I’m WineN00b; and you, wine, intimidate me.

The fine mix of artistry, chemistry, agriculture, biology and snobbery that goes into wine is enough to make this writer’s head swim. I like art, but I don’t usually sniff it loudly, swish it about in my mouth, spit it out and proclaim it “too sweet.” I appreciate chemistry, but I could barely understand what catalyzed what when I had to be graded on it back in school. Agriculture? I like eating vegetation and the cows that feed on it. In my little world, biology is what drives me to mate. And snobbery is, honestly, something I tend to associate with people having their noses high up in the air when they’re not snorting a glass of wine, cheeses with eight syllables in their names, and just the entire yuppie-seeming world of wine. Especially red wine. (Evil, pants-staining bastard.) I don’t even like the taste of wine; give me a fun beer or a great liquor, and I’m a happy, happy person.

The ultimate cosmic irony is that I’ve recently started working at a wine bar.

In order to do well at my job and help guests who come into the bar, I have to eventually know what I’m selling. That all sounds fine and dandy until you realize just what kind of vernacular is used to describe a wine’s taste: berry, cassis (what the $%*@ is “cassis,” anyway?), currant, dry, tannins, sweet, cinnamon, chocolate (what the crap is chocolate doing in wine, I ask you?), or leather. Yes, LEATHER was a word I saw used as a descriptor for the aftertaste of a wine we sell.

OK, vintners; now I know you’re just trying to confuse me to the point where my brains start dribbling out of my ears while I sit in the corner drooling a little. But goshdarnit, I am going to learn about wines. Heck, I might even start tasting them and trying to figure out what flavors I can actually pick out (while I’m busy gagging at the general taste of wine).

Oh, it’s on.