Which is why I found it altogether serendipitous when Napa Valley Vintners reached out about their Open the Cellar campaign happening this week. The ask wasn’t just to share that, for one week only, a collection of Napa Valley wineries would be opening their libraries and offering some of their 2016 wines (no small thing). It was also to spread the message that great wines are meant to be enjoyed, not reserved for a milestone.

It felt too perfect to say no to, and a rare chance, even for me, to revisit a vintage with so much personal meaning. So with that, here are my thoughts on the 2016 vintage, both then and now, and how to enjoy these wines with everything from peanut butter pretzels to a cheesesteak.

2016 Then: The Year That Started It All

2016 was my first full year living and working in Napa Valley. As a sommelier and resident of St. Helena, I had a front-row seat to everything, from pruning in the winter all the way through harvest, and it was an extraordinary year. It was also the year I started my Sommvivant YouTube channel and Instagram. So in addition to running around the valley seizing any opportunity a winery would give me, I was simultaneously teaching myself how to shoot and edit video whilst holding down my full-time job at PRESS. “Tired” took on a new meaning that year, but I’d never felt more energized.

I recognized in that year how important it was for me to be in the thick of it all. So much so that when someone asks me what they should do to learn about wine, my first answer is “go live somewhere wine is made.” There is no substitute for being among the vines, watching the season unfold in real time, and seeing firsthand how Mother Nature always gets the final say. You learn quickly how important that word “vintage” is. A “good” or “bad” one rarely tells the whole story, but occasionally the word “perfect” fits the bill. Such was the case in 2016.

A warm spring woke the vines up early, and the summer that followed was moderate and steady, with no heat spikes forcing anyone’s hand. I had never lived anywhere you could wake up day after day to sunshine and no threat of rain. Every time a winemaker parked themselves at the bar for a well-deserved post-work martini, they’d tell me basically the same thing: “The grapes are just taking their time, and there’s nothing on the horizon telling me to intervene.” The crop came in a little light (drought was still very much a thing), and the berries were small and concentrated, but when the wines were barreled down, everyone had smiles on their faces.

The weather stayed so spectacular into the fall that I finally understood why people never leave California, and I caught my Canada Goose parka glancing sideways at me, wondering if she’d ever see the light of day again. When my parents came to visit for Thanksgiving, we spent most of it outdoors. A far cry from our usual festivities in Philadelphia, with the added benefit of cracking Dungeness crabs in the backyard sunshine as a pre-turkey snack.

By then, the 2013s and some 2014s were starting to appear on the PRESS wine list, and they gave the highly praised 2012s a real run for their money. But 2016, by all accounts, was going to be different. Firmer. More present. It was a vintage in which many winemakers began to ask how ripe was too ripe. After nearly two decades of pushing the limits, the reins were noticeably pulled back. The word balance was on everyone’s lips, and 2016 was the vintage where we started to see that shift. And in 2019, when the 2016s started to be released, it showed.

I remember putting them on the list that year, and as a wine director, the vintage made it incredibly difficult to make cuts. Wine after wine after wine came through our doors and impressed the heck out of me and my team. Napa Valley is lucky to have great weather most years, but in 2016 something genuinely magical happened.

2016 now: what ten years did

So how is the vintage showing a decade later? The firmness has softened, and the serious edge has turned more sultry. All good things. I remember the tannins being grippy and unmistakably 2016, but now they read like velvet upholstery on a brand-new, plushy couch. They still have give, bounce and freshness, but the wines want you to sink into them and relax. I didn’t decant a single one. I let them open up in the glass instead, and I’d recommend you do the same. They don’t need it. Right out of the gate, they’re cresting ever so slightly into that savory place that reminds us they’ve been quietly maturing while we’ve been busy getting married, building careers, and wondering if we should have bought that house back then (just me?). But there’s still so much fruit on top, and you can really feel the balance and restraint winemakers started to exercise that year.

Age is a funny thing in wine. Like humans, some age better than others, and no one really, truly knows why. What ten years mostly does is shift the conversation. The bouncy, youthful fruit starts to give way to more savory, earthy notes: dried herbs, tobacco, cedar, a little forest floor. It’s important to note that aged wine is a preference, and plenty of Napa Valley wines are wonderful on release. Not every 2016 will be at the same stage, either. A Rhône-style blend from the eastern hills, a Cabernet Franc-driven blend and a Rutherford Cabernet will each tell you a very different story at ten, which is exactly what makes opening a handful of them side by side so much fun.

Why now, and why not on a holiday

As a sommelier, I get asked all the time about special bottles: what to buy, when to open them, what to eat with them. My answer always comes down to three things, and the last one surprises people.

1. Buy as close to the source as you can, and then leave it alone. Ideally that means buying directly from the winery. Once it’s home, keep it somewhere cool and away from light, but above all somewhere you won’t have to move it a bunch of times. This is the beauty of Open the Cellar. These 2016s have spent the last decade resting in the wineries’ own cellars, so the hardest part of aging has already been handled for you.

2. Buy quality. That doesn’t have to mean crazy money. It means a reputable producer, from a region known for age-worthy wines, in a good vintage. Napa Valley in 2016 checks all three boxes.

3. Don’t save it for a special occasion. I know it’s tempting, especially with the holidays coming up, but a big celebration rarely does a great bottle any favors. The wine gets lost in the noise. Make the wine the occasion instead, even if it’s a random Tuesday. Actually, especially if it’s a random Tuesday. That’s exactly what I did in my Reel this week: one 2016 Napa Cabernet, a bag of peanut butter pretzels, and a couch with absolutely no agenda.

How to open an older bottle (without overthinking it)

• Stand it up. If you can, set the bottle upright a day ahead so any sediment settles to the bottom.

• Mind the temperature. If your wine lives at room temperature, put it in the fridge for 20 minutes before you pour. Warm red wine tastes flabby and boozy.

• Use a proper corkscrew or ah-so. You don’t need anything special to open a 10 year old cork (especially if you’re buying one direct from the winery where it’s been stored properly), but be gentle. Go slow, and use a regular waiters wine key or 2-prong opener if you’re feeling extra cautious.

• Don’t decant. Let this open in glass, please. You’ll miss so much by decanting and the wine really won’t benefit from it.

Six 2016s worth a random Tuesday

These are the six bottles Napa Valley Vintners sent my way, listed from least to most expensive. They’re a small sampling of what’s available this week, so browse the full lineup too. For each one I’ve paired a snack and something to watch, because the whole point is that none of this needs to be fancy.

Kale Wines Broken Axle, Stagecoach Vineyard ($70)

The wine: A Rhône-style blend of 55% Syrah and 45% Grenache from Stagecoach Vineyard, high in the eastern hills, where the ground is so rocky that heavy trucks used to break down clearing it (hence the name). Only 273 cases were made, and Kale held it back until 2021 before releasing it.

The winemaker says: Blueberry, blackberry and violet up front, then silky tannins with tobacco, dark cocoa and a balsamic, earthy finish.

My take: The Grenache is really grenache’ing. That strawberry fruit roll-up thing I love so much about Grenache is on full display here. It’s lost most of its grip so it drinks almost like a great California Pinot Noir, but with a spicy, smoky layer that is unmistakably syrah.

Snack: Smoky barbecue chips and a few slices of good salami.

Watch: As Good as It Gets (1997). There’s something about the edge of Jack Nicholson in a comedy like this that reminds me of this wine. Serious filmmaking by the iconic James L. Brooks with his unmistakable wit and brilliant writing. He made something hilarious, smart, and sentimental and I think that fits the wine beautifully.

Cliff Lede Stags Leap District Cabernet Sauvignon ($110)

The wine: 79% Cabernet Sauvignon rounded out with Merlot, Petit Verdot and Cabernet Franc, from the hillside terraces of the Poetry Vineyard and the estate surrounding the winery.

The winemaker says: Red and black currants, wild blackberries, violets and lavender, with a warm spice cabinet of cardamom and anise over Luxardo cherry. Supple tannins on the finish.

My take: Juicy and finessed with very dark, black fruit that can’t be from anywhere but Stags Leap District.

Snack: A takeout lamb gyro, extra tzatziki. Those warm spices were made for it.

Watch: Almost Famous, for a winery that names its vineyard blocks after classic rock songs.

St. Supéry Rutherford Estate Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon ($160)

The wine: 85% Cabernet Sauvignon with Merlot, Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot, grown on the estate’s stretch of the Rutherford Bench. Just 730 cases.

The winemaker says: Red cherry, plum and raspberry layered with coffee, black pepper, a hint of graphite and anise.

My take: If Bordeaux and California had a baby, this wine might be it. There’s so much graphite and savory in here that I had to double check it was 2016. I love how evolved this wine is in terms of flavor, but it gives itself away in texture. The tannins are firmer than I might have expected on this but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. The structure and flavor of wines don’t always evolve in unison and this wine is a great example of that. A fun surprise and one I actually don’t think would mind a decant if you insist on such things.

Snack: Sharp aged white cheddar on Triscuits. Hard, aged cheese and Cabernet-based wines are a classic for a reason.

Watch: Bottle Shock, a love letter to the Napa Valley that chronicles the 1976 Judgment of Paris that put California wine on the map. An obvious nod to the wine’s French wine roots but a match I think is well-suited.

Cakebread Cellars Benchland Select Cabernet Sauvignon ($170)

This is the bottle from my Reel.

The wine: 100% Cabernet Sauvignon from Cakebread’s benchland vineyards in Oakville and Rutherford, including the Hill Ranch vineyard that surrounds Jack and Dolores Cakebread’s home. Aged 22 months in French oak. When it was released, the winery suggested giving it another seven to ten years, which puts us right in the window.

The winemaker says: Boysenberry and violets, then ripe blackberry, fig and dried sage, finishing on sweet blackberry and dark chocolate.

My take: So nuanced and positively drinkable. This wine couldn’t be in a better place. I’m shocked to learn it’s 100% Cabernet Sauvignon given how many new flavors kept pulling me back in. But it speaks to the land, the vintage, and great winemaking all happening in tandem.

Snack: Peanut butter pretzels. Salt, protein and fat are the trifecta red wine loves, and at ten years old the tannins have softened just enough to let the pretzel play. It tastes like the world’s greatest PB&J.

Watch: The Diplomat, now in its fourth season. The dense dialogue makes you lean in and really focus, but it’s worth your attention, just like this wine

Blackbird Vineyards Paramour ($225)

The wine: A Right Bank-inspired blend of 82% Cabernet Franc, 15% Merlot and 3% Cabernet Sauvignon. The most perfumed and savory of the bunch.

The winemaker says: Blueberry, black cherry, cedar, porcini and mint, then violets, plum and chocolate on a fine-grained finish.

My take: I always forget how well Cabernet Franc ages from Napa Valley. It only represents about 2% of what’s planted here, but it’s one of my favorite grapes for a reason. It’s positively herbal and juicy, and you can really feel Aaron Pott’s deft hand in how he guided this wine so that it strikes the perfect balance between the two.

Snack: mushroom taco. I know Aaron is a fan of Ray Ray’s tacos in St. Helena so consider this a little homage to both him and the wine. Cabernet Franc loves mushrooms, so sauté them in some herbs, throw them on a tortilla, and garnish with a little crème fraîche. for the easiest, most delightful snack.

Watch: The Taste of Things. I just watched this French film from 2023 starring Juliette Binoche and felt positively moved by it. Easily the best food and wine film I’ve ever seen and as such, you’ll want more than just a bowl of chips. This is the perfect, easy-to-do pairing for it.

Signorello Estate Padrone ($280)

The wine: Named for Ray Signorello Sr., Padrone comes from the best blocks of the estate’s rocky hillside vineyard. Mostly Cabernet Sauvignon, fermented with native yeast and bottled unfined and unfiltered.

The winemaker says: Blackberry, cassis, licorice, lavender and dark chocolate, opening with time in the glass to tobacco, plum, espresso and sage.

My take: Everything about this wine is loud in the best way. But like The Godfather (my watch pairing), the most interesting parts are the quiet ones. A beautiful juxtaposition between big, boisterous fruit and the softness of more rounded tannins. I drank a glass and ran this over to my neighbor who loves bigger, bombastic wines so he can see one of the best examples of this I’ve had in a long time.

Snack: A cheesesteak. The most expensive bottle gets the most humble pairing, because a cheesesteak has everything wine loves (salt, fat, acid and protein) and isn’t trying to compete.

Watch: The Eagles game. If they’re on a bye, The Godfather, because Padrone is Italian for boss.

How To Find These Wines

Open the Cellar runs November 2 to 9. Participating Napa Valley wineries are offering their 2016 library wines directly from their cellars, along with special shipping incentives that vary by winery. Availability is limited, so once a bottle is gone, it’s gone. But this is an excellent opportunity to experience the vintage in the most ideal way possible.

Explore the 2016 Napa Valley wines at Open the Cellar

Disclaimer: This post is part of a paid partnership with Napa Valley Vintners for Open the Cellar. The wines were sent to me as samples. Every memory, opinion and questionable snack choice is my own.

For adults 21 and over. Please enjoy responsibly.

I had been saving this Chablis for about five years: a 2018 Raveneau Montée de Tonnerre purchased on release from a very trusted source. When I bought it, I think it cost me somewhere in the vicinity of $300-$400 (now it trades closer to $600), though truth be told, the sting of that splurge has thankfully been long forgotten. Raveneau (for those unfamiliar) is one of the great, heralded, coveted producers of the region. Though not a Grand Cru (Montée de Tonnerre is 1er Cru), the wines consistently command a Grand Cru-level price tag compared to many other producers, and generally, they warrant it.

Sure, we’re not talking DRC-level damage into the thousands, but $400 was absolutely a splurge for me (especially at the time), and finding them out in the wild, just sitting on a shelf, is next to impossible. The supply is painfully limited, with demand outpacing even the most generous of vintages. Which means these fall squarely in the “allocated” column, with most bottles earmarked exclusively for the best restaurants and retailers who, even then, will receive just a handful. In short, you must know someone or be willing to pay the secondary market markup if Raveneau is on your list of “must-tries.”

I carried her with me from California to my new home back east, watched her egg me on through an engagement, career milestones, holidays, and birthdays, and heard her growl at me through power outages and cellar reorganizations. She stared at me from her front-row spot in my wine fridge for years, too high up for me to casually grab, but always within sight. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a few moments when the temptation made me giddy with excitement. But I always found a way to restrain myself.

When it comes to the “when” of wine, critics and reviewers do regularly provide a drinking window. Though they themselves have no crystal ball to predict the future, they do have past experience that informs their speculations. Still, the “window” is a more of a scientific deduction in which they’re calculating the moment the primary fruit meets the secondary and tertiary flavors a wine develops or reveals over time, when the acids will wane, and how the tannins will round. It’s a helpful tool, but a non-linear guide that still leaves the drinker wondering, “When, specifically?”

I found myself struggling with that very question over the years. And so, eventually, I developed a bit of a mantra for myself. One that wasn’t formulaic per se, but that could still account for drinking windows and build in the human element of it all.

The mantra was simple, and one I’d adopted after fumbling on the 1-yard line with other precious gems I’d been saving.

Great wine doesn’t need a special occasion. In fact, most of the time it really doesn’t want it. The best bottles should be saved for a time when they themselves are the occasion.

It’s slightly antithetical to what the wine world would have you believe. But after relinquishing several other investment bottles to moments where they weren’t the occasion, I mostly found myself disappointed. They’d been pawns in a game of chess no one really cared to play. Time after time, I’d bring them to birthdays and holidays, promising myself I wouldn’t feel the ache of regret when invariably they’d be poured and guzzled with little more than a “this is good.” But that was never the case. I don’t blame them or even harbor any resentment about it. Even for me, there was too much going on to notice the subtleties those wines possess in moments that are decidedly un-subtle. Nuance can’t compete with chaos.

As for the celebratory moments, consider your headspace for a moment. I can tell you mine is frenetic at best. Even when there isn’t chaos around me, my mind is rarely at ease.

And therein lies the issue
The bottle, this thing you’ve been saving for the perfect moment, gets swept up and taken down, not by you, but by the moment itself.

I won’t tell you there isn’t a perfect moment to crack the bottle, because I’ve found it more than a handful of times. But it does require a steadfastness to consider the mantra before pulling the proverbial trigger.

As the Nor’easter crashed into the mainland on Saturday, we shrugged our shoulders, curled up on the couch, and picked out an old movie. Cozy was the name of the game, and popcorn was the only food on the menu. We had both returned from trips the day before, and neither of us was in the mood to play with fire in the kitchen or brave the elements outside. We hemmed and hawed on beverages. Coffee midday felt like a gamble, the Chartreuse I’d picked up in Bordeaux felt too sweet, and water wasn’t exactly a fun choice.

