My wine journey began at 16 one Saturday afternoon in the garden with a pint of my parent’s home made peapod otherwise known at the time as “Mad Dog”. The wine stayed with me only briefly, and I won’t attempt to describe the myriad of senses and flavours that were involved. Fortunately my first experience was not a harbinger of wines to come.

Since then I’ve managed to drink many wines, mostly with better flavors than the first. But after all of these years and wines, I have still feel a bit uncomfortable expressing how I felt about a particular bottle, especially after hearing people describe the same wine as “flowing with chocolate and cinnamon, intermixed with blah, blah, blah”.

Perhaps my palate died on the lawn. In any case, I’ll leave the lengthy descriptions to those with better imaginations than me and stick with more elegant descriptions like “it’s nice” or “not bad”

BTW Beer is better!