Very few of us, me included, actually grew up in wine-centric families. My dad loved Schlitz, so you can imagine the depth of the quality of wine that was in our house. Whenever a bottle of wine popped up, which was infrequent, it was pretty sweet and without structure. Even at 11 years of age, I was certain that the really grapey liquid in the 1-liter bottle was not very good. And if that was what wine was all about, then I would follow in my father’s footsteps and continue the family legacy of drinking Schlitz in quart bottles. So when I actually discovered wine, through a girl (no surprise there –– the other bit of good news is that I married her), I was way behind on the information curve that I perceived everyone else already had. In reality, “everyone” really did not have that much wine information, but when you have none, even the rudimentary act of opening a bottle was awkward and embarrassing. Sort of like singing a cappella: You think you are doing fine. The looks on the faces of your friends tell you otherwise.