Where did the year go? Seriously. I want to know. Somehow, in the last 12 months, I have managed to gain weight, lose hair, win dares, lose bets, find peace and lose my mind. All of this while tasting more than a thousand samples of wine. Some good. Some not so good. But every wine that I, well, actually we (my spouse and co-author graciously tagged along for many of the palate-centric experiences), tasted provided a frame of reference for other wines and expanded our thirst for knowledge.

The good news is tasting all of those wines has actually helped me hone my own ever-changing palate and discover what it is that I love — and hate — about wine. And, as I do every time this year, I vow to drink, as oppose to “taste,” better wines. But it’s not as easy as one might think. Occasionally the wine sample queue gets a bit long, so I find myself getting into a routine of taste-swish-spit-rinse-write, taste-swish-spit-rinse-write. So it is understandable that I sometimes forget to literally stop and smell the Flowers (love their Camp Meeting Ridge chardonnay).