Holiday Madness

I think we've all cried at least once in the last couple of weeks. Sometimes from joy, but often from frustration and exhaustion. The breaking in period here has definitely taken its toll on each of us at one point or another. I say this as a statement of fact, not as a complaint. We're barely 10 weeks old and the growing pains have been ongoing and persistent. There's no question that we all want to "get it right" with each and every customer and put this store on the map.

One of the most difficult aspects to ignore right now is the busy-ness of our fellow friends in the business. Most of them have years on us but we compare, even if silently, whether we are standing up to what they're doing. I'll admit, I'm the worst. I won't even try to put it on Jeff or Donald. I make myself crazy with worry when we don't have a sensational day, especially now. I'm honest, however, so I can say this without embarrassment. I'm proud of my friends and their success even as I'm impatient for ours. I think I blogged about this before, but allowing things to unfold naturally is not one of my stronger traits. I'm more of the smash-it-through-the-smallest-opening-and-make-it-fit kinda girl.


In our location, which everyone seems to deem a "goldmine", we have a distinct traffic and shopping pattern. Unlike other stores located along the Post Road, we're at the Westport train station. This "goldmine" doesn't conform to any rules, and frankly, when called by that name, my reaction is to quickly cross myself and say 20 Hail Mary's. The store has a rhythm all its own, one I can't seem to alter. Yet. This is why when my other friends are "getting slammed" for Christmas, we're forced to bend to the cadence of what this location provides thus far. It may one day be a "goldmine" but for now it's firmly, and not so effortlessly, showing us what it's used to being: a commuter's store, and one that's history makes it almost curmudgeonly.


So, at the risk of sounding like Scrooge, let me clarify that I feel very blessed to have this opportunity. Jeff, Donald and I are working hard to turn around the prior damage and we feel confident this will happen. I believe this blog, in many ways, however, is more a metaphor for my life, as well as a lesson. You can't read this without discovering something about me, typically a struggle I'm having, and it's usually rooted in my past. Unlearning deeply ingrained behaviors is probably one of the hardest tasks to undertake. The rewards are tremendous but the grueling step-by-step process is like losing those last ten pounds. Arduous.


I wish everyone the happiest of holidays. Hug your family. Say I love you. Be kind to your fellow travelers.


Peace.

How We Met

Jeff and I have set a wedding date, May 22, 2011. I can't tell you what kind of anxiety this creates, as well as, anticipation and excitement. Marriage. Again for me. For the first time for him. For the last time for both of us, God willing. If the 15 months are any indication, I think we're going to be more than fine. 


My daughters are very excited. I think the idea of wearing a J. Crew bridesmaid's dress to their own mother's wedding fulfills a couple different fantasies. One, they're the Maids of Honor for me, and two, it's J.Crew Bridal. What can I say? Caitlin tells me this makes her happy on many levels. Personally, what would make me happy would be wearing jeans and a leather jacket but I'm pretty confident that won't fly. I can tell you with certainty, though, that my dress, should I wear one, will not be white. Anyone who knows me knows I wear only one color. Would that be too maudlin? Black on my wedding day? Sarah Jessica Parker wore black. I'd still be smiling, and probably bigger than ever. Black is slimming. White requires more make up and anyone who's seen me in my sister's wedding pictures knows that pale colors and tons of make up are not a good combo for me.


Since this is a blog about wine, for the most part, I thought I'd tell you how Jeff and I met. I was working for Bill Taibe at leFarm, helping the restaurant open and creating a wine list with the team. The restaurant is small and we were wearing all the hats initially. I was hostess, sommelier, busgirl, server, whatever there was to do. It was the most fun I've ever had in my life and the best job I've ever had, to date. Bill is an amazing boss and an even more talented chef. So, we were hopping to it nightly.


Jeff was working for a local distributor and one day he dropped by leFarm with another rep. They were trying to sell wines from Virginia. Since they didn't have an appointment I wasn't too interested in sitting down with them but two things made it happen. One, I recognized Jeff from Facebook, and two, the wines he was trying to sell were from Kluge Estate. I knew about the Kluge family so the idea that Patricia was making wine was intriguing. Jeff and I didn't really exchange much dialogue, and I don't remember the wines at all, but there was a little flutter in my belly and I knew something had just occurred between us.


