I made a couple of batches of dandelion wine two years ago and then proceeded to forget about them. They sat, under a protective blanket of self-generated carbon dioxide in the basement waiting to be bottled.
It wasn’t until this year’s dandelions bloomed that I thought about the stuff. Up from the basement, the carboys dusted off and the liquid decanted, the moment of truth arrived. With no small amount of anticipated yuck, small sips were taken, and with pleasure, it was deemed pretty good.