Text João Barbosa | Translation Jani Dunne

For reasons I don’t need to mention, I have undergone face-to-face therapy and psychoanalysis. My experience doesn’t suit that joke about the patient that talks so much – which may be the case with many other people – that he puts the physician to sleep, makes them yawn or zone out and think about their shopping list.

Absolutely not. My therapist, who will remain anonymous, is the best in the world! Not that I have seen every psychoanalyst in the world, but because it’s the truth. And the truth is the truth – it’s undeniable, even if members of an investigation suggest otherwise. Like mothers: “the best in the world!”

Any good therapist will know what I mean. It helps to have somebody – who is not a part of the family or in our circle of friends, nor a work-colleague – to give us non-binding advice and acts as our mirror, asking us questions and making us think.

Whoever said that depression, nervous breakdowns or addictions cannot be (partly or entirely) healed with the help of a specialist has no idea what they are talking about. Some say that those are typical problems among rich people, lazy people or fools, etc.

No! No! And No! But one thing is for certain: you cannot be cured after five sessions. It’s expensive. But expensive is subjective. If you have a specific illness and your treatment costs a lot of money, that money never comes into the equation. However, it will be a significant sum. Each to their own pocket and each psychologist to their own price-per-appointment.

Psychologists will never replace family or friends. Although a strong emotional and affective bond is made, the psychologist is a specialised professional.

Besides, friends are like wine. I am using “wine” throughout this piece because it’s how I’m linked to Blend, but I should really be saying “alcohol”. Friends are supportive but they don’t help you heal. It’s the same with wine. A party without wine is an instant bore – of course some people overdo it and some people, because of alcoholism, can’t even touch it.

in pt.forwallpaper.com

Wine is joyful, it unleashes us, breaks the ice and makes us laugh. Don’t you enjoy have a chat with four friends? “Me, my friend and two glasses.” I think getting drunk, now and again, can be a good thing. As long as it’s only now-and-again, and as long as that you don’t get behind the wheel or go near heavy-duty machines afterwards.

We may have friends or mates in the workplace, but work is one thing and friends will be friends. In our job, we are trying to fulfil a mission, which we get paid for every month.

What I wrote above about “hygienic” inebriation is completely questionable and deemed reprehensible by many. It’s not a dogma. A friend who lends a shoulder to cry on or a cheerful hug can be just as clumsy a solution as over-drinking, despite the generosity.

Does wine help you forget? It may get some weight off, but it won’t erase your memory. Wine can throw a party? – Certainly not on its own. Wine, for an oenophile like me, is a friend. It’s not a spouse, though; it’s not the one you share your bed with, or your table, chores and bills.

Many doctors say that a glass of wine with meals (or just the one meal) is good for you. They always recommend a red, so I suspect it must be some kind of particle on the skin. If so, maybe grapes are healthier.

Another problem – a very serious one and a gateway to alcoholism – is to quench your thirst with wine. Alcohol, besides the fact that it creates all sorts of states of mind, is bad if taken in excess – whether in the short or in the long term. Furthermore, it dehydrates.

Water is the best thirst-quenching drink. You can’t beat it. Water is the best drink in the world. Wine can turn out to be a good friend or bad company; it’s a friend, it doesn’t fix the problem. To fix things, what you need is water and a psychologist.

Text João Barbosa | Translation Jani Dunne

To whom are good quality producers selling their wine? First of all: what makes a good producer? In that universe, I include those who take great care, pride and determination in what they do. They hire oenologists (in-house or otherwise) and maybe consultants who oversee production and have all the necessary equipment.

This universe accommodates a lot of wine makers in every region, who create different styles at various prices. I hear people say that, nowadays, there is no such thing as bad wine in Portugal. That’s a lie!

If 95% of the wine sold in Portugal costs less than five euros, only by chance could it possibly be good quality. Price does not tell you how bad a wine is, but it doesn’t do the opposite either. The problem with averages works for wine as it does for chickens: I ate one chicken, you ate none; between the two of us, each ate half a bird.

The average gets thrown off by low-priced wine (costing one euro or so). You can’t make a profit out of a high-standard product and then sell it for pennies, i.e. the one euro and a bit that it costs in the shop. The country is full of individual producers, companies and cooperatives that make bad wine. Some of that wine gets distilled, some of it never goes through the accountant and the rest is exported to markets where expats would die for a taste of home and where quality standards are low.

I might be pushing it a little by saying that the limit for those quality standards is three euros. I ask the wine-aware reader to avoid wine shops and look around local shops and supermarkets like Minipreço, Pingo Doce or Lidl to see what is out there. There is a lot of wine and, if you ask an employee about how much and how fast a specific wine gets sold, you will see a world you had never imagined.

Portuguese people don’t like to spend money on wine. It has low-value as a product; it’s not essential… Like with mothers: children always prefer their dog to their mother! Why? – you ask. Because mum is always there; we often only learn to appreciate her once she is very old or has left her body.

