I often wistfully read some folks’ stories of their introductions to wine and wish they were mine! So many fabulous tales of those growing up amidst the vineyards of France, perhaps Napa, or maybe Italy. Working with family in the chateau or wine caves as a youngster. Learning at the feet of some of the truly great wine giants of our times. But as I said, “I wish”.

My introduction to wine was far different and far less romantic. Actually, when I think about it, my introduction to wine was more of a stumbling block than any kind of romantic education or educated coming of age.

Why? Because my introduction to wine came plastered with the names Lonz Pink Catawba, Boone’s Farm, Ripple, Black Tower, Mad Dog 20-20, Annie Green Springs, and a few others of similar ilk. Or should I say of a similar hangover and paying homage to the porcelain god in far too many bathrooms?   Most of these ‘fine’ wines ran in the 99¢ a bottle category. Then again, when I was feeling flush or wanted to really impress a date, moved all the way to Mateus or Lancer’s so I could give them the bottle to use as a dorm room candlestick holder after the wine was gone! IIRC these retailed all the way up around $1.29.

The last time I drank any of these swills I recall it was the middle of winter in northwestern Pennsylvania. I was involved in an intense game of Capture the Flag, and with a bottle of Ripple in hand was challenging all comers to meet me waist deep in the freezing waters of a woodland creek. After that the next time I invited any alcohol into my body it was in the form of beer, a theme that followed for at least a couple of decades. My introduction to wine had imbedded in me a belief that wine was sweet, crappy, swill not worth even the 99¢ I had been paying for it, let alone the higher prices I was seeing many years later.

Then I met the most beautiful person to ever enter my life. Thanks to her I would finally begin my true wine education.

There were several pieces to my education, each offering its own unique insights and lessons.

First there was the fact my wife and her family were 100% Italian. Back as far as we have searched (and I am sure farther) her ancestors were agriculturalists in central Italy. This meant wine was an integral part of every meal other than breakfast. Growing up, my father (an alcoholic for all of my youth) was a cheap vodka and cocktails guy so this was truly a revelation to me. The only time I remember my old man buying a bottle of wine was for family gatherings when he’d grab a bottle of the cheapest, raffia-wrapped Chianti he could find in the State Store for ‘crazy aunt Edna who had to have a glass of wine’.

Thanks to my wife’s grandparents I also learned while some mass produced wines were drinkable, there was true wonderment to be found in small batch, handcrafted wines. In their case even if they were crafted in a basement in Virginia, Minnesota.

Later, in about 1983, my best half would teach me there was something very enjoyable in bottles of something called Merlot!  She brought home a bottle and opening it said to me “Leave your jacket on.  You’ll be heading back to Byerly’s to buy a case of this yet tonight.”  And I sure did!  For several years Merlot was our ‘go to’ wine for all her dinner parties and she stayed loyal to Merlot until we moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico and she began a love affair with Mexican Corona, but the label had to be in Spanish!

The best lesson she taught me about wine was that it tasted wonderful when you were curled up, next to your love, relaxing anywhere in the world!  She always said ‘snuggling, wine, and sex are the best combo in the world’.

Who was I to argue with such wisdom?

Na Zdraví!