May you be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows you’re
dead.
One quaint tradition that has survived into the digital age is
the custom of toasting. There’s something deeply satisfying about
raising a glass with friends or family and belting out a hearty
”
cheers
”
before enjoying a sip of fine wine.
May you be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
One quaint tradition that has survived into the digital age is the custom of toasting. There’s something deeply satisfying about raising a glass with friends or family and belting out a hearty “cheers” before enjoying a sip of fine wine.
It’s an ancient practice. One theory I’ve read about the origins of toasting each other’s health claims that it was a way of reassuring your drinking companions that the wine you are about to share is not poisoned. That was sort of a vocal handshake, a gesture originally intended to demonstrate that one was not carrying a weapon.
The word “toast” has interesting origins. In Roman times, wine drinkers used to put toasted bread in wine that had gone slightly bad to make it more palatable. Weird as that may sound, the charcoal in the toast actually neutralizes some of the acid, and therefore diminishes the acidity of wine. Eventually, the Latin word tostus (roasted or parched) was adopted as the name of the drink itself. Later, in the 18th century, people like to salute people who weren’t present – especially beautiful ladies. Women so honored were called “the toast of the town.”
These days, “toast” refers to something different in the wine business. The oak barrels used to age wine are sometimes burned a little on the inside prior to use. Reading the labels on wine barrels at wineries, you may see the words “medium toast” or “light toast” and those terms indicate the amount the wood was burned. There is also a wine called “Toasted Head.” The name comes from the practice of some winemakers toasting only the ends or “heads” of the barrels.
Toasting is now a part of just about every occasion that we celebrate with others. Weddings, birthdays, retirement parties, going-away parties, wakes – you name it, and there will be someone there raising his or her glass and saying something witty before all partake of the proffered beverage. Toasts range from the simple to the sublime, from original to clichéd, from intelligent to downright stupid. Here is a selection of basic toasts from around the world:
Britain: Cheers!
Germany: Prosit!
Greece: Yasas!
Italy: Salute!
France: A votre sante!
In Hebrew: L’Chayim!
Sweden: Skal! (or Skol!)
Japan: Kanpai!
There are lots more. Seems like every society has adopted toasting. It’s as universal as wine is becoming, and with good reason: it’s fun. And when we do it, we’re keeping alive a long and lovely tradition. Here’s one that I particularly like:
Observe, when Mother Earth is dry
She drinks the dropping of the sky,
And then the dewy cordial gives
To every thirsty plant that lives.
The vapors which at evening weep
Are beverage to the swelling deep;
And when the rosy sun appears
He drinks the ocean’s misty tears.
The moon too quaffs her paly stream
Of luster from the solar beam.
Then hence with your sober thinking!
Since nature’s holy law is drinking,
I’ll make the law of Nature mine,
And pledge the Universe in wine.
– Tom Moore
And then there’s one that my brother-in-law Skip is fond of:
Here’s to you
And here’s to me
And if ever we should disagree
@#%! you
And here’s to me.
Sayonara
This is the final Wine Chat column for this paper. I’ve enjoyed occupying this space for the past year or so, but the best part was the people I met while doing research. Time precluded me from doing features on all the wineries and winemakers that I wanted to write about. When I started, I had the best of intentions. But the necessity of making a living got in the way.
I hope that those who have read my ramblings have come away with a little more understanding of the wine world. My aim was to demystify it a little for those who may be intimidated by all the hoity-toityness of the wine industry. Mainly, I hope I brought a smile to your face occasionally, and maybe even a little giggle. Thanks to Colleen Valles, the editor of these pages, for giving me the opportunity to do this. And I hope that whoever does get to write the wine column after me has half as much fun as I did.
Here’s mud in your eye!
Michael Chatfield is a freelance writer and musician. He lives in Hollister.