Later on we both called our mutual friend, Darcy, to find out about each other. I had an instant crush, and evidently, so did Jeff. What ensued is straight out of the high school handbook of trying to be cool and feeling anything but. "What did he say about me?" "Is he interested?" It didn't take too long for Jeff to find excuses to come bring me samples, usually of beer, which interested me only slightly more than his wines, but he would appear. I was getting shit from my co-workers and I didn't care. Fate had played its hand and it was just a matter of time until we connected. And we did. And it was amazing. And it continues to be an incredibly growing relationship on every level. Jeff asked me to marry him in December of 2009 on a rainy night in Rhode Island. He got down on bended knee and tied a twisty-tie around my finger. Signed, sealed, delivered! I'm yours!


As we head into our first holiday season at Saugatuck Grain & Grape, we're very grateful. We've had an incredibly exciting (rhymes with stressful) year and we wish you and all your friends and family a happy, healthy new year.

Pinot Noir: Handle With Care

I worship at the altar of Pinot Noir. Everyone knows this about me. Of course, our relationship isn't that old. It's just very intense, in a Romeo and Juliet kind of way, without the death and suicide. Pinot Noir and I only became friends (again) in 2004, but since that time we've seen the friendship grow tremendously.

My father is a Burghound. When I was growing up he traveled to France every summer with his three best friends. He would come home with fabulous presents for all of us (bonus!) and a tremendous amount of wine. When I wasn't drinking beer, I was drinking my father's amazing Pinots: Romanee Conti, La Tache, Grands Echezeaux, Bonnes Mares, Gevrey Chambertin....etc. I remember how exciting it was to watch him uncork and decant the wine each night, and I especially enjoyed going into the cellar with him to pick out a bottle together. I was hooked from my early teens.

Starting in 1988 migraines sidetracked me for many years, forcing me to be a non-drinker, for the most part. If I did drink, it was Rolling Rock. Yes, I see all your eyes rolling. It is what it is! I can't help it. I love bad beer. Just ask Jeff.

Anyhow, once the passion for Pinot Noir was reawakened in 2004, I was back with a vengeance. My father was aghast! I'd been reborn as a California Pinot lover! I think the word he used to describe me was dilettante. California Pinot? Are you kidding me? I raised you on the finest Burgundies and you re-emerge as a New World Pinot drinker who likes too much oak, too much alcohol and a fruit bomb that explodes like an overripe berry in your face? I have failed as a father.....or something along those lines. I just giggled. In my mind it would become my mission to get him to like just ONE Pinot from Cali. I can happily say I've been successful in my efforts. It doesn't happen often, but it happens.

In the last 6 years my palate has obviously evolved. Yes, I'll admit, sometimes I'm a sucker for a big Pinot, like Sine Qua Non, Aubert, Paul Hobbs or Peter Michael. All great wines, all larger than life. However, more and more, I'm yearning and searching for subtlety. Lately, my passion has been for Arterberry Maresh. Jim Maresh, the wunderkind of Oregon, comes from a storied family. His grandfather planted Maresh Vineyards, his father made one of the highest rated Pinot Noirs in history. Jim's brash, and talks some shit, but the wines speak for themselves. At just 26 years old he has taken Oregon Pinot to a whole new level. He's managed to make an Old World style wine in the truest sense of the definition. I'm working on my father as we speak to buy a case of this incredible wine, so stay tuned.  :)

So, back to this love affair? Why do I love Pinot Noir? Is it the fickleness of the grape? Perhaps, because like any good relationship, when it's great it's great but when it's bad it's horrid. Like an unrequited love, I will chase and chase until I have it in my clutches. And yet, there it is, always just slightly out of my grasp, aloof in its cockiness, knowing that once it succumbs I'll be putty in its hands. No wonder no shrink has ever been able to help me. I live for the hunt and am seldom deterred by rejection. Good thing I'm talking about wine here. 

I also tend to be attracted to its delicateness. Pinot Noir grapes appear to be sturdy on the outside, yet are squooshy on the inside. It's a metaphor for how I describe myself, and as you know, this blog is secretly all about me, so there ya go. Anyhow, I delight in the fact that Pinot Noir grapes are, in fact, petulant, as well as, delightful. They bristle at being too wet and shrink from too much sun. They aren't interested in being ignored and require much tender loving care to give you their best. Like any woman, I loathe a rainstorm, it makes my hair frizz, and I will always welcome the sun on my face unless it burns me. All Jeff has to do is be gentle yet consistent and I'm putty in his hands.

Ultimately, this is a blog post about myself. Just call me Pinot Noir. Handle with care.