My “Wine Changed My Life” Story

In Vino, Veritas (in wine, lies truth)

Pliny, the Elder

        One of the most common anecdotes shared by wine experts and others in the wine industry is the “Wine Changed My Life” story. Podcasters often begin their interviews with wine experts by asking them to tell their audiences how they got into the wine business. This question usually leads to some form of the “Wine Changed My Life” story. Because of this, I feel somewhat obligated to explain in this opening chapter how all this wine enthusiasm began. In other words, how wine changed my life.

It would be much easier to begin this chapter by regaling you with a couple of stories how wine changed my night, rather than the ways it has changed my life. There were nights when things would have been quite different if I hadn’t drank a few bottles of wine, showed off my signature dance move (don’t ask), lied to a female bartender about the amount of money I made, offered an unsuspecting female customer a poorly constructed line about how good looking they were, and then eventually stumbled home alone and passed out. That would be a story about the real effects of wine, only on a much more limited timespan. But that’s not what these “Wine Changed My Life” stories are all about. What wine professionals are usually referring to with these stories is more cerebral, more reflective, more transformative, more life-altering shit than a few drunken indiscretions would signify. So here it goes.

When I was a little boy, my Italian grandfather, Armando Serafini, made wine from dandelions. My cousins and I were often recruited to gather fresh dandelions for making his wine from yards in the neighborhood. We had to separate the green leaves from the petals so the milky sap would not make the wine bitter. My grandfather would spend time in his basement which held a variety of contraptions and barrels and what-not, and after a period of a few weeks emerge with bottles of wine. Given my young age, I was never allowed to spend much time in that basement. I was, however, allowed to try a sip of that wine. It was sickly-sweet, and I swore off the whole wine enterprise for many years to come. He also made grappa in the cellar of that old house in Solvay, New York. My dad used to say that the best way to drink his father’s grappa was to tie yourself to a tree before drinking it, but that is another story.

Wine was a small part of my growing up because my parents only drank it from time to time. When they did, it was usually cheap plonk like, Lambrusco, Cold Duck, or Widmer’s Lake Niagara. On Sundays, my dad would take the screw top off a jug of red wine to have with his pasta. These wines were not very good and did not interest me in the least bit. When my parents entertained, it was usually highballs or beer that were served. Wine did not feature very much in my parents’ entertainment rituals.

At the age of twenty-two I saved up my tips from bartending and bought my first case of wine. It was a “greatest hits” assortment of wine, or at least that is what the guy at the Wagon Wheel Liquor Store in Durango, Colorado told me. He suggested several white wines, a few reds, a bottle of champagne, and a dessert wine. He said this would be a good place to start. Who was I to disagree? We wandered around the store as he pulled bottles from the shelves of what he called quality representations of certain varietals. I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by varietals, and the regions he mentioned seemed exotic and far away. I was overwhelmed by his vocabulary and simply nodded to look like I understood what he was referring to.

I had ventured into the store looking for some cool wine bottles to simply fill an antique wooden wine-rack I had bought at a neighborhood garage sale. At the time, it was more about decorating my new dining area (think small table, four chairs and a wine-rack) than taking an interest in wine. I wanted to impress college girls and I thought a wine-rack might make me look more sophisticated. I hid my red plastic cups under the sink and bought some cheap wine glasses. Some of the wines were good, and some, well…

At the time, I was working as a bartender for Jim (Beatle) Abshagan at the Ore House restaurant in Durango. In the 1980s, Jim had amassed what I now recognize was an amazing collection of California wines. He was truly ahead of his time as a wine collector. I remember him offering select vintages of Silver Oak, Heitz Cellar, Caymus, Robert Mondavi and other Napa cabernets at the restaurant. He also had wines from Beaujolais, Rioja, and Australia, which at the time was unusual for a steakhouse in Colorado in the early 1980s. He created a leather-bound journal filled with labels taken from his favorite wine bottles and would share the book with anyone interested in the featured wines from his cellar. At the time, the wines featured in that book only meant one thing to me; more money in my pocket. The more expensive the bottle of wine, the better my chance for a bigger tip. I presented his wine book to everyone that sat at my bar, but never really looked at it much myself.

Many years later, I started as an Assistant Professor of Literacy at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas and bought my first wine refrigerator from Costco. It held about 30 bottles and was set at a permanent 48 degrees. Too cold for the appropriate aging of wine, but it kept my limited collection of wines safe from the Las Vegas heat. I filled it with low to moderate priced wines and enjoyed my first experiences with shopping for wine on a regular basis. I took the word of a salesperson at local wine shop about what to buy and began to formulate some sense of what I liked and disliked. Chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, merlot, and zinfandel made up most of the collection.

On his way to Death Valley for a photography workshop, a good friend of mine shared a bottle of a 2000 vintage of Duckhorn cabernet sauvignon from Napa Valley. It was from the Monitor Ledge Vineyard. It was the first bottle of wine I had ever experienced that made me stop and really take notice of what was in the bottle. It was what many of the wine writers I have since read would call my “entry bottle” – the bottle that moves you to start considering wine more analytically and appreciatively. My friend said it was a powerful, perfectly balanced wine. Who was I to argue? Most of all, I remember it was delicious. It stopped me in my tracks and made me think about what was in my glass.

Ten years later, I started going to a weekly wine tasting at a local wine bar. At first, it was more about getting out and meeting people, but it quickly became more about tasting new wines. I was introduced to my first certified sommelier at AZ Wine in Carefree, AZ. Meeting Thomas Klafke (author of the foreword to this book) changed my relationship with wine. Instead of simply drinking wine for a buzz and some social companionship, I began to consciously pay attention to what was in my glass. He would explain why one wine was so different from another one, and we talked about which wines might pair well with particular dishes. Thomas was the first person that made the world of wine accessible to me. He made drinking and talking about wine thoroughly enjoyable. He humbly shared his extensive knowledge of viticulture, varietals, and winemaking. Most importantly, he made it more about what you liked than what you knew (or didn’t know). I was hooked.

