A couple of nights ago, Nena and I opened a bottle of Vineyard 48 North Fork Red, a non-vintage blend of 50% percent merlot, 25% cabernet franc and 25% Cabernet Sauvignon. We’d drank it before and just wanted a simple red to sip with whatever we were eating. Plus, I just wasn’t in the mood to take notes that night.

Anyway, we popped it open and the color seemed a little off…a little brown tinge here…an oxidized look there…but it tasted much as we remembered it the first time, pleasant and in the "pizza red" range. We were content.

We ate our dinners, sipping along. And, finishing our meals, we started to clean up, leaving half a glass or so in our glasses and about half a bottle sitting our our table as we did so.

And then something new, strange and terrifying happened…

An hour or so later, what was a good wine (okay, mediocre wine) was absolutely horrid. Had I lost my mind? (or worse, my palate?)

Nope. Without me saying anything, Nena sipped her glass again and said something along the lines of "what happened? this is awful!"

This is why I love wine. How can I say that after sipping such spoiled slop? Simple…you experience something different each and every time you drink wine. You’ve got to love it.

I don’t know for certain, but I’m assuming that this wine was, in fact, fairly oxidized when we opened it…and we caught it just on the back end of drinkability…and not long after it fell off the cliff.

Interesting, no?