Homo sapiens are complex beings. We like to think that we know what we like, and then we change our minds and make choices that surprise us. Take wine for example. For years, I had an aversion to drinking  any type of sweet wine. But I  know that was  the result of too many traumatic youthful experiences with sugary, high-octane liquids pretending to be wine. And then, low and behold, I had the occasion to sip a late harvest riesling with dessert at a fancy restaurant and I realized that sweet wines, in moderation, can be truly enjoyable.

Yin and yang,  ebb and flow, hot and cold:  seemingly incongruous terms that oftentimes can complement each other. How about sweet and sour? “Agrodolce” (Ag-row-dole-chee) is a sweet and sour sauce that is featured in many Italian recipes to enhance meat and fish dishes. Today’s menu showcases a rendition of agrodolce that combines its sweet and sour components to enhance the delectable flavor of roasted pork.

Discovering the symbiotic relationship between wine and food is one of life’s exquisite pleasures. While I’ve always enjoyed eating, I was not always a fan of wine. As a matter of fact, it took me several years to realize that wine could be more than just an inferior substitute for beer or hundred proof vodka. It wasn’t until after I returned from an all-expense paid tour of southeast Asia (courtesy of the US Army) that my plebian palate experienced the alluring, complex and addicting characteristics of wine.

At that time, I was pursuing a graduate degree at WVU, and my wife and I were celebrating a special occasion at the Montmartre – Morgantown’s fanciest restaurant of the day located in the basement of the Hotel Morgan. I had ordered a beer to accompany my filet of beef, but the waiter suggested a glass of red wine instead. I was about to decline until he said that if I didn’t like the wine, I wouldn’t have to pay for it.  I accepted his offer, fully expecting to be disappointed. I was not. The wine by itself was tasty, but in combination with my steak, the dining experience was sublime. That epiphany changed the way I thought about wine – and food. As a result, I’ve been on a life-long mission to find and experience exceptional food and wine pairings.

I’m issuing a critically important alert to folks who share my gender: Valentine’s Day is fast approaching, and you better be ready!

Men, believe me when I say that special person in your life takes this annual holiday VERY seriously. I learned this the hard way several years ago when I arrived home from work one day to find the house dimly lit with candlelight, and the rooms suffused with heavenly aromas of freshly baked bread. On the dining room table was a carafe of red wine, a rose in a vase with a Hallmark card the size of an aardvark leaning against it. Could I have entered the wrong home? Was I in a parallel universe?

I recently visited California and the vineyard that annually provides the grapes I use to make homemade wine. For the last five years, the quality of those wines has far exceeded anything I’ve ever made before, and I wanted to meet the people that grow the grapes. The Lanza family vineyards are in Solano County just a quick 30- minute drive east of the Napa Valley. More specifically, the Lanza property is located in the Suisun (pronounced Sue-Soon) Valley.

I met with Ron Lanza, the oldest of four brothers, that manage the business, and who have sold their grapes for decades to some of the most prestigious wineries in northern California such as Caymus. In fact, because of the quality of the grapes in the Suisun Valley, Caymus built a tasting facility adjacent to the Lanza vineyards. The Lanza’s also have their own winery, Wooden Valley, and four generations of the family have been making wines there for 90 years. The wines are only available for sale at the tasting room, or through their online tasting clubs. If you’re interested, you can go to their website at: woodenvalley.com. Their wines are uniformly excellent.

Every autumn, just before Thanksgiving, Wine Spectator Magazine releases its “Top 100” wines of the year. This year the bottle chosen as the best wine of 2023 comes from Italy. It’s the 2018 Argiano Brunello Di Montalcino that retails for $90 a bottle. The Argiano was one of 9200 wines blind-tasted and rated by the editors of the magazine. Of those 9200, 5819 bottles were rated 90 or better on the magazine’s one hundred 100-point scale, and from those wines the top 100 were selected. You can check out the entire list in the current issue of Wine Spectator.

In looking over the selections, I was pleased to see that there are 44 wines in the top 100 that cost $30 a bottle or less. The wine rated number 31 (2022 Joel Gott Sauvignon Blanc) was the least expensive bottle on the list and is priced at $12 a bottle. The most expensive wine is a Napa Valley red blend (2020 Cathiard Family Estate) rated number 98 and going for $225 a bottle.

When I first started writing about wine for the Charleston newspapers a few decades ago, my goal was to educate folks that wine should be an everyday accompaniment to meals.

Unfortunately, back then, the prevailing view of most beer-swilling and cocktail-imbibing Americans was that wine was an elitist product only consumed by ascot wearing, Hugh Hefner look-alikes with fake British accents.

There’ a nip in the air, multi-colored leaves are falling from the trees and football season is in full swing! It’s officially autumn, and I’m ready for a hearty dinner with full-bodied wine to celebrate my favorite time of the year. And also, with Columbus Day here, I’m going to recommend two Italian wines to accompany the tasty recipe for bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin I’ve provided for you below.

I know the Columbus Day holiday has been widely critiqued for the cavalier manner and heavy-handed actions of the explorer for whom the holiday is named. Christopher Columbus does deserve criticism because he was, at best, directionally challenged. Here’s a guy who traveled west to find a quicker route to the east and ended up discovering North…. America. But Columbus did introduce our continent to Italian wine, and I’m grateful to him, at least, for that.

During winters when I was growing up in the Northview section of Clarksburg, I remember being forced to eat food I thought had been grown in tin cans. When I refused to eat the limp and tasteless vegetables and fruit that oozed from these metal containers, I was required to sit at the dinner table until I relented, and choked down a forkful of the despicable stuff.

I suppose there was some sort of nutritional benefit to consuming canned veggies and fruit back then, but I would have preferred starvation, a paddling from Dad or even being whacked on the knuckles again by Sister Grimalda for talking during class at St. James Grade School – a medieval, penal institution where I served more time in detention than in the classroom.

When I was a teenager and knew everything there was to know about life, my father, in an attempt to enlighten me said, “Son, life is like an onion, there’s a lot of layers to it, and sometimes it will bring a tear to your eye, but you’ll be a wise man if you just keep on peeling.”

I just looked up at my dad with a blank stare and thought to myself: what the hell is he talking about? Of course, I didn’t verbalize what I was thinking. I simply nodded and continued to bungle my way through a decade of dissipation. And soon thereafter, I realized that I had just peeled back a layer of that onion and I wasn’t at all pleased with what I was seeing. I could only hope the next layer would reveal a wiser man.