I called out from the kitchen. “Wine? Burgundy?”

“White?” he questioned.

I smiled. “Yes.”

White Burgundy: Chardonnay bright enough to combat the dreariness of the day, sultry enough for a romantic movie, and a wine that required nothing but patience. We had that in spades that day. There was nowhere to go and nothing to do but exist in the weird jet-lagged fog that precluded me from doing any actual work that weekend. But would today be the day? I had lots of White Burgundy to choose from. The Raveneau would be the profligate choice, to be sure.

I stuck the Kirkland-brand popcorn in the microwave as I had dozens of times before and grabbed the bowl.

Even then, despite my own mantra, I searched for a justification. We had just celebrated our one-year anniversary…

No. I reasoned with my own rationale for several minutes. Surely I’d come to my senses and choose something more sensible.

But the signs were all there, and the mantra kept swimming to the top. We had a desire to drink wine and the time to do it. Simple as that.

And so, as if the wine gods had nudged me there themselves, I found myself face to face with the Raveneau. As the bottle slid out of its home without complication, I thought I heard the faintest sigh of relief. I retrieved the ice bucket to chill it ever so slightly and polished the dusty Zaltos hiding in the back of my wine glass cabinet. The Gabriel-Glas StandArt is my daily workhorse glass, but we were shifting into luxe mode, and I knew better than to pair linen with silk.

“We don’t use these enough.”

“I know. Handwash.” I shrugged.

I braced myself, waiting for something to go awry. I’m not normally this pessimistic, but it is still Burgundy. She’s the dragon you chase your whole life knowing you’ll probably have more disappointments than successes. But my God, when it’s good, it’s otherworldly.

The cork was pristine, smelled of nothing, and looked its age. At 8 years old, a wine like this shouldn’t have progressed much, if at all. As I poured, the slightest whisper of straw-gold reflected against the crystal backdrop. Any more than this and I’d be worried, but this was perfect. A sign of strength in the face of transport and a handful of temperature shifts.

Groundwork had been laid, but the real test was still to come. The brim of the glass met my nose, and I took a breath. Nothing but net. Pure, Burgundian Chardonnay. These winemakers may use oak, but they do so like the best makeup artists on the planet, painting the most beautiful faces in the world so discreetly you’d swear they woke up like that.

A swirl, another breath, and a sip. I felt the unnecessary tension I’d been hiding in my shoulders take a hike. It’s just wine, Amanda. Calm down. It wasn’t nerves per se, just that buildup of excitement I mentioned, manifesting in human form.

I thought about how hilarious it might be if I tripped on my way to delivering the wine to the other room before questioning my own sanity. Welcome to my (sober) mind.

My husband raised an eyebrow as our Zaltos clinked. He still didn’t know. That’s part of the fun for me. But God, can you imagine if he didn’t like it?! I might actually be insane.

“Thoughts?” I questioned casually.

Silence.

Then, he glanced up at me.

“This is why we can never make wine.”

On more than a handful of alcohol-induced occasions, we’d toyed with the idea. But obsessive, compulsive perfectionists like us aren’t suited for the whims of Mother Nature. Nor do we own land in Burgundy, which was more to the point.

I knew the bottle would only get better from there, and it did. Revealing itself as slowly as the indie flick from 2007 he’d selected. I’d asked for Nancy Meyers, but this was more appropriate.

Casually, but generously, the impossibly viscous, light texture gave way to a freshness that hid underneath. Other regions get close, but Chardonnay from Chablis is painfully multifaceted in a way others are not. How can something be so heavy and light at the same time? Chablis is often described in terms of “minerality,” but I’ve always found that to be a gross oversimplification. It’s deeper than that. It’s one of the most honest, vulnerable, transparent wines in the world, and even now I struggle to communicate all that I experienced in those 90 minutes of sipping. Describe to a friend a place you’ve recently been, and you’ll likely note the restaurants and buildings, maybe the weather. But you won’t be able to communicate what it feels like. The way it smells when the rain hits the cobblestone and your bones begin to chill. How that first slurp of pasta fills a part of you you didn’t know was missing.

When you experience this firsthand, then you’ll begin to understand the mantra. You’ll believe me when I say great wines get lost in celebration, not amplified. And while a great bottle can certainly demarcate a moment, it will always play second fiddle to whatever else is happening.

As we took our last sips, I knew I had nailed it. I appreciated every moment of that wine, and even if I couldn't put it into words, I'd remember the feeling. I felt like a grown-up that afternoon. Ironic at nearly 40.

So, moral of the story: just as you began this journey with intent, that’s how you should finish it. Locked in, relaxed, ready to listen.

Three years ago my friend Ray Isle called Santa Cruz “California Wine’s best kept secret.” And secret, it has stayed.

Funny industry, wine. Everyone’s hunting for the next Burgundy. Nobody’s listening to the guy whose job is finding it (he’s Food & Wine’s executive wine editor, if you didn’t know). I suppose I have to include myself in the faction of non-listeners. As a wine professional who lived in Northern California for a decade and made it to Santa Cruz exactly one time, I can tell you: it’s not a place the rest of the California wine world talks about much.

Having just spent four days there with the Santa Cruz Mountains Winegrowers Association, I’m left part baffled and part excited. Unlike most of the wine regions I’ve explored, you won’t find wine country traffic, tasting room lines, or hefty tasting fees. Most of the wines were incredibly reasonable (at least by California standards), the food was excellent, the people were friendly, and the views were some of the most epic I’ve seen in California.

So what’s the problem? Where is the disconnect?

It's always hard to say with a world as finicky as wine. Perhaps it's their more casual nature and lack of pretense that's kept these wines quietly hidden. No one likes to boast much here. Maybe it's the mountain vineyards tucked into fog-soaked ridgelines that require some level of exploration off the beaten path. Switchbacks, bobcat sightings, and rattlesnake warning signs aren't for the faint of heart, I suppose. When you have steep competition in a state like California, it's usually the hungriest who get fed first. And speaking of competition, thanks to the surfing, Boardwalk, hiking, mountain biking, and myriad of other offerings in Santa Cruz, wine tasting doesn't even crack the top five tourist attractions.

Whatever the case may be, this quietly serious, unpretentious, uncut gem of California is truly (as Ray stated) one of the wine world’s best kept secrets and I, for one, would like to help change that.

Getting Oriented

Here’s the shorthand I keep coming back to: if Paso Robles is warm, generous, and a little bit extroverted, the Santa Cruz Mountains are its introverted older sibling. High elevation, cool climate, small production wines that feel like they could have been made in the 1970’s.

But let’s back up and start with where it actually is. Santa Cruz sits about 73 miles south of San Francisco, curved along the top of Monterey Bay, though the drive over Highway 17 makes it feel a lot farther than that. I flew into San Jose (SJC) which is about a 40-minute drive from town on a good traffic day, but locals tell me you can route through SFO and it’s not much longer.

Just over the hill you'll find Silicon Valley, but don't expect a town riddled with Apple Stores and tech vests. This is a place fueled by craft coffee and sourdough baked from organic, locally milled grain. Where finding a green juice with a rare algae is easier than locating a Target, and where the smell of redwood collides with salt air. It's the kind of place that wouldn't even need to vote on banning chain restaurants and big box stores, because no one would be preposterous enough to propose them in the first place. Surfing, hiking, biking, and being one with nature take precedence here. But this crunchy, hippie beach town cares just as much about Mother Earth as it does about eating like a Michelin-starred chef. A town of multitudes. I like it.

Add a boardwalk, a genuinely laid-back, slightly countercultural energy (this is banana slug country, UC Santa Cruz’s actual mascot, no notes) and you get a town that feels lived-in rather than curated. It’s exactly the kind of place that would quietly grow some of the best wine in California and not tell anyone about it.

What the Santa Cruz Mountains AVA lacks in pretense it makes up for in extreme terroir. The winemaking region runs along the spine of the range separating all that coastline from Silicon Valley, where marine fog rolling off Monterey Bay collides with vineyards planted as high as 2,800 feet above sea level. That fogline dictates everything here. It rolls in most mornings, burns off by early afternoon, and in the process creates one of the widest diurnal swings in California: warm days, genuinely cold nights. That swing is what lets grapes hang longer on the vine without losing their acidity or turning jammy and exactly why the majority of what I tasted leaned taut, crunchy, almost old-world in “style.” It’s probably too broad a generalization for a region as diverse in terroir as the Santa Cruz Mountains, but a fair caveat to note if your preference is big, boisterous, and a bit more on the ripe side.

Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Cabernet Sauvignon make up about 75% of what’s planted, and depending on which side of the mountain a vineyard sits, you get wildly different expressions of all three. Naturally, you’ll find those grapes in various forms ranging from sparkling to carbonic, plus a handful of other varieties for good measure. Coastal-facing sites lean bright and saline. Sites tilted toward the Santa Clara Valley side get more sun and produce something denser and more structured.

It’s a strange, splintered little region geographically, and that’s the first thing to accept before you plan a single tasting.

Where to Stay

I’ll be honest: the hotel situation is not Napa Valley. But that’s not really the point, is it? We stayed at Marea Sol, which was perfectly efficient. What it lacks in frills and luxury, it makes up for in location and price. It’s steps from the Beach Boardwalk and does exactly what you need it to do. Clean room, easy checkout, prime real estate. I wasn’t mad about it. I was, however, traveling with a fellow creator who shares my weakness for the finer things, and we quickly clocked the swankier, brand new La Bahia Hotel & Spa. It opened in 2025 after years of delays, and it appears to be the real deal: restored 1920s architecture, a proper spa, a beach club, and I can confirm the bar not only has a lovely Champagne-by-the-glass list, but also makes a proper Negroni. I’ll be curious to see how it fares in this community but from my perspective it fit in nicely.

How to actually plan your wine days

This is the part that trips people up, and it’s why you won’t find a tidy day-by-day itinerary below the way you would for Paso or Napa. The Santa Cruz Mountains simply don’t cooperate with that format.

First, understand that this is really two regions sharing one mountain range, and they don’t behave alike. One side faces the Pacific and stays blanketed in fog, which is where you’ll find most of the Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. The other side faces the warmer Santa Clara Valley and leans into Cabernet Sauvignon country. That split isn’t just about what ends up in your glass, it also means a real difference in where you’re driving.

On the coastal side, most wineries cluster in the foothills around Corralitos and Aptos, a short hop from Santa Cruz. On the valley side, you’ll find estates strung along Skyline Boulevard near Woodside and Cupertino — a genuinely different drive, not a quick hop between tastings. Pick a side per day rather than trying to do both. Also maybe bring a ginger candy or zofran if you don’t do well on windy roads.

Second, forget everything you know about wine country hours. Many of these are small, family-run operations, and a lot of tasting rooms are only open Thursday through Sunday, or strictly by appointment. Ridge’s Monte Bello estate, for one, requires reservations on weekdays and only opens without one on weekends, capped at small groups even then. Don’t roll up on a Tuesday expecting a flight and a cheese board. Book ahead through each winery’s site or Tock listing, and build in some flexibility.

Lastly, lean into the fact that Santa Cruz has more to offer than just wine. Whether you’re a pro or even a little bit curious about hiking, biking, surfing, etc, this is the perfect place to expand your horizons. In fact, I'd argue it will make for a more lasting, engaging wine trip.

The Wineries, Grouped by Side

On the valley side

Thomas Fogarty
Driving up Skyline will result in you losing cell service but it will be worth it. The impossibly massive 350-acre estate at Thomas Fogarty is protected as heritage oak and fir forest under the Williamson Act and once you arrive, you’ll understand why. It’s simply breathtaking. You’re tasting inside something closer to a nature preserve than a vineyard and with lots of wines to choose from across the portfolio, if you only have time for one visit, this might be the perfect panacea.

I particularly loved stopping for lunch at the legendary “Alice’s Restaurant” in Woodside. Though it sadly has no ties to the Arlo Guthrie, the swaths of motorcycles and delightfully old-school vibes will set the tone nicely for the remainder of the drive up.

Ridge Vineyards, Monte Bello
If you recognize one name from this region already, it's probably Ridge Vineyards. Their Monte Bello estate, up on the valley side, is the same one behind the 1971 Ridge Monte Bello included in the 1976 Judgment of Paris. The history here is undeniable, with vineyards dating back to 1885, terraced into a ridge so steep it feels more alpine than Californian. If you've ever tasted a Ridge wine, you know there's something incredibly distinct and rustic about them. Though French oak has been introduced into their modern vintages, Ridge famously only used American oak for their Cabernet, which has always lent itself to their signature mark. I can't overstate just how legendary these wines are. To this day, the older vintages of Ridge remain true pinnacles of my wine tasting career.

On the coastal side

A couple of these are genuinely walkable if you’re staying near the Boardwalk, no rental car required.

Madson Wines
I met these guys years ago in Santa Barbara and was an immediate fan. In fact, my wine club features their 2024 Santa Cruz Pinot Noir and I did a whole interview with their founder Cole Thomas on the Wine Access Unfiltered Podcast you can find here. They work out of a small cellar on Ingalls Street on the Westside which conveniently doubles as a tasting room. The focus is minimal-intervention Chardonnay and Pinot Noir with native, spontaneous ferments and only a restrained touch of sulfur at bottling. Though founded in 2018, it’s already earning real critical attention and in my opinion, will be among the most coveted in California down the line.

One point of note — their cellar (and tasting room) sits two doors down from Manresa Bread so plan your coffee stop accordingly.

Big Basin Vineyards
A downtown tasting room and wine bar on Pacific Avenue, we actually walked here from our hotel and were delighted to find not only great wine, but proper food. Argentinian empanadas, wood-fired flatbreads, a real cheese and charcuterie spread doubles nicely as a low-key dinner here. They make quite a few wines, but it was the Syrah that had my heart.

Once you’re ready to actually get up into the hills, the Corralitos and Aptos foothills are where the estate wineries live.

Nicholson Vineyards
Run by a family with eleven generations of California farming behind them, Nicholson pours elegant, terroir-driven Chardonnay and Pinot alongside their own estate olive oil. The setting alone (heritage oaks, olive groves, that mountain-to-coast view) earns the drive on its own. As you can see from the photos, it’s all about the ladies here and I just loved how warm and charming they were.

Lester Estate
A most unusual and unique tasting room, you’ll note collected pieces of art and taxidermy from all over the world before taking a single sip — and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. One of the more unique aspects of this place was the fact that they employ several winemakers to make their wines. It’s worth asking for a full tour of the property which is incredibly varied, diverse, and filled with tons of hidden gems. This is also where I spotted a bobcat chasing some deer (or maybe the other way around, I can’t be too sure).

Storrs Winery
We made a quick stop to this eco-built tasting room which sits on 60 organically farmed acres, from two UC Davis–trained winemakers who’ve been at it since 1988.

Windy Oaks Estate
If there’s one wine that haunts me from this trip, it’s the Windy Oaks Chardonnay. The vineyard sits 1,000ft up at the southern edge of the AVA, with views straight out over Monterey Bay. Another true family operation, I thought the wines were outstanding across the board in a way I haven’t stopped thinking about.

A Word on the Wines, as a Whole

After four days and dozens of pours, I can genuinely say there wasn’t a single wine I didn’t like. Not one.

That’s admittedly on-brand for my personal taste since I gravitate toward lean, crunchy wines that fight for their right to party in cool climates. But what sets the Santa Cruz Mountains apart from other cool-climate regions is that they lean into that identity instead of fighting it. There’s no attempt to coax a Russian River Valley wine out of fruit that was never going to ripen that way, and no interest in competing with the rich, velvety wines coming out of Napa. These wines aren’t trying to be something else, and neither is the place. That consistency is exactly why I now scan a wine list for “Santa Cruz Mountains” specifically. I know what I’m going to get, both in quality and in style.

It’s also, somehow, still a value play. More than once I tasted something that stopped me in my tracks, asked the price, and found out it was a third of what I’d guessed. You won’t find big production runs, oak chips, Mega Purple, or any of the other shortcuts that quietly show up in bigger, glossier regions. Santa Cruz is exactly who it claims to be. So is the wine.

Where to Eat (and Get Your Coffee Fix)

Mentone
In Aptos, from David Kinch of the once three-Michelin-starred Manresa. He’s traded formality for something looser and sunnier here: Riviera-inspired plates built for sharing, a wood-fired pizza oven anchoring the room, food that tastes like the coast between Nice and Genoa filtered through California produce. Reserve ahead, order everything, and don’t skip the cocktails.

