America, we have a wine problem. No, this isn’t that kind of intervention.

When was the last time you felt embarrassed and clueless when ordering juice, ice cream, or smoothies? Now, how about wine? In much of the world, wine is a staple of daily life, the standard beverage that’s made nearby and served at every meal. So how is it that, in the U.S., so many of us find choosing a bottle of wine an intimidating ordeal? Wine shouldn't be mysterious or scary; ordering it should be as fun as ordering ice cream.

A Culture of Fear

Let's stop being scared. Our culture has somehow convinced us that you have to know a lot about wine in order to talk about it. Patrice Boyle, owner of Santa Cruz, California’s Soif Wine Bar & Merchants and 35-year industry veteran, notices trends of insecurity at her restaurants: “Some people immediately say they don't know anything about wine and throw themselves at your feet. Others are defensive about what they do know and don't want anyone to tell them anything.”

Between ratings systems (looking at you, Robert Parker) and insider lingo (“terroir” and “tannins,” anyone?), wine often seems like something you practically need a degree in to enjoy. It's really more algebra than astrophysics, though; while a connoisseur can of course find plenty to study, what the average wine drinker needs to know is actually quite straightforward. But, acknowledges Sarah Jane Evans, chairman of the Institute of Masters of Wine, “I also think there are people who have a vested interest in keeping [wine] complicated.” That is, some people like feeling that they're part of a rarified club—and there's money to be made from perpetuating this elitist approach.

Swirling your wine doesn't release secret knowledge. It just opens up scents and flavors. Photo: Jamie Chung Jamie Chung

The European Approach

For all the international luxury market around it now, wine began as a safe alternative to contaminated water, a humble origin continued in the tradition of table wines. In Europe (and much of the rest of the world), people still tend to drink their local wines, and, outside major cities, it can often be hard to find those made elsewhere. Arthur O’Connor, the winemaker behind Codorníu Raventós, Spain's oldest winery, points out: “In most restaurants in Rioja, you can’t get a wine from Ribera del Duero, which is two hours away—you get Rioja. And in Ribera del Duero, you get Ribera del Duero.” When O’Connor was based in Catalonia, he would regularly drive an hour across the border into France in order to get southern French rosé, which wasn’t sold in Barcelona.

This focus on the local product means there are fewer choices for wine drinkers—which, in turn, eliminates the need for rankings, reviews, and a certain preciousness that portends elitism. With these out of the equation, the most important thing becomes whether you like the wine or not. Johannes Selbach—of the Selbach-Oster and J & H Selbach wineries in southern Germany’s Mosel region, whose family has been in the wine business for 400 years—cites his father’s approach to wine as, “The best wine, when you have several choices, is the one where the bottle goes empty the fastest.” Well, if that's what the professionals say…