I dove into the wine literature like a madman. I began taking notes about what I was drinking and reading, and subscribed to Wine Spectator, Decanter, and Wine Enthusiast magazines. I bought some wine textbooks, and started reading novels that featured vineyards, wine travel, winemakers, and adventures in the world of wines. I began closely analyzing the wines on the shelves of several wine stores in Phoenix and Scottsdale. I started to amass a sizeable collection of wine. This required the purchase of two large wine refrigerators to accommodate the growing number of bottles. I eventually joined a few wine clubs after some visits to Willamette Valley, Oregon and Napa and Sonoma California, including Duckhorn Vineyards.

During my weekly wine tasting, Thomas mentioned a wine certification he was studying for and the requirements for passing the certified exam of the Court of Master Sommeliers (CMS). He said he had no problem passing the Introductory Level, and suggested I sign up for one of the classes. He also said the next level, the Certified Level, would take a lot more studying and tasting experiences, but he was willing to get me started with blind tasting and studying what I would need to know. I was eager to accept the challenge. As a tenured, college professor it was really wonderful to play the role of student again. I had been giving exams for years, now I was about to sign up to take one.

After completing the Introductory Level class, I knew the pin and certificate I earned was only valid for three years and that I would have to get to the next level if I wanted to retain my standing as a certified sommelier from the CMS. I began to study wine in any free moments I had available. I read every textbook, blog, journal, tasting note, and magazine article I could get my hands on. I joined several blind-tasting groups and practiced serving champagne to anyone willing to sit and enjoy some bubbles. Though she enjoyed the benefits of my new obsession with wine, my wife still uses air quotes whenever she mentions my years of “wine research.” 

While studying for the Court of Master Sommeliers’ Certified Level II exam, I decided to enhance my knowledge of wine theory by studying for the Certified Specialist of Wine degree from the Society of Wine Educators before attempting the certified sommelier exam. I knew this exam contained no service or tasting requirements, so I spent time studying the basic wine knowledge I would need for the theory part of the certified sommelier exam. I bought a study guide, made about a thousand flashcards, and later that year passed the Certified Specialist of Wine exam. I was awarded my first wine pin that came with no expiration date!

To further increase my chances of passing the CMS exam, I joined a tasting group at Tarbell’s restaurant in Phoenix, Arizona and was introduced to several sommeliers in the area that were helping waiters, bartenders, sommeliers, and even old guys like me study for the Certified and Advanced Sommelier certificates. Without the support of Jason Caballeros, Mark Yeager, Troy Transow, Drew Cameron, Chris Jeffers, and Wesam Kawa I would have never stood a chance of passing the exam. They conducted blind tastings each week and drilled us on the service requirements in similar fashion to the exam setting. I loved doing this kind of “research” on Monday afternoons, then I usually went home and took a nap. I am an old guy, and obviously I need to work on my spitting technique.

That fall, it was time for the exam. Although, I had studied during every free minute I had, I was quite nervous taking the exam. I gargled German Riesling on my way to the exam to balance the acidity levels in my mouth in order to pass the tasting portion at 8:30 AM. The tasting, theory, and service portions of the exam were all conducted in the morning, and I spent a long lunch worrying about whether I had passed. At the end of the day, all certified candidates were gathered together in a large conference room and our results were revealed. Lo and behold, I passed with flying colors. Champagne and oysters for everyone!

Some friends that are part of another, more informal wine tasting group I belong to did some research on the certificate from the Wine and Spirits Education Trust (WSET) and decided they wanted to take the course and exam in Napa. They thought this would be a more relevant certificate for them, one that aligned with their wine lifestyle, especially since the exam had no service requirements. I figured any chance to study and drink wine, especially in Napa, is worthwhile so I joined in the adventure. The three of us old guys rented a house for a week in Napa, packed up our books and study notes and went to California for a week. The classes were long, but informative. On Sunday, we took the exam for the Level 3 Award in Wines from WSET. I passed the requirements for the Wine and Spirits Trust (WSET) Level 3 Award in Wines with merit, and now have as many wine certifications as I do college degrees. They are displayed with pride on the walls of my office right alongside my college diplomas.

Although there are more levels to obtain across the various certifying bodies, I have decided I have gone as far as need to support my obsessions with wine. This means no more exams, no more flashcards to memorize, and no more late nights staring at wine maps trying to memorize specific vineyards and regions. However, I still enthusiastically drink wine, talk about it with anyone interested in talking about it, go to informal blind tasting group sessions, and collect as much wine as I can afford that fits into my humble wine refrigerator. Though I no longer test myself with flashcards, I do continue to read books, magazines, and newsletters about wine regularly.

So What?

Jim Laughren said in 50 Ways to Love Wine More, “wine is like an inexhaustible font feeding our curiosity, slaking our unending thirst for knowledge and delight.” I take these words to heart as I consider the next era of my life. As a tenured Professor of Literacy Education and Children’s Literature, I have accomplished most of my professional career goals. I have authored numerous academic articles and published eleven college textbooks on literacy research and education. I have conducted seminars across the United States and given lectures on literacy education in over twenty countries around the world. 

As I approach my retirement, I have been looking for avenues to expand my dream of living the life of a Renaissance Man. As a fairly accomplished singer and guitar player, an award winning children’s author and illustrator, an avid traveler, an educational consultant, a conference speaker, an exhibited fine art photographer, a mediocre golfer and bocce ball player, and a fairly decent gardener and cook, following along in the footsteps of Michelangelo, Machiavelli, and Da Vinci seemed like a logical next step.