If in many American states it is perfectly normal to put a bottle of Chardonnay between whole grains and almond milk, in the state of New York that daily gesture takes on a legal aftertaste. Not dramatic, of course. But regulated yes. Here the wine does not live under the lights to the neon of the great distribution: it lives in a parallel universe made of discreet signs, bells on the door and shelves told in voice.
But the question remains irresistible: why don’t you sell wine in New York at the supermarket? The short answer is normative. That long is a small American novel made of Prohibitionism, political compromises and protection of small business.
In 1933, with the 21st Amendment, the United States officially archives the season of prohibition and gives individual states the power to regulate alcohol. This is where the great American normative mosaic is born: 50 different approaches, 50 different philosophies, 50 ways of deciding where to live a bottle.
New York chooses a restraining and structured model. In the New York system, wine and super-alcoholics can only be sold in “off-premise” liquor stores. Supermarkets can sell beer and cider. Wine, no. And it’s not just a matter of shelves. It’s a matter of legal architecture. In New York, in general, a person may hold only one retail license. Translated: the great chains of the GDO cannot dispose of wine shops integrated under the same brand with the same ease with which biological departments open. It is a structural barrier that in fact keeps the market fragmented.
For example, in California, home to Napa and Sonoma, wine at the supermarket is not a taboo but a logical consequence. Wine, beer and spirits live between avocado and kombucha. The sacredness, if there is, does not depend on the physical placement but on the quality of the bottle. The market is open, competitive, integrated.
In Texas, the situation is a regulated pragmatism exercise. Wine is sold in supermarkets. No spirits: those remain confined to the liquor store. There are still “dry” and “wet” counties, a more severe legacy, but the average consumer can buy a bottle along with the barbecue sauce without having to change parking.
In Florida, the approach is as solar as the climate. Wine and beer are available in supermarkets; spirits must be in a separate but often adjacent space. Here the bottle is a good of fluid, tourist, dynamic consumption. More flip-flops for everyone and less rules.
In New York, the bottle remains distinct. Not sacred, but separate. It is important to clarify: the law does not explicitly say “we protect small wine shops”. There is no official statement with this slogan engraved above. The structure of the system with licensing limits, ban on supermarkets and property control has an obvious effect: it favors an independent retailer ecosystem.
And that ecosystem really exists. The city is dotted with neighborhood wine shops, natural wine boutiques in Brooklyn, tiny Burgundians in Manhattan, shops that look like rare libraries more than stores. The supermarket works on volumes and on compressed margins; the wine shop works on selection, advice, conversation. If the wine entered massively into the GDO, the competitive soil would change radically.
Consummation for the consumer? Maybe. Indirect protection of the small entrepreneur? In fact, yes.
In California and Florida the wine is integrated into everyday shopping: it is next to organic strawberries and eco-friendly detergents without anyone posing existential dilemmas. In New York, however, buying wine implies a micro-deviation. A dedicated stage. A separate gesture. It is not a sacrament. But it’s a signal.
The New York system reflects an idea of careful control and regulation, historical heritage of a country that has known the extreme opposite: the absolute ban. It is a structure that holds together institutional prudence and commercial fragmentation. And so the bottle becomes a cultural question disguised as an administrative norm: is it good like another? Or is it a sector that deserves its own lane? For now, in the state of New York, the answer is clear: wine does not live near cereals or cream cheese.
It is important to remember that in the American normative labyrinth nothing is immutable. One day it could appear between the bio and the gluten-free department. And then the debate will turn on more than a 15% Cabernet.
L’articolo In New York the wine does not do the shopping proviene da IlNewyorkese.
