Love for wine so much more than taste

Happy New Year, everyone! It is a time for remembrance, reflection — and even repentance (you know who you are). But for most, it is a time for renewal.

After all, there is a brand new vintage ahead of us. And we are here to watch it slowly unfold. Pretty cool. You just have to love the possibilities that the future holds. Although, I do admit, it is sometimes hard to say goodbye to the past.

I guess that is why people "collect" things. It is a way to keep track of history and put together our own timeline, via some product for which we have a passion. Some collect coins and stamps. Others collect baseball caps and expensive convertible sports cars. I collect wine.

At first, it wasn't for the taste of wine. I didn't like it. My beverage of choice was always a glass of cold milk with dinner. My parents allowed me to taste wine, but it was a waste of my time. I collected little glass animals.

Then I went to Europe where wine is served with every meal. I still didn't like it. But I loved the conversations that surrounded the wine: where the wine was made; the description of the region; the integrity and character of the winemaker who made it; the different flavor nuances of that grape; the value of the particular vineyard from which it came; the weather patterns that shaped that great vintage; the memory of the first bottle ever tasted.

Every new bottle that my French family opened was a lesson in geography, history, sociology and art. Hmmm. My favorite subjects.

Soon, I was tasting just a little of each bottle. The wine tasted 10 times better when served with tasty French cuisine, and vice versa. I also noticed that the wine tasted much different depending on the food with which it was served. I was 17 years old.

Some of the young adults drank wine, but never a lot. It seemed like the wine was on the table just to help season the food. There was a great respect for that beverage. I found myself spending more time admiring it in the glass than I did swilling it. The stuff was just pretty to look at.

Then, I visited my grandparents in Normandy. My French papa spent the weekend bottling wine, and guess who got to assist? Papa had purchased the wine in big oak barrels at three francs per liter, which he described as "a steal." One barrel was from a place called Bordeaux. The other barrel he just called a Côtes du Rhone. In my diary, I drew a picture of the two different bottles that we used. The Bordeaux bottle had big square shoulders. The Rhone had softer sloped shoulders. Papa said it had something to do with "tradition."

Both wines were red. We spent hours in that cellar, filling, corking and labeling all of those bottles. Finally, we re-joined the rest of the family on Sunday evening for a rustic meal of roasted chicken and sautéed fresh garden veggies, followed by a beautiful platter of tangy goat cheeses. We drank a little Bordeaux. We drank a little Rhone. I was mesmerized by those two wines. They were both so different, and both so delicious in their own way.

In my diary that night, I wrote: "Note to self: I think I like wine." Then, I had the best night's sleep I will ever remember. Mama said it was the goat cheese.

Upon returning to the States, that 2 percent from the local dairy was no longer my top-rated dinner quaff. In the many years since then, I have become a wine collector.

Yes, I do love to drink wine, but it is much more than that. Every bottle has a story. It is one of the few agricultural products on earth that can actually capture a moment in time and preserve it for you to enjoy at a later date.

I often think about what was happening in the world as those grapes were growing. I love going into my cellar and looking at the bottles. I rearrange them according to date, sometimes to country, or even to grape. I research every bottle to learn a little more about the family that created that wine — their ancestry, their passions, their philosophy of life. Even the pets that they own!

Every bottle reminds me of someone or something: the person that introduced me to that wine; the food that I ate with that wine; the friendships that resulted from that wine. For the wines that I have not yet tried, I look forward to the creation of all of the aforementioned.

I love re-living history via my 10-year accumulation of Wine Spectator magazines. I never pass up the chance to add a new corkscrew to my collection. I would be thrilled to receive the gift of a rock, if it was from a famous wine vineyard.

So you see, wine is way more than just a beverage to me. There will be much to talk about this coming year, from the clean minerality of the Mosel Riesling to the jammy fruit richness of the Barossa Shiraz. We can expect great things from Mother Nature, along with the usual surprises. I look forward to enjoying every moment with all of you. Cheers!