My pizza and wine tasting panel thoroughly enjoyed two wines that were suggested to me (albeit unknowingly) by what I like to call the “Texas Wine Blogging Trinity”—three people with amazing palates whose love of food, wine, and each other is downright infectious.

Last month, while my colleagues scoured the state for the perfect pizza, my tasting panel and I conducted some research of our own, sampling wines to pair with delicious, homemade pies. We came up with some unusual picks. First up, the Austrian varietal wine, Zweigelt.

This blog is not meant to focus exclusively on Italian wines, but here I go again. I just can’t help myself when there is something fascinating at every bend in the Italian wine road—in this case a grape called Casavecchia. Never heard of it? Neither had I.

The best word to describe my family gatherings during the recent holiday season is “bedlam.” With 40 or so people for dinner on two consecutive nights we went through a good deal of food—and gallons of wine.

In the advertising business (where I began my career) brand strategists are always looking to promote their clients’ “unique selling proposition"—some quality of the product (be it real or imagined) that sets it apart from the pack. The marketers of Champagne—long associated with celebration, romance, and sophistication— understood this concept way before Madison Avenue’s heyday.

I’m not sure when I began this tradition but I always have a bottle of Port on hand during the holidays. There is something about the richness and warmth of Port that really gets me in the spirit for the craziness of the season. Incidentally, this fortified wine from Portugal can also make a nice, last-minute gift for the wine lover in your life.

If most wine lovers are like me, they really aren’t looking for clever wine-related gadgets to offer as holiday gifts. They are looking for wine—and the more the merrier.

My friends used to marvel at how I managed to find the time to read so much—meaning actual literature, current events, and reports on culture that might make me vaguely interesting at a dinner party. But this is no longer the case.

I’m not a fan of sweeping generalizations—this applies to life as well as to wine. With that proviso I can state that, for the most part, I’ve never been a lover of California Pinot Noir.

With only a few days left before Thanksgiving, the question of what we’ll be drinking still lingers. There is always that “short list” of wines that work—Pinot Noir, Riesling, Gewurztraminer and the like but each year I like to try something a bit different.

There was a lot of buzz in New York last week with the opening of the latest Danny Meyer restaurant, Maialino. That buzz had been building for weeks in my house because my husband Richard—the newest career changer in the family—is part of the pastry team at this new Roman-style trattoria.

Pork chops with ginger plum sauce and a rich, spicy Gewurztraminer—a perfect match for a recent Sunday dinner that made me nostalgic for my European travels of last summer.

As part of my ongoing WSET Diploma, I had another exam this week, involving a case study on the debate surrounding wine closures—natural cork vs. synthetic vs. screw cap and everything in between. I researched the topic for a month before my exam and suffice it to say—they don’t call it a debate for nothing.

I cannot deny that I have a great affection—perhaps bordering on obsession for Italian wine. So when two students from Italy came to dinner last week I was determined to keep it All-American.

I like desserts that involve the use of dangerous equipment. Crème brulée, for example, can be made with a propane torch to lightly brown its crispy top of caramelized sugar.

Tiefenbrunner Feldmarschall von Fenner zu Fennberg Müller-Thurgau Vigneti delle Dolomiti IGT 2008 is—let’s face it—a mouthful even before you open the bottle.

My husband looks forward to the fall when it is too cold for the rest of his tomato crop to ripen—giving him the perfect excuse to make fried green tomatoes.

Last week I purchased two bottles of wine simply because I liked the labels. This was a first for me—a former graphic designer whom you might imagine could be easily swayed by an enticing visual treatment, especially on a product I love.

From a purely nutritional standpoint I have always disagreed with the notion that wine is food. But can wine be food for thought? It seems to me there are amazing little lessons hiding in every glass.

I’m going to talk about wine in a minute, but before I do, I need to come clean: until last week, I had no idea who Jon and Kate were—you know, the stars of the reality television show Jon & Kate Plus 8. I suppose I’m in the minority on this one.

