If you think a screw cap isn't all that classy, check out the "crown cap" that gives this modest Austrian white a beer-bottle look.

Is ritual necessary?

For many of the wine enthusiasts who have already embraced the once-maligned metal screw cap as an appropriate seal for fine wines, its casual simplicity is part of the appeal of the alternative closure. Unscrew the cap, pour the wine; no muss, no fuss, and best of all, no snob factor.

But wine lovers who enjoy the brief ritual that attends the extraction of the traditional cork feel that there's something missing in a quick, careless unscrewing. Indeed, for restaurant sommeliers, who make a living out of mastering wine minutiae, an opening procedure devoid of ritual could be a professional threat.

No worries, mate ... those crafty sommeliers Down Under have already come up with a nifty little uncapping scheme that's sufficiently tongue-in-cheek to elicit more of a smile than a snobby sneer.

The procedure is simple, much easier to master than the dreaded corkscrew: Grasp the cap firmly with one hand, and gently rotate the bottle under it with the other, breaking the seal with an audible, satisfying "crack." Then place the loosened cap against your forearm (tuxedo optional) and roll it down toward your hand, timing the move so the cap comes off just as the bottle rolls into your palm. Present the cap with a flourish if you wish. There's no need to sniff it, but you're welcome to do so if it pleases you.

Is this ritual necessary? Of course not! Is it fun? I think so, although the answer to that question may depend on your sense of humor. The Aussie wine geeks who first told me about it thought it hilarious, and claimed it was an Australian invention, although my Kiwi wine pal Sue Courtney (http://www.wineoftheweek.com/) insists that it came originally from New Zealand, in a video produced by the good folks at Villa Maria when they went over to the alternative closure years ago. One thing's certain: The idea almost had to come from Down Under, where producers in both countries have led the charge toward screw cap closures for wines of quality.

Meanwhile, if you think the screw cap is declassé, I expect you'll be horrified by the closure on today's tasting, a modest but surprisingly fetching Austrian Grüner Veltliner from H. und M. Hofer, packaged in a stubby green jug that looks almost like a beer bottle, and closed with a beer-style "crown cap" that submits to neither corkscrew nor uncapping twist but the humble "church key."