Talk about a ghost of Christmas past. That was my first thought when I went into the cellar to pull out a bottle of red to go along with our take-out pizza the other night. This Christmas apparition, a 1996 Sterling Merlot, was still dressed in the gold ribbon it wore when it arrived at Club Loco back in the late 90s. It was dustier than I remembered.

Over the past decade, I’ve often thought of Merlot as a wine cliche, much like White Zinfandel was to the 80s. Like aphids among the vines, bottles of Merlot started to pop up everywhere. They appeared at weddings and restaurants and especially at our house during dinner parties and holidays as they arrived with guests eager to spread good cheer. Where there’s a party, there’s Merlot.

Eager to jump on the wine train, I poured and drank, and poured again. This went on for years. I just didn’t like it and I gave up. You can lead a girl to the tasting room but you can’t make her drink.

I tried to figure out what the big attraction was. I was left with the belief that it had to be the cool name. After all, it really sounds chic to say, “I’ll have a glass of Merlot.” Leaving that “t” off of the end makes the coolness official combined with the fact that Cabernet Sauvignon is a bit difficult to roll off your tongue after you’ve had a few glasses of it.

As a result, years have passed since my last taste of Merlot. That is, until this past Saturday night rolled around. You see, I really hate to go against the grape. In addition to my conformist tendencies, I have embarked on a recent journey to revisit wine that I have decided I don’t like. After all, tastes change, right? I was off to test the vintage.

Back to the 96 Sterling Merlot. I grabbed my favorite bottle opener and attempted to open it up. The cork broke. The first aphid in the grape pulp. With some assistance, I was able to remove the cork without any further incident and the wine made it into my favorite, stemless tasting glass.

If you look carefully, you can see the “ghost” in the wine.

I sniffed and swirled. Not bad. I liked the color, a deep garnet. The aroma was earthy and rich with a small bite but nothing discouraging.

I tasted. Better yet. I was greeted by a spicy and flavorful wine that had plenty of fruit and a punch of cedar. Ok. It was downright pleasant.

I’m not going to whine over spilt Merlot and will stand by my assessments of the other Merlots I have tried. They do pale in comparison to the 96 Sterling. As a result, I now find myself with even more of a dilemma.

Do I like Merlot after all? Is my new found affection exclusive to the 14- year-old bottle from Sterling Vineyards? I guess only time will tell. In the mean time, I will, once again, take my hat off to Sterling Vineyards. You really knocked this Merlot out of the Valley.

A few weeks ago, while planning my holiday posts for the Loco Diner, I decided to write a story about The Unwinder, a drink made of a dry, Italian red wine, poured over ice and mixed with 7up. This drink has been part of my family for as long as I can remember and, from what I understand, as long as my dad can remember as well.

My grandfather, an Italian man who resembled Uncle Junior from The Sopranos, would make the drink using wine that was usually homemade by someone in the family and stored in jugs in the basement. For this reason, my dad still insists that the wine used for this drink pours from a “jug.”

It is worth noting that I planned this story before my invitation to become a member of the WTTV family and hadn’t given much thought to it until I sat down to write. All at once, I realized that WineTimeTV.net is a popular stop for the wine enthusiast and for this reason, this story almost didn’t happen. Could I really pitch an $8 jug of Italian red mixed with 7up to wine aficionados and keep my dignity?

It was a real “why am I here?” moment and I decided to take a break and think about it for a while.

While talking to a friend, a fellow Italian, about my dilemma, the Italian Spritzer came up in conversation. I was speechless when I found out that my friend’s “Italian Spritzer” was jug wine mixed with 7up. I had never heard of another family who drank this concoction.

I immediately emailed a few of my friends who grew up with similar Italian backgrounds asking them if they heard of this drink. Many of them had. So far, I have traced our Unwinder from Philadelphia neighborhoods to Camden and Runnemede in New Jersey, to Brooklyn and Long Island in New York all the way to the Abruzzo region of Italy.
The stories are all strikingly similar. Here is a sampling of the responses:

“My dad grew up in Camden in the 30′s and 40s…It was red wine, the type they sell in the liquor store with the screw cap.”

“It was common in South Philly. Usually an extremely dry red, often homemade.”

“I remember my grandmother in New Jersey making this drink.”

“My cousins and I all drank 7up and wine. We didn’t have any name for it other than wine and 7up. It was something like ‘vino e 7up.’ We always used homemade wine…All of my family is from the Abruzzo region of Italy. I think my cousins in Italy may have drunk it there too. In other words, I don’t think it originated with the Italian-Americans here.”

For those of you who are now dying to mix one up, here’s how:

The Unwinder
Fill a tall glass with ice.
Fill the glass half way with a dry Italian jug wine
Top off with 7up
Stir with a spoon.

With this connection to friends and family, I have a new found appreciation of my family’s most noted drink and for the culture in which I grew up. I also realize why I am listed with the sommelier and the adventure writer. I am the voice from the neighborhood, maybe quieter or more traditional, but still here with something to say.

In a few weeks, I’ll walk into my parent’s house for our traditional Christmas Eve fish dinner and my dad will say, “Hey, Buddy, do you want an Unwinder?” The answer, of course, will be yes and I can’t wait.

From my neighborhood to yours, happy holidays.

Secrets. We all have them.

I’m about to share some of my wine secrets. These are not secrets about my wine expertise. I have none. I am inspired to talk about this by a current discussion over at the Wine Whore’s blog. Don’t worry, he won’t get mad. He chose that name.

The discussion topic comes from a recent study that finds that people are more likely to enjoy a wine if a wine expert reviews it favorably.

I don’t buy it. In my humble, non-expert opinion, I think it’s 6th grade all over again. We all see it in our daily lives. For example, does anyone think Ugg boots look good? Of course not!

I have two pair. They’re comfortable, ok?

As far as wine goes, I no longer waste my time drinking wine I don’t like. On a vacation to Napa, one vineyard’s wine expert made a great proclamation that I have carried with me ever since.

There are two kinds of wines: Wines you like and wines you don’t like.

Since my humble beginnings as a Wine Nerd, I’ve taken this advice. Over the years, I learned that I dislike white wine and recently set white wine aside entirely. I have evolved into a full-bodied, red girl. And don’t go reading too much into that statement.

While I make this assertion, I am guilty of a few indiscretions.

The Wine Whore correctly and delicately pointed out to me that some people may use the wine scores because they don’t know how to select a good wine. I think this is more of the same issue: back to the 6th grade. Like pretending to get the joke when you don’t, people want to look knowledgable about wine when they’re not. They are afraid to admit that they don’t know which wine to serve at dinner and have to feign knowledge like a kid who doesn’t know the difference between Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner.

I am that kid sometimes. The wine nerd, who, I am sad to say, still has insecurities about my ability to choose a good wine. I’ve resorted to eavesdropping at wine stores which has turned out not to be the best of ideas. I also try to discreetly take note of the labels on the bottles other diners are enjoying at our favorite BYO. It brings new meaning to the term wine thief. I do this with books titles at the beach too. I freely admit to being a book snob but that’s a topic for another time.

Now my wine secrets are out and I feel better about them. In sum, the only advice I can give you is to stop keeping secrets. Be bold, ask questions and allow yourself to make mistakes when choosing wines. That’s how I became a proud wine nerd instead of a pretentious wine snob.