HOME
Tucked into a converted cottage in Soquel Village, chef Brad Briske does hyper-local, farm-to-table cooking that speaks “California” with ease. The juiciest salads, handmade pastas, nose-to-tail butchery, and a fried chicken people apparently drive in from out of town for. It’s intimate and unpretentious and exactly on brand for the region.

Manresa Bread
The Westside Santa Cruz location (yes, the one two doors down from Madson) is non-negotiable for a pastry and coffee stop. Started by Kinch’s longtime pastry chef Avery Ruzicka, they do proper lamination in a way that makes me go “am I in Paris right now?” I dream about the Kouign Amann’s but honestly everything is a delight.

The bottom line

The Santa Cruz Mountains reward a slower, looser kind of planning than most wine regions. Pick a side of the mountain, pick three or four wineries max, book ahead, and leave room for the parts of the trip that have nothing to do with wine at all. That’s kind of the whole point of the place.

Big thanks to the Santa Cruz Mountains Winegrowers Association for hosting this trip — and if you want to see it in action, check out my videos recapping the exact experience here.

There’s a term I remember getting thrown around a lot in my early wine days. It was 2011 in NYC; moments before the natural wine craze or Cru Beaujolais north of $35 was a thing. But as Champagne got promoted from celebratory sidepiece to full-on headliner, the whispers of “Grower Champagne” and “Farmer Fizz” crescendo’d to a palpable roar. By 2012, Grower Champagne was everywhere — including on my small, but mighty wine list on 60th and 5th, where space was as much a commodity as the real estate it inhabited. As a sommelier, Grower Champagne seemed obvious. We loved Champagne, how it danced with every dish, its graceful progression from young to old, and we knew that to be truly appreciated, you skipped the flute. But Champagne was, in a lot of ways, antiquated. Rife and ready for the next chapter that would allow for more transparency, expression of place, and (God forbid) vintage variation. It’s not that I didn’t like or even love the houses that popularized the region. I did, and still very much do. But variety is the spice of life. And just as there’s room for Spiderman and the latest A24 film at the box office, Champagne as a region deserved a shot at diversifying across the category. In the end, the term Farmer Fizz didn’t survive, but Grower Champagne as a movement did finally get its day.

Which is exactly why, in my latest video, I couldn’t resist pointing out the little (and I mean little) RM code hiding on the back label. It’s not a party trick or a gimmick. It’s the one piece of fine print that actually tells you whether you’re holding a farmer’s wine or a merchant’s blend. A few of you asked the very fair follow-up question: okay, but why? Why does Champagne even have this system in the first place? Isn’t the person who grows the grapes supposed to be the person who makes the wine? Maybe. Yes. No. D, all of the above. It’s complicated.

So here’s how to decode the frustratingly small letters (there’s more than just “RM”), and what it all means for you as a drinker.

First, the Quick Refresher

That two-letter code is a legal requirement — every bottle of Champagne has to carry one, printed in tiny type near the producer’s registration number. Here’s the full lineup, because the video only had time for the headliner:

• RM — Récoltant-Manipulant (”Harvester-Handler”): grows the grapes and makes the wine, all under one roof. This is Grower Champagne. There are over 2,000 of them, representing roughly a third of all registered Champagne producers.

• NM — Négociant-Manipulant (”Merchant-Handler”): the big houses. Roughly 200 of them, mostly clustered in Reims and Épernay, and they’re the names you already know — your Moëts, your Veuve Clicquots, your Pipers. They typically own some vines but buy the rest of their fruit from growers to hit the volume they need.

  

• RC — Récoltant-Coopérateur: a grower who belongs to a co-op, has the co-op do the winemaking, then sells the finished wine under their own label.

• CM — Coopérative de Manipulation: the co-op itself, making and selling wine under its own name or its members’.

• MA — Marque d’Acheteur: a “buyer’s brand,” meaning a third party (a restaurant, a supermarket, your favorite wine bar) had a bottle made and slapped their own name on it. Think Kirkland brand Champagne. It’s still real Champagne, it’s just not the actual producer’s name on the label.

• ND — Négociant-Distributeur: a merchant who buys already-finished bottles and relabels them. Rare, but it exists.

RM is the one that means “no middleman.” One person (or one family) grew it, made it, and is putting their name on it.

So Why Wasn’t This the Default All Along?

In most wine regions, growing and winemaking being under the same roof is just... normal. Sure, many wineries still buy fruit to supplement or make special cuvées, but an entire region built on a divide-and-conquer model has always made Champagne an outlier. And the reason goes back to Napoleon.

After the French Revolution, inheritance law required land to be divided equally among a person’s children instead of passed down whole to one heir. Do that for a few generations across a small region and you get exactly what happened in Champagne (and also Burgundy, while we’re on the subject): vineyard land splintered into thousands of tiny parcels, many under a single hectare, spread across hundreds of different families. Most of those families were farmers, not winemakers — they didn’t have the cellars, the presses, the aging space, or frankly the capital to turn grapes into finished, bottle-fermented wine, let alone sell and ship it. As a reminder, Champagne is one of the most costly, labor-intensive wines in the world. Walk any accountant worth their salt through the start-to-finish breakdown of how it’s made and watch their jaw hit the floor.

I digress.

Meanwhile, merchants in Reims and Épernay — well-capitalized, well-connected, sitting on chalk cellars perfect for aging wine at a steady cool temperature — realized they could buy grapes from all those small growers, blend them into a consistent house style, and sell the result under one recognizable brand name. Moët dates to 1743. Ruinart, the oldest Champagne house, to 1729. This is the négociant model, and it’s why, for roughly two centuries, “Champagne” in most people’s minds meant a big house name, not a grower’s name. The growers farmed. The houses made it work. Things were going pretty well. And as Champagne made its name worldwide as the celebratory beverage of choice, its cachet as a brand continued to improve.

Then It Got Ugly (Briefly)

The grower-house relationship wasn’t always the polite, symbiotic thing it is today. By the early 1900s it had curdled into something closer to exploitation. Champagne had just survived a brutal stretch — phylloxera tearing through vineyards, four straight years of disastrous harvests, and a catastrophic 1910 vintage that almost wiped out the whole crop. Growers were desperate. And instead of paying them fairly, some houses started quietly buying cheap grapes from outside the region entirely — the Loire, Languedoc, even Germany and Spain — to pad their supply while still slapping “Champagne” on the bottle.

Growers found out. And it went exactly as you think it did. In January of 1911, things boiled over in the town of Aÿ: mobs intercepted trucks hauling in outside grapes and dumped them straight into the Marne River, then went after the offending producers’ cellars. The regional governor reportedly telegraphed Paris that they were “in a state of civil war.” The government sent in 40,000 troops to calm things down. A far cry from the euphoria Champagne generally provides.

It worked, eventually, but the fallout reshaped the entire industry. It’s a big part of why France formalized the Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée system — Champagne has to come from Champagne, full stop — and why the region built a village-by-village grading scale (the échelle des crus) to set fair, standardized grape prices instead of leaving growers at the mercy of individual houses. In 1941, the two sides went even further and created the CIVC (Comité Interprofessionnel du Vin de Champagne), a joint governing body of growers and houses that still sets policy for the entire region today. Whatever you’re drinking tonight, its price and quality standards trace back to a truce.

Enter: The Growers Who Said “Actually, We’ll Do It Ourselves”

Grower Champagne (and the “RM” code) has technically always existed. But for most of the 20th century, grower Champagne was a regional secret enjoyed by locals and a handful of true aficionados. That started to change in the 1980s, when importer Kermit Lynch began bringing small estate producers like J. Lassalle and Paul Bara (among many other pre-pubescent wine darlings) into the U.S. market. Terry Theise took it further in the 1990s, building his entire import portfolio around récoltants-manipulants and evangelizing them to American sommeliers as wines of real terroir, not just brand consistency. No surprise, sommeliers loved the idea. But getting consumers on board with unrecognizable brands, in a moment when Champagne was steakhouse “flex spend” meant to impress your date, was another story — and you can understand why the movement didn’t exactly “pop.” Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

Its moment came in 2008, in the aftermath of the financial crisis, when those with formerly deep pockets and a penchant for big, expensive brand names found themselves bargain hunting in the discount bins. And when consumer needs change, so do sommelier buying decisions.

Consumer —> Sommelier —> Distributor —> Importer

That’s the chain of command. Those responsible for stocking those proverbial bins gave importers their directive, which in turn sparked the natural wine movement and gave the go-ahead to go full-throttle with Grower Champagne.

Before long, growers weren’t just on lists at Michelin-starred restaurants — they were dominating them. The category got the social proof it needed, and today there are north of 2,000 RM producers, which means you can go to pretty much any wine shop these days and easily find a bottle of Grower Champagne.

It’s probably worth noting where the houses fit into all of this. This isn’t a David vs. Goliath story. Not even close. The two live synergistically together in an ecosystem that’s stronger when both categories exist. Each plays a role, or rather several roles, in the dynamic growth of Champagne as a category. For example, growers have helped push the region toward organic and sustainable farming and brought in new, formerly uninterested consumers, while the houses provide the economics for necessary regional marketing, education, and popularization.

Today, Champagne is one of the most popular categories of wine in the world — not because one triumphed over another, but because the two found a way to coexist, broaden the consumer base, and strengthen the quality of the product.

Does Any of This Actually Matter in Your Glass?

I wish I could give you a simple answer in the way I so badly craved one in my early days. Truly.

So I’ll start with the simplest answer, and a caveat. Yes, it can and often does matter. But it’s not going to jump out of the glass and bite you.

Knowing what I know now, I realize winemaking is as much about science as it is about “magic.” Not in the Harry Potter sense, but in the “we just don’t understand why things happen the way they do sometimes” sense. For the truly science-minded, we’d call winemaking “stochastic” — meaning the outcome is shaped by randomness and probability, not something you can predict with total certainty, even when you understand exactly what’s happening. In practice, that plays out as a series of choices and manipulations layered onto a surprisingly uncomplicated formula:

yeast + sugar → alcohol (plus a little CO2 and heat)

The framework is painfully simple: add yeast to grapes (or grape juice), and eventually — usually without much interference — the yeast will consume the sugar and produce an alcoholic beverage we call wine. Repeat that process inside a sealed bottle, and the CO2 has nowhere to go. Which means now you have a wine that’s gone from still to sparkling.

But within that live variables both in and out of our control. For example, we can control when we pick the grapes and understand what they taste like on the vine. But we can’t control or know exactly which flavors will unlock after fermentation. We can age a wine in oak or stainless steel, give the wine a little extra time on the lees, and add various levels of dosage at the end. And in theory we understand how each of those choices will affect a wine. But as Mother Nature gives us a new product every year, a wines reaction to any given input is always subject to vintage variation. And only time will tell how that wine evolves and what it will taste like in 5, 10, or even 20 years.

Which is why the best winemakers prefer to limit, control, and (at the very least) understand those variables to the best of their ability. It doesn’t always guarantee a predicted outcome, but it does tend to narrow the margin of error.

So no, RM doesn’t automatically mean better — plenty of houses make gorgeous, meticulously crafted wine (see Bollinger for details). And not every grower is a great winemaker just because they’re a great farmer. But if a farmer is great at growing grapes and also making wine, that person understands and potentially controls their variables more holistically. They’re making decisions with the entire picture in view and the ability to shift more nimbly if necessary.

For me, Grower Champagne provides a more unique, less predictable experience. For better or for worse. Some of my most memorable wines (especially this year) have been Grower Champagne. But I’d be lying if I told you it isn’t a gamble. Though I have Garth and Cat to thank for increasing my betting odds — see below.

That said, I genuinely love bigger Champagne houses and continue to stock my own personal cellar with the names that you’d recognize — Bollinger, Moët et Chandon, Dom Pérignon, Krug, Taittinger, Ruinart. You get the gist. The beauty of bigger houses is consistency and (at least for all the brands I just mentioned) a reputation that guarantees quality. It doesn’t mean houses won’t surprise you, or that they won’t be interesting or unique. It just means a bit more predictable — like a great movie you love and keep going back to.

It’s also worth understanding that houses tend to operate under a different directive than most growers do. Very often, a house’s bottling decisions are made by a council or collective, and the question they’re answering isn’t just “does this wine reflect terroir?” It’s also “will consumers love this, vintage after vintage?” When you’re making thousands or even hundreds of thousands of bottles, you can understand why there’s a need to appeal to the masses. Especially now that you know what kind of investment has been made to make it in the first place. That’s not the whole story of what goes into a bottle, but it’s a big part of it. Growers don’t really operate that way. Most are small enough — often it’s one person, or one family — that they get to release wines built around a different directive entirely: one that’s free to just reflect the land, whatever that means in a given year, imperfections included.

If you’re the kind of drinker who gets excited about small production, single-vineyard expression, and being able to picture the actual person who made what’s in your glass, that little RM is still your shortcut. It tells you there’s no supply chain between the vine and the bottle — just one grower, farming their own dirt, making their own decisions, start to finish.

If you want to start exploring, head to your favorite wine store or better yet, get yourself to a shop that actually specializes in the category. These days, Grower Champagne’s are easier and easier to find, but the best ones will still live in your specialty stores. The bottle in video actually came from Champagne Happy Hour which is owned and helmed by Garth and Cat, who, as previously mentioned dramatically improved by betting odds on the Grower Champagne front. They’re amazing and in addition to important Grower Champagne’s, have a fantastic online storefront and wine club that stocks truly incredible bottles at a wide range of (very fair) prices. I am not sponsored by them, in fact I’m an active, paying member of their Champagne fanatics club, and I just genuinely love what they do.

Now go forth and impress people at your next dinner party. You’re welcome.

Thanks for reading! I’ll keep this free for as long as I can so subscribe to receive new posts and let me know if you’re enjoying with a comment :)

xx Amanda

Here’s the thing nobody tells you about pairing wine: the food part is only half the assignment. The other half is the room. The mood. The exact emotional temperature of the moment you’re in. A bone-dry Blanc de Blancs doesn’t just go with oysters — it goes with a certain kind of Tuesday. A toasty vintage Champagne doesn’t just go with roast chicken — it goes with the feeling of finally exhaling after a year that kicked your teeth in.

That’s the theory I’ve been building a seminar around for two years now, ever since the first version of this idea — Blockbusters & Bubbles — turned out to be more fun than either the audience or I expected. This year’s sequel of sorts, Films & Fizz, took the same premise and pushed it further with 8 more sparkling wines, 8 more films, and zero traditional food pairings. Just wine and movies, arguing that they’ve been speaking the same emotional language the whole time and nobody bothered to translate.

Here’s what we poured, what we watched, and what happened when the two collided in a room full of strangers in Aspen.

NV Gratien & Meyer Crémant de Loire Brut — paired with Ratatouille

We opened humble on purpose. Crémant de Loire is made in the exact same traditional method as Champagne — same rigor, same second fermentation in the bottle — just from a region in France outside of Champagne. In this case, that region was the Loire Valley and at about $20 a bottle, it wildly overdelivers for the price. So we opened with one of the final scenes in Ratatouille; the moment where Remy is discovered and insists on making Ratatouille for the critic. The head chef is understandably surprised, but as at the critic takes a bite he’s instantly transported straight back to being a kid at his mother’s table. A tear streams down his face and as this is a Disney movie, you can guess how this all ends. It’s a moment of purity, of honesty, and of humility. Just as food doesn’t have to be fancy to transport us, neither does your sparkling wine.

And then, because one wine doing two jobs in one seminar felt efficient (and because the internet is currently divided on whether adding things to your wine is blasphemy) I used this moment to prove a point. With that very same Cremant I made a Hugo 75, a mash-up of the Hugo Spritz and the French 75 crafted by my friend Miguel Buencamino of Holy City Handcraft in collaboration with Empress 1908 Gin. The argument: adding something to wine isn’t adulterating it, it’s enhancing it. Remy proves the same point with a strawberry and a piece of cheese. Alone, great. Together, a revelation.

What you choose to do with your wine is your choice, but should you be interested in testing it out for yourself, here’s the recipe.

NV Bodega Garzón Extra Brut — paired with Pretty Woman

This was the discovery wine, and I mean that literally — most people in that room had never had a sparkling wine from Uruguay, let alone one made by Alberto Antonini that’s 80% Chardonnay and shockingly good for $40-something. The pairing logic: those Rodeo Drive boutiques walked right past Vivian the same way most wine lists walk right past Uruguay. Big mistake, huge.

