Growing up in an Irish/Italian family, there would always be a jug of Carlo Rossi or Gallo wine on the dinner table next to the spaghetti and meatballs for my father after a hard day's work hauling commerce around Los Angeles in the back of a Brink's armored car.
He'd pour himself a glass of the grape while my mother -- Carrie Nation -- would say a prayer for his wayward soul.