A dinner date with the algorithm

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Drinking notes: on music and wine is a short weekend newsletter exploring music and wine pairings, delving into stories and observations about each. Written by two music-loving wine professionals.

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Music, food, and wine. All are best served with the right company. Wine especially. A dinner party with friends on Friday night showed the magic when all three come together. An evening where each were given the time and space to reach their full potential — unlike being huddled around a plastic spitoon with your colleagues in a cold and gloomy London office.

Following a delicious preamble of Cynar-based Americanos and salt and vinegar crisps, we sat down for our first course with a glass of Alma Fria’s Sparkling Pinot Noir Rosé in hand. By now, the playlist had shifted from Cream to Bobby Womack, the earthiness and angularity of ‘White Room’ subbed out for the bittersweet and soulful reimagining of ‘California Dreamin’’. New flavours, familiar sounds. Wild raspberries, rosehip, and grapefruit acting as the perfect foil for Womack’s plaintive cry. The wine would have received a courteous sniff if someone were to pop down a glass on my desk at work. An excel spreadsheet taking precedence over contemplation and appreciation. But here, with music and friends, it had my full attention. The intensification of flavour shrouded in a mantle of ethereal candelight. 

The night continued with more great music. The Zombies, Grace Jones, Nina Simone. More delicious food came in the form of parmigiana di melanzane and homemade meringue. As the evening drew to a close (and the chances of catching the last train home grew ever slimmer), a song came on that caught my attention. A song that I’d only heard for the first time that same week. Spooky, I thought. What are the chances of that? Yes, we have very similar tastes in music, but perhaps my friend and I had both been on the same spontaneous voyage of musical discovery. Or maybe it was synchronicity’s idea of a funny joke. My friend looked at his phone and let out a frustrated groan.

The algorithm had taken over. Somehow the song had tiptoed its way into the playlist. Slinking through the backdoor, its mac coat collar popped like cardboard box flaps to hide its face. It wasn’t until the song was exposing itself in the middle of the dining room that we realised it didn’t quite belong here.

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We are engineered to behave in certain ways. Streaming services such as Spotify create the illusion of endless choice. In reality, they only dilate the bubble in which we already find ourselves trapped; they are the sheepdog herding its flock into a pen. What you may think of as being a niche discovery has in fact been carefully and deliberately ushered your way. There’s a time and place for it, no doubt. Whenever I’m feeling lazy and unsure what to listen to, but know the mood I’m in, the algorithm can lend a helping hand. No effort on my part required. Click “Go to song radio” and kick your feet up. However, the algorithm doesn’t always get it right. When it goes wrong, it can make you feel as if your whole character has been misinterpreted, as if someone is putting words into your mouth. How dare you assume I want to listen to ‘Rich Girl’ because I’ve hit play on ‘Come Together’. 

If the algorithm had had its way with our setlist of wines that evening, I’m sure we would have been coerced into moving from López de Heredia to another Spanish rosado such as Alonso & Pedrajo’s Suañé. And that’s if it was being kind. Otherwise it would have been a bottle of White Zinfandel and a slap around the face with a wet kipper. Thankfully, our hosts are smarter than any computer and so we segued seamlessly into a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino, before a reprisal of Americanos capped off the night. When it comes to hosting an evening, we still have the upper hand over the bots (for now).

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What I’ve been listening to this week:

‘Whatcha Gonna Do’ by The Valdons

Thanks to the algorithm, I recently stumbled across The Valdons. An initial search on the internet proved fruitless (by which I mean The Valdons don’t have a Wikipedia page). I eventually discovered that, during the group’s heyday in the 1970s, they were the musical mayors of Minneapolis. However, they only released one single to limited commercial success. It wasn’t until 2012-2013 when Secret Stash Records got the band back together to remaster and revive old rehearsal tapes that the band had audible proof of their talents.

‘Whatcha Gonna Do’ is a sorrowful soul number, the despondency in Clifton Curtis’ verses held up by the supportive hand of an unwavering electric organ, like an R&B reboot of Arctic Monkey’s 505. The song then launches into a chorus of anguish with the backing singers’ falsetto and an equally broken-hearted brass section. A melancholic major 7th chord hitting you right in the feels. When the algorithm gets it right.  

You might also like… ‘Didn’t I’ by Darondo or ‘I Forgot To Be Your Lover’ by William Bell.

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What I’ve been drinking:

López de Heredia’s 2011 Viña Tondonia Rosado Gran Reserva

It would be disingenuous of me to name-drop López de Heredia without at least spending some time talking about their Rosado Gran Reserva. I think at one point in the evening I proclaimed that this is the single greatest wine in the world. Over-enthusiasm and tipsiness aside, there aren’t many wines like this in the world. In fact, it’s one of the few wines where describing it as ‘unique’ is correct. The wine is a hybrid creature of folkloric proportions. One half white wine, one half red. Tell your brain it’s the former and sure enough you’ll find flavours of fennel, yellow flowers, and wild mushroom. Think of it as a red wine, and there will be cranberries, balsam, and clove spice. Be like our hosts and remove from the fridge two hours before serving.

You might also like… see above. Nothing compares to this wine.

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