Food Gal’s First Contest: Whine, Wine, and Thine
Wine Story #1:
I remember my first taste of wine. It was not a good one.
It occurred when I was not yet even in my teens. I was visiting my Uncle Harry in San Francisco’s Chinatown. I was feeling parched, so I rummaged around in the refrigerator for something cool to drink.
I spied a bottle of Welch’s Grape Juice, and poured myself a big glass. I eagerly took a gulp. Then, I nearly gagged.
This was definitely not grape juice, as I spat it out in the sink, and poured the remainder down the drain.
I later learned it was jug red wine my uncle had poured into the container instead.
Needless to say, I never drank anything out of that refrigerator again.
Wine Story #2:
I remember my first taste of wine that I loved.
I was not yet 21. (Shhh, don’t tell.) I was still in high school when my best friend and I decided to celebrate our birthdays together by going out to a French restaurant by ourselves. Yes, when you grow up in food-centric San Francisco, this was not uncommon for teens to do.
It was an old-school French restaurant on Geary Street, the kind where they served little bowls of pate with cornichons at the start, and flaming Crepes Suzette at the end.
Our waitress was an older French woman who was as kind as can be. When she heard we were celebrating our birthdays, she said we must have wine with dinner. My friend and I looked at each other anxiously, knowing full well we weren’t 21. We knew the waitress had to know, too. Still, she insisted. She told us there was a particular wine she knew we would enjoy. She raced off to get it.
She opened the bottle, and poured us two glasses. It was a blush pink wine, a rose that was fruity and sweet. We both smiled when we took our first sip. And our server grinned, too, at our delighted response.
I’m almost afraid to tell people nowadays what the wine was that I first fell so hard for.
