Sending Wine Home

In the spring of 1997, I was ushered into a beautiful dining hall in Rome with 100 other study abroad students for a nice Italian dinner. This would be our first taste of life in Italy. I remember that moment so clearly, especially because of the beautiful glass of wine paired with dinner. The room was full and vibrant with college kids not even quite 21 eager to take in the passion and culture of Italian life. The conversations with new friends and the warmth of the night made for a fulfilling start to many lasting memories. And, in that night, was my first introduction to the world of wine. It wasn’t lost on me that there was something magical about adding an elegant glass of rich Italian red to our moment of meeting new friends.

We didn’t study wine much while we were there, but we always made sure to have some every evening. The wine was always good. It always went with the food. And, for us, we were true Italians if we had wine at the table. I had been raised in the Protestant South where neither wine nor dancing was good for you. With good parenting, I had missed the high school obligation of Boone’s Farm and luck at a religious college kept me from the alcohol-induced freshman fifteen. However, the reality is, you cannot be in Italy without becoming beautifully acquainted with wine.

Back in the States, I mostly left wine behind. Car culture makes it very difficult to enjoy a few glasses and walk home. And except for a few moments, where I picked up a pinky White Zinfandel just because of the color or an Italian red for old time’s sake, my wine life became part of the memories.

Until one day, 25 years later, I wandered into a wine shop and randomly perused the French aisle. Completely confused, I walked out. I gathered the courage to call up an old intimidatingly knowledgeable wine expert friend and ask if he could give me any recommendations. And from there, my real journey into wine started. With guided tastings alongside emailed mini-classes on the world of wine….I was hooked. Immediately, I could see that place was the driving force to each wine taste.

Now, 5 years into my obsession with wine, I have learned that there is so much more than pretty pink and rich red. I am finally over my irrational rejection of Chardonnay. So, I decided it’s time to get to know current Virginia wine. I figure, I have lived here for 50 years, I have driven regularly from the Bay to the Blue Ridge for most of my life, I love pretty estate houses with grand sweeping views, I understand wine aspects much more now, and every restaurant sommelier I talk to is looking to find good Virginia wine for their menu. What is the name they say the most to me? Michael Shaps.

The truth is Virginia wine never impressed me. I went to a few wineries over the years. I joined a wine club sometimes. It mostly was pleasant and a few wines were pretty good but $25-$45 good? Hmmmm….not so sure.

Deeply, I am a Virginian. I know the weather. I know the culture in each area. I know the crops and the soil. My tastings, till now, felt more like drinking a pine tree mixed with a greeny-meany apple or a port wine aged in an oyster bucket. Some Virginia wines would start out ok and then have no finish. Others had a rough, tangy start and then smooth after. Many of the reds felt like they needed to be in a barrel for another 10 years.

And, what in the world do you pair these wines with for dinner? Virginia cuisine is multi-faceted. We pull from every global type and make it happen. Virginia has always been the center of diplomacy and international variety. We don’t just eat one type of thing. And, besides growing tobacco, corn, and soybeans, we have catfish, shellfish and oysters. What wine pairs with that like the divine bliss of a “Loire” white and goat-cheese? The old adage “what grows together, goes together?” Perhaps, apples from the mountains are a clue? The more I listened to Virginia winemaker podcasts, the value of French site-specific wine laws became vividly clear.

Local grower’s biggest hurdles are humidity, clay soil, and frost. I think the first winemakers assumed we were similar to Bordeaux so it made sense to grow those grapes. I think, maybe, if we dig out the soil and replace it with gravel like Bordeaux did, we would be in a more elevated spot. And historically, Bordeaux does blends. The current consumer driven grocery store wine trend is to label the wine bottle with just one grape. But, the reality is that the magic of wine in many places is in the curated blend.

As I searched for why the wine news was leveling up our state, I ventured out to taste again with a better informed palate. After a few samples of esteemed Virginia wines on local BTG menus (thank you local bar managers for choosing the smooth and food friendly ones for my lunch), an overwhelmingly gorgeous and inspiring day-trip experience at Revalation Vineyards, and an educational tasting at Fabbioli Cellars, things started to come together for me. It is a *chef’s kiss* that an Italian would bring my wine story full circle.

Tasting through grape varieties I had never experienced, blends that make better geographic sense, with marketing labels that draw you to the wine’s personality, and a tasting room you don’t really want to leave…. it hit me. As Virginia works its place (terroir) and grape blend journey, it is the intuitive winemakers that are giving Virginia AVAs an evolving experienced voice for wine drinkers both old and new. Most importantly, it is the earthy elegance of Virginia ambiance and the Old Dominion balanced, connective style conversation that will bring the long-lost AND the untapped public a new invigorating understanding of what wine truly achieves.