From "The Mysterious Heart of Deliciousness," by husband-and-wife wine writers Dorothy J. Gaiter and John Brecher (who I first heard about here):

The most delicious wine we ever tasted was a Cabernet we drank on our honeymoon in a vineyard near where it was made. Close behind is a 1959 Latour we drank during a rare visit to New York by John's older brother; the first great Riesling we ever tasted when we thought Riesling was plonk; a 1963 Port we drank, in the first apartment we owned together, while an epic snowstorm hit the city; and a bottle of Champagne with which we welcomed our first daughter into the world. Add to that lineup a different Champagne that we served at our wedding and with which we welcomed our second daughter. Did they taste better to us because of the circumstances? Of course they did. We first wrote more than a decade ago that the same exact wine will taste different if you have it at lunch with your boss or on the beach with your loved one. Does that make the more-delicious experience less genuine? Of course not.

In fact, this is, in many ways, what great wine is all about: It is all about you. By allowing other people to ridicule any wine you like or criticize the way you enjoy it, or by allowing others to decide for you what is and is not a fine wine, you are genuinely missing the point of wine, which is this: Your enjoyment of any wine is an extension of yourself, your emotions, your experiences and your circumstances when you drink it. A truly fine wine is like a truly fine poem: It's not just about what the poet thought or felt when he or she wrote it, but what you thought or felt when you read it. Different people will experience the same exact wine differently, and vive la différence.