Chona Kasten’s rule: Never drink to get drunk
‘It may be wise to practice the art of restraint: stop drinking before making a complete fool of yourself. They will gossip for years to come.’
I will, today, during this merrymaking season, share some of our joyful encounters with wine. “The sources of the world’s best wines are as varied as those who collect the bottles they keep to savor,” Chona commented many times. She was never a real connoisseur, even after joining a number of wine-tasting tours. I must confess that the more sophisticated members of gourmet and international wine clubs are the collectors who are so impressively savvy and serious about wine. The ritzy collector designs wine storage to match a lifestyle of constant early drinking and frequent entertainment. Their prized bottles are always in a protected environment. Others celebrate more often than not, while young romantics grow with the wines they start with, and learn to appreciate wine as they mature and immerse themselves in a more “cosmo” lifestyle.
It takes almost a lifetime to learn about the different grapes, bouquets and flavors of hundreds of thousands of wines. Past guiding rules — like red wine with meat and rich fowl like duck, versus white wine with fish, poultry and vegetables; or sherry with soup and cognac with dessert — have long been broken and choices are left to the individual, except maybe during a sit-down dinner. This brings to mind a recent enjoyable sit-down celebration La Divina would have thoroughly enjoyed: it was hosted by chef Robbie Santos and Jaime Ponce de Leon; with charcuterie, soup, nuts and a strictly Filipino menu, chicly prepared by Robbie’s trained staff, with a matching overflow of reds, whites and bubblies of our choice, served in exquisite carafes and wine glasses to enhance the delicious menu. We dined with “porcelanous” chinaware and Belgian table linen and silver. Spanish cold cuts were passed around, but we later took our 12 nameplates seriously and sat comfortably to conversations that went from intimate to crazy.
Chona always raved about the cellars in France, Italy, Spain, Germany, California, Argentina and New York. Nevertheless, we as a family would be content with a few cases — select bottles lying horizontally in holders, placed in cool corners of the pantry or a chiller. Our Philippine room temperature for red wine seemed a tinge too warm. Many of her friends invested in luxurious walk-in cellars in their basements or, if it was an old estate castle, their remade dungeons like that of the late Stefano Borghese.
We did not really mind sipping the table wines they served at the Spanish tascas, or bars that we would go in and out of during the lunch or cocktail hours — be they the crowded and noisy bars at the Plaza España, or the swanky ones on Calle Serrano — simply for the lively, rustic ambience and the nonstop flow of aperitifs, like sizzling angulas or baby eel, freshly steamed or sautéed shrimp, tortilla de patatas soaked in olive oil, and tiny or large garlic mushrooms with tiny manchego squares. They would always serve tinto or red, but I always asked for blanco or rosé. It is, though, very superficial and pretentious to order the most expensive wine on a restaurant’s list just because it’s pricy or to impress the other diners.
We also enjoyed fabulous wines served at private dinners at Anton Roxas’s home, or banquets hosted by the late Tito Andy Soriano, Jr., and of course the informal banquets with Tito Beni Toda on his private island, Hermana Mayor; the black-tie affairs, also at their residences, including those at Tito Edu and Tita Pili Roxas’s, or at Tito Jaime and Tita Bea Zobel de Ayala’s home. And the customary New Year’s Eve dinners either at the Rochas in Mandaluyong or with Charlie Palanca’s family at their Taft Avenue compound.
As a student in Europe, my mother made sure I learned as much as I could about wine. At the time, and even today, France is known to have the best wines in the world (Loire, Champagne, Bordeaux). Many neighboring countries come close, like Italy’s Tuscan region, or even Germany and Spain. The soil and weather make the difference, as well as the grape varieties, and, naturally, the oak barrel aging process. The aroma and taste depend on the individual. Hard, fast rules and taste levels have been modified through the years.
The Apennine Valley divides Italy into the east and west. The vine varieties not only use red or white grapes, but also pear, cherry, black currant and apple. My mother enjoyed the drier wines, but I love fruity wines, a bit sweeter like the German Riesling and the Gewürztraminer whites. In 1961, Berlucchi was the first to come up with an Italian sparkling wine to compete with champagne. If one is on a real budget, any spumanti (bubbly or sparkling) of any brand will do, or select any affordable red or white. Most ladies prefer the popular Chablis, Chardonnay, or Sauvignon Blanc or grigio; and for bubblies, Prosecco or Champagne.
However, my mother would gently remind us before a party, “Simply remember to hold the wine glass at the stem. It is most appropriate, especially for champagne and chilled wine. And it may be wise to practice the art of restraint: never drink to get drunk. Stop before making a complete fool of yourself. They will gossip for years to come.”
