Alcohol is a dangerous product. It should be used only by responsible, trained adults, and even then only in moderation. When mixed with motor oil, for instance, alcohol is deadly. Despite the apparently flippant attitude of this column, we treat all alcoholic beverages, wines included, with great respect and great care. Don't drink too much. Don't even think about driving when you're drinking. Don't drink if you're pregnant. If you have any neurons left after all that drinking, use a few of them to grasp these common sense ideas.
We really don't drink a lot at all. You might not guess that correctly from the tone of this column. We love good wines. We tend to have a bottle with or before dinner a couple times a week. We serve good wines at parties. We even bring good wines to parties we attend. (Hey, invite us and find out.) But getting blitzed is a thing of the past. Dim past, to be sure.
It's not that we're winos, but we have spent a number of vacations, and weekends, and day trips, and drive-throughs in various wine-producing (and consuming!) regions of the world.
Most of the time, we have been careful to record our impressions of the various wines we tasted. (Some of these that have been recovered from the historical scraps of wine-stained paper on which they were graven for posterity are included in the ratings.) You may already have guessed why we have to write them down. If not, read the stories.
Sometimes we have even been inspired to write down our impressions of the trip. In the best circumstances, this is done during the hangover and has the ring of truth. Other times, we may wait for some time, months or years, before writing our travelogue, so that the experience is filtered through the haze of distant memory rather than through the haze of alcohol.