Photo by Gabriel Termuehlen
Two and a shoe
The maenads were the female followers of the Greek god of wine, Dionysus. (In Roman religion, the god was called Bacchus, his female followers, bacchantes.) They roved the mountains and forests worshiping their god ritualistically. They danced ecstatically. They had orgies. They were wasted.
The first thing to know about wine—before you know the names of its great appellations and the years of their best vintages, before you know the way its growers cultivate and crush their wine grapes, and before you know the way its makers ferment, vinify, and age their grape juice—the very first thing to know about wine is its mythical power to metamorphose you. The American educator and author Edith Hamilton wrote about how “the influence” of Dionysus could make his worshippers do what they didn’t think they could do. Or would do. “All this happy freedom and confidence passed away, of course, as they either grew sober or got drunk,” writes Hamilton, “but while it lasted, it was like being possessed by a power greater than themselves.”
Since the Greek age which conjured myths of maenads roving mountains and forests, we’ve told ourselves a story about how wine can animate and fortify the energy of our sexuality — its libido, its potency, its pleasure. The story says wine has the power to change our hearts. It says wine has the power to seduce us.
Can wine pharmacologically make us want more sex? Can it improve our prowess sexually?
No, it cannot.
Do we have a body of mythology which says it can?
Yes, we do.
In the past fifteen years, we’ve asked science to prove the story we tell ourselves about wine. But it hasn’t yet. Not neurologically. What we know is that the alcohol in wine, beer, and spirits is called ethanol, which stimulates a part of the brain called the hypothalamus, which is as small as an almond. What we know is the hypothalamus governs our body temperature and physiological cycles, our appetites and emotions, our hormones and our libidos.
But the spell of mythology is powerful, isn’t it? And you’d kind of like to drink an aphrodisiac with your Valentine, wouldn’t you?
I’ve asked three fellow worshippers in the cult of Dionysus if they think any wine or fermented beverage can serve as an aphrodisiac. And, if so, which beverages are they?
- Les Huisman
- Wine Distributor
- Vino Veritas
“Do I believe wine is a ‘magic’ love potion that makes one desire something that they wouldn’t otherwise desire? No, I don’t. Nor do I believe wine makes you do anything you wouldn’t already do. Wine does act as a social lubricant and decreases inhibitions. Over the years, I’ve noticed that when I have become intoxicated while drinking wine, it is a warmer feeling than with other spirits. This can lead to an increase in desire and may stir up amorous notions that may have not been felt while sober. In this sense, I feel wine can have the effect of an aphrodisiac in the right conditions.
“If there was one wine that can be called an aphrodisiac, I would say Champagne. The celebratory nature of drinking bubbles opens the mind and heart to enjoying the day or night. Carbonation delivers alcohol into the bloodstream faster. One gets that lovely light-headed feeling a little quicker while sipping Champagne, but without the kick of high alcohol content. Those fine Champagne bubbles and the right company increase the odds of a romantic evening.”
- Bill Gardner
- Domestic Wine Brand Manager
- Left Bank Wine and Spirits
"I’m not a doctor, and I fear there are only cliches here.
“That said, grower Champagne wraps the debaucherous pursuit in a veneer of class. H. Billiot is an excellent Champagne house in the Montagne de Reims with a heady, borderline Rococo style. If it doesn't help close the deal, at least you're drinking badass Champagne. And if appearing classy isn't a priority, Tequila is sublime. Pan to gently billowing bedroom curtains."
- Jill Mott
- Wine Director
- The Carlyle, New York City
“Any wine never exists in a vacuum, so stating a wine in and of itself could act as an aphrodisiac, I honestly don't think so. Wine, even if it's consumed alone, tastes a certain way due to our mood or our paying more or less attention to it. That said, perhaps it could lend a hand to an already aphrodisiac-riddled situation? Or propel an affair in that direction?
“I won't comment on which, unless we talk about oyster brine in Stouts.”