It’s worth noting that this was a discovery for me as well. A little inside baseball for you, when I get my seminar topics for the Aspen Food & Wine Classic, I typically have quite a few producers and distributors reach out asking about getting their wines included. With only 8 spots to fill, it’s not the easiest task (though I assure you no one should feel bad for me). Often I have some things in mind, but I always reserve a few spots for surprises. This was that surprise. A sample was sent and I opened it blind for my family on Easter. When everyone asked what it was, I knew we had a winner.

2023 Ca’ dei Zago Prosecco Col Fondo — paired with Eat Pray Love

Dolce Far Niente: the sweetness of doing nothing

Before Julia Roberts finds herself in India or falls in love in Bali, she eats and drinks her way through Italy completely guilt-free — and that, it turns out, is the entire personality of a good Col Fondo Prosecco. Prosecco is a wine designed to be fun and frivolous. And while this isn’t the style of Prosecco most are familiar with, it does practice the same religion. It’s cloudy, unfiltered, fermented the old way in a family cellar that’s been doing this since 1924. Just like that impossibly simple pasta dish you ate in Rome that lives rent free in your head, this Prosecco tastes like pure joy that hasn’t been asked to apologize for itself.

Col Fondo if you’re unfamiliar is a style of Prosecco that delivers a completely different profile because of how it’s made. Instead of doing the secondary fermentation in stainless steel tanks, it’s done inside the bottle and never disgorged. The result is a slightly cloudy, occasionally a little tart slightly sparkling wine that’s delightful with a nibble of cheese. And this producer is simply one of the best making it. With vines that average 50 years in age planted at 250 meters above sea level, and old-clone Glera (the grape) blended with indigenous varieties like Verdiso and Perera, this is is not your ordinary Prosecco.

2022 Kosta Browne Keefer Ranch Blanc de Blancs — paired with Legally Blonde

Kosta Browne built an entire cult following on Pinot Noir with the kind of allocation list people wait years for. So when they decided to make a sparkling wine for the first time ever made entirely from Chardonnay, it was a bit of an eyebrow raise. A bit like the Sorority president of Delta Nu going to Harvard Law.

Like Elle Woods, Kosta Browne walked into a category no one expected them to and landed at the top of the class. The wine is serious but fun in that way only California’s Russian River Valley can make happen. Before kicking off the secondary fermentation in bottle (a la Champagne), the chardonnay is 80% barrel fermented and 20% foudre fermented which helps to broaden that richness we love so much from the region. After fermentation it spends a full 2 more years on the lees to really let that toasty, nutty, gala apple character develop.

And though this sparkling wine is decidedly not pink, should you get your hands on this very allocated bottling you’ll find she shines like a sparkly pink rhinestone.

Bollinger PN TX20 — paired with Casino Royale

This one didn’t need a metaphor and I didn’t build one. Bollinger has been Bond’s Champagne since the 1970s, and PN TX20 — a single-vintage, 100% Pinot Noir cuvée from the village of Tauxières — is one I actually had recently while in Champagne so it seemed like a natural fit. The connection makes itself here and frankly it would be a crime to drink any other sparkling wine — though a Vesper martini would also be an acceptable choice. Sometimes the job isn’t finding the clever angle. It’s getting out of the way.

2015 Henriot Brut Millésimé — paired with The Devil Wears Prada

Henriot doesn’t shout. It’s been quietly perfecting itself since 1808, when a young widow named Apolline Henriot decided that if no one was going to build something with her name on it, she would. Two centuries later, that’s still the whole personality of the house — chardonnay-driven, exacting, completely unbothered. This vintage cuvée from the 2015 vintage is a near equal blend of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay and feels like the kind of quiet, sophisticated luxury Miranda Priestly could get behind. Henriot doesn’t have to ask for anyone’s attention. It just has it. Plus, fittingly, just like in this film the women have always been in charge. That’s all.

NV Gosset Zéro Dosage (base wine 2013) — paired with Good Will Hunting

This was the one I was nervous about, and the one that ended up landing the hardest. Gosset is the oldest wine house in Champagne — founded in 1584 — and this particular release is their first-ever zero dosage cuvée: no sugar added after disgorgement, nothing to round off the edges. With base grapes from the 2013 vintage and a whopping 10 years of lees aging, there were a few different directions I could have gone…but ultimately I kept coming back to Good Will Hunting. Here’s why:

There’s two things you can never fully account for with wine —

1. What time does to it

2. How you’ll feel the moment you drink it

What I mean is, I can tell you that with age, Champagne develops nutty, toasty aromas, that it can lose some of its bubbles — but I can’t tell you exactly what nuance will show up in any given bottle. Wines are shaped by their environment and impossible to truly predict. Sort of like people, factors like the year we were born, the people who raised us, the ones who stayed all make a difference. And while you can read about how Champagne’s turn nutty and caramel like as they age, I can’t say for certain what nuances might emerge. Just like I can’t tell you what memory will come up for you when smell those nuances. For example, the smell of caramel popcorn conjures feelings of fun, and freedom as a kid on the boardwalk begging my parents for a goldfish. But for you, the smell of caramel popcorn, might trigger say vomiting on the gravitron and intense regret for having consumed a hot dog moments before. The point is, there’s no real substitute for an actual lived experience. You can sit in a room like this one and learn a lot about it secondhand. But reading about an experience and living it are two different things, the same way reading Oliver Twist will never actually tell you what it felt like to be an orphan. Robin William’s character in Good Will Hunting reminds us of that in the famous park bench scene and I thought the parallel was too good to ignore.

As this particular Gosset zero dosage, it’s transparent, vulnerable, and there to show you exactly who it is. But it won’t give you everything all at once. Such is the nature of these complicated wines, it forces you to work for it a bit by taking your time and not forcing the issue. It’s the thing I love the most about this wine, and also about this film.

2007 J Schram Late Disgorged — paired with Field of Dreams

We closed with the wine that took the longest to get to us — seventeen years on the lees before Schramsberg ever let it out of the cave. Field of Dreams is a movie about patience, about building something on faith that the payoff might not arrive for years, maybe not in your lifetime at all. Schramsberg has been making that exact bet since 1965, when Jack and Jamie Davies decided Napa could do serious sparkling wine — a bet that paid off in 1972, when their Blanc de Blancs became the first American wine ever served at a state dinner, at Nixon’s “Toast to Peace” in Beijing. You can’t rush something like that. You can only wait for it, and then pour it for a room that has no idea what they’re about to taste.

Two years into this format and I still don’t have a tidy theory of why it works, except that it does. Wine doesn’t live in a vacuum any more than a movie does — both of them are asking you to feel something specific, on purpose, and the more honest pairing isn’t always about what’s on the plate. Sometimes it’s about what’s on the screen, or what year you were born, or who mopped the floors at MIT.

If you were in the room in Aspen — thank you for drinking seriously and laughing easily, which is a harder combination to find than people think. If you weren’t, there’s always next year’s lineup to argue about.

Mentioned in this piece:

Gratien & Meyer · Bodega Garzón · Ca’ dei Zago · Kosta Browne · Champagne Bollinger · Champagne Henriot · Champagne Gosset · Schramsberg Vineyards (J Schram) · Holy City Handcraft (Miguel Buencamino, for the Hugo 75)

I can’t say for certain why I didn’t visit Champagne sooner. Maybe it was a “don’t meet your heroes” kind of thing. As someone who claims it as her favorite beverage, the region had a lot to live up to. Or perhaps it was the weather. Champagne falls dramatically short of Tuscany’s heaping sunshine. Notorious for gray skies and a chilly, slightly unpredictable climate that might offer a glimpse of rays here and there, Champagne makes and keeps no promises. And then there’s the reputation. Located just a stone’s throw from Paris and the glitz of the Place Vendôme, Champagne’s reputation as the fancy, cool, eldest sister of the wine regions has always felt intimidating in a way that Napa or Paso never did. Throw in the fact that my French is unremarkable at best, and you can understand why visiting one of the most storied wine regions in the world felt like… a lot.

TLDR: despite Champagne sitting firmly at the top of my wine region bucket list, I had somehow reached 39 without making it happen.

And then Bollinger called.

Two weeks before their big cellar reveal and the celebration of the new vintage of La Grande Année, with a dinner cooked by Troisgros (three Michelin stars, in case you were wondering), they wanted to know if I might like to fly over. The answer was an obvious and easy yes. So when they offered me the option to extend on either side, I knew exactly what to do. I flew in a day early for a proper Paris arrival, and stayed a few extra days after so I could experience Champagne on my own. No chaperone, no plus one. Just me, a driver, and my crappy French.

So if you’re wondering how to do Paris and Champagne in one fell swoop, this is your guide.

🗼 Paris

🍷 Landing Day

Les Enfants du Marché

Start here. Seriously, if you’re landing on a Sunday, make this your first stop. Fair warning: it’s weirdly hard to find. Google Maps will make it look like a restaurant on a street, but it’s actually inside a covered Parisian market called Marché des Enfants Rouges. Once you pass through the iron gate, you’ll know you’re in the right place.

Les Enfants du Marché had been at the top of my list for a while and is a favorite of Action Bronson and TopJaw, which … if you know, you know. We got lucky and found two spots at the bar right around 3:30pm on a Sunday, but I’m told that’s not always the case. If you have to wait, there are plenty of other spots in the market to bounce around to in the meantime. The vibe is chaotic and fun, exactly the thing you need to lean into the whiplash of time-traveling to Paris and the perfect way to jettison your jet lag.

It runs until 5pm only, which means no reservations, no menus, no fuss. We ordered the caviar tart on our own (highly recommend) and the foie gras with eel at the advice of our server who claimed “it is life changing.” He told no lies. I’m still thinking about it.

As for the wine: they pour exclusively natural wines and the move is to simply tell them what color you’re in the mood for and let them guide you from there. No overthinking. They’re all delightful and likely nothing you’ve ever heard of or seen before. Lean into the adventure.

🚪 Little Red Door

Though Paris feels very “Champagne-coded,” cocktail culture has become increasingly more interesting here in the last decade. Sure, Paris’s complicated relationship with ice (the frozen cubes, to be clear) may still be a red flag, but it shouldn’t stop you from entering the Little Red Door in the Marais.

Located at 60 Rue Charlot just around the corner from Les Enfants du Marché, it has appeared on the World’s 50 Best Bars list every year since 2013, peaking at No. 6 in 2023. Oui, really.

You can risk it for the biscuit as a walk-in, but if you want an actual reservation book the pre-paid cocktail tasting menu. The price of admission includes a welcome drink plus six tasting-sized cocktails and honestly, I’m not sure I’d do it any other way. Everything is sourced locally (think: farm-to-cocktail, not farm-to-table), the menu rotates seasonally around a conceptual theme, and the cocktails are decidedly not what you’d order at your neighborhood bar. They’re imaginative, playful, and tiny enough that you can actually taste your way through all of them without fear of missing your dinner reservations.

Our bartender was wonderful, warm, fun, and genuinely passionate about what she was pouring. And if speaking French isn’t your forte, don’t worry. She spoke perfect English so that we could ask all the geeky questions about each of our cocktails.

🎵 Studio Mule at Ogata

I questioned whether to include this since it was a limited-run concept during Paris Fashion Week, but it’s worth keeping an eye on. Studio Mule, one of my absolute favorite places to drink wine in Tokyo, did a pop-up at Ogata in Paris, and if they do it again (or anything like it), drop everything and go. They did make a dedicated Instagram for it, so you never know.

Here’s what makes Studio Mule special: the owner runs a record label, so music is taken as seriously as the wine. They bring in a proper hi-fi sound system, lean toward discovery wines and rare classics you rarely see by the glass (in Tokyo they poured the elusive Gravner; in Paris they had Rhône cult-favorite Domaine Gramenon), and very often only have one bottle of each so the selection rotates like their vinyl.

🐌 Le Colimaçon

As previously noted, Sundays and Mondays are tricky in Paris as many places are closed. Le Colimaçon, located just a short walk from Ogata and Little Red Door, is the rare gem open 7 days a week. It’s quintessentially French with classics like snail chips and steak frites, and a vibe that feels perfectly Parisian. It’s the execution that earns it a spot on this list. Plus with Champagne Bollinger by the glass for €16, it’s objectively a steal.

Reservations recommended.

🛍 Day 2: Morning in Paris

Rue de Nil & Where to Shop

One of my favorite streets in Paris is less of a street and more of an alley. Think Diagon Alley for bon vivants: a boulangerie making (IMO) the finest croissants in the city, a chocolate shop, a fromagerie, a coffee shop that actually knows how to pull an espresso, and the full suite of restaurants from the ever-popular Frenchie group. Unfortunately most of this is closed on Mondays, so plan accordingly.

• Boulangerie-Pâtisserie Terroirs d’Avenir

• Plaq Chocolate

• Frenchie Bar à Vins

• L’Arbre à Café

When it comes to shopping you really have unlimited options in Paris, from French pharmacies to appointments at Hermès.

On this trip I made a beeline for The Row. They only have a handful of stores worldwide, each one unique, and this was one of the few where I found the elusive Margaux bag actually in stock and available for purchase. Worth a special trip if quiet luxury is your vibe. The quality is extraordinary, the store itself is a study in restraint and beauty, and yes, it is a splurge. But you’re in Paris.

Other favorites: Frédéric Malle (Eau de Magnolia is my go-to scent), La Bonne Brosse (my favorite brush, ever), and Jacques Solovière (I have a pair of white leather sneakers from him that are still, quite literally, kicking).

On the McDonald’s situation: I will not be taking questions, but I will say that a slightly hungover Monday morning with a French McDonald’s is a completely underrated experience (they deliver to your table and there’s a curry dipping sauce). Zero percent sorry.

🍽 Trusted not Vetted

Below are places that come highly recommended by people whose taste I trust, but I have not personally been.

Wine Bars

• Septime La Cave

• Le Vin au Vert

Restaurants

• Le Clown Bar

• Clamato

• La Renommée

• Verjus

• Early June

• Le Rigmarole

🏨 Where to Stay in Paris

• InterContinental Paris Le Grand

• J.K. Place Paris

• The Hoxton Paris

• Hôtel Maison Mère (great option if you’re watching the budget)

A Few Things to Know Before You Go

Sundays and Mondays are exceedingly tricky. Many places are closed on one if not both days. Plan around this early.

Your hotel location sets the tone. I love to walk in Paris so I try to stay somewhere between the 1st and 11th arrondissements, where the majority of my favorite spots are. Hotel recs at the bottom of this post.

This is a reservations city. I know Paris feels very laissez-faire, but don’t be deceived by her carefree attitude. Dinner and lunch spots book up fast and walking in anywhere these days is increasingly hard. Unless otherwise noted, plan ahead.

Watch your stuff. I love Paris and find it to be mostly safe, but the pickpocketing situation is very real. I’ve personally been followed while walking with my husband, watched someone’s phone get snatched by a guy on a scooter, and consoled a girl in a café who turned around to find her bag gone. These guys are pros. Keep your eyes up and your phone away as much as possible.

Along the same lines: separate your forms of ID and credit cards. Don’t keep everything on you at once. For shopping you’ll want your passport for the VAT refund, so keep that and one card (or use your phone) and leave your driver’s license and extra cards in the room safe. If you have Apple devices, make sure you have a way to quickly lock a stolen device. And don’t keep your hotel key in the envelope with the room number on it.

🍾 Champagne

Getting to Champagne from Paris is criminally easy — anywhere from 40-90min (see below for options). So if you’re in Paris for more than 48 hours, you really have no excuse. Even if you never venture out of Reims into the actual vineyards, seeing Champagne in person is a religious experience.

What surprised me most, even knowing what I knew going in, was how different Champagne feels from any other wine destination I’ve visited. It’s quiet, rolling, and deeply beautiful, with vineyards stretching in every direction and villages that look essentially unchanged from a hundred years ago. And beneath all of that pastoral calm: some of the most extraordinary wines in the world, made by people who will pour them for you in their cellar if you’re lucky enough to get in the door.

The train is the cheapest and speediest option. That said, due to luggage and the fact that I was traveling solo, I opted for the slightly easier (and admittedly more expensive) car service. Once you’re there, you’ll want a car or driver (I recommend Kevin at Allo VTC Reims) if you’re staying outside the city centers and want to explore the actual wine-growing region. A few friends recommended renting a car and I cannot stress to you enough how much I advise against this, having now been there. Ubers and taxis are available, though waits can be lengthy depending on where you are and what time it is.

