An email appeared in my inbox mid-afternoon. I’m an inbox-0 kind of person, so the white bar across my perfectly grey screen was jarring. It was a forwarded message, sent by a good friend who was across the country for her summer internship.
Stanford was organizing a wine tasting trip, first-come-first-serve, supported by the Riddle Family fund. It wasn’t long before I had a ticket and an event on my calendar.
A few weeks later I found myself on a bus headed up towards the valleys. With most of western America on fire, we were lucky that both locations were untouched by the flames. We daydreamed out the windows as the bus crossed the Golden Gate bridge, and watched as the outside world went from city, to suburb, to countryside. Two hours later, we stepped out to rolling vineyards at the beautiful Benzinger Family Winery.
A few moments after arrival, a man in a purple polo and khaki pants approached our group. This was Kerry, the most natural, knowledgeable tour guide I’ve ever encountered. He pulled us behind a big tractor, presenting the history of the Benzinger family, all in an approachable accident that I couldn’t quite place.
We saw the fields, we saw three pieces of equipment that cost more than my undergraduate education, and we saw the inside of a cave filled with barrels. Each barrel costs a couple thousand bucks, and each one only gets three uses. They likened it to a tea bag.
The tour ended, naturally, at the gift shop. Each person was handed large glasses of white upon entrance. It was at this point that we started making friends with the other tourers, snacking on skinny pretzel sticks and specialty olive oil.
I always wondered how wineries could get away with free wine tastings. Now I know. Even after the first sip, you’re trapped in the story that they’re selling you. Yes, you’re the kind of person that opens a bottle of fine wine with your friends at dinner. And how wonderful, to gift a bottle of such quality. You can have all this and more, and at such a reasonable price!
We were not saved from this fate. By the time we left, we’d purchased and uncorked a bottle of our own. No, it wasn’t a chardonnay, or a classic red. The millennial/GenZ influence was far too strong – rosé all the way.
Back on the bus, we headed across the mountains into Napa, arriving at the V.Sattui Winery. It was bustling. An open grill was the centerpiece to a courtyard full of families and groups, all enjoying the soft summer sun and decadent food.
We had another tour here, a less-unique repetition of the first. The building is what was really impressive. It was almost like a castle; thick walls with coatings of ivy vines. Stepping into the fields, we were allowed to taste the berries straight off of the plant. They weren’t great – unsurprising as they were a ‘fruit’ designed to be made into wine, not to be eaten raw.
We had lunch in a reserved courtyard, along with another wine tasting. In a tipsy haze, we somehow all made it back on the bus, and immediately fell asleep for the rest of the ride back to campus.
It was a grape time.