Current thinking dictates that drinking on your own is socially frowned upon. It is obviously the start of a slippery slope to alcoholism and personal degradation. Or is it? I am going to make a stand, risk becoming a social pariah, and declare that drinking alone is a saintly past time. I am not talking about drinking special brew out of a brown paper bag when no one is looking, nailing a bottle of vodka a night or not remember making it to bed each night and so before the anti alcohol lobby pitches their tents outside my flat and sharpens their pitchforks let me explain my reasons.
1) Firstly, when drinking alone I am more likely to open something really good, as at no point is it going to be wasted on someone who isn’t going to appreciate it to the full.
2) I can completely submerge myself in the wine without being distracted, it is a little like sinking into a hot bath and letting your senses run away with you.
3) Extensive personal study has proven that I drink considerably less when alone as I savour each sip rather than losing track of the number of glasses that have disappeared between the chatter.
That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy sharing a good bottle of wine with a worthy companion; discussing it’s virtues and chewing the fat, just that it is by no means a prerequisite to vinous enjoyment. In fact, that feeling of indulgence that comes with opening a bottle of something lovely, just for you, makes it taste that much better. As Cheryl Cole keeps telling me… it’s because I’m worth it.
And so, although it is not glamorous or sexy to admit that I am currently sitting cross legged on the sofa, on my own with a damn fine glass of Vina Pedrosa Crianza 2006 from Ribera del Duero, the wine couldn’t taste better if it tried. Bridget Jones be damned, there is a saintly side to solo drinking.