According to Jancis Robinson’s Oxford Companion to Wine, Floc de Gascogne is the Armagnac region’s answer to Pineau des Charentes (the vin de liqueur of the Cognac region)—which, readers may recall, I embraced as the unhip new sip of this minivan-driving suburbanite who has officially lost her grip on cool.

The kids are back at school and I’ve finally gotten a chance—a few days late—to flip open my laptop and read the inaugural edition of the Palate Press—a new online wine magazine.

Our final day in Alsace was winding down and I had pretty much given up on trying to connect with wine producer Marc Tempé, the famed “Bear of Alsace.”

Alsace, France, is not only a world famous wine destination, but also a great place to reconcile two disparate notions of the perfect vacation. The teenage ideal: sleeping until noon. My ideal, calmly articulated each morning: “I didn’t drag your butts to Europe so you could sleep all day. Now, get out of bed and let’s mega-dose on culture and history.”

The medieval town of Eguisheim in Alsace, France is laid out in a series of concentric circles with several main streets named after three of the region’s most famous grapes—Rue du Riesling, Rue du Muscat, and Rue du Traminer—an indication that you’ve definitely arrived in white wine country.

La Route Du Vin in Alsace, France, is lined with storybook villages and colorful half-timbered houses all nestled against the Vosges—a forested mountain range sprinkled with castles. For a wine-loving Jersey girl with only two days to spare, a visit to La Route promised to be an exercise in frustration.

Imagine living in a suburban town sprinkled with picturesque hillside vineyards where you can stroll as part of your daily exercise routine. Yet you have all the conveniences of a large city nearby. That’s another reason why I love visiting the little neighborhoods in and around Stuttgart.

For most, Stuttgart is not a vacation destination that leaps to mind. But for me it’s a special place—the home of my dear friend Tom Bloch and, as I found out recently, also a destination for a unique wine experience.

A funny thing happened on my way to the Second Annual Wine Bloggers’ Conference last week when I found myself stranded at San Francisco airport then rescued by Marcio Ferreira, a modern day version of Ferdinand Magellan who somehow instinctively knew when to ignore the GPS system and when to follow it as we made our way to Santa Rosa in the middle of the night.

On the final day of the Second Annual Wine Bloggers' Conference, the group drove to Montemaggiore Vineyards, a small, mountainside property in Sonoma’s Dry Creek Valley named after Sicily’s Montemaggiore Belsito—the ancestral home of the current owners, vineyard manager Vincent Ciolino and his winemaker wife, Lise.

The Beatles may have invented the Magical Mystery Tour, but the planners of the Second Annual Wine Bloggers' Conference perfected it.

The Second Annual Wine Bloggers' Conference that I attended last weekend in the Sonoma and Napa regions of California involved countless wine tastings, gobs of food, fascinating people, dynamic presentations, and gorgeous vistas. It’s a tough job but somebody had to do it.

A year ago, I hardly knew what blogging was. This week, I’m heading to California to immerse myself in a world of food, wine, and new media at the second annual American Wine Bloggers Conference.

My friend Amelia said it best: If a wine could be a parfait, it would taste like the Henri Prudhon Saint-Aubin 1er Cru Sur Gamay 2003—a white Burgundy from a tricky vintage.

Mouclade is a wonderful French dish of mussels in a creamy, saffron- curry sauce that is both rich and delicate. One of the key ingredients is Pineau des Charentes, the French aperitif we discussed in our last post.

I live in the burbs. I drive a mini van. My grip on “cool” has officially loosened. So it’s only appropriate that I should embrace Pineau des Charentes, a fortified wine that, by some accounts, is not the hippest drink on the Paris nightclub circuit.

There are more than 40 wineries in the Garden State. Many are taking part in some fun wine events this summer. Here’s a sampling.

If you have been following this blog you know that in January I signed up for a particular form of self-torture manifested as the WSET Diploma—a demanding three-year course of study in wine and spirits. I passed my first exam month, leaving five more levels to go.

The sun was shining yesterday and suddenly I had a hankering for Kir—that summertime apéritif I drank back in art school when I mistook myself for a femme du monde.

