Pretending to be an Anthropologist at a
Wine Auction

04.16.08
Or, how I scribbled notes without spilling Sauvignon Blanc.
wine auction

I had been to one other charity wine auction in my 40-odd previous years. It had begun with elevenses of Champagne under a billowing white tent. And it had ended sloppily, with snatched Barolo, in an adjacent parking lot.

This one—specifically the 16th annual High Museum Atlanta Wine Auction, held last month—was to be different. Figured I’d treat this one less like a fraternity open house, more like an anthropological expedition.

Participant Observation. That’s a term that real-live anthropologists use, a term I love. As employed here, it implies that, while attending weekend events, while drinking wine and eating various savory and sweet bonbons, I took notes and tried to think critically.

Here’s what I gleaned:

· We’re not in a true-blue recession. If we were, the auctioneer wouldn’t have had to chastise overanxious bidders by announcing, “Sir, you’re bidding against yourself. Do you really want to do that? Well, alright, we appreciate the support.”

· Atlanta takes its annual wine auction seriously. But it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Especially when it has a buzz on. As strobe lights pulsed and the Social Register set gargled Burgundies beneath the big-top tent, a rather unconventional roster of songs boomed through the speakers. The sing-along favorite was “Rehab” by Amy Winehouse, that catchy little tune that hinges on the following: “They tried to make me go to rehab but I said no, no, no.”

· Atlanta has a stronger culinary culture than some detractors acknowledge. It’s a culinary culture that visiting winemakers tend to embrace. To wit: As the afternoon slid toward evening and the gavel came down on record bids, a close observer spied Garen and Shari Staglin (of cult Cabernet fame) drinking six-and-a-half-ounce glass bottles of Coke, the house wine of Atlanta. At about the same time, Jim Clendenen, the lion-tressed proprietor of Au Bon Climat Winery, could be seen slathering goat cheese on a hot dog from The Varsity, the city’s favorite drive-in. “I wanted one with chili,” he said, “but, hey, this goat cheese stuff is pretty good.”

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