We are wine snobs.
California has made us better people in lots of ways. This story is not about that. It’s about how California ruined us. Did you know my favorite wine used to be Barefoot’s pinot noir? It was a loveable, naïve, much less expensive time of life. But then we moved to California, just an hour away from Sonoma and Napa, and the rest of one of the most prolific wine regions in the world.
And then we were ruined.
No more Barefoot. No more sweet pinot grigios with cheese pizza. No more $8 berrylicious “house wine” for a “classy” dinner out.
No. NorCal has turned us into wine snobs. People who have a go-to wine merchant (you can’t just have a wine store; it has to be a merchant. holla at Vineyard Gate in Milbrae!). People who have conversations about natural wine and wild yeasts. People who ask about acid-forward flavors and machines that mitigate the oxidizing process. (I think many of us know that we should partially blame wine-distributor by day, bff by night Murphey Parker and his infinitely open wine fridge). So now we’re those people, no matter how we try to hide it. (We have tried to balance this elitist evolution by ensuring that we bring several Bud Light Limes to every sunny outing we attend)
This irreversible attribute of ours has not really had to be on display while on the road. We have been lucky enough to find Bandit for our wilderness wine needs - might I recommend the dry rose? - but otherwise, bottles of wine have seemed needlessly precarious on the road trip - what with all the spills and thrills.
And then we got Manny. Now Manny is not much of a wine drinker, he’s more of a gas guzzler. But his mere presence has provided for a wine-related opportunity! With Manny in tow, we’re able to hop on to Harvest Hosts - a cool app that allows us to spend a night on a vineyard or brewery or farm in exchange for a small purchase from the property owner.
And in steps Idaho wine.
Let’s lay down the good part of the compliment sandwich here. Idaho is beautiful! We had such an amazing time in the Sawtooth Mountains and Stanley, and around the gorgeous Salmon River. We spent a couple days in Stanley, but we could have spent countless days hiking in and out of the alpine lakes and eating at the incredible Stanley Baking Company and soaking in the riverside hot springs.
Now the bad news…the inevitable news…in spite of the majestic mountain range and the crystal blue waters, Idaho wines are…hmmm…how should we say…Idaho wines are excruciatingly bad. And there was no way out! No spitoon for pouring the barnhouse out; no way of avoiding the bated breath of the owner (we were the only ones there!); no way of getting rid of this foul grape juice other than to consume the entire, very generous pours of the various Idaho wines that our delightfully cheery Harvest Host procured for her livelihood.
Taking down an Idaho “rose” turned into one of the bravest accomplishments of my life.
Next time we may enjoy the Museum of Clean - another Harvest Host - or perhaps a potato based location would have been the safer choice? In any case, we know we have to come back to Idaho. We’ll just need to bring our own grapes.
