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My first sip was at the age of 8. I can clearly remember my paternal grandparents' condo in Gatlinburg during Thanksgiving. My dad, grandmother, and grandfather were seated at the table after dinner and my dad offered me a sip. I thought it was vile and spit it out into the garbage bin. Looking back, I believe it was a merlot.
My second encounter was at the apartment while living with my mother (parents divorced), age 13. She had an opened bottle of white zinfandel in the refridgerator and I dared to pour myself a small cup's worth. The taste was alright, but it was nothing special to me.
I hadn't established much of an appreciation for wine until after the age of 18. My first beer was at 15 or so, a Blue Moon pale belgian lager. Not bad. While not quite 21, my family realizes that I am not prone to abusing alcohol and treats me as an adult at gatherings, setting a glass of wine down at my position of the table like everyone else. It's not an issue, as I've never given cause to make it one.
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