FRASIER (CRAVE)

So he's a little pompous, annoying and snobby with a bent towards pontificating about wine and the opera — but Frasier Crane, and his germaphobe brother, Niles, have helped brighten the doldrums of the very unfunny COVID-19 pandemic for my 15-year-old daughter, Grace, and me. The '90s sitcom follows the life of a hoity-toity, sherry-loving, psychiatrist/radio advice show host who desperately tries to find love while managing relationships with his ageing blue-collar dad, Martin; Martin's dog Eddie; Martin's live-in physiotherapist, Daphne Moon; and his brother, Niles.

There's something about the relentless virus news and ever-present crushing anxiety that has made a nightly escape to Frasier's Seattle an essential, before-bed ritual.

While the show has prompted many important discussions, such as the blatant absence of people of colour and the portrayal of larger bodies — after a spell of compulsive eating, Daphne finds herself at a “fat farm” (cringe) — the episode dubbed “The Year of the Raisin” was nothing but fun. In it, Frasier tries to get wine-snob Niles out of his apartment by telling him that a local shop is running out of the expensive 1982 Chambolle-Musigny. (The 1934 edition happens to retail at the LCBO for $477.) Niles realizes the trick: “In '82 there was a drought in Bourgogne,” he says. “The locals dubbed it The Year of the Raisin.”

Though horribly offensive to the innocent dried fruit, the phrase does spark some resemblance to a year that has sucked like no other. The raisin is dry — a mere shell of the juiciness of the grape it once was. Raisins are also about 60 per cent sugar, and pack an unhealthy punch of calories and fibre: think cramps, gas and bloating. The ugly wrinkled fruit is also considered a choking hazard for small children, and anyone with a dog is familiar with sniffing a “raisin” that found its way suspiciously onto the sofa. But most important, every grape made into a raisin is one less for a glass of wine. 2021 didn't come soon enough.

NBC