It wasn’t a milestone birthday, I was only turning 22, but that August, all those years ago was a large summer in my life. I had just finished my undergraduate degree and was packing my bags and heading out to begin my graduate studies. The wine arrived as a birthday gift from my well-traveled aunt and uncle who’d spent many happy days cycling through the country roads of France; peddling their way from vineyard to vineyard. That bottle carried more than just wine and was more than simply a birthday gift. Like christening a boat on its maiden voyage, that bottle ushered me into my next great adventure and affected me in ways which took years to unfold.

I remember that August day with the same clarity for which I know what I had for breakfast this morning. The late summer evening sun poured through the kitchen window and danced across the honey coloured dining table. I held the bottle, examining it as if it were a rare archeological find. Being a young and inexperienced drinker, it was the academic, the historian, the folklorist in me who was first attracted to the puzzling and meticulously detailed label. I had no trouble reading the French description, but could not decipher the language of AOCs, grape varieties and bottling details.

My uncle insisted we open it immediately. The act of drinking together and imparting his love and knowledge of wine was as much a part of my gift as the contents in the bottle. Feeling this bottle and this moment called for grandeur, I fetched my mother’s best wine glasses- Waterford Crystal- which were rarely used and saved for the kind of formal company that would never come. I remember watching in silence as the ceremony unfolded; my uncle peeling away the foil, pulling the garnet stained cork from the bottle and giving it a moment- not too long- to ‘breathe’. This wine doesn’t require much time, he said, but others do. This ensued a brief explanation of how some grape varieties are affected by age more than others. He then poured us each a glass. My youthful zeal was eager to take a big gulp, but my uncle stopped me. He cautioned that wine should be intentionally tasted, not mindlessly drunk. We then discussed how one should allow wine to coat the inside of your mouth to feel its full effect, and what flavour profile could be expected. I immediately felt ushered into a special club which few were granted access. I felt I had learned so much from that one glass. I felt important.

It was an experience I never forgot and it came at a time in my life when I was looking to be amazed and looking to carve out a path for myself. After that experience, life went on, I pursued my graduate studies abroad, started my career path, and never thought much more about the magic of that moment. It would be many more years before the effects of that day would come to light. I began to enjoy wine, and then to love wine. Wine didn’t come to me as alcohol, wine came to me as ceremony, history, culture.

My love of wine led me to meet interesting people, study culture and place, work in the industry, sample incredible bottles, maintain my academic roots in history and folklore, and continue my love of travel and languages.

Was the wine really that good on that late August evening all those years ago? Does it matter? It stirred something in me, connecting me to something great, something old and something important that has stayed with me ever since.

– Sarah