Vine Social: Unlike Beer and Hard Alcohol, Wine Is Designed to Be Shared

You might have seen or read about a countermovement in the alcohol industry— specifically, the wine industry—called “Come Over October.”

If you aren’t familiar with this budding platform, it was created by Karen MacNeil, the great wine writer, public speaker, wine educator and all-around-guru. She began this mission in direct response to “Sober October,” during which people abstain from alcohol for the month because … well, I guess just because. And besides, who doesn’t love a good rhyme?

The idea behind the “Come Over October” concept is to remember that wine historically has been about getting together, breaking bread and making merry—so instead of giving up all alcohol for the month, open up a bottle of wine, and invite people over!

There have been myriad pieces from my fellow wine colleagues written about the October alcohol consumption debate, and I encourage everyone to read these articles, blogs and posts, because they are largely insightful. I’m not here to regurgitate the same sentiments, but I want to take this opportunity to share with my community why this issue is so important to me.

First, the choice to abstain from alcohol is a personal one, and I don’t know a single person in this business who looks down on or condemns someone who is trying to manage and live with an addiction, or deal with a health issue. Please know that the feelings expressed by those of us in the wine business who are against “Sober October” and “Dry January” are not anti-sobriety—and this is not a response to declining alcohol sales. I can’t speak for everyone, but I think most of my industry friends would agree that if you struggle with substance and alcohol abuse, we don’t want your business. We’re not here to profit off someone’s disease.

It’s the underlying concept behind these brief acts of on-again, off-again abstinence that I take issue with—Sober October, Bender Through December, Dry January, rinse and repeat. I find this mentality dangerous, because it changes our relationship with alcohol, and more specifically, wine. If the other 10 months of the year, you’re getting black-out drunk, having suffering relationships, or self-medicating and using alcohol as a coping mechanism, sobriety in October and January isn’t going cut it.

This is where our personal relationship with alcohol comes into play.

I don’t drink hard liquor—not because I’m making some sort of stand; I just don’t like it. I don’t really drink beer, aside from the occasional Budweiser at the rodeo (go ahead, judge me), simply because if I’m going to have a drink, I want it to be something I really like. And I really like wine. No, not like; I love wine. And I drink wine every day.

Wine professionals will tell you there is a huge difference between spirits, beer and wine, and it’s that difference that is lost on these sober movements. All alcohol is not created equal. I could invite you over, and we could sip on tequila and soda, gin and tonic, or a vodka martini, and have a great time, I’m sure. But you could just as easily open that bottle of vodka, pour yourself a martini, and relax on the couch with a TV show all by yourself—and that bottle of vodka (or gin, or tequila, or whiskey) can sit on your bar for weeks or months without changing. You can keep coming back to it, over and over again, all by yourself, and that bottle of distilled spirit will be there just as it was the day you bought it.

You can go buy a six, 12 or 18 pack of beer; crack one open; and drink the whole thing. No biggie. That’s why it comes in 12-ounce cans. It’s designed for you to drink all by yourself. I’m sure it must happen occasionally, but I’ve never seen anyone split a beer.

Wine, on the other hand, was solely created to be shared. That’s why the normal bottle size is 750 milliliters. It was never intended to be a single serving or for just one person. It has a very short lifespan once it’s been opened; therefore, if you’re going to open a bottle of wine, the idea is to have someone to share it with. It doesn’t have the ability to sit on your bar for weeks or months. It won’t let you come back to it to have one glass every now and then. Wine is different.

I’m not saying that having a cocktail is bad, and I’m certainly not implying that drinking wine is somehow exempt from over-consumption. But I do think it’s important to recognize that knocking back shots of tequila, crushing Jell-O shots, or drinking Jack Daniels out of the bottle is entirely different than sharing a bottle of wine with your community of friends and family.

For most wine lovers, it’s not about the alcohol content. In fact, a lot of wine drinkers have a disdain for big, high-octane offerings and look for lower-alcohol, more-balanced wines. Instead of drinking to get “buzzed,” the joy that comes from drinking wine is less about the drink itself and more about the experience you have while drinking it—the people you choose to share it with, the meal it is served with, and your location, whether it’s a beautiful backyard, a comfortable living room, a formal dining table, or the vineyard where the wine is made. It’s about the sensory experiences that are unique to us: how you can stick your nose in the glass and smell your grandmother’s strawberry-rhubarb pie, or notes that remind you of the way your dad’s shirt would smell after he had a cigar. Wine is centered around people, and always has been: the people who grow the grapes, pick the grapes, make the wine, and share the wine.

Over the last seven years, I’ve watched this little wine shop/wine bar of mine create relationships that transcend the tastings. Every week, I see strangers meet in this little space. I watch them connect and leave as new friends. It has become a community of people who are attending each other’s weddings, throwing birthday parties for one another, supporting each other at family funerals, and getting together for monthly dinners.

Just recently, we hosted a private party for a couple who wanted to celebrate their one-year anniversary here in the shop with a group of friends, because this is where they met—two strangers brought together over a glass of wine.

Now that October is behind us, and we move into the crazy, busy, holiday season, I hope you take the opportunity to think about your relationship with wine in a positive way, and use it as a tool to get to know that neighbor you haven’t met yet, catch up with that friend you haven’t seen in a while, or open that special bottle you’ve been saving—and reconnect with your loved ones.