One evening shortly before my 21st birthday, a Minnesota friend looked at me and said, “You’re going to be a wine person.” I laughed at the time, thinking that sounded ridiculous, but the comment stayed with me. I did drink some wine that year, typically Boone’s Farm Sangria, but mostly I finally indulged in the daquiris and mudslides I’d seen friends enjoying (and at least 1 Zima with a lime Jolly Rancher. It was 1996). Then one day I tried this wine that was labelled a White Merlot. White Zinfandel was well-known and was celebrated and derided in enough popular culture for me to be aware of it, but I had never heard of this. It became my go-to for a while, being tasty enough that this die-hard Coca Cola drinker liked the taste without it being too sweet or perfume-y. Time went on, and grad school brought chances to try other wines at openings and events. Boxed Pinot Grigio was reliable, so I started ordering this when I was somewhere fancy, like a restaurant that served wine. I knew I didn’t like Chardonnay, and red wine just didn’t seem all that good, but it was always fun to try.
Some time in my early years working at American Player’s Theatre for the summers, a patron had donated a number of bottles of Zinfandel for opening nights. Finally a chance to taste the wine that made all of the slightly sweet White Zin people made fun of! It would have to be something that even a non-red wine drinker would like! WRONG. That particular wine was probably being served a little warmer than intended (did I mention that APT is an outdoor theatre? It was high summer at the time), and Zinfandel can be quite a mouthful. I was so grossed-out that it led to my most enduring wine aversion (I happily consume Zinfandel now, but it is rarely my go-to unless I find an intriguing specimen from Italy [Primitivo] or California).
Wine Nerd (in progress) 