Take the intentional nature of food, its culture, restaurants, personalities, products, growers, producers & caretakers and their intentions, mix in wry commentary on how and why we collectively participate in the sacred sharing of food.....and you have the second installment in our newest blog series, “Corkage and Commitment” by Nicholas Waerzeggers.
Nic has a unique perspective to share, as Maitre D' and resident Dionysius of L’Etoile Restaurant (a personal favorite), he intentionally presides over and participates in nightly celebrations of food and wine. We hope you find Nic's contributions lively, informative and thought provoking.
Wine and chocolate share the duty of carrying intentions attached to celebrations. Wine, the drink of Europe and Chocolate, the drink of the Americas. Both ceremonial, both stepped in thousands of years of myth and legend and both informed by their own Gods. Gods who show us that the fruit of the earth is a true transformative agent. Join IC and Nic in celebrating life intentionally!!
Corkage and Commitment:
The other day I was trying to gauge just how sorry I should feel for Paul Giamatti’s character, Miles, at the end of the film Sideways. The particular scene I’m referring to is when Miles drinks his 1961 Cheval Blanc from a Styrofoam cup alongside a flattened hamburger and a pile of onion rings at the intentionally morose burger joint. When I recalled his head rocking slowly back and his eyes rolling to a close, I decided I wasn’t feeling too sorry.
Photo of "Sideways" from EW.com
Certainly, there was a whole lot more going on emotionally and artistically in that scene than commentary about drinking expensive wine alone in a vinyl booth under florescent lighting. The movie was, after all, largely about Pinot Noir (not Bordeaux) and drinking that most seductive of grapes with friends, lovers, and even enemies.
Certainly, there was a whole lot more going on emotionally and artistically in that scene than commentary about drinking expensive wine alone in a vinyl booth under florescent lighting. The movie was, after all, largely about Pinot Noir (not Bordeaux) and drinking that most seductive of grapes with friends, lovers, and even enemies.
What I do know is that Miles, if nothing else, escaped paying a corkage fee.
It seems that nearly everyone these days is being exonerated from paying for this oft misunderstood privilege of bringing one’s own wine to a restaurant. Restaurants across the country, including those who’ve ‘won’ The Wine Spectator’s Grand Award, have either waived or drastically reduced the amount they charge clientele to bring in their own bottle of wine. This move has not been limited to the United States either. My belief is that both diner and restaurateur, provided each approach the subject tactfully and courteously, stand to benefit. It’s a fascinating topic, really. While it seems to go without saying that diners know not to bring their own food to a restaurant (although there are some egregious offenses in this regard) it appears that some diners don’t think twice about stopping off at the liquor store moments before their reservation and plopping down a brown paper bag on the host stand. Rather than assume, diners should educate themselves and always call ahead to check on a restaurant’s corkage policy. Better yet, they should take a moment to peruse the restaurant’s website to try to gain its philosophy on wine and the types of grapes or wines featured on its list. In the process, the diner should have found some material with which they can engage the server or wine steward once the wine begins to exchange hands at the restaurant. Most importantly, guests must acknowledge that bringing their own wine is an extension of courtesy on the part of the restaurant.
I suggest it’s a courtesy because the average restaurant will lose the equivalent of about 26 average-priced-bottles-of-wine-worth of breakage and chipped glasses in the course of a year, or the equivalent of about 125 glasses of wine. That’s in addition to compensating staff to wash and polish the glassware, which, not surprisingly, is the equivalent for servers of Miles being forced to drink Merlot.
I suggest it’s a courtesy because the average restaurant will lose the equivalent of about 26 average-priced-bottles-of-wine-worth of breakage and chipped glasses in the course of a year, or the equivalent of about 125 glasses of wine. That’s in addition to compensating staff to wash and polish the glassware, which, not surprisingly, is the equivalent for servers of Miles being forced to drink Merlot.
Just as the guest acknowledges the restaurant’s courtesy, so must the restaurant carry through on that hospitality. This means that a diner should expect the same attentive level of wine service that they would have received had they selected something from the restaurant’s wine list. The moment a guest’s bottle is opened then has the potential for a beauty seldom matched during traditional wine service. A couple, in for their anniversary, shares the story behind their being gifted the wine while on their honeymoon in Columbia Valley. Meanwhile, the server contemplates what the wine means to the couple. Then, the couple gestures to the server to pour themselves a taste (which every restaurant worth its vertical or horizontal collections should allow and encourage). The server must not pour a token taste either. The amount should be at least an ounce, but ideally about two, giving the server and their colleagues a chance to share the wine and talk about it with guests in the future. The courtesy is completed once the server shares their thoughts about the wine with the guests and perhaps also a story about their own trip to Columbia Valley.
Certainly not all restaurants can go through this ritual, just as every couple dining out will not be celebrating an anniversary or any special occasion. Therefore, some of my favorite places to bring wine are pizza joints, small family-owned Mexican restaurants (I like Mexican food, though I don’t necessarily know how to spell certain Mexican dishes - tostadas) and supper clubs. Here, $3 corkage fees are not unheard of and the staff often shows the greatest appreciation for a taste of wine they wouldn’t otherwise have encountered.
So, check the restaurant’s policy about corkage. If you’re still uncertain as to whether your wine is appropriate, you should feel pretty confident about bringing it in if your wine meets one of these criteria:
So, check the restaurant’s policy about corkage. If you’re still uncertain as to whether your wine is appropriate, you should feel pretty confident about bringing it in if your wine meets one of these criteria:
-Your wine and its maker are not represented on the restaurant’s wine list.
-Your wine is made from a grape that is not represented on the restaurant’s wine list.
-Your wine is older than the restaurant (provided the restaurant is at least ten years old).
-Your wine predates the person who will ultimately be serving it.
And, if you haven’t come straight from the liquor store with your wine (no brown paper bag, no price sticker), buy a bottle of wine or at least a glass of bubbly from the restaurant during your dinner, share a portion of your wine with the staff, namely the chef,and don’t break any wine glasses…well, here’s the best seat in the house.
They are drinking very peacefully.Don't disturb.
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