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Is the rise of connoisseurship a mass attempt to penetrate the purely symbolic experience of something like a bottle of nice wine? To begin, by careful training, to respond viscerally to our food instead of accounting abstract gratification from the knowledge of having consumed it? Like a character in Anna Karenina says, a cigar... there is pleasure... no, not pleasure, but the mark of pleasure. Writings such as the wine review above suggest that we are unfeeling towards good wine et cetera not because we have yet to cultivate our tastes (we would have too far to go, unless they're faking it), but because there is something wrong with us. We are simply not of the species who live with such intensity. Though I have never read a wine review with this sort of frantic zeal, in a way they all sound like this to me.
Posted in the Whole Foods wine section, above the Prima Toro. Tex submitted to various wine review publications.
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