the strain. Social distancing and related measures now prevent us from looking after each other the old-fashioned way around a table with friends and family. What can we do to show we care? Bake a cake or cook a casserole? Or give a bottle of wine. It needn’t be expensive. It’s all about the thought. It’s from the earth and it’s a gift of love.
