<![CDATA[Thinking-Drinking - Blog]]>Sat, 21 Mar 2026 09:54:38 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[The Shenandoah Valley]]>Tue, 16 Sep 2025 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/the-shenandoah-valleyAlong the switchback mountain roads near Salem, Virginia, I had just driven over the highest part of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and I spied a clearing in some trees– an informal look-out over the valley below. Pulling off-road, the wheels slid a bit in the rocky Appalachian gravel, and a precipice lay just beyond some vegetation. There was no guardrail.
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Stepping out of the car, sunbeams cut through the gravel dust cloud. A patch of trees emerged ahead, their roots clinging to the cliff’s edge, their trunks bowing down into the abyss before soaring up again into the sky. Peeking between the branches, the sun stings my eyes, and my throat tightens as the full majesty of the Shenandoah Valley spills forth before me. From this perch, the scattershot farms spread out like an antique quilt made of green and ochre cloth. In both directions, the mighty South Fork of the Shenandoah River glints and winks as it cuts through a sea of fields, snaking wide and powerful, flanked by vibrant green fields, villages, and exuberant abundance. This is the Shenandoah Valley: at once peaceful yet ferocious, stingy yet generous, vast yet pinched between a tiny fold in the mountains. 

Flanked by the second oldest mountain range on the planet, the Appalachians, the Shenandoah Valley is ancient. The Appalachian Mountain range dates back about 480 million years. When these mountains formed, early shelled organisms and primitive fish swam in the waters, but dinosaurs and sharks had not yet evolved. This was a time of sea algae, but no land plants. Yes, the Appalachian Mountains pre-date trees! After these mountains rose up, they stood for a hundred million years before plants appeared on them. The Appalachian Mountains are eight times as old as primates, twenty times as old as Aotearoa New Zealand, and forty-eight times as old as modern civilization. 

The oldest part of the Appalachian Mountains, the Blue Ridge Mountains, lie to the east of the Shenandoah Valley. Just shy of a quarter of the age of our solar system, the Blue Ridge is twice as old as the rest of the Appalachian range and dates back a billion years– but the Blue Ridge looks younger. Its peaks and mounds are rough and new-looking compared to the west side of the Shenandoah Valley. This is because the eastern edge of the Shenandoah Valley is more geologically active than the Shenandoah Mountain and Appalachian plateau on the west side.  In the east, the landscape is regularly reshaped by small quakes, uplifts, and mudslides. 

The ancient valley soil is full of secrets. There are so many treasures to be found in this valley, it’s almost impossible to believe! The land is peppered with crystal clear underground lakes that lie so still you’ll mistake the reflection of the cave ceiling for the ground. Hidden beneath the limestone hills you’ll find chambers and caves of rock formations that look like scenes from Middle Earth. In the center of the valley, Massanutten Mountain rises up like an island in a sea of patchwork farms, and it’s an area where you can boat on the lake, visit lavender farms, or ski the trails, all in the same day. The foothills of Massanutten are ideal for grapevine growing, and several wineries have planted in this area. To the west, vineyards give way to forests, forests give way to orchards, and eventually you’ll reach the famous geothermal mineral springs of Bath County – a favorite spa for multiple US presidents, and the maple syrup and lamb farms of Highland County. The Shenandoah River teems with trout, and the valley bursts with natural wonders and bountiful farms. You can spend a lifetime discovering the abundance and majesty of the Shenandoah Valley. 

Erosion from the Appalachian Plateau, Shenandoah Mountain, and the Blue Ridge flow into the Shenandoah Valley, and the fertile sediments build up atop limestone bedrock. Waters trickle into the valley and feed the North Fork on the northwestern side of Massannutten, and the South Fork on the southeastern side of Masannutten. The forks converge into one powerful Shenandoah River at Front Royal, where the water flows northward to Harper’s Ferry and feeds the Potomac River. Thousands of years of sediments combine with active rivers to create complex and fertile farmland that has attracted people to this valley for at least 12,000 years.

Winegrowers have converted many Shenandoah farms to vineyards over the last 20 years. Vineyards have replaced fruit orchards, wheat farms, and dairies. The steep and rough hillsides in this region are not easy to farm. Winegrower Jeff White, of Glen Manor in Warren County, knows this firsthand. His vines are perched atop a ridge that is exhausting to hike. “This is a mountain farm, and much of the farm is steeply sloped. With less fertile soils, the land was first planted with apple and peach trees. It is high on these mountain slopes above where orchards once flourished that we now grow our wine,” he said. His low-intervention vineyards seem wild and windy, and the winery looks like a small speck in the distance when viewed from the vines. Jeff transitioned his family farm to produce grapes, and he grew the vineyards from about six acres in 1995 to eighteen acres today. Winemakers like Jeff have re-made the Shenandoah Valley for a new generation. They’ve jumped into the fray and made magic happen with the vineyards… with no guardrails.
]]><![CDATA[Podcast Episode: The Ancient Roots of New Zealand's Canterbury Wine Region]]>Sun, 10 Mar 2024 22:52:02 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/podcast-episode-the-ancient-roots-of-new-zealands-canterbury-wine-regionGet to know the wine region around Christchurch, New Zealand on this immersive journey!

​In this episode we explore Canterbury, New Zealand through ancient geological history, a rich fossil record, and North Canterbury's modern wine industry. We'll explore the city of Christchurch, and discover its resilience through several crises. We'll visit a few wineries in Waipara, and we'll talk to some movers-and-shakers in the wine industry.
Research for this episode came together over 11 years of research and two visits to the South Island. 

