We Tried to Become Wine People

My wife and I are not a wine couple. We’re a coffee and tea couple. Pour over single origin coffee every morning — I have a Hario V60 setup that I take maybe too seriously — and chamomile in the evening. Wine never made the rotation.

Then we went to Italy last June 2025, and wine was everywhere.

The moment that started it

Every restaurant had a wine list. Every meal began with the same question: red or white? The waiter would hand us a leather-bound binder with Italian names we couldn’t pronounce, regions we’d never heard of, and prices that ranged from “sure” to “that’s my weekly grocery budget.”

We’d try ordering for the sake of it. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it tasted like regret in a stem glass. After a few tries, we decided to stick with water for now.

Back in Tokyo

When we got home to Tokyo, we made a decision. We’re going back to Europe. Maybe next year, maybe the year after. And when we do, we’re not pointing at the middle of the list anymore.

So we started learning. Not with a class or a book. Just bottles.

We picked up different varieties. Moscato, pinot grigio, a Burgundy red I could barely spell. We’d open one with dinner, take notes like we were reviewing code, and try to find the words for what we were tasting.

The honest truth: we enjoyed the experience of trying, but the taste never quite clicked. A glass would last us the whole evening. The bottle would go back in the fridge, and we’d reach for it again a few days later. Not because it was bad. Just because it wasn’t for us.

Then we tried it with dessert.

That changed everything.

The sweet spot

Pair wine with gelato, a good vanilla ice cream, or a slice of cake. Suddenly it made sense. The sweetness of the dessert brought out something in the wine that wasn’t there on its own. Moscato d’Asti especially. Light, fruity, naturally sweet. It worked.

An off-dry Riesling with a strawberry shortcake? Also worked. The acidity cut through the sweetness and left a clean finish. I could drink that.

Without dessert? Back to the same shrug. We tried wine with steak, pasta, roasted vegetables. Some pairings clicked, most didn’t. I can see why people love it — the ritual, the way a good red can transform a meal. It just didn’t transform ours.

From drinking to cooking

All those bottles we opened and barely drank didn’t go to waste. I started cooking with wine instead.

Beef bourguignon was first. You sear the beef first, then dump a whole bottle of red into the pot with mushrooms and pearl onions, let it simmer for three hours, and what’s left is rich and deep in a way water or broth can’t touch.

Coq au vin was next. Same idea, different protein. Chicken braised in red wine with bacon and garlic. Comfort food that tastes like effort even though the wine does half the lifting.

Cottage pie was the surprise. A splash of red in the beef filling, just enough to deglaze the pan and add some depth. It was the best cottage pie I’ve ever made.

Where we’re at

We’re not wine people yet. We still can’t describe tannins without sounding like we’re making it up. We don’t have a favorite vintage, and we probably never will.

But we know what we like now. Moscato d’Asti with anything sweet. An off-dry Riesling when there’s fruit involved. A Burgundy red that does more for the pot than it ever did for the glass. Whites we actually finish before putting back in the fridge. Reds we love in a pot. It’s not a sophisticated conclusion, but it’s ours.

We’re closer than we were when we were pointing at the middle of the list in Rome and hoping for the best. Next time we go back, we’ll at least know what to ask for.