• Train to Reims: 40 minutes, direct from Paris (Champagne-Ardenne TGV station)

• Train to Épernay: about 80 minutes, direct from Paris

• Car: roughly 90 minutes

🏨 Where to Stay

Two options, both wonderful, very different energy:

Royal Champagne Hotel & Spa …

…is unreal. I don’t say that lightly. And I’m sorry but the photos just do not do it justice. This is genuinely one of the most exceptional hotel experiences I’ve had. The rooms are enormous and impeccably appointed (Bernardaud china, Dyson hair dryers, the works), and virtually every room has a sweeping balcony with an epic view over the vineyards. The design is thoughtful in that way where everything feels effortless, and the service is the kind that predicts what you need before you ask. When you did ask for something, it arrived on a tray, thoughtfully presented, immediately. Everything was a pleasant “oui” — a detail that, I’m told by their American owners, is very much part of the hotel culture they’ve designed there. Having worked hospitality for the majority of my adult life, you can feel when a team is well-supported and happy, and that’s very much the case at Royal Champagne.

La Bellevue, their more casual restaurant, was where I had breakfast every morning and a few very happy lunches. Equally fantastic, just with more sunlight and a lighter touch.

Le Royal, their Michelin-starred restaurant, was exceptional. I loved every bite, but if I’m being honest, the star of the show that evening was the Mysteries of Champagne experience with head sommelier Philippe Marques. Specially bottled, exclusive cuvées of various Champagnes are poured side by side to illustrate where the variables exist within winemaking: aging, dosage, assemblage, and so on. Even the smallest shift can make a huge difference, and experiencing that firsthand was one of the most eye-opening things I’ve ever done as a Champagne lover.

The Spa, I’m glad I had the foresight to dedicate an entire day to it and I highly recommend you do the same. In addition to the myBlend facial that rendered me glowy on a gloomy day…

I relaxed in their glorious indoor pool adorned with plush daybeds around the perimeter. A glass wall offering a perfect, nearly unobstructed view of the region might tempt you to keep your eyes open, but you shouldn’t fight the urge to snooze. Champagne is, fittingly, everywhere at this hotel and they had a fantastic list available by the glass even poolside. On nicer days the heated outdoor infinity pool is magical, and even though it was cold and rainy I did take a dip. I swapped between dips in the hot tub and naps by the pool and it was, genuinely, one of the best days I’ve had in recent memory.

Loisium Wine & Spa Hotel

A strong runner-up. Though significantly smaller and less extravagant, it was genuinely lovely, and my corner room had a sweeping terrace overlooking the vineyards. Loisium also has a dedicated spa: sauna, steam room, hammam, a large relaxation room with beds overlooking the vineyards, and an outdoor heated pool you can access from indoors (a thoughtful touch when Champagne is doing what Champagne does, which is often mist and grey skies and a chill that makes you want to never leave). It’s a calmer, more low-key experience than Royal Champagne, which depending on what you’re after, might be exactly what you want.

Staying in Reims: Though I didn’t stay in Reims, it’s a great base if you’re going for just a day or two. There’s a relatively new Autograph Collection hotel (La Caserne Chanzy Hotel & Spa) right next to the cathedral, and several Champagne houses are located downtown so you won’t even need a car. Don’t skip Sacre Burger (details further below) which is an absolute institution in these parts.

🏰 The Houses: Bollinger & Ayala

Bollinger is a classic for a reason. Based in Aÿ, it’s one of the great houses, still family-owned, still doing things the old way, and visiting right now is particularly exciting because they’re in the middle of a significant renovation. While the original cellar takes you on a journey back to Bollinger’s earliest days in the 1800s, the brand new barrel room is a more modern, perfectly woven-in architectural flex. Glass-walled and overlooking their most prized Clos Saint-Jacques vineyard, it’s a great reminder that Bollinger is as relevant today as it is committed to world-class winemaking. The caves stretch over 6km, so don’t get lost. A favorite of Queen Victoria and James Bond, they’ll likely have things there you can’t get at home. If you spot La Côte aux Enfants, it’s well worth trying to snag a taste.

Ayala, also in Aÿ, is Bollinger’s sister house and has been one of my personal favorites for over a decade. Quieter, more intimate, a classic Champagne house visit in the best sense. Don’t skip it just because it’s less famous. The wines are wonderful and well-priced, and their light-up map on the floor of the cellar is one of my favorite winery touches to date.

🌿 The Grower Producers: Where It Gets Really Good

The Champagne world is broadly divided into two categories: Grower and House. And no, you don’t have to choose.

If you’ve never explored grower Champagne, here’s the quick version: these are producers who grow their own grapes, make their own wine, and bottle it themselves. In most of the winemaking world, this would be completely unremarkable. In Champagne, it’s very much a phenomenon of the present. For hundreds of years, those who grew the grapes (the growers) and those who produced the wines (the houses) remained separate but collaborative entities. The growers farmed their grapes, sold them to the houses, and the houses blended them into their various cuvées. The system largely worked (with the notable exception of the Champagne Riots in the early 1900s) and is how many of the world’s most famous brands became what they are.

But over time, the cracks showed. Discontented with the fact that their grapes were merely being blended in with everything else, a handful of growers began crafting their own cuvées to highlight their own vineyards and give them their due. By the early 2000s, “farmer fizz” and “grower Champagne” began circulating the wine world with growing regularity, and soon it was no longer a niche thing — it was a full movement, embraced by the world’s most serious collectors. In the world of wine, this makes complete sense. The world’s most expensive bottles are often from single vineyards, crafted by the same people who own and tend to their vines, with complete control from start to finish.

Today, grower Champagne is as ubiquitous as Napa Cab. True aficionados understand the importance and value, and grower Champagne now represents a meaningful and growing fraction of what’s produced in the region.

To be clear: we love both houses and growers, for different reasons. Just as not every house is great, not every grower is great. Some people have better skill sets than others, and maybe some should just stick to farming. But if you’re in the region, it’s a great opportunity to try a few and see what moves you.

A quick tip before we dive in: if you need a Champagne mentor, look up Garth Hodgdon. Former head sommelier at The French Laundry and Per Se, followed by a stint as the US Ambassador for Krug, he and his wife are now running their own Grower Champagne-only import company. Garth is one of the most knowledgeable and genuinely enthusiastic Champagne people I know. I’m personally a member of his wine club, Champagne Happy Hour, and can attest that his recommendations and selections are always perfection.

Growers I Visited

Paul Launois has been a favorite of mine for years, so when a last-minute change of plans landed me in their cellar, I couldn’t have been more excited. The love affair began when Master Sommelier Desi Echevarrie started importing Paul Launois through his company, Scale Wine Group. The sell was a no-brainer: third-generation stewards of 6.5 hectares of Chardonnay in the Grand Cru village of Le Mesnil-sur-Oger, doing it as a grower-producer, at a fraction of the price of their neighbors.

The estate was everything I hoped it would be. The winery was purchased (somewhat by accident) in 2013, and sits just behind Krug’s famous Clos du Mesnil vineyard. It’s a true family business: Julien Launois makes the wine, and his wife Sarah uses her artistic genius to design the labels and boxes — her artwork is for sale at the estate and makes a wonderful souvenir that’s actually easy to transport. As for Paul, Julien and Sarah’s son isn’t quite old enough to helm the business yet, but that was the hope when they named the place after him.

Taste through everything they’ll let you and marvel at how different Champagne can be, even when it’s made entirely from the same grape (in this case, Chardonnay). Several cuvées are imported into the US, but not everything makes it over. Stock up if you find something you love.

Domaine Mea was a new discovery for me, recommended by Garth, and it absolutely earned its place on this list. Like Paul Launois, Domaine Mea is a family-owned and run business spanning five continuous generations of winemaking in the Grand Cru village of Louvois.

Sophie runs it with her husband Franck, and the vibe is very low-key in the best way. It’s all about the farming here, done without herbicides or pesticides (no easy feat in Champagne), with vines primarily planted to Pinot Noir. I won’t say too much because part of the joy is going in with fresh eyes, but know that it’s the kind of producer whose wines you’ll spend the next year trying to track down.

Hatt et Söner was a last-minute addition to the itinerary and a brand new producer to me — one I’m finding still very much flies under the radar. Their focus is a unique one, with much of it centered around something they call “personal vintage.” Under this program, clients can create their own private label Champagne and go through all the same steps a winemaker would, from blends to dosage trials. Pricing can vary, but it runs around $110 per bottle with a minimum purchase of 60 bottles or 30 magnums. A pretty interesting business model, and of course you can also taste and purchase their own cuvées while you’re there.

Agrapart Avize

Ask any grower Champagne enthusiast and Agrapart will surely be near the top of their list. But that’s not quite the Agrapart we’re talking about today.

There are now two Agraparts: Agrapart (formerly known as Agrapart et Fils) and Agrapart Avize. The latter is a bold new undertaking from Fabrice Agrapart, who departed the family business he helped make famous to create a brand new legacy. Only one of the three wines has been released at present (Atoma), but I got a sneak peek while sitting down with Fabrice and can only say: they will be worth the wait. The wines are extraordinary, and I’m honestly glad it was the last visit of my trip. Like his previous venture, Agrapart Avize is strictly organic in its farming practices, and it shows. The precision in the glass is unmatched. Having been lucky enough to taste with Fabrice himself, I can attest to a truly unique style of winemaking and an out-of-the-box approach that has always made Agrapart a name worth knowing.

Getting a visit right now is not easy, but that should change in the coming years. A winery, hotel, and restaurant are all in the works as part of this new chapter for Fabrice. Stay tuned.

🍽 Eating in Épernay & Reims

Sacré Bistro in Épernay is a genuine gem. Great food, a Champagne list that is both exceptional and very well-priced, and exactly the kind of neighborhood bistro energy that makes you want to stay for one more glass. I had a bottle of Champagne Delalot Rosé de Saignée with the mushroom appetizer and a burger, which sounds casual but was one of the better food-and-Champagne pairings of the trip. Sacré Burger, their sister spot in Reims, is equally iconic and not to be missed.

A Few More Notes for the Champagne Region

• Get a car or arrange a driver. The grower producers are often small and spread across multiple villages, and public transportation will limit you significantly. Do not rent a car.

• Email ahead for appointments, ideally weeks in advance. Some producers require significant lead time and personal introductions. Don’t just show up.

• Stay at least two nights (if you’re not doing a day trip to Reims). One day feels rushed; two gives you the space to actually breathe and taste without sprinting between appointments.

• The weather is moody. Champagne is not Provence. Pack a layer, embrace the gray, and remember that the cold and the damp are part of what makes this place taste the way it does.

• Trust the Somm. There’s a lot of Champagne that never makes it to the US. Avoid ordering what you know and rely on the sommeliers to guide you to new discoveries. That bottle of Delalot Rose de Saignee Champagne recommended at Sacre Bistro was perfection, but I’ll probably never see it again.

• Coteaux Champenois. Along the same lines as above, believe it or not still (meaning non-bubbly) wines are produced in Champagne and they can be extraordinary but elusive. Mostly it will be Pinot Noir since we almost never see them in the states, I’d urge you to seek one out.

It’s been interesting writing this piece over the last few weeks. With all the travel I do, I’m often asked “what’s your favorite region to visit?” and I’m finding that answer is now “Champagne.” It strikes me as funny coming from a person who thrives in great weather that I’d be so eager to return to Champagne. Out of the 5 days I had there, only 2 had sun. But similar to the way I feel about Paris, Champagne sort of makes you work for it. It makes you appreciate the sunshine when it peeks out and offers context for why this region struggles so much with making wine. Weather is a real factor here, but when the reward is Champagne, I’m willing to brave the elements.

Thanks for reading! If you found this helpful, or if you’ve been to any of these spots and want to compare notes, hit reply. I read everything.

Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

Every year I get asked for gift ideas for the wine lover in your life. And while yes, I am a wine-focused creator, allow me to let you in on a little secret: people who love wine usually care about more than just what’s in their glass. They travel. They cook. They host. They cozy up. They obsess over gear. They attempt to be outdoorsy. They read. They enjoy life with the same enthusiasm they bring to opening a great bottle.

So this year’s guide reflects that. These are the products I personally own, use, abuse, gift, and have tested for over the past year (and in many cases, much longer). No filler, no “must-haves” that I’ve only ever seen in an Instagram ad. These are the real deal.

Pour yourself something festive and let’s shop.

For the Wine Lover Who Already Has Everything (Except These)

Panier LUCA 4-Bottle Carrier

The Range Rover Defender of wine totes, this thing has quickly become my ride-or-die for its chic, sturdy, ultra-functional design. Which tracks, since the company was founded by an actual wine professional.

Imagine your job is selling super high-end wines in NYC to sommeliers in ultra-premium restaurants. Sounds glamorous… until you realize those wines have to be schlepped to dozens of accounts across Manhattan — on the subway. We’re talking sometimes thousands of dollars in bottles bouncing around during rush hour.

So when flimsy bags kept betraying him (including one catastrophic day that cost him a few priceless bottles) Nic Bradley finally snapped. And instead of accepting his fate, he made the wine bag he wished he’d had all those years pounding the pavement.

Lucky for us, he also made the wine bag of our dreams. I’m a fan of the 4-bottle carrier which comfortably fits four 750ml bottles (including the weirdly-shaped ones), has multiple pockets and flaps for erroneous wine keys, and can endure whatever chaos I put them through. Read the specs on this thing and see for yourself. They’ve truly thought of everything and once you have one you’ll wonder why you ever chanced it with that Wegmans bag.

Le Nez du Vin Aroma Kit

A training tool for your nose… and your ego. Even seasoned pros get humbled by this kit. It’s fun, it’s educational, and it’s the perfect gift for the friend who secretly (or not so secretly) wants to be a sommelier.

One of the most common frustrations I hear is, “I smell the wine, but I can’t name anything until someone else says it.” And my response is always the same: your nose isn’t broken — you just haven’t been trained to connect a scent to the word for it.

When we’re kids, we get endless practice linking other senses to language. You hear “moo,” you say “cow.” You touch velvet, you say “soft.” But smell and taste? We don’t get that same repetition. And since we’re not actually seeing blueberries or violets floating in our glass, it’s no wonder our brains struggle to label what we’re smelling.

That’s where an aroma kit comes in. Sommeliers use them like flashcards — real, physical scent anchors you can practice with until those connections become instant. It’s one of the most effective tools for building aroma confidence, and honestly, one of the most fun. The kits are beautifully crafted enough to fit nicely on a bookshelf or coffee table and widely considered the “industry standard.”

Code38 Wine Key

The Rolex of wine keys. Beautifully engineered, truly hand-crafted, and absolutely a lifetime piece. This is the tool that ruins all other wine keys for you.

You might be wondering, “Is it really worth the money?” And the answer is, unequivocally, yes. Think of it like a chef’s knife. Plenty of knives look the same, but once you’re using one daily, you realize ergonomics, balance, and precision completely change the experience. The Code38 is the wine-world equivalent.

I’ve had mine for over five years and it’s still as perfect as the day I got it. Some die-hard double-hinge fans will point out that this is a single lever, but the moment you use it, you understand: the double hinge was a workaround for bad design. When the engineering is right, you don’t need it. Corks glide up effortlessly with far less risk of breaking and it’s almost meditative.

Perfect for the serious wine lover or anyone who appreciates real craftsmanship.And here’s the wild part: every single component, down to the screws, is hand-crafted by one guy in Australia who is as detail-obsessed as they come. The price tag is high, but once you use it, you understand exactly where that money went.

The Durand

If they drink mature bottles, they need this. Period. This is the only tool that has never failed me on fragile corks. It’s a splurge that genuinely feels like a superpower.

The Durand is a one-of-a-kind hybrid: the worm of a traditional wine key + the two prongs of an ah-so = a 360-degree cork-removal vortex that old bottles don’t stand a chance against. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve used it and not had a perfect removal — and as someone who has opened thousands of old bottles in her career, those are some pretty spectacular stats.

The (very litigious) founder’s patent is locked up tighter than a DRC allocation, so there are no dupes, no knockoffs, no budget versions. If you want the magic, you buy the real thing.

But in the wine world, a seamless lift of a fragile decades-old cork? That’s worth its weight in gold.

VinSling

Some wine tools are purely functional, others are purely beautiful — the VinSling is both. It’s part design object, part problem-solver.

In my PRESS days, wine cradles were essential. We opened bottles from the 60s, 70s, 80s on a nightly basis, and keeping them horizontal while pouring was crucial. Older wines develop sediment along the side of the bottle, so standing them upright mixes everything back into the juice — and not every wine wants to be decanted. A cradle solved that instantly and elegantly.

