I’ve loved wine since my early 20s, when most of my peers were guzzling vodka sodas. I dove head first into it during college, and got a total kick out of being in wine country. I went to school in California, and so my friends and I took advantage of our Spring Breaks to explore wine country in some of the lesser known areas (at the time). We roamed around Paso Robles and the surrounding vineyards, tasting all the heavy zins and rich cabs. None of us knew what we were doing, but the fun of exploring and experiencing for the first time was enough.
As I grew into my glass (ha!), I started trying all sorts of new wines and wines from around the world. Such an adventure! Then I had the chance to take courses on wine tasting while living in London – Yes please! Training with sommeliers and high-end restaurant workers helped me hone my pallet, and learn how to have a conversation about wine without cracking jokes. Wonderful memories remain of how I would head out to London Bridge via tube after work, and join my course tasting wines and dissecting the various layers.
10 years later….
I still absolutely love wine. My husband has started to love wine, after being a staunch whiskey and beer guy for most of his life. However, wine in your 40s is…different.
I have over 200 bottles from my favorite local wineries, many of which have been crammed into my newly purchased wine fridge in our basement. I keep getting shipments, while not drinking nearly enough of them. Have I lost my taste for them? Have I forgotten the simple joy of sharing a glass with family and friends?
No. I am just over 40 now and wine gives me a headache.
I still enjoy my nights out with girlfriends and date nights with the hubby. What I cannot fathom now however is meeting up for drinks on a Tuesday with co-workers, downing bottles of red while lamenting our jobs, then going home after 11pm and waking in the morning to jump on my bike and ride into work. My head (and stomach) hurts just thinking of the dehydration alone.
So, alas, I got old. I now enjoy wines with my family and friends on the weekends, savoring the layers and artistic expression that makes it so beautiful. Fully expecting that I will have to down a bucket of water before going to bed, and not do anything in the morning before 10am. Ugh.
It doesn’t take the joy out of it though. In some ways, I appreciate it more for it’s rarity. It does mean that I have WAY too many bottles of very good wine, pining away in my basement.
I guess there are worse problems to have.
mumura 