
Wines I Keep in the Fridge All Summer Long
These are the wines I keep chilled on repeat all summer — dry whites, serious rosés, and chilled reds that go with everything from snacks to sunsets.
These are the wines I keep chilled on repeat all summer — dry whites, serious rosés, and chilled reds that go with everything from snacks to sunsets.
Ever wonder why some wines feel refreshing, some feel drying, and some feel rich? Here's your simple guide to understanding wine’s structure: acidity, tannin, and body.
Some wines are flawless. Seamless. Technically perfect. And sometimes… they’re forgettable. This post is about the wines that don’t try to be perfect—and end up being unforgettable.
Soil doesn’t flavor the wine—but it shapes everything about how it’s made. From tension and structure to ripeness and depth, here’s why dirt matters more than you think.
Sometimes the wine outshines the occasion. You open a bottle expecting background music and instead get a full symphony. This post is about those moments—when the wine deserved more than the room it was poured in.
People ask me all the time: What’s a good bottle for a dinner party? A gift? Just because? These are the wines I find myself recommending over and over—not because they’re trendy or expensive, but because they’re reliable, interesting, and joyful in all the right ways.
Not all “good” wines are memorable. Some are precise, technically perfect—and utterly forgettable. When I say a wine is good, I don’t just mean correct. I mean it made me care. It made me pause. It gave me something to think about.
Losing my sense of smell meant losing wine entirely. I had built my life around tasting—and suddenly, I couldn’t. But somewhere between cardamom pods and a glass of Pinot, I found my way back
Palate fatigue doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving wine—it just means you’ve gone too long without feeling it. If every wine starts to taste the same and nothing feels good, step away. It’ll be better when you come back.
Writing tasting notes isn’t about sounding smart—it’s about remembering the wine, how it felt, and when you’d want it again. Here’s how I approach it as a WSET Diploma student—and how you can start too.
Some wines taste like celebration. Alma Rosa tastes like Tuesday—or at least, what you hope Tuesdays could be. Calm, clear, shared. A glass that fits in your hand while the grill sizzles and laughter carries on the wind.
A bottle from Howell Mountain didn’t just change my opinion—it rewrote what I thought Napa could be. Sometimes, great wine doesn’t shout. It meets you where you are—and leaves a mark.