Wine © Blend All About Wine, Lda.

I ask of the wine connoisseur to ask friends – those who drink the wine that the connoisseur takes to rendezvous – how much they would be willing to pay for a bottle. In this case, I mean the Portuguese universe and not the small niche of oenophiles, their beneficiaries and those with plenty of euro to spare.

There is no lack of bad wine around. Sadly, the bag-in-box is now bad-in-box. I cannot get the picture out of my head. If anybody tries to fill a bag with wine of reasonable quality, all they get is a bad reputation. Those boxes are here to replace the demi-john.

The wandering oenophile should step out of the wine tourism spots and cute shops with a nice decor. He should look for “vinho do produtor” (producer wine) – that pure nectar, perhaps intoxicated with plant drugs. Buy it and drink it – it’s good. it’s also educational to “calibrate your palate”.

Do you need some examples? The Port in Minipreço costs three euro something… do you reckon it’s any good? Well, it has been approved. A monumental shame. Or other supermarket own-brands like Lidl or Pingo Doce. Besides those, wine from Continente has no criminal record.

A lot of bad wine is made by expert producers. Although, signing contract worth many thousands for pennies can only result in rests of the rests – easily-discarded remains. You can’t have it all! If a distribution chain wants a discount, they can’t expect high quality,

If a country doesn’t take pride in its wine – although, according to vox pop, we have the best in the world – and doesn’t pay the fair price, why not show them the door. I would certainly say that the best thing to happen to good producers was recession.

Imagine the (many) producers making good wine and having to borrow customers from competitors – “you take my business, I’ll take the next one’s” – but are also hoodwinked by non-paying distributors or restaurant owners. To them, the recession was a winning lottery ticket.

They spend more money anyway. It means more work and less hours of sleep, but at least their work is acknowledged and some customers are willing to pay more – the fair price.

Text João Barbosa | Translation Bruno Ferreira

I confess I don’t get the need to differentiate wines in «generous» (fortified) and liqueur when they’re practically the same. The difference isn’t subtle, for the terms differentiate nobility from common people. The «generous» wines are produced in DOCs while the liqueur are labeled IPR or just table wine.

It’s not really quite like that. «Generous» are the Porto, Madeira, Setúbal and Carcavelos wines. Obviously, there are simple liqueur wines that are better than some fortified.

Península de Setúbal wine

Ignoring the semantics – because «all» the wine is «generous» – it matters to point out the ability that the Portuguese possess to produce these nectars. The process is «simple», that’s why there are multiple imitations – almost all with malice -, but it’s not like boiling eggs. The Port wine is the obvious victim. A fate that only reinforces its importance.

There are those who classify the late harvest wines – foremost examples are the Tokaji (Tokay, in former nomenclature) and the Sauterne – as «generous». Mistakenly, as far as I see, because the methods are distinct. I’m neither academic nor oenologist, so in this discussion, I’ll refrain myself, and I’ll even recognize that it’s a pickiness.

To each mouth, its judgment! To each nose, ditto. In the wonderful world of wine fit grape varieties and regions, which sometimes are nearly the same thing. From the washed-out white to the darkest, there are nectars that we prefer.

Of all, the «generous» fascinate me (liqueur included), they are capable of everything. From appetizer to dessert, starter or conversation’s companion. In this rectangle of mainland and both autonomous archipelagos there’s a multiplicity of genres.

The personalities come from the grapes, locations, and men’s practices. Somebody wrote, in the XIX century, that there are as many Porto wine varieties as there are ribbons on a haberdasher. The IVDP’s website itself does not make reference to all its varieties… now, the Madeira, I think its study is sort of like a Degree.

Madeira wine

I’ve got a very special affection by the Carcavelos wine, a monument that Lisbon city – in its metropolitan dimension – eroded, leaving next to nothing to do. The demarcation encompasses parts of the Oeiras and Cascais municipalities. There are at most five estates that are fit to produce this wine near the sea. One of them is in charge of public authorities – Oeiras City Hall and the Agriculture Ministry – and the others live in a silent darkness.

Carcavelos wine

The municipality’s oenologist told me that, when they went forward with the idea of producing Carcavelos wine it was impossible to find a conducting wire. After the many bottles that they tasted, each producer had its own style.

On the one hand it’s good, because it opens up the window to fantasy: «What might it have been? How good it would be if… Ah! If I could… ». On the other hand, it’s depressing because it’s a collection impossible to recuperate. Five or six estates cannot draw the painting.

The Carcavelos wine is some sort of Iberian lynx or brown bear. But political power through public entities’ actions, can interpose in its conservation. The Agricultural Ministry gives the land and the Oeiras Municipality does the job.

Porto Wine

There’s no such thing as the «best wine on earth»… but generally speaking, we have two of the greatest wines of the world: Porto and Madeira. Woefully unknown to the majority of Portuguese people. One of the many idiosyncrasies…