I can't make wine simple. But I can make it fun and beautiful, instead of esoteric and intimidating. The minute you realize it's OK to stumble along like the rest of us, asking questions and paying attention to your own reactions, then you'll begin what I hope will be a lifelong love affair with wine.

If Dracula would be happy there, so will your wine.

Wine is for sharing. What's the fun of swirling, swishing, sloshing and yakking if my friends can't join in?

I can't make wine simple. But I can make it fun and beautiful, instead of esoteric and intimidating. The minute you realize it's OK to stumble along like the rest of us, asking questions and paying attention to your own reactions, then you'll begin what I hope will be a lifelong love affair with wine.

Beer is prose. Wine is poetry.

Wine lovers all speak of their First Time, a quasi-spiritual moment of awakening to wine's wonderment. After that, it's a life sentence. I've seen it happen to even the most confirmed beer sluggers.

Some eschew wine for their religion; others just don't cotton to it. A slew of Americans consider wine a fancy-schmancy treat for special occasions. They do not understand the concept of daily wine. It's as though you insisted on confetti and a swing-band at every meal.