The VinSling is the first fully configurable wine cradle on the market, with interchangeable handcrafted leather slings and multiple base colors so you can match the look to the bottle, the room, or your general aesthetic ambitions. You can pour directly from it, it displays beautifully, and it works just as well for the savvy collector as it does for someone who just wants their favorite bottle to look fabulous on the table.

Form and function, finally in the same sentence.

Cos d’Estournel 2015 Gift Box

For the giftee who deserves a moment they absolutely won’t see coming. And honestly, Bordeaux is having its moment too.

Gifting wine is tricky. Bottles are personal, subjective, and loaded with taste preferences. So when you do gift wine, it needs to feel thoughtful — a little special, a little elevated. When I heard Cos d’Estournel was releasing a rare, cellar-aged 3pk of their exceptional 2015 vintage, it caught my attention. It comes direct from the château in its original wooden case (the OWC), which is basically the wine equivalent of arriving in couture.

At this age, you can comfortably drink one now and save the other two for future, highly celebratory moments. It’s the perfect balance of immediate gratification and long-game luxury.

And as for Bordeaux itself… there is just something so classic and sophisticated that I’m genuinely obsessed with right now. While everyone else chases what’s new and edgy and natural, Bordeaux continues serving Chanel-level elegance and timelessness. Just the other night I opened a 2009 Chateau Montrose that was absolutely STUNNING, and since the pricing has also been surprisingly steady compared to the meteoric rise of Champagne and Burgundy, it makes this an especially savvy splurge.

Cos d’Estournel also has a personal place in my heart. It was the very first château I visited on my very first trip to Bordeaux back in 2015. I fell in love with it then, and it’s stayed firmly on my radar a decade later for being a classic that’s unafraid to iterate.

Plus, that gift box? It’s giving “I did not pick this up at the grocery store” energy while still being a light lift in the effort department. Wins all around.

For the Wine Lover Who Likes to Read, Learn, and Have Opinions

Books I Actually Recommend (Because I Actually Read Them)

Each of these scratches a different itch — education, storytelling, inspiration — and all three authors were on my podcast this year, so you can get to know them even better through those conversations.

Rebel School of Wine – Tyler Balliet

Written by self-proclaimed wine rebel Tyler Balliet, this has become one of my go-to recommendations for anyone curious about wine but not interested in reading a college-level textbook. It’s packed with great diagrams, real-life metaphors, and the kind of explanations that make wine feel instantly more approachable. Tyler’s tone is refreshing, fun, and a giant middle finger to the stodgier corners of the wine world — in the absolute best way.

A Season for That – Steve Hoffman

When this memoir landed on Eric Asimov’s year-end list in 2024, I immediately added it to my cart with zero context. It ended up transporting me straight to the south of France, where Steve Hoffman moves his family from the Midwest for a season of food, wine, adaptation, and self-discovery. It’s honest, charming, and beautifully human — like Eat Pray Love, but more believable… and with far more eating and drinking, far less praying.

How to Be a Better Drinker – Hannah Chamberlain (@spiritedLA)

I still remember screenshotting the notification that Hannah followed me on TikTok and sending it to my sister like a fan girl. Her calm, witty, slightly sinister cocktail humor is unmatched. When she announced her book, I immediately reached out to have her on the show (she’s even more delightful offline). And when my copy arrived, I lost hours to it. Seriously. It’s a uniquely educational, stylishly written guide that blends real, usable cocktail tips with Hannah’s signature wit and wonderfully dry charm.

For the Wine Lover on the Go

High Camp Parkside Flask for Wine

I’ll admit that when I was gifted this earlier this year, my immediate instinct was a full-body eye roll. I loathe 99% of products like this. A wine flask that fits an entire bottle with dual tumblers attached to the ends reads cheesy and unnecessary. And what heck even is “sommelier-grade steel”? But then, on one fateful summer day, I decided to curb my cynicism and actually try it. To my complete and utter shock, I fell in love with the damn thing.

It’s beautifully designed, feels genuinely high-end, and that “sommelier-grade steel” accomplished something no other insulated vessel has ever managed: it didn’t make my wine (or my mouth) taste metallic. **Jury’s still on whether “sommelier-grade steel” is a real thing **

I’m obsessed with the magnetized tumblers which snap satisfyingly onto either side, the pour spout is flawless, and even after I left it sitting directly in 95-degree sun for hours, the wine inside refused to change temperature. Witchcraft. I’ve used it for everything from sparkling wine to red and have recommended it to anyone who will listen.

In short, this is your insulated, stylish, outdoors-friendly way to enjoy wine anywhere glass isn’t welcome – think boats, parks, concerts, hiking, après-ski. It handles it all without leaking, oxidizing, or compromising the flavor of what you actually want to drink. 10/10

Aged & Ore Bottle Caddy + Bottle Flight Set

Adding to the list of “things I never knew I needed,” Aged & Ore has been a favorite of my whiskey-and-bourbon-obsessed brother-in-law for ages. It kept popping up in videos from some of my favorite cocktail creators (including Hannah Chamberlain, who even collaborated with them recently) and eventually, curiosity won.

The bottle caddy is less protective than the Panier, but it’s sturdy, compact, and great for outdoor adventures where things have a tendency to tip over; think boating, picnics, patio hangouts, me at a Champagne soiree. But the real pièce de résistance is the Bottle Flight Set. You can use it for wine thanks to the glass bottles wrapped in a silicone protective sleeve… but its true magic, at least for me, is batching cocktails.

I’ll make four negronis, pop them into the flight bottles, and pour over ice wherever we are out in the wild. The carrying case is sleek, practical, and weirdly satisfying to use. I genuinely can’t say enough good things about it.

If they’re the type to bring bottles to dinner, on vacation, or for weekend getaways, this set is absolute chef’s kiss — TSA-friendly, protective, and beautifully designed.

For the Wine Lover Who Knows Good Wine needs Good Food

Flannery Beef Gift Boxes

If you know, you know. And if you don’t, go listen to my recent podcast episode with Katie Flannery. Flannery was the exclusive beef at PRESS for years, and over the last decade they’ve gone from Bay Area cult favorite to international icon. Their beef is legendary among chefs, sommeliers, and (as I recently learned on the podcast) renowned wine critics like Robert Parker.

The gift boxes are an instant wow for anyone who loves to cook or entertain. It’s a simple click–buy–ship situation that requires zero effort on your part. And honestly… who doesn’t want to receive beef?

Inside you’ll find the kind of cuts Flannery is famous for: meticulously sourced, hand-butchered, and dry-aged with almost absurd precision. Katie explained on the pod that their dry-aging process isn’t just a feature, it’s the backbone of their flavor. They obsess over temperature, humidity, and airflow to coax out that deep, concentrated, unmistakably Flannery character we loved so much at PRESS back in the day. Everything is selected with eating pleasure in mind, not trendiness, and the craftsmanship shows in every bite.

Vandy Crisps (25% off for 1st time customers with this link!)

I discovered these little miracles at an artisanal shop in OCNJ this summer, and let me tell you: they are dangerously good. Vandy Crisps are ultra-thin, ultra-crunchy potato crisps fried in beef tallow (!!) which means they have that deep, savory richness you didn’t know you were missing until now.

They’re pricey, yes… but absolutely worth it. I snack on them straight from the bag, but they also make an incredible vehicle for caviar (a pairing I take far too seriously).

If you’re gifting caviar… or hosting… or simply want to impress yourself, add these to the cart.

Regiis Ova Caviar

And speaking of caviar…if you want to give someone the moment of the holidays, it’s this. Regiis Ova is the caviar brand founded by Chef Thomas Keller (The French Laundry) and Shaoching Bishop, and it delivers exactly the kind of quality you’d expect from that duo: pristine, consistent, impossibly delicious.

I featured Shaoching on the podcast recently, and learned a great deal about all the intricacies of caviar and why Regiis Ova is simply the best. They work directly with farms around the world to source sustainably, grade obsessively, and ensure you’re getting caviar that tastes clean, fresh, and luxurious. And hey, if it’s good enough for a 3-Michelin starred chef…

Mushroom Grow Kit from Mighty Cap Mushroom

For the friend who loves a project, loves to cook, or just loves telling people, “Oh yeah, I grew those.” Mighty Cap’s mushroom grow kits are one of my favorite unexpected gifts.

After visiting their “farm” in Paso Robles a few months ago, it inspired me to do my food miniseries on the podcast. No homesteading skills required. No “Did I just create mold?” panic. Just mist, wait, and watch your countertop turn into a tiny gourmet mushroom farm.

The mushrooms themselves are gorgeous — think pink oysters or lion’s mane — and they cook like a dream. Pan-sear them with butter, toss them into pasta, put them on toast… you can’t really go wrong. They’re the exact kind of whimsical, hands-on gift people don’t realize they want until they’re proudly sending you photos of their harvest.

For the Wine Lover Who Wants the Wines I Actually Drink

My Holiday Wine Set (via Wine Access)

Curated by yours truly. These sets always sell quickly because they’re wines I personally open, enjoy, and stand behind.

This year I’ve included a vintage Champagne (because, duh), a gorgeous Bordeaux Blanc, a delightful Carignan for fireside sipping, and a killer Malbec to pair with your holiday rump.

It’s as perfect for gifting as it is bringing to your own holiday table.

Wine Access Unfiltered Podcast Wine Club

The gift that keeps on giving that’s not the “Jelly of the Month” club! Huzzah! If you haven’t figured it out by now, I host a podcast. And that podcast has an accompanying wine club. You (or whomever you gift this to) will get 4 bottles of wine shipped about every other month, with each bottle corresponding to an episode of the show which you can either watch or listen to.

I also do individual tasting videos for each of the wines and like the wine set above, these are all wines I’ve vetted (LK and Eduardo from Wine Access help too!) and personally want to drink. You also get 10% off all of your other Wine Access purchases as a member so there’s some version of girl math in there that actually makes this free…

For the Wine Lover Who Appreciates Good Glassware

My Trusted Wine Glass Brands

Because the right glass does matter. I’m aware I owe you a full-length substack on my glassware recs, but for now this will have to do

Gabriel Glas — universal, elegant, great for everyday.

She’s the LBD, the really great jeans, the workhorse of my wardrobe. The GG Stand’Art Glasses are what are stocked in my kitchen and I love them for their versatility, durability, and the fact they’re dishwasher safe. In addition to seeing them across most of my videos on IG, you’ll also spot them in Michelin-starred restaurants all over the country who love the fact that you can serve anything from sparkling to red in there.

Josephinenhütte — sculptural, lightweight, stunning

I once called these the Birkin bag of wine glasses and I stand by it. When people see them, it’s an immediate IYKYK moment. This revived heritage brand brought on Kurt Josef Zalto (yes, that Zalto), and the results are mouth-blown and exquisite. Not daily drivers (though they are surprisingly durable), these are for when you’re feeling like you need a sprinkle of fancy. And while I love the whole line, I’m completely feral for their Champagne glass.

Wine Enthusiast Vienna Break-Resistant — durable without looking, well, durable

If you want something truly tough that doesn’t look like it belongs in a corporate tasting room, these are it. They shine especially for spritzes, where ice cubes have been known to take other glasses down.

Curated Collections

Crate & Barrel Picks & How to Style

2025 was my year of Crate & Barrel. As their resident CrateKitchen Wine Expert, I got to play in the studio and work with their incredible team — and I fell even more in love with their pieces.

From decanters to holiday serveware to hosting essentials, this is my curated collection of things that give the “I drink wine and I entertain well” aesthetic. Chic, functional, elevated — the kind of pieces that make your table look pulled together even when your life… isn’t.

I also did this video on how to “style” a wine you’re gifting if you want a little more inspo.

Amazon Picks

While I always do my best to spotlight small businesses, I’m also acutely aware that sometimes, time is of the essence. When the purchase needs to come from Amazon (no judgment) I’ve got a curated storefront for that filled with loads of recommendations and accompanying videos.

Wine Access Wine Favs

Maybe you just a bottle, maybe you need a few to round out an order. Whatever the case, this is my list of current in-store favs. I’ll be updating regularly as inventory changes so keep an eye, and always feel free to DM me if you have questions.

**If it’s your first time purchasing from Wine Access, this link will give you $50 off your purchase of $150 or more

When people ask me where to go wine tasting, I’m always shocked to learn they’ve never considered (or sometimes even heard of) Paso Robles.

Because here’s the thing: Paso is one of the most exciting wine regions in California right now. It’s got serious wine cred (more on that later), a vibrant culinary scene (hello 👋 Michelin stars), and that perfect mix of luxury and laid-back energy that makes you feel like you’ve discovered something special. And on my fifth trip there, my suspicion was confirmed — this place really does keep getting better.

A lesser, more complacent wine region might be content to rest on a few Michelin stars, world-class cocktails that rival major cities, and that slightly less flashy marker I always look for: great coffee. But not Paso. On top of all that, plus its truly special vineyards, oak-dotted hills, and endlessly unique tasting experiences, Paso has something that many regions can’t (or perhaps don’t care to) compete with: a willingness to color outside the lines, to innovate, and to evolve alongside the world around it. Its playful, even slightly irreverent nature doesn’t diminish the quality of the winemaking or grapegrowing; it actually enhances it.

You’d think that in an industry fueled by tourism, more wine regions would follow suit. But the wine world, for all its romance and beauty, can be stubbornly slow to change. Maybe that’s a conversation for another day. What I’ll say is this: I’ve visited countless wine regions around the world, but few keep calling me back like Paso does.

And getting there couldn’t be easier. Fly into San Luis Obispo Airport (SLO); a tiny, perfect airport that feels more like a private terminal than a hub. American Airlines flies in via Phoenix and Dallas, and from there it’s just about a 30-minute drive to Paso Robles. Easy. Stress-free. Blissfully uncrowded. (Also: the rental car lot is literally steps from baggage claim. A dream.)

So here’s how I’d do Paso in three days, perfectly balanced between wine, food, and a few surprises you won’t find anywhere else.

And if you want to see this in action check out my videos recapping this exact experience by clicking the buttons below:

Part 1

Part 2

DAY ONE: Check-In, Sip, Repeat

Stay: The Ava Hotel

Paso’s new kid on the block — and she’s stunning. Think design-forward meets laid-back luxury, with a rooftop bar (Esperanza) that’s worth a visit even if you’re not staying overnight. Perfectly located downtown, just steps from the square, you can walk everywhere: tasting rooms, restaurants, shops, you name it. Though it feels truly boutique, The Ava flies the Hilton flag, so loyalists can earn points or even cash them in for a stay.

Wine Tasting: Hope on Park

Your first glass of the trip belongs here, just a few minutes’ walk from The Ava and conveniently located on the square. The OGs know Austin Hope was one of the first to make Paso a household name, and this new downtown tasting room has all the right over-the-top energy with feathered lamps, bold wallpaper, and yes, caviar service.

And speaking of service, while you could absolutely cozy up to the bar as a walk-in, a reservation in the back room (accessed through a secret entrance and a Champagne saber, naturally) is highly recommended. The experience is tailored and top-notch, with fun surprises like blind tastings and even a “sniff test.” I can’t make this stuff up.

Golden Hour: Esperanza

Kick off the evening with guac and a spicy marg at Esperanza on the Rooftop, back at The Ava. This is the spot for golden hour with breezes blowing and fireplaces roaring. At 6pm on a Tuesday this place was electric, so lean in, bop to the music, and enjoy the view over downtown.

Dinner: Fish Gaucho

For dinner we’re heading a few blocks over to Fish Gaucho, a longtime Paso favorite that’s equal parts lively and delicious. Friends and followers have been recommending this place for years and I’m disappointed I didn’t listen sooner. Don’t be fooled by the name, the menu leans California-Mexican (and is surprisingly NOT heavy on the fish) with a tequila and mezcal selection that’s borderline dangerous (in the best way). Don’t skip the posole which was comforting, perfectly spiced, and the ideal ending to your first full Paso day.

DAY TWO: Downtown to Westside Wineries

Morning:

Coffee: Spearhead

Paso mornings move slow – and since there’s no shortage of good coffee here, I’m perfectly okay with that. My first choice is Spearhead, where I always ask for the raw milk (a must if you’re a latte fiend) and go for the honeycomb latte if it’s in season. But I’d be remiss not to mention Amstrdm, a rising-star coffee spot run by a husband-and-wife duo roasting all their own beans just a few miles away at their Atascadero location. The downtown Paso location doubles as a music lounge and I’m told it boasts some pretty impressive talent.

If you’d rather stay close, pop down the street to H. Cheval Coffee for something cozy and classic. Or skip the shoes altogether and head to Pine Street Bistro, which pours La Colombe and serves excellent breakfast options right inside The Ava.

