Well this is how it started. I sort of fell into this habit through luck and right-time-right-place. I had a great group of friends who decided a trip to Sonoma was in the cards over Vegas that year. We rented a house in the Russian River valley and took on the local winery scene by storm (literally, noise complaint reports to be supplied upon request). Armed with an amazing array of small production wineries close by I set out to enjoy the vacation we had looked forward to all year. But this trip was slightly different than the last. The Vegas-style shenanigans moved from the Wynn to the vineyard – the morning cocktail from the bloody mary to the finest of our local convenience store, Korbel. The trip opened my eyes to the beauty of a well oaked Chardonnay and an appreciation for the art of winemaking.
A few years later I found myself on a trip to the Marlborough wine region in New Zealand. I asked myself as I kicked off my first tour – do you like cold, damp, cloudy climates? No. Do you like volcanic roads worse than San Francisco on a good day? I suppose not. Do you even like Sauvignon Blanc? Um no, preferably not. Why am I here? Well. That’s where it gets good. Between the mineral tasting wine and the lord of the rings scenery I had a revelation. Wine is an experience. A culture. A community. A passion. And that is what I wanted to be a part of. My British proper side says don’t end a sentence with a preposition…enough said. Welcome to my unabashed and unbiased exploration into the world of wine. Comment, contradict, contribute, and enjoy.
The Grapevine* 