30 years old and twelve years in wine

Today I turn thirty. I am now officially old. Well, at least as far as I'm concerned. I suppose it's only a matter of time before my joints grow creaky, I am annoyed by the loud music of teenagers and my closet is overflowing with sweater vests. I have however been able to find a way to turn my love of wine into a career, so I suppose it isn't all bad.

It's hard not to reflect a bit on ones birthday. To look back at the people who affected you, the events that changed you, the teaching that shaped you. For me, after over a decade in the wine business, I like to look back on the great tastings of my career. I still remember fumbling through my first tastings, that were more ill conceived attempts to impress a girl rather than to actually learn anything (they failed by the way). I remember my first formal wine class, and being terrified at the amount of information I had to absorb. I remember my first aged Bordeaux, my first 100 point wine, the first class I instructed, and my first time not spitting at a professional tasting (lesson learned). I remember the first wine list I authored (480 labels), which in retrospect is still one of my favorites. There is one event that sticks out more than the others though. A particular tasting that altered my career forever. I feel that I should share it, as it is the sole reason that I decided to remain in the wine business.

I had recently been the GM of a restaurant in Chicago, and had the good fortune of working along-side super star chef Robert Gadsby and his hyper talented Chef de Cuisine, Michael Fusano. I learned so much from my time with them. Which unfortunately was the only positive experience of the affair. Without boring you with the details, all that I will say is that it was a nightmare scenario. One that led me to believe it was time for a career change altogether.

I had put in my notice with the company, and planned on returning to Indiana for a bit to sort of . . . regroup. It was my second to last night, and the restaurant was empty, save one guest at the bar with whom I had been chatting about wine for the better part of an hour. He was an older gentleman, clearly very wine savvy based on his intimate knowledge of burgundy and rhone. He spoke with an enthusiasm about wine that was quite intense for someone outside of the industry. After what seemed like ages, I picked up his tab, gave him my email address and we parted ways.  About 3 months passed and I received an email from him inviting me to a private tasting on Culver lake. Still “finding myself” in Indiana, I thought it would be an excellent opportunity to reconnect with my first love. The trip involved one of the worst storms I have ever driven through, running out of gas, getting lost multiple times, and five of the best wines I have ever had.  1982 Latour, 1989 Domaine Romanee Conti Montrachet, 1997 Harlan, 1995 Groot Constantia . . . unbelievable.  I sat for hours in a dimly lit cabin next to a roaring fire listening to some fellow wine enthusiasts regale their misadventures and funny stories. It was at that moment that I realized what I was meant to do.

So here I am about 5 years later, still loving and selling wine. Tell me, does it get better?

Cheers