Mornings are my favorite time to wander, and on this trip I stumbled into a brand-new sourdough bakery called Black Sheep specializing in cinnamon buns that were, quite frankly, divine.

Lunch: Parchetto

Lunch is at Parchetto, the newest spot from the husband-and-wife team behind one of my longtime Paso favorites, Il Cortile and it’s every bit as good. Nestled right downtown, Parchetto blends the charm of old-world Italy with that breezy California sensibility Paso does so well.

The space itself feels intimate but lively, with a polished bistro vibe that makes you want to linger. The menu changes with the seasons, but the steak salad (featuring Mighty Cap Mushrooms - details ahead!) was the standout on my visit. Perfectly seared, beautifully dressed, and the perfect way to fuel myself before a day of wine-tasting. Of course, if you need to wet your whistle before that gets going I’d personally opt for a glass of local rosé which is as perfect a pairing as it is “hydrating.” You do you though.

Afternoon

After lunch, it’s time to head west — literally. The Westside of Paso Robles is home to some of the region’s most acclaimed vineyards and wineries, thanks to its diverse microclimates, calcareous soils, and the cooling influence of the nearby Pacific Ocean. It’s a little hillier, a little wilder, and honestly, the drive alone is worth the trip. This is where Paso’s winemaking really flexes to make elegant Rhône-style blends, bold Zinfandels, and Cabernet Sauvignon that rivals…well…you know 🙃

Wine Tasting: Booker Vineyard

Booker is one of those wineries that defines modern Paso. They’ve earned an international cult following for their bold, slightly rebellious style — but don’t let any irreverence fool you. Their focus is on Rhône varieties, farmed organically and certified regenerative, crafted by some of the best winemakers in the business. What really stands out is how seamlessly they combine power with polish. It’s not easy to exercise restraint when the pony wants to gallop — but like Rip Wheeler, they keep the reins tight and somehow make it look as effortless as Beth Dutton downing a double Tito’s on the rocks.

I was lucky enough to taste in the “treehouse” which I’d highly recommend if you have the chance. The sun-drenched room gives you crystal clear views of the property and feels like a private little oasis. It’s just up the hill from the tasting room which is equal parts, sleek, modern, and cozy.

Wine Tasting: Thacher Winery

Where Booker feels chic and architectural, Thacher is its rustic, soulful counterpart. Mind the free-range chickens roaming this family-owned property and do stop to take a photo next to the old wagon. Set on a century-old horse ranch, Thacher leans into minimal-intervention winemaking that allows the fruit (and the land) to do the talking. Expect fresh, lighter-bodied Zinfandels and Rhône blends that somehow manage to feel both complex and easygoing. It’s the kind of place that invites you to slow down, stay for one more pour, and remember why you came to Paso in the first place.

Just don’t get too cozy because we do have plans this evening…

Evening

Winemaker Dinner at Sensorio

When the sun starts to dip, there’s only one place to be: Sensorio.

If you haven’t been yet, picture 100,000 glowing orbs spread across rolling hills, pulsing in waves of color that shift with the music and the breeze. I know — you can’t. It’s impossible to describe, but trust me: it’s a must-do and one of the reasons I think Paso is in a class of its own. Created by British artist Bruce Munro, Field of Light is one of those rare experiences that actually lives up to the hype.

Over the years, I’ve loved watching Sensorio evolve with new exhibitions and expanded food offerings. But on this visit, I got to experience it in a completely new way: through their brand-new Winemaker Dinner Series. Each evening features a local winery, a multi-course menu, and front-row seats for that epic transformation from golden sunset to a glowing sea of light. It’s a “you have to see it to believe it” kind of thing that can’t be adequately captured in pictures, but trust me when I say it’s a can’t miss.

On this night, Eberle Winery was the featured guest, and the pairing of Paso-grown Syrah with the illuminated landscape felt almost poetic. The best part? You have the place to yourself. The place shuts down just for the event which means after dinner you can refill your glass and take an evening stroll through the installations at your own pace. It’s art, wine, and place coming together in a way that taps into every sense and in addition to special rotating experiences like this, Sensorio is open year round to enjoy.

DAY THREE: Mushrooms, Meals, and Magic

Morning

Tour: Mighty Cap Mushrooms

Day three kicks off with… mushrooms.
Yes, you read that right.

I know it sounds unexpected, but that’s exactly why I love it. Mighty Cap Mushrooms is a small but mighty farm tucked inside Tin City, where founder Chris Batlle has quietly become the mushroom supplier for some of the best restaurants on the Central Coast.

The space feels equal parts science experiment and art installation: rows of misting racks, shelves glowing with growing caps, and a contagious enthusiasm that makes you rethink everything you know about mushrooms. It’s weirdly mesmerizing and the perfect palate cleanser between wine tastings. Because, balance.

Afternoon

Lunch/Wine Tasting: Niner Wine Estates

And since we’re all about balance, we’re doing a two-for-one special at our next stop: lunch and a wine tasting at one of Food & Wine’s “Best Winery Restaurants in America,” Niner Wine Estates.

Set in the Willow Creek District, this family-owned estate is where everything — and everyone — feels in sync. The tasting room was buzzing with members savoring a menu built around ingredients straight from the chef’s garden. I caught the last gasp of tomato season and some early carrots to start, but there’s plenty to tempt you.

The Iberico pork was the standout — tender, flavorful, and perfect with their Jespersen Ranch Pinot Noir on a slightly chilly day. But if you want to go full Paso (and revisit those mushrooms from earlier), order the Etto casarecce with cherry tomato and Mighty Cap mushroom pesto. Etto is a local pasta maker I discovered on my last trip, and now I order it anytime it pops up on a menu because it’s just that good.

Wine Tasting: McPrice Myers Winery

If Paso had a “greatest hits” album, McPrice Myers would be track one.

Winemaker Mac Myers has been doing his thing here for years, and it shows. Big, expressive Rhône blends that somehow still have restraint. The Beautiful Earth Red (yes, the one that landed on Wine Spectator’s Top 100) is the headliner, but the rest of the lineup (including my personal favorite, Grenache) deserves equal billing.

The new tasting room is modern but unfussy and the kind of place where you can geek out on soil types one minute and debate football the next. Go Birds 🦅

The wines have personality, just like the people pouring them, and they’re the kind that make you immediately start figuring out how to fit another bottle in your suitcase. They do (thankfully) ship.

Spirits Tasting: Re:Find Distillery

If you think you’ve hit your wine limit (I respect your optimism), it’s time for a little spirits detour.

Re:Find Distillery was Paso’s first craft distillery and the spark that started the town’s now-thriving distillery trail. Owners Alex and Monica Villicana upcycle grape juice from local wineries into gin, vodka, and whiskey in a move that’s equal parts sustainable and genius. I tasted with Alex, who couldn’t be a nicer or more insightful guy. It was a perfect reminder of why I love this place and what makes it so special.

Evening

Dinner: Grace and Rose

I’ll admit, I was a little disappointed not to revisit some of my longtime Paso favorites this trip. I’ve had unforgettable meals at Il Cortile, LPC, and In Bloom. But when more than a few locals told me their favorite new spot in town was Grace & Rose, I knew sacrifices must be made.

Housed in a 110-year-old farmhouse downtown and run by the same beloved husband and wife team behind Paso Robles Wine Merchant, it’s everything you want for a final night in Paso — cozy, seasonal, and quietly stylish, with a wine list that boasts several gems from around Paso. Many even had a little age on them, which is always a thrill. And since I was lucky enough to have Jason Haas of Tablas Creek as my dining companion, I thought it was the perfect excuse to order a bottle of 2011 Villa Creek from the list. Of course the real wine star of the show that evening was the unicorn he brought along: a single-variety Counoise. This slightly obscure Châteauneuf-du-Pape grape rarely (if ever?) gets to be the star of the show, but Tablas Creek (the sister winery to Château de Beaucastel in the Southern Rhône) has made it their mission to plant all thirteen of the appellation’s varieties here in California. Only a handful of cases of this Counoise exist, and it’s not exactly for sale, so tasting it alongside dinner felt like a true insider’s moment.

As for the food? More Etto pasta, more Mighty Cap Mushrooms (I warned you I can’t get enough) and some of the best Brussels sprouts I’ve ever had. In the end, no sacrifices were actually made as Grace & Rose handily rose to the top of my favorite Paso restaurants list and I left a very happy (very full) camper.

Optional Nightcap: The Remedy

If you’ve got one more drink in you (you know you do), make a reservation at The Remedy, a hidden speakeasy tucked behind my favorite Paso bar, The Alchemist’s Garden. After being whisked through a stealthy side entrance, you’ll sink into an oversized chair as a bar cart glides over for tableside service. Expect liquid-nitrogen theatrics and the kind of precision usually reserved for Michelin kitchens — only without the pretense.

I went with my usual, a Vesper, which only sounds boring if you’ve never had theirs. Every cocktail here is extraordinary, but the experience can get a little dangerous if you’ve got an early flight… and a wandering eye.

Did I mention you’re surrounded by lockers filled with some of the best bourbons, whiskies, and spirits on the planet? There’s a pun about a toy store in there somewhere, but by this point in the night, I’m too tired to make it.

DAY FOUR: Farewell for now

Did you have a great time? I know you did. But you probably want (ahem, need) some caffeine…

If you’re heading to the SLO airport, make one final stop at Amstrdm Coffee Co. in Atascadero for a latte. As mentioned, they roast their own beans here and since it’s where many of the locals live, you may find yourself asking to borrow the sugar from the gal who made your favorite wine. The kind of place that feels cozy, quaint, and uniquely California, it’s the perfect west coast end to a perfect 3 days.

Big thanks to Travel Paso for partnering with me on this trip and reminding me (again) why I can’t stop coming back.

For a bit more info on Paso and other recommendations check out my full recap on the region here

Forgive any typos. I’ve just returned from the New York Wine Experience and am still feeling ever-so-slightly over-served (professionally speaking, of course). For the uninitiated, this annual gathering of the world’s most celebrated producers, sommeliers, and collectors has been hosted by Wine Spectator for over forty years and culminates in what can only be described as the Super Bowl of wine tastings.

Where else can you hop from Harlan to Haut-Brion, snag a splash of Taittinger Comtes de Champagne, finish with a dollop of Château d’Yquem, and still have enough room in your glass to debate which was showing better: Opus One or Ornellaia? (More on that in the next Substack, I promise and a sneak peek here if you can’t wait.) Because, as usual, the real magic happened outside the official programming.

Between seminars and tastings, I managed to squeeze in a few pilgrimages to old favorites, some long-overdue new spots, and more than a few glasses of something delicious in between. This was trip number 10 to the city in the past year—what can I say, I’m in a committed relationship with Amtrak. So while some of these stops are fresh discoveries, others are long-time loves I’ve revisited (and re-validated) over the course of many very full, very delicious visits.

Here’s where to drink, dine, and inevitably over-indulge and what I’d (currently) recommend next time you find yourself here.

Eating

New York is where I first fell in love with wine. It’s where I learned that a great glass doesn’t need to come with a great paycheck, that a bar stool can be as formative as a classroom, and that restaurants here can (and often do) reinvent themselves faster than a Polo bar reservation disappears on Resy. But it’s also where I fell madly in love with food. So while I made sure to snag a table at a few of the buzzy new spots, some revisits to old classics were in order too. Because in the city that never sleeps, no one stays relevant by resting. I’ve divided it into Lunch and Dinner, but most places offer both.

Lunch

🍸 The Grill

If mid-century glamour had a pulse, it would beat inside The Grill. Once the fabled Four Seasons, this landmarked Seagram Building space was reborn by the Carbone team at Major Food Group and I’d been eager to try. The room alone is worth the visit: bronze drapery glinting in the light, marble underfoot, and tables so luxuriously spaced you won’t catch so much as a whisper from the next one. Servers in full tuxes (yes, even at lunch) expertly monitor your every need, all while making you feel right at home in those plush banquets. A far cry from the tightly-packed, noisy downtown dining scene to be sure but a welcome departure nonetheless.

We ordered the crudité (an opulent flex of perfect vegetables served atop ice in … is that a Champagne bucket?) the porcini special, an omelette more Paris than Park Avenue, and the now-famous cheeseburger - rumored to be a Beyoncé favorite. Two glasses of Pierre Moncuit Champagne (served in Zaltos without us even asking) kept us company and left me wondering whether I’m getting old or if the old-school midtown power lunch is cool again? Nobody answer that.

🍽 Jean-Georges

Jean-Georges is timeless. The restaurant equivalent of an Hermès scarf: elegant, perfectly folded, and never out of place. Lunch here is one of those New York rituals that feels equal parts indulgent and essential. Sure, the days of the affordable prix-fixe at the bar are behind us (RIP to one of the city’s great steals), but at $128 for three courses, it still feels like money well spent on culinary theater.

Even with its Michelin demotion from three stars to two, JG still has it: the magic, the precision, the quiet confidence of a restaurant that doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone. Sunlight streams through the windows overlooking Columbus Circle, the dishes are so dialed-in they could teach a masterclass in restraint, and despite the fact that the service makes you sit up a little straighter, you still feel remarkably comfortable.

And then there’s the wine team. Some of the best in the city, let them take the wheel and watch as a parade of glassware (Gabriel-Glas Golds, Sophienwalds, and everything in between) waltzes across your table.

🍔 Minetta Tavern

Some classics survive because they’re nostalgic. Others because they’re that good. The Minetta Tavern burger falls squarely in the latter category. You walk in and it still smells like a few of my favorite things: steak, butter, bourbon, and ambition.

There might be two burgers on the menu, but the only real option is the Black Label. I actually had it with one of my perennial favorites - the Eric Bordelet cider from Normandy. Ever so slightly sweet, it’s a perfect choice by the glass as it provides a contrast to all that savory. It’s also my preference for lunch since it’s got a lower ABV.

Dinner

🦆 Peking Duck House (Chinatown, BYOB)

Somehow I missed this sommelier rite of passage when I actually lived here, and I’m kicking myself for it. This place is the opposite of pretense: you can roll in wearing just about anything, carrying just about anything, and no one will bat an eye.

Sommeliers love it for that rare combination of legitimately great food and the ability to bring your own bottles without corkage or judgment. You will, however, be subjected to chunky, clunky glassware (though some overachievers bring their own) and be sure to pack a wine key.

I brought a German Riesling from Ökonomierat Rebholz that danced perfectly with the crispy duck fat, but if you can’t find one, Champagne is a close second. Honestly, with so much on the menu, you can bring whatever bottle you’ve been dying to open and it’ll find its match here. The move is to go with a group, get the Peking Duck dinner (which comes with other entrees and apps) and party - it’s $51pp, min 4 ppl, and honestly a NYC steal. **Note, there are TWO locations for Peking Duck House but only the Chinatown location is BYOB

🍗 Coqodaq

If Champagne and fried chicken sound like an unlikely pairing, you either haven’t met me or haven’t been to Coqodaq. Twice now I’ve dined at Coqodaq and twice now I’ve left checking the calendar to see when I can come back. Equal parts cathedral and club, it’s become the see-and-be-seen spot for anyone who (like me) takes their bubbles (and their drumsticks) seriously. Every table is anchored by an ice bucket, the soundtrack hums at the perfect decibel for dosage talk with the somm, and the chicken? Golden, perfectly crisp, always gluten-free, and seemingly engineered for Champagne.

And speaking of Champagne…

Coqodaq boasts the largest list in North America and treats it like an Olympic sport. Since I’m no athlete, I let the pros take the wheel. Both times I’ve visited, I gave them a $200-ish budget and a loose brief, and walked away with new grower-Champagne discoveries I’ll be chasing down for years. I recommend you do the same (in whatever budget you feel comfortable with)

A few pro-tips:

1. Skipping the Black Gold Nugget - a truffle-shaved fever dream of a chicken bite - would be criminal. As would skipping the Champagne.

2. Sleeper hit dishes: Tuna Tartare and Chicken Guksu. Trust me.

3. Dinner reservations disappear faster than bubbles in a coupe, and bar seats are near-mythical, but I’ve twice scored with a well-timed Resy alert.

4. Brunch was a fantastic meal and vibe and seems like an easier table to snag.

They have a 100 under $100 Champagne list at the very front if you’re worried about being priced out of a bottle! But the markups are VERY fair in general.

🥕ABC Kitchen

I remember going here when it first opened, and after a revisit over a decade later, it’s still every bit as good - a true testament to consistency and craft. Somehow I always forget it’s part of the Jean-Georges empire, which feels like the most understated flex imaginable. When I’m in need of more vegetable-forward fare that feels light and decadent at the same time, this is my move.

