Last weekend I ventured into the great unknown. And I’m going to anticipate my husband’s joke right now by being clear that I’m not referencing our marriage. Yes, his humor is that obvious ;-)

The unknown last Friday involved paper bags, a sharpie and some wine. That’s right; I’d headed to the local wine shop to test my vino prowess at a blind tasting. For those of you unfamiliar with the wine industry, a blind tasting is when you taste wine without any knowledge of it. You don’t know the varietal, the region, the winemaker – zilch. Your job is to figure out the answers to all those questions. Often, in a room with a lot of people who know exactly what they’re doing. Not that that’s intimidating or anything.

This was my first and I had not a clue as to how I’d perform. I mean, I’ve drunk a lot of wine in my day, but have never had to actually test my wine knowledge. There were 6 wines to taste: 2 whites and 4 reds. If you guessed the varietals of 4 or more correctly (at least we weren’t supposed to also identify the wine region – a typical test for a sommelier final exam), you won a special prize. I was just hoping to guess at least one and leave with my pride somewhat intact.

Here is a brief review of my guesses:

1 (White): Bright and dry. Refreshing and perfect for a summer’s day. Woohoo…I think I know this one! SB! (Sauvignon Blanc)
2 (White): Oaky character and a dry finish. Just about the only other white I can think of is Chardonnay, so what the hell, I’ll go with that.
3 (Red): Light and fruity, totally my favorite combo. I’m pretty sure this one’s a Pinot.
4 (Red): Hmmm. It’s red. And not a Pinot. And not a Merlot or Cab. Hmmm. Tempranillo?
5 (Red): Another hmmm. Smells like Merlot (raisins), but has a crazy loud finish with tons of tannin and a bitter (frankly, not so nice) taste. I have not an idea.
6 (Red): A big red. But not a Cab. Ahhh! What else is red and has some “umph” to it? Could it be Syrah? Definitely not a Petite Syrah…

That’s about how it went. As you might imagine, the ones I got right were the Sauvignon Blanc and the Pinot Noir. Yea, go me! The ones I got wrong were, well, everything else. Which included Pinot Gris, Sangiovese, Malbec and…OK this is sad…I can’t even remember it.

So, that’s a summation of my first foray into blind wine tasting. I have to admit, despite my not-so-stellar performance, I’m at least relieved to note that the varietals I did not guess are not a regular part of my wine repertoire. So it wasn’t for lack of noticing them – it was not knowing what to notice.

Which means, there is hope! And I dare say I might give the blind tasting thing another go around down the line. Maybe I can double my score and get a whopping 67% next time. Well, at least that would bring me from an F to a D.

It's almost been a year since I got married and, even worse than at times neglecting my "wifely duties," I have been severely lacking in the blog-posting department. I know you have been sitting on the edge of your seat, waiting ever-so patiently waiting to learn how my life has been transformed since I drank my last bottle of two-buck-chuck and severed my ties with the Trader Joe's wine department. Though it was tough, I'm pleased to report that I've discovered an even better, inexpensive substitute that beats the pants of Fred Franzia. And it's name is, Cru.

Cru is this fabulous invention that wineries developed for when, at the end of their blending process, they are left with extra wine and feel somewhat uninclined to send $100s of premier fruit down the drain. So, instead, all the left over red wine is blended together, same for the whites, resulting in two hodgepodge but still quite impressive blends that are then sold to winery staff (my apologies to the masses) at a cost of about $4-5 a bottle. As a result, I have become quite accustomed to enjoying wine that would otherwise probably net somewhere around $50+ in a typical market. While these wines do not have the masterful touch of the winemaking staff, it is certainly safe to say that they are not damn bad.

I know, woe is me, right? Ya - I must admit I'm not complaining. To make you hate me even more, I am frequently treated to some great bottles of reserve wine that are brought home at the end of my husband's long day at work. And with other friends in the industry, some amazing bottles of wine find their way into our home. Like the other night, when a friend gave us a 3 liter bottle of stags leap cabernet, simply because his winery had produced too many. Hello. Um, thank you? And we must now give you our first born, yes?

But alas, this all does come with a price. And that price is that I still feel completely in the dark when my husband has his friends over and they start "geeking-out" on wine. While I now have access to some pretty amazing stuff, I don't yet feel that I'm able to appreciate it. At least not in a way that makes me feel any less galled at the thought of purchasing an expensive bottle of wine. You see, all the good stuff we get now is free (the best kind). But ask me to spend $100+ or even $50+ on a bottle, and I would tell you you're crazy. And yet, if that's the case, we live in an area where our very livlihood is dependent upon crazy people. Lots and lots of them.

So, I'm working on trying to better understand this "craziness." And, of course, that necessitates a lot of experimentation on my part. Much wine must be consumed in this endeavor!

Ah yes, as I said, woe is me :-)

In the interest of full disclosure, I'm not yet technically a "wife," but I think dating a wino for 7 years and being engaged to him for the last two and a half brings me pretty darn close to qualifying. And in less than two months, it will be official. That is, unless we come to our senses about this whole "marriage" thing.

So I've been thinking lately about what it means to be a wife. Who will I be after I walk down the aisle? Will it change me to be a Mrs? As my fiance can attest, one of my best (while simultaneously most annoying) qualities is that I'm a pretty strong willed person. There's a part of me that relishes becoming a wife, and there's another part that makes me say, "Hey! What's up with this whole giving up my last name craziness!"

So, when the name change occurs, who will I become to the public? As my fiance works in production in the wine industry, I will for all intents and purposes become "Mrs. Winemaker" on and after my wedding day. I mean, no complaints. It could be worse. This does guarantee me wine for life (good wine at that), and that in and of itself is reason enough to get married.

So, in a nutshell, I decided to start this blog because I am having an identity crisis. And you, reader, will be my therapy. I'm planning to explore topics such as "What happens when your husband has a heart attack when you buy Two Buck Chuck?" and "How to hold your own in a conversation about wine with wine snobs who do not know that they are wine snobs." Additionally, I will chronicle my attempts to learn more about wine so that I too can discuss how the nose of a wine brings to mind burnt toast, wet dog, horse, and/or acetate. (I kid you not, these are all aromas on Ann Noble's famed wine wheel.) And, of course, as wine and food are close cousins, you may see a blog or two about a home-cooked dinner where I, for example, drink a New Zealand Sauvingon Blanc with lamb. (Gasp! Actually, to be honest, this is an area where even the winos admit that there are no strict rules.)

My goal is not to offend every wine oenophile out there (although the more serious of you might need to be reminded that my banter is intended with a wink and a smile). It's not that I don't love wine and the people that fancy it (after all, I am marrying a winemaker), it's that well, wine and the world that revolves around it can frankly be pretty intimidating. So this is my attempt to demystify that stratosphere and bring it down to earth, hopefully while keeping my sense of humor (and future marriage) intact.

So tonight I raise my glass to you, probably one of the last glasses I will ever drink of $5 Trader Joe's wine, my price point of the last 7 years. Sigh. It's been a good price point to me; one in which I can pretty much identify each bottle that won't make you swear off wine for the rest of your life. It's going to be rough, but if I must graduate to $10/bottle, I will try to do it with a smile ;-)

Cheers!