For some time now, I have had a fixation, that of finding the words to describe an attitude that I increasingly find myself displaying in my ongoing journey of evolution in the elusive theme of food-wine pairing. Perhaps someone might argue that it is a regression. But after all, as long as one does not remain stagnant, right? Whoever stops is lost.
All of us wine lovers, from the very first approaches to study, are enchanted by the charm of the most suitable food and wine pairing, what is taught as “the pairing that simultaneously enhances the characteristics of the food and the wine on the table,” the famous 2+2 that makes 5.
We fumble, we experiment, with our nose in the glass or food in our mouth when not the other way around, we are serious or we are playful (much more often, too often, serious), among sensations, scents, aromas. And we find ourselves there analyzing “strange” things: greasiness, sweetness tendency, oiliness, succulence, saltiness… oh, there are even those who have managed to figure out what “umami” is. They tell you, smiling, with that satisfied air. But I don’t quite believe it, after all.
We focus, we try to understand, we try to enjoy. And often, even sometimes unexpectedly, we succeed in doing so. Between harmonies and contrasts of flavors, seasonality, regional pairings, and even colors. This is our world. And yes, deep down we love it very much. A bit of snobbery, combined with culture, passion, and sometimes (forgive me!) a never truly dormant alcoholism. We almost feel like superheroes. There are even those who go a little further: they are the ones who even rate wines! On a hundred-point scale. But that’s another story.
But sometimes something happens. It occurs like when you shuffle all the cards in a deck, starting over from scratch, without any guides. It just happens, because our brain is strange and that's a good thing.
There are moments in life when you question everything, feeling the need to find a different sense of fulfillment.
And so here it is, your perfect match that no longer seems so perfect, your brain reworking and you don’t know why, you don’t know what. You try to understand what this strange feeling is of something missing to make your circle complete.
Reconnect the threads, reason, use the tools that have been taught to you, that you have learned and believe in, but not out of mere faith; you believe because they are right, because they are absolutely shareable. But stay true to yourself, a bit perplexed, you need something more. And then what Herman Hesse explains so magnificently in his 'Siddhartha' happens: 'When someone seeks, it easily happens that their eye loses the ability to see anything else, except what they are looking for, and that they cannot find anything, cannot absorb anything within themselves, because they always think solely of what they are searching for, because they have a purpose, because they are possessed by their purpose. To seek means: to have a purpose. But to find means: to be free, to remain open, to have no purpose.'
What happens at a certain point is: you stop searching and let yourself be carried away.
Stop having preconceptions and the arrogance of knowing things; return a bit to being a child, curious, with the ability to be amazed. It is in this context that the desire to explore new sensations, new combinations, new emotions arises. Some call it, indeed, "emotional pairing": that pairing of food and wine that does not arise from technique, nor from the experience of our ancestors, the territory, or who knows what else. It is that feeling of childlike happiness that engulfs you when you find yourself faced with, perhaps, a wine that is conceptually paired terribly, even a wine that is undrinkable in itself, but for some reason, in that context, at that moment, is absolutely perfect. It makes you enjoy, it makes you stay a little surprised.
Some personal experiences come to mind, like when at a typical American diner, frequented only by locals, they offer you meatball spaghetti, with that sauce heavy on garlic and that overcooked pasta, those huge spicy meatballs… and they serve you a terrible glass of the worst red wine of questionable origin, undrinkable, of which you can't even say it had aged in oak. No, rather you could say that the oak made wine! And it’s incredible how happy this makes you, because you are there, in that moment, absolutely comfortable in a reality that is not yours, and you empathize and feel like the king of that distant diner (physically and culturally) light years away from your home. But you feel in the right place and at the right time.
Or when you are in Ariccia, in a typical fraschetteria, along with the fantastic cold cuts and their porchetta, while improvised strummers play and sing local songs at the top of their lungs, they offer you the infamous romanella. And I swear, you wouldn't drink just one bucket, but two!
Emotional pairing: to live in an absolutely pure and happy way a unique, unrepeatable experience that gives you enjoyment only in the here-and-now or never again.
But it can also be an obsession that takes hold of you, the crazy desire to match bubbles with anything that happens to be on your plate, without rhyme or reason, simply because you absolutely want it at that moment.
Here: years ago, I was offered champagne and steak. I was skeptical, I was educational, I was rational, I was an adult. I refused and I regretted it. Because my child's heart suggested it to me, it was already telling me then: “Try.” Years later, I tried it and I would do it again, many, many times. Of course, with the right sparkling wine, the right moment, the right atmosphere, the right colors.
Sure, because colors, the season, the climate, not only influence what your body simply and metabolically desires. They also influence your moods, your harmony. Try drinking a nice bubbly when everything around you is gray and raining. And try drinking the same bubbly on a beautiful spring day. It changes the world because it changes your heart's disposition towards the world.
Let yourself be carried away; that's its beauty. And you find yourself in a certain place, memories awaken, perhaps of happy times, and what you do, you do only because you are driven by a higher force. You know you're making a mistake, you know you shouldn't, you know that with a fried fish dish, your Chianti Classico shouldn't go. And yet, for some reason, for some strange emotional push, you uncork that wine. Maybe alone, on the terrace, facing a sunset. In front of your fried fish. And you are happy. Here and now.
