Indeed, there are fortunates who developed their wine knowledge traveling with their families in Europe, their tastebuds sensing the circumflex in Côte de Beaune by the time they turned seventeen. More likely there are more families like mine, where I can't remember my dad drinking wine at all (perfect Rob Roys were his potent potable), and my mom, a Manhattan gal, had some large format generic Chardonnay opened for ages in the fridge for fish dinners.
Want to read the rest then do so at the KCET blog.
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