You’ll hear conversations with:
Tim Ogle - Cellar Door Wine Bar Owner 
Fergus Winters - The Bone Line 
​
Other supporting research sources include:
A 2017 University of Otago Masters Thesis by Georgia Kerby about the Redcliffs Archeological History
Newspaper articles and advertisements from the Ashburton Guardian and Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser 
Artifacts and Exhibit Information at the Nelson Provincial Museum 
Peter Ballance’s New Zealand geology guide, illustrated by Louise Cotterall
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Theme Song “If You Get It, You Get It” by Ben Sanner 
Episode written, voiced, and produced by Erin Scala
]]><![CDATA[Classic Cocktail: The Martini]]>Thu, 16 Feb 2023 21:15:32 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/classic-cocktail-the-martini
]]><![CDATA[The Wines of Pico Island]]>Mon, 27 Dec 2021 15:58:33 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/the-wines-of-pico-island
The fascinating wines from Pico Island! 
]]><![CDATA[The Wines of Lake Garda]]>Wed, 05 May 2021 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/the-wines-of-lake-gardaIn December of 2019, I went to Lake Garda in Italy, near Verona in the north, to learn more about the wines there... 
If you've been curious how ancient Rome continues to influence the wines there today, check out this podcast that looks deep into the history and culture of Lake Garda wines: 
]]><![CDATA[The Oregon Wine Selection in Virginia is Awesome]]>Fri, 22 Jun 2018 05:36:06 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/the-oregon-wine-selection-in-virginia-is-awesomePicture
When I first moved to Virginia, I was blown away by the great selection of Oregon wines in the state. It didn't seem to make sense until I did some digging and discovered that Oregon wines have a long history in Virginia.... 
]]><![CDATA[Wine Spectator's Wine Experience]]>Wed, 25 Oct 2017 03:28:47 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/wine-spectators-wine-experience
It was so much fun to be a part of this year's Wine Experience Sommelier Team. For the seminars, we opened up over 100 bottles of 1977 port and decanted them off the sediment, vetted several Gaja bottles for a comparative tasting, opened wines for pairings for the Chef's Challenge (Barboursville vermentino was paired with Chef José Andrés' dish!), and tasted a through a special vertical of Chateau Margaux. 
]]><![CDATA[Amber Pinot Gris in Virginia....]]>Sat, 30 Sep 2017 16:23:23 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/amber-pinot-gris-in-virginia
When Jake Busching and Joy Ting made a tiny batch of skin-fermented pinot gris a few years back, they kept revisiting the barrel until it tasted just right. Teaming up with Charlottesville wine professionals Will Curley (Ten Course Hospitality) and Priscilla Martin Curley (Tavola), they bottled the 'orphan' barrel as 'Orphan No. 1.' They hope to find more barrels in other wineries and bottle them under the label series. 

<-- Here's a link to my article in Knife & Fork magazine about the project. 
]]><![CDATA[A Land Called Honah Lee (Orange County, Virginia)]]>Thu, 14 Sep 2017 16:49:45 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/a-land-called-honah-lee-orange-county-virginia
For years, I've been hearing winemakers gush about the special fruit from Virginia's 'Honah Lee' mountain vineyard, so I reached out to the owners to learn more about it.

Yes, Honah Lee is named after the mystical land in Peter, Paul, & Mary's 'Puff, The Magic Dragon' song. The vineyards start around 650 feet and rise up to the top, where you'll find some old-vine viognier at about 1,000 feet. Two turkey barns sit in the middle of the vineyards. Here's a link to their full story. 
]]><![CDATA[Making Wine]]>Wed, 06 Sep 2017 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.thinking-drinking.com/blog/making-wine
I enjoy working with winegrowers who make wine from vineyards they've tended, and who shepherd the stuff from start to finish with a cohesive vision. It doesn't seem right to walk in at the very end of the process and quickly buy some grapes or juice, or slap a label on a shiner, and suddenly claim winemaker status. I never wanted to be a sommelier who "made my own wine." In my view, it's my job to source and support winegrowers, not create. 

For this reason, I always swore that I'd never, ever, make wine... until last harvest, when I did. 
In 2016 I was researching for an article about passito wine. At the suggestion of a winemaker friend, I took up a tiny project to learn more by going through the process and making a small amount of it. I thought I could gain more insights into the production side if I watched a wine through from harvest to bottling. With the help of some friends, I harvested about 10 small lugs of grapes, dried them by fan, pressed them in a tiny basket press, and fermented the juice in a glass demijohn. I held back a small beaker of inoculated juice to add to the demijohn of must-- but only as a last resort if I couldn't get a ferment started with the native yeasts.

I lost the demijohn of wine to a bad fermentation. But I did make about eight tiny bottles of tasty passito dessert wine from the beaker-- meager gains from a small experiment. Though the amount of wine is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, I learned much about winemaking in the process. The palpable, tactile joys of handling the grapes, the smells and sounds of a fermentation-- all these things brought me closer to wine. 

Hearing the satisfying "glug" as a gas bubble first made its way through the air-lock and signaled fermentation had begun, watching CO2 bubbles churn during the fermentation as tiny universes of yeast worked through their micro-life-cycles, and performing mundane tasks like siphoning without disturbing lees-- all the small decisions-- increased my appreciation for the motions and quotidian labors of winemaking. I always knew these things happened, but by performing them, I saw them in a new light.

Outside of educational experiments for professional growth, I still approach 'sommelier winemaking' with extreme caution. And yet, just yesterday I found myself bottling some experimental PetNat to see what happens... There's a certain gravitational force that pulls a wine lover to make wine. I already relish the day when I can pop the first bottle of PetNat, irregardless of what quality it might embody. I'm now viscerally connected to that wine and to this vintage. ​I can only imagine that this fierce connection to the casual wines I've "made" must be much more intense for the great winemakers of the world. 
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