As a kid in France, it was often my job to set the table. I would put out the tables, the knives, the forks, and of course, the wine glasses. Wine was an integral part of every dinner, whether it was poured out by my grandmother (from a cardboard box and diluted with water) or by my father (from a dusty bottle of Bordeaux). Since my first taste of watered down wine during a lazy Sunday lunch with my aunts, I’ve associated great meals with wine. Over the years, I’ve become more familiar with new wines than the French wines I grew up with. Over the next year, I plan on rediscovering French wines, and educating myself about wine in general.