This article and its protagonist are very vexing. My major problem with this is that it was published in a literary magazine and not a wine magazine. That means it is going out to people who probably don't have a lot of interactions with the larger wine community. It taints their perception and ossifies one of the sommelier as a thief willing and ready to take advantage. Sommeliers like Amelia do a disservice not only to the reputation of sommeliers but also to the wine industry in general. This article referenced sets back any hope we may have of rehabilitating and reinvigorating our industry.
There's a lot to comment on here, so I'll try to be concise. I'm speaking as a former server, sommelier and restaurant manager.
We know that sommeliers like Amelia exist, but I suspect they're confined to major markets, DC included. In a smaller community, I don''t think a restaurant could survive with someone like that on the floor.
Everyone reads the customer. You have about 90 seconds to observe the party as they as led to their table and seated, and during that time you need to formulate a rough idea of how you'll approach them. Not doing so would be like refusing to steal signs in baseball.
I was probably an anomaly as a sommelier, because I wrote a list almost devoid of trophies and geared toward someone looking for wine to drink with dinner. Sommeliers love to brag about the high-end wines they "sold," but in realty no one sells those: the customer arrives at the restaurant with a desire to impress everyone in sight. Otherwise, there's no way you could talk a sane person into buying a bottle of Screaming Eagle.
There's no need to make fun of the biodynamic cult. They've already made jackasses out of themselves.
And Karen MacNeil? I'd love to see her working on a restaurant floor. It's a way different perspective.
I don't have anything helpful to say, other than this is sad.
I'm a romantic at heart, I realize. An idealist. I want Italy to be full of La Dolce Vita. And I want to drink wine as if I'm in a Baudelaire poem.
I guess what's at the core of this (as Wendy said) is empathy. Integrity. A choice to live in such a way that sloughs off cynicism despite the training we are all getting from our algorithms.
I have heard this scenario all too frequently Dave. But there are still a few of us out here who truly care about caring for a customer and really helping them explore the world of wine without pretention, versus pushing our own agenda on them. I wish I had the answer, but it all just depends on whose hands are on the bottle or behind the bar. How do you train for empathy?
This article and its protagonist are very vexing. My major problem with this is that it was published in a literary magazine and not a wine magazine. That means it is going out to people who probably don't have a lot of interactions with the larger wine community. It taints their perception and ossifies one of the sommelier as a thief willing and ready to take advantage. Sommeliers like Amelia do a disservice not only to the reputation of sommeliers but also to the wine industry in general. This article referenced sets back any hope we may have of rehabilitating and reinvigorating our industry.
There's a lot to comment on here, so I'll try to be concise. I'm speaking as a former server, sommelier and restaurant manager.
We know that sommeliers like Amelia exist, but I suspect they're confined to major markets, DC included. In a smaller community, I don''t think a restaurant could survive with someone like that on the floor.
Everyone reads the customer. You have about 90 seconds to observe the party as they as led to their table and seated, and during that time you need to formulate a rough idea of how you'll approach them. Not doing so would be like refusing to steal signs in baseball.
I was probably an anomaly as a sommelier, because I wrote a list almost devoid of trophies and geared toward someone looking for wine to drink with dinner. Sommeliers love to brag about the high-end wines they "sold," but in realty no one sells those: the customer arrives at the restaurant with a desire to impress everyone in sight. Otherwise, there's no way you could talk a sane person into buying a bottle of Screaming Eagle.
There's no need to make fun of the biodynamic cult. They've already made jackasses out of themselves.
And Karen MacNeil? I'd love to see her working on a restaurant floor. It's a way different perspective.
I don't have anything helpful to say, other than this is sad.
I'm a romantic at heart, I realize. An idealist. I want Italy to be full of La Dolce Vita. And I want to drink wine as if I'm in a Baudelaire poem.
I guess what's at the core of this (as Wendy said) is empathy. Integrity. A choice to live in such a way that sloughs off cynicism despite the training we are all getting from our algorithms.
Voices like yours help.
Yours, too!
I have heard this scenario all too frequently Dave. But there are still a few of us out here who truly care about caring for a customer and really helping them explore the world of wine without pretention, versus pushing our own agenda on them. I wish I had the answer, but it all just depends on whose hands are on the bottle or behind the bar. How do you train for empathy?
We all need empathy in every walk of life. That’s the universality of this story.