Unlike the first bottle, the second must be profound. In selecting, you are obliged to demonstrate sophistication without descending into foolishness. Nobody wants to hear your reflections on the beads of dew you observed on the leaves of Pinot Noir vines when bicycling through the Côte d’Or in ’92. Save your ruminations on imaginary nymphs frolicking in the fields. And for goodness’ sake, do not talk like some early-twentieth-century English fop, describing the bottles you decide against as guttersnipes. Never mention Bacchus. Ever.

That’s from Alan Richman’s tips for ordering wine at dinner.