🍣 Jungsik

Nearly 15 years in, Jungsik finally earned its third Michelin star, and it’s about time. Even as someone who’s not usually into tweezer food, I was blown away by the inventiveness, precision, and playfulness of every course. So much so that after a full-experience in February, I returned in again in August for a completely different, equally as wonderful meal. Proof that fine dining can still surprise you.

Pro-tip: if you make a res at the bar you can order a la carte from the tasting menu. A great move for the non-committal folk like me who like to hit multiple places in an evening.

🍸 Cocktails

The cocktail game in Manhattan feels…different lately. Not that it ever really faltered, but there’s a new electricity to it. Bars that borrow the quiet precision of Japanese omakase counters, food programs that rival Michelin-starred kitchens (and, in some cases, are run by them), and menus that blend Manhattan-level technique with a sense of play are running this town and by extension, my wallet. If I’m being honest I don’t LOVE that I have to make a reservation to get a good drink anymore, but if that’s the price to pay for cocktails that taste like Mango Sticky Rice and drinks that arrive with as much ceremony as a tasting menu, I’m kind of here for it.

Clemente

If you know, you really know. Hidden directly above Eleven Madison Park (yes, that Eleven Madison Park) Clemente is the kind of place where wine, food, and cocktails exist in perfect, slightly hedonistic harmony.

Like EMP, the menu is plant-based but you won’t mind. Start with the truffle “hot dog” (technically tofu, but don’t roll your eyes until you’ve tried it), the endive goddess, and a Negroni Colada that’s reason enough to book a return trip. Two experiences are offered, but I’d personally reserve the Lounge for the plush seats, à la carte ordering, and the best people-watching. Come early if you want to whisper, stay late if you want to eavesdrop on half the industry. Clemente isn’t just the standout of my trip—it’s the kind of spot that reminds you New York still knows how to surprise you.

🧋Double Chicken Please:

IYKYK. This Lower East Side bar has completely redefined the idea of a “cocktail and a snack.” Two bars in one, the front room (Free Range) feels casual and kinetic, serving cocktails (I’m not joking) inspired by classic cartoons, while the back (The Coop) is sleek and conceptual, where drinks mimic dishes like cold pizza and Thai curry. It shouldn’t work - none of it should - but as we passed our glasses around for a taste, the consensus was unanimous: it’s not a gimmick. The cocktails don’t just work, they’re some of the best we’ve ever had.

It’s that rare spot that manages to be both wildly creative and genuinely craveable. And yes, there’s food. The famous chicken sandwich is only served in the back, with separate menus for The Coop and Free Range. Make reservations for both if you can, but since 80% of tables are kept for walk-ins, the move is to show up early, get your name on the list (or lists), and circle back later. Not easy to get into, but absolutely worth the effort.

🧉Superbueno

Call me crazy, but I love a bar that’s actually fun. Superbueno is a love letter to Mexican flavors, where every cocktail manages to be bright, playful, and seriously well-crafted. The energy sits somewhere between a house party and a masterclass—music up, bar team grinning, flavors that make you want to text a friend mid-sip. Do not skip the Vodka y Soda. It sounds simple, but it’s one of the most perfectly executed drinks in the city: crisp, salty, a little electric. Proof that joy and precision aren’t mutually exclusive.

🥃 Dante:

When the question is Negroni, the answer is Dante. Still one of the most dependable bars in the city (and the world, for that matter) it’s impossible to have a bad time here.

The Negroni list remains unmatched, the martinis are dangerously smooth, and it’s the kind of place that reminds you how good hospitality can feel. Dealers choice on which location you choose.

🍹 Sip & Guzzle:

Few bars have generated as much buzz as Sip & Guzzle and after I came here with my sister for my non-bachelorette party in August, I can see why. Tucked away in the East Village, this Japanese-style bar from acclaimed bartender Shingo Gokan is effortlessly cool.

Another “2 concepts in one” situation, Sip (upstairs) offers precision-driven classics in a traditional bar setting, while Guzzle colors a bit more outside the lines in the dungeon-chic downstairs. The mochi fries are a mandatory snack, but I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t still thinking about both the Dirty Mango and the Jamon & Cheese cocktails.

🍸Bemelmans Bar

There are few places left in Manhattan that feel truly of another era. Bemelmans is one of them. Being escorted inside by the maître d’ feels like a brief, glamorous detour into a different tax bracket in the best possible way. The patinaed walls shimmer with Ludwig Bemelmans’ murals, a piano hums softly in the corner, and there are enough diamonds and designer bags in this room to stock a Bergdorf’s display case.

But then the martini arrives - etched glass, perfectly frosted, cold enough to hurt your teeth - and your sidecar of ice glints beside it like a Cartier cuff. Frost yourself ladies, because now, you belong. Sure, you’ll probably flinch when the bill lands (there’s a “cover charge” for non-hotel guests), but remember: you’re deep on the Upper East Side at The Carlyle. This is the price of admission to one of New York’s last great rooms.

🌅 Sunset Champagne at The View (Marriott Marquis)

I have to tell you, having Champagne at the Marriott Marquis OUTSIDE the grand tasting was not on my bingo card. But this weirdly might be one of the best kept secrets in NYC. Yes, it rotates. Yes, it’s touristy. Yes, it’s in Times Square. But watching the city turn gold while sipping Champagne 48 stories above Manhattan feels both surreal and strangely grounding. We walked in at 5:30 and got a spot right by the window and now I’m as confused about life as you are because how in the world did that happen?

Other Stops

👜 Polène

IYKYK. French women have been keeping this brand all to themselves for YEARS. So when they opened their first and only store in the US in NYC about a year ago, I knew it was my sign to make a stop. I finally bought the bag I’ve been eyeing for months and felt zero regret. They’ll make custom accessories for you right in store as well as emboss initials if you’d like. And while there was no line when I went at opening, the store began to get super busy around 11:30am on a Thursday.

🪑Roman and Williams

My husband sent me this video a few months back and its haunted me ever since. The multi-disciplinary team of Roman and Williams got their start in Hollywood designing iconic movie sets like Practical Magic and Zoolander, but eventually transitioned into the real-world to re-imagine homes and eventually some of the most famous restaurants, bars, and clubs in Manhattan. When I learned they had a storefront in SoHo attached to La Mercerie, a stop was most certainly in order. It houses both original designs as well as an incredible curation of pieces from other artists. If you’re in the market for some truly special barware (and have a decent amount of cash in the bank), I encourage you to take a trip to Howard Street.

☕ Coffee at Devoción

There’s coffee, and then there’s Devoción coffee. I became a devotee years ago at their Brooklyn outpost and have loved watching new locations pop up across Manhattan ever since. Even Eleven Madison Park agrees - it’s been their exclusive coffee for years now. Devoción promises beans that go from harvest to cup in as little as ten days, which in the coffee world is not only lightspeed fast, but practically unheard of. But this is not a gimmick. Whether you’re a latte girl like myself or a cold-brew junkie (like my husband), you can taste how bright, fresh, and alive in a way that makes most other cups feel like crappy boxed wine. Always a 10/10 for quality, service, and friendliness and frankly a must-stop when I’m in town.

🥐 Pastries from Lysée

A temple of pastry disguised as a minimalist dream. Each confection looks like it belongs in a museum, and somehow tastes even better. I grabbed a chocolate croissant that has ruined my life and failed to snap a photo because I just couldn’t wait.

Other Things to Note

Dress Codes are BACK…at least in Manhattan. Many restaurants including The Grill, JG, and Jungsik all enforce some variant of a no jeans, sneakers, etc policy.

You need a reservation for pretty much everything. Unless you’re willing to chance a long wait, most places (including the bars) necessitate a res. You’ll find this particularly annoying if you’re like me and are trying to cram in multiple places in an evening. Resy occasionally blocks your ability to make several in one night.

Subway vs Uber? As a former New Yorker I love taking the train for it’s unparalleled efficiency in a congested city. And since ubers have gotten wildly expensive with all of the new city-imposed surcharges, during the day I’m perfectly comfortable (even alone) taking the subway when it makes more sense. You can set up your phone to tap in (a glorious improvement since my days of living there), and at most stations I saw NYPD patrolling with regularity. Just remember you are in a major city so always be smart about how you conduct yourself, aware of your surroundings, and cognizant of valuables.

🍇 Wine Experience Notes

I’ll be sharing a separate piece soon on some of my favorite wines and producers from this year’s New York Wine Experience—some legends, some new discoveries, all worth seeking out. Stay tuned for that drop.

🏀 The NBA x Kendall-Jackson Launch

In the middle of all this, I also stopped by the launch of the NBA x Kendall-Jackson wine collab—yes, that’s a thing, and yes, it was as cool as it sounds. Think courtside meets corkscrew: bold packaging, unexpected blends, and a fun crossover moment for wine and sports. (If you know me, you know I’m here for it.)

A few days, a dozen glasses, and one very full heart later, I left reminded that no place reinvents itself—or its wine scene—quite like New York. It’s equal parts tradition and surprise, a city that still manages to pour something you didn’t expect.

There’s a certain magic to Nantucket in the fall. And if you’re a “‘ber” girl like me, you live for that soft exhale the island takes once summer ends and your shorts make way for cozy cashmere and earth tones. When the air turns salty and crisp, the hydrangeas fade to mauve, and the crowds thin just enough to make space for a proper glass of wine you know you’ve landed in autumnal heaven. It’s the kind of moment that makes me crave a crisp-yet-decadent Chablis, sipped slowly while you blend in among locals who know they’ve got the island back to themselves.

I was just there for a long weekend, and it was one of those rare trips that hit every note: cozy, delicious, a little indulgent, and full of tiny discoveries I’m still thinking about. If you’ve never been, Nantucket — especially this time of year — is everything you expect and need it to be. Was I living my best Nancy Meyers meets Diane Keaton movie life? Obviously.

But what surprised me most was the wine. Every list I encountered was thoughtful and dynamic — a mix of classic heavy hitters and under-the-radar gems that make even the nerdiest of somms feral, each perfectly aligned with the food and the vibe of the place. And while you can, of course, expect a touch of island markup (this is a destination where the average home price is, well, not modest), I never found it offensive. If anything, it made me want to order another bottle just to see what else they were hiding.

And then there was the Chartreuse. It was everywhere. Which is wild, considering it’s been basically impossible to find for over a year. Leave it to Nantucket to have a stash of one of the world’s most esoteric liqueurs like it’s no big deal.

Where to Stay

We stayed at The Faraway, which feels like staying in your impossibly chic friend’s summer home. The one who somehow mixes rattan, velvet, and vintage art without trying too hard. It’s giving major Anthropologie-meets-coastal-cool energy vibes. For true home-away-from-home vibes, book The Federal Suite. It’s a three-bedroom house with every comfort you could possibly want: a fully stocked kitchen (yes, including sphere ice molds in the freezer), a cozy living room, and a bright little salon area that basically begs for cocktail hour. There’s also a private patio for lazy mornings or nightcaps under the string lights and because it’s part of the hotel, you still get all the perks like daily housekeeping and that rare kind of hospitality that feels personal.

Day 1: Martini’s and Cooking Classes

Morning:
Around the corner you’ll find Born and Bread; a bakery that during season will have a line around the block, but this time of year feels much more civilized. Their coffee game is strong so caffeinate to your specifications, cue your favorite spotify playlist, and take a slow stroll through town. It’s the kind of morning that makes you want to cancel all your plans and wonder why you don’t actually live here.

Midday:
If you can, book a cooking class at The Corner Table, easily one of my favorite things we did. The class is taught by an actual chef, Jason Smith, who somehow makes risotto, stock, and egg poaching feel both approachable and elegant. We made a creamy mushroom risotto, perfectly seasoned and cooked so the starches reach that oozy but not goopy consistency I’ve never quite been able to master. Then we topped it with a poached egg which, thanks to Jason’s clear, calm direction, I now feel genuinely confident making at home.

It’s intimate, hands-on, and surprisingly educational - the kind of experience where you leave both well-fed and a little more skilled than when you arrived.

After class, spend the afternoon shopping in town. Nantucket is delightfully chain-free (save for Ralph Lauren), which means you can actually find things that feel special. A few highlights:

• Current Vintage: part wine shop, part consignment boutique affiliated with Oran Mor. I found a gorgeous MOTHER coat there and could have easily walked out with a bottle or two of Burgundy to go with it. It’s a dangerous combo, in the best way.

• The Hospital Thrift Shop: a local legend, and honestly one of the most fun treasure hunts on the island. Go with an open mind and you might walk out with something fabulous for $8.

Evening:
Start the night at The Pearl with their Ohhh Mami Martini. Opt for the caviar-stuffed olives if you’re feeling cheeky, and a half-dozen oysters if you’re feeling civilized. You can stay here for dinner (the food is fantastic), or…

… you can head to Oran Mor, which came highly recommended by every local I talked to … and for good reason. Their pasta (especially the truffle one) is rich, decadent, and exactly what a chilly Nantucket night calls for. Don’t miss the oysters Bourguignon either. I’m a bit of an oyster purist myself, but I was fully on board with the absolutely unacceptable amount of butter, garlic, and herbs it was doused in.

Day 2: Oysters, Sake, and Sweater Weather

Morning:
Coffee on The Faraway’s outdoor patio is a must. t’s peaceful, slightly nautical, and feels like you’re on your own private veranda. If you want to change it up, the Faraway’s coffee program is fantastic so you can grab it there, or opt for a return trip to Born and Bread. This time though, you’re grabbing a BB Egg Sandy breakfast sandwich (trust me) and then walking it off with a stroll to Brant Point Lighthouse. The walk along the beach is crisp, breezy, and perfectly quiet this time of year.

Afternoon:
Lunch at Cru is non-negotiable. It’s right on the water, is a Nantucket staple, and has the best selection of Nantucket oysters - which I have to say are probably my favorites right now. They’re plump, saline, taste like the Atlantic itself, and made me question why I limited myself to the tiny west coast ones for so long. While Champagne is the expected move here (they do a fun 1/2 bottle of Krug and a dozen oysters special I hard a hard time saying no to), I actually loved pairing them with chilled sake. Sake is the GOAT for its ability to harness the umami flavors of fish (see sushi for details) and the slight sweetness of the sake works brilliantly against the briny, tidal wave when those plump, juicy, east-coast girls explode in your mouth. It also frankly might be the best value on the island. The 180ml can of Junmai Gingo ‘Tamano Hikaru’ was $19 and stashed (intentionally?) away under the ‘Featured Luxe Pours’ section. I should mention a $70 glass of Armand Heitz Chassagne-Montrachet and $165 pour of 2005 Chateau d’Yquem were also nestled in there as well. A deal for Nantucket but I wasn’t feeling quite that flush when the lobster will set you back $50. Anyway, enough about money. This is Nantucket after all and we aren’t gauche like that.

Afterward, wander through town and take in the fall colors on the cobblestones at golden-hour before dinner. No soundtrack needed.

Evening:
Dinner at either Proprietors Table or The Nautilus. Proprietors is globally inspired with an adventurous, spice-driven menu and plenty of wines to match (orange wines, Jura, chillable reds, aka my love language). I sat at the bar but I’m told asking for a table upstairs is the better move for date-night.

The Nautilus is more lively and cocktail-forward, great for small plates and people-watching but a fantastic way to try LOTS of things since it’s smaller, more tapas-style fare. Either way you can’t go wrong

Day 3 — One Last Bite

Before heading out, stop by Provisions and grab a Turkey Terrific sandwich to go. It’s practically an island institution and the perfect way to experience fall between 2 slices of bread: cranberry sauce, stuffing, turkey, mayo - basically Thanksgiving in a sandwich, and exactly what you’ll want on the ferry.

Sommelier’s Tips for First-Timers

• Skip the car. The island is walkable and the shuttles are easy

• Book ferries and accommodations early, even off-season. Nantucket’s version of “quiet” still fills up.

• Layer up. Fall weather shifts quickly, and there’s no such thing as too many sweaters.

• Stop by Epernay Wine & Spirits. Owner Jenny Benzie is a sommelier and has a knack for small-production finds

• Pack a beach picnic. Grab oysters from Sayle’s, a chilled bottle of Muscadet, and pretend summer never ended.

Wines That Will Make the Trip Even Better

• Chablis or Albariño: crisp and perfect with oysters, duh.

• Pinot Noir or Cru Beaujolais: light enough for seafood, cozy enough for fall. ‘Tis the season

• Champagne: Always