History of a Wine Snob

This post is dedicated to my dear friend, Julie. Without her, I would have forgotten that I still had blog followers (or, at least one).


I suppose it's taken me so long to post because I've been very busy with a new job marketing one of my lifelong passions: wine. I say lifelong because it began in the womb. Yes, that's right. My mother indulged in a glass of white wine every now and then when she was pregnant with me. And I turned out just fine, right? My father helped facilitate my budding passion for wine when I was a young girl. At dinner time, he would pour me a wine glass full of water, with a splash of wine. I called it "wine with water" - though it was really more like watered down juice. As I got older, he poured less water and more wine. By the time I was sixteen or seventeen, I was allowed a small glass of wine at dinner with my family. This method not only built my astounding tolerance for alcohol, but it made me appreciate wine for the luxury that it is.

I'd like to thank my father for building my level of taste by spoiling me with his astounding collection of wines that he has been building for the last forty years or so. He has an impressive library from my 1985 birth year; which, fortunately for me, was one of the greatest years of wine production in history. My brother is insistent that '88 was better, so we often have dueling tastings and this Christmas we battled these two Cheateau Margaux.


In college, I didn't have my father around to serve bottles of expensive and delicious wine. But I knew the difference between good wine and bad wine, and I had a few favorites that were in the $10-$15 range at the local grocery store. I wouldn't be caught dead drinking out of a bag of Franzia (in fact, the thought of it makes me cringe). And I can count the number of times on my hand that I've had a glass of Charles Shaw, or "two buck chuck" as most of you refer to it. I've never understood the purchase of Charles Shaw. Why would you go to Trader Joe's and pay $2.o0 for a bottle of not so good wine when you can pay $5.00 for a bottle of great Nero D'avola! Trust me, it's worth the extra $3.00. Sometimes I would go out to the frat houses with a four pack of mini bottles of wine. It was sort of a trademark.


My senior year of college I visited my friend in San Francisco and we took a trip to her house in St. Helena. We tasted at Duckhorn, St. Supery, Cakebread, Napa Wine Company and Domaine Chandon. I still remember my first sip of Duckhorn Merlot in their beautiful tasting room overlooking the vines. It remains to be my favorite California wine, and I'm currently aging a bottle in the safety of my dad's cellar.

That day in Napa, I decided that I needed to live in the Bay Area so that I could be close to this mecca of wine and develop a career around it. Fast forward four years; here I am living in San Francisco, a city I lovingly call home, and working at a fun and exciting wine company. Life is good.