Where will wine go now?

It was one of those evenings when the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a dusty and humid curtain that meant hard work for the AC.

I was in the mood for something light, chilled, and raring to go. A white, naturally. A nice Riesling. Bone dry and no cloying perfume. I rummaged through my “cellar” (actually a corner of the cupboard). But the only white there was an empty carton.

So I did what any person worth his decanter would do. I drove 5 miles to my favourite pub, whose chief drinks purveyor was a bit more friendly than most. I strode in, did the usual hand rituals common to thirsty travellers, and asked if he could provide the Riesling I desired. Little did I know then that this simple request would unleash a flood of invective and expressions of utter helplessness in the face of nature.

It was a rather long-winded way of saying he didn’t have the Riesling.

The pub was empty, and I invited my friend to a quiet nook at the back for a longer chat. He was anyway off duty. He grabbed a bottle of Fratelli Sauv Blanc and followed me. Seeing my raised eyebrow, he shrugged and said, “All I can offer on the house.” For which I was grateful. Keeping the wallet in the back pocket would do it no harm.

“The world”, my friend announced gravely after he had poured, sniffed, chewed and swallowed with a smack, “is about to end.” I raised another inquiring eyebrow, too busy enjoying the crisp, zesty flow of liquid on a parched tongue.

“You know I come from la France” he said, spreading his hands. Yes, I knew. “This summer has been terrible for winegrowers!” he exclaimed, eyebrows twitching. His glass was empty and I attempted to pour a refill. He raised his hand. “Wait. It needs to cool down 2 degrees more.”

“The forest fires! The massive heat across the country! The grapes ripening too fast!” I swallowed the last of my first glass with a slight tremor of the hand. Was it so bad?

It got worse. My friend reached for the bottle, decanted a distressed second pour, and continued. “My brother-in-law in Bordeaux had to wash his grapes because they were tainted by la fumée – the smoke!” I wondered if all this was coming down to a family dispute.

The second glass went down faster. The extra 2 degrees of cold seemed to calm the fire in my friend’s emotions. I was clutching my 2^nd glass like it was the last glass of wine on the planet.

“And it doesn’t end there!” my friend boomed. I looked around and saw a bar assistant look up. I nodded to her to assure her all was well. “We are producing less wine this year! Imagine la France reducing its wine production!” I could hear the utter disbelief in my friend’s voice. I found it hard to believe too. The bottle was empty now.

“Here, we pay more for importing our wine!” he spluttered. “For my wines here, the shipping costs alone have increased by 10% this year!” I frowned. This was not good news for the bank account. “But why?” I asked. “Everyone wants their slice off the top! A glass bottle costs 5% more than it did last year! And do not ask me about the price of corks and the increased tariffs!”

I stared at him, then at my glass, which was now empty. He jumped up and came back with another bottle. I was beginning to like the Fratelli.

“For you, I cannot increase my price per glass. But for me, the cost per glass is scandalous! The delivery alone is 15% higher!” he almost shrieked. A couple of customers who had entered this quiet zone beat a hurried retreat.

I started to say something about how countries like India were beginning to appreciate wine more. But he beat me to it. “Countries like your own are our saviours! We find new customers in these countries! We are happy to supply them! And they are happy to learn about good wines!”. The second bottle was noticeably fresher, with more sparkle and zest.

Like my friend.

“But that still doesn’t help me get my Alsatian whites” I grumbled. The second bottle was almost empty.

“I have a solution” my friend said in a whisper, looking left and right.

“Try Oolong tea. It’s bright, golden, zesty!”

“But it’s hot!” I said.

Wine should be enjoyed. Drink responsibly.

Disclaimer: All links provided in this column are based on my own research and are not paid or sponsored.

© 2026 Shishir V. Baxi. All rights reserved. Reproduction or redistribution without permission is prohibited.