I Thought I Would Hate Non-Alcoholic Wine. I Was Wrong.

When the doctor told me to quit drinking, I thought the world had ended. That is a bit of an overexaggeration, but I believed that everything I enjoyed about drinking alcohol would change for the worse. The rituals I had enjoyed, like taking a glass of wine to a bubble bath, were about to end forever. I was convinced that non-alcoholic wine would taste like grape juice, that I would have to settle for something sad, and that I would spend the rest of my life feeling deprived.

I was wrong about most of that. Not all of it, but most of it.

I remember buying my first bottle of non-alcoholic wine, which I call NA wine. It was a store-brand bottle of plonk, nothing fancy. I prepared myself for it to be terrible. I poured a glass, took a sip, and waited for the disappointment. It did taste like grape juice, honestly, but it tasted a little bit more like wine than I thought it would. It was not great, but it was not the disaster I had braced myself for. I thought, okay, I can probably do this. It gave me a sliver of hope.

Then I tried Tarapacá Sauvignon Blanc from Chile. I found it in the local LCBO. That was the bottle that made me stop and think. This actually tastes like wine. That was the moment I realized there might be real options out there, not just tolerable ones.

But finding a decent bottle was one thing. Actually accepting this new reality was something else entirely. That took me about six months. I went through a period where I grieved my old wine life. I missed the selection I used to have. When I drank regular wine, I knew exactly which bottles I liked and where to find them in the LCBO. I had my favourites. I knew which one went with chicken, which one I wanted on a Friday evening, and which one I would bring to a friend's house. With non-alcoholic wine, I have one or two bottles on hand at any time, if I am lucky. I live in a small town with limited options and a budget that does not stretch to online shopping very often. So I work with what I can find, and I slowly hunt for little gems when they appear.

The shift did not happen overnight. It was slow, bit by bit. I would catch myself doing something I used to do, like coming home after a busy day of shopping and thinking, I would really love a glass of wine right now. In the early days, that thought came with a pang of loss. I would reminisce about always having a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio in my fridge and then remember that I could not have a real glass of wine. But then, slowly, I started to think about it differently. I started to think ahead, and I put a bottle of NA wine in the fridge for such occasions. To have on hand as I had always done, and the sad, deprived feeling started to change. Instead of feeling like I was settling, I started to look forward to enjoying a nice glass of wine, just like before. The anticipation felt the same. The ritual felt the same. Going to the fridge, pouring a glass of wine, and sitting down in a comfy chair to enjoy it. That whole experience had not disappeared. It was still there.

That was when it occurred to me that something had changed in me. I did not feel deprived anymore. I was doing the same things, with the same habits, and the wine in my glass was still wine. It was just different wine, NA wine.

People ask me if I miss the buzz. Honestly, yes. I do miss it occasionally. There are moments when something stressful happens, and I think, a glass of wine would be really nice right now. When I ask myself why I feel that I need a glass of alcoholic wine, the answer is usually that I want to relax. The funny thing is, NA wine actually does help me relax. The act of pouring a glass while cooking dinner or to enjoy with a good friend is meditative for me. The ritual itself is the relaxation. I do not need the buzz to get that feeling.  

What I do notice is that something physical is missing. There is a warmth that comes with regular wine, a certain satisfaction that spreads through you that NA wine does not have. I could not put my finger on why that is for the longest time. Then I looked it up. It turns out that alcohol widens your blood vessels and sends warm blood to your skin. That is literally why you feel that warmth spread through your body. That doesn’t happen with NA wine. There is an actual physical sensation that is missing, and my body noticed it before my brain could explain it. I still notice it sometimes, but it does not ruin the experience. It is just a difference I have accepted.

What I appreciate now is waking up in the morning after having a glass or two of wine and feeling completely fine. No brain fog, no sluggishness, no wondering if I should have stopped at just one glass. I feel good. I know I did not drink alcohol, and that feels like a quiet win. I wonder sometimes if I would feel as good if I had been drinking regular wine. Probably not.

There are still moments when I feel the gap between alcoholic and non-alcoholic. If I am making a meal and I know exactly which wine would pair perfectly with it, I feel a pang of sadness. I only have one bottle in the fridge, and it is whatever I happened to find that week. I miss having a wine rack with options. I miss getting my favourite wine as a birthday gift. I miss the variety. I keep reminding myself that non-alcoholic wine is still in its infancy, especially in Canada. As more people discover it, the selection will grow. Someday I will walk into the LCBO and know exactly which aisle to go to, like I did before I made the change. For now, however, I work with what I have and what I can access.

I cook with NA wine the same way. If I am making mussels and I need white wine for the pot, I use whatever I have in the fridge. The only difference is that I used to keep specific wines for sipping and specific wines for cooking. Now it is all the same bottle, because that is all I have. It works fine. The mussels do not complain.

The biggest practical difference I notice is how fast I drink it. Non-alcoholic wine goes down too easily. There is no burn to slow you down, no alcohol warming effect to remind you to pace yourself. I consciously have to remind myself to slow down. To treat it like the nice bottle of wine that it is, not a glass of water. I paid good money for it. Someone put real work into making it. I should savour it, not guzzle it.

I thought I would hate having to drink NA wine. I thought I was entering a world of compromise and second-best. Instead, I found that the ritual I loved did not disappear. The anticipation, the pouring, the savouring, the relaxation, all of it is still there. I grieved the old version of my wine life for about six months. Then I realized I was still doing the same things, just with a different bottle. The world did not end. Things changed, but not in the ways I feared.

I was wrong about how this would feel. And I am glad I was.