5 Wine Rules That Deserve to Be Broken, According to Sommeliers

Many people fall in love with wine because of how it makes them feel — relaxed, connected to others, and curious about what each glass has to offer. But somewhere along the way, the joy can get buried under rules about the “right” glass, the “right” temperature, the “right” pairing. The result is a lot of unnecessary intimidation around something meant to be fun.

June Rodil wants to bring the fun back. At this year’s Food & Wine Classic in Aspen, her panel Wine Rules That Deserve to Be Broken champions a simpler philosophy: Trust yourself, break the rules, and drink what makes you happy. 

“If you love it, you're right. Wine is supposed to feel like joy, not homework,” Rodil says. And she’s far from alone — many of the country’s top sommeliers are quietly (and not so quietly) dismantling the old commandments.

Forget the fish-and-white, meat-and-red rule

Rodil rejects this binary entirely. She’ll happily pour chilled reds with seafood and textured whites with steak. “If it’s the right moment,” she says, the pairing works.

Baker‑Briggs argues that Champagne or aged White Burgundy often outperforms the classic big‑red‑with‑steak formula because acidity cuts through richness more effectively. Jonathan Eichholz, an educator with GuildSomm and host of Munchies’ The Wine Show, suggests pairing older Riesling or Chenin Blanc with a rib eye to cut the fat, unlock a new set of aromatic compounds, and “thank him later.”

Stop serving red wine at room temperature

Few rules have survived as stubbornly — or as incorrectly — as this one. Modern “room temperature” is far warmer than the cellars that originally inspired the guideline, and Rodil has no patience for the myth. “If it’s lighter‑bodied, I’m chilling it, and I’m not apologizing,” she says.

Anthony Giglio, a wine writer and educator who’s teaching a seminar called Chilled Reds for Hot Days in Aspen, has spent decades trying to correct the misconception. If you accidentally overchill red wine, it will warm up.

“But if you serve me an 80°F red and food is on the table? I’m going to have a hissy fit,” Giglio says. At that temperature, he explains, “the perception of tannin and alcohol rises … everything is out of whack.”

Jon McDaniel, a Chicago sommelier and founder of Second City Soil, agrees that Americans often drink reds too warm and whites too cold. “Cool-climate reds should be enjoyed cool,” he says. In Arizona, where summer never really ends, wine educator Samantha Capaldi chills everything. “I chill all of my reds,” she says, whether they are Cabernet or Pinot Noir.

Price isn't a measure of quality

Price is one of the most persistent sources of wine anxiety, and Capaldi sees it repeatedly in her tastings. People assume an expensive bottle demands an elaborate meal, or that a $5 wine can’t possibly be good. She waves all of that away. “Eat and drink whatever you want, regardless of the price,” she says.

McDaniel agrees: “Price is not a tasting note. Delicious is delicious.” 

Eichholz notes that price often has more to do with a winery’s business model than what’s in the bottle. “Wine is an economy of scale,” he says. “Price is never a reflection of quality.”

Not every wine needs a decanter

Decanting is one of wine’s most ritualized gestures, yet it turns out to be far more flexible than many drinkers realize. Baker‑Briggs avoids decanting many reds, especially Burgundy, because “you miss the evolution.” Capaldi rarely decants at home either, preferring to simply open a bottle and “let it sit for 20 minutes.”

Eichholz warns that older wines often suffer from too much air. “Many wines past 20 years do not need air,” he says, and over-decanting too much will shorten the amount of time the drinker can enjoy the wine in the glass.

Champagne doesn't need a flute

Rodil doesn’t hesitate to toss this one out. For her, the flute is less a celebration than a constraint. “I want to smell my wine,” she says, and a narrow glass simply doesn’t allow it. She’s also refreshingly unprecious about what the “right” glass actually is. Some days it’s a Zalto; some days it’s a “ridiculous goblet.” And in her household, she adds, “a jelly jar is always correct.”

Other sommeliers echo the sentiment with greater technical urgency. Victoria James, partner and executive beverage director at Gracious Hospitality Management, which includes U.S. and international locations of Cote Korean Steakhouse, and a panelist at this year’s Aspen Food & Wine Classic seminar Bubble & Crunch: A Champagne & Fried Chicken Marriage Made in Heaven, notes that a flute “traps the wine,” muting everything beyond the bubbles. The chalk, the brioche, the orchard fruit — gone.

Thatcher Baker‑Briggs, a California-based Burgundy and Champagne specialist, calls for eliminating flutes and coupes entirely. “[They] should really just never exist anywhere.”

The message is clear: If you want Champagne to taste like Champagne, give it room to breathe.

The only wine rule that matters

For all the rules Rodil breaks, she keeps one close: “Always chase balance. If it’s delicious and makes you want another sip, you’re doing it right.” It’s the kind of guidance that works whether you’re chilling a Nebbiolo, pouring Champagne into a white wine glass, or pairing Riesling with steak. And it’s the heart of her Aspen panel: Wine should open up new worlds, not close them. Freedom — not the rules — is what keeps people coming back to the glass.