I’m not a connoisseur. I’m not an expert.

I am an enthusiast.

Growing up, I was been captivated by eating and drinking, and, by default, ingredients and cooking. In the most enlightened cultures, countries and households wine belongs on the table as an irreplaceable part of a meal. It is essential, like bread, potatoes or salt, and this is the basis of how I understand wine.

For me, wine falls on the Venn diagram of sociology and psychology. It has a place. It elicits and captivates; comforts and compliments. It brings people together, amplifies social interaction, and gives an experience. In a world which seemingly is spinning faster and faster wine and its familiarity causes us to reflect, slow-down, and enjoy. Wine is art. Wine is food. Wine is philosophy. Wine is poetry. Wine is endlessly engaging.

I believe that all wines have their role. I, however, seek to not focus on the pedestal wines whose earned nobility is revered and endeavored to be replicated. I opt to pursue the humble mediums; the bottle shared on a Wednesday evening with a loved one, the bottle placed in a wine rack with every intent on drinking it in the weeks to come. There is artistry in consistency, in every day.

Wine should not simply be tied to a phrase, a smell, or flavor –its experience is much greater and interesting than that. Wine, if we let it, becomes the connective tissue to our familiarity and experiences; the barometer to each other.

Wine, most certainly, deserves a seat at our dinner table.