Last night I drank a wine that definitely kicks it old school. R. López de Heredia Viña Gravonia Crianza 1999 is a white wine from one of the oldest bodegas in the Rioja Alta region of Spain.

What’s in a name? How about Pinot Gris, Pinot Grigio, Ruländer, Graubergunder, Malvoisie, Tokay d’Alsace and Szürkebarát—all names for the same grape, which is technically not a variety in its own right but a mutated clone of Pinot Noir. Talk about an identity crisis.

We know you just can’t get read enough about sake. In this post we share our tasting notes on a handful of premium varieties.

Sake is produced throughout Japan, from the Northern most island of Hokkaido to Okinawa. With thousands of breweries—each offering several different varieties of sake—one could spend a lifetime getting to know this intriguing beverage.

Sake has been a part of Japanese life and culture for some 2000 years. It is sometimes erroneously called “rice wine” but as I found out last week at a tasting of premium sake, some comparisons to wine are difficult to avoid.

Last week, at a fundraising event, I was introduced as a sommelier. Afterward, I needed to clarify for one very confused guest, that a sommelier is not a native of a tiny nation located on the Horn of Africa.

Every now and then, my boss, Sharon, will open what she calls a “stupid bottle of wine.” These bottles are so-called because, as she puts it: “It’s just a bottle of wine.” Yet their precious and rare nature allows them to command a price that most people wouldn’t dream of paying.

Dry rosé wine is produced the world over and has been catching on in the U.S. Here is a selection from around the globe that could have you sipping pink all summer long.

I’m going to make a bold statement: Real men drink rosé. In fact, rosé is making a comeback as a dry, refreshing, and versatile food wine of many a savvy wine drinker.

As a child, I loved to play in the dirt. Mud pies were my specialty. I could not have imagined that all these years later I would be studying dirt (soil, actually) as part of my ongoing wine certifications.

Before heading home from Italy, I wanted to share some food and wine highlights from our visit to Perugia, the ancient capital city of Umbria.

I pride myself on being adventurous, but here is a bit of advice for anyone planning to explore the wine regions of Umbria: rent a car with a GPS system.

Umbria as it turns out is not to be “taken” so easily. In fact, I couldn’t help wishing I’d spent a tad more time on the treadmill in preparation for the arduous climbs required to traverse each of these fortified Italian hill towns.

Hannibal invaded Umbria during the second Punic war. This week, it’s my turn.

When I married my husband, the tenth of fourteen children, a friend asked how I was able to remember all of my new in-laws’ names. Now that I am in the wine trade, I have a similar challenge in studying the French region of Burgundy.

Being in the wine business means constant schmoozing with famous wine personalities as I sip extravagantly expensive and rare vintages from the world’s most obscure appellations. OK, not really.

As promised, I want to share some tasting notes and producer information for the three Almacenista sherries I sampled at the recent “Taste of Revolution” event.

Sporting some seriously Che Guevara-like facial hair and carrying a pocket full of cured meat and salted almonds Fernando, our rep from T. Edward Wines, began a very special tasting of Almacenista sherries with the chant: Viva la Revolución!

Much thought is given to pairing wines with gourmet dishes or the choicest selections of meat, fish, and poultry. But what about more plebian fare like fries and gravy?

Here’s my idea of a holiday: a ski trip with my family to the charming little town of Sutton, just north of the U.S. border in Quebec—and an opportunity to sample the local wines.

As you might imagine, the tomboy with the bruised shins and head full of baseball stats didn’t grow up to be a hopeless romantic.

Customers will sometimes recoil from a delightful bottle of wine simply because it is has a screw cap closure rather than a cork. In such instances, one might think I am pointing a high-voltage stun gun in their direction.

Sometimes a glass of wine is all I need to deliver me from the frazzled circumstances of daily life. Anyone who has experienced rush hour at the Lincoln Tunnel can certainly relate to this.

In the entire world, 277 individuals can claim the distinction of Master of Wine. I am not one of them.

The varietal wine Grignolino does not garner a lot of press attention. But last night, as I enjoyed it with a plate of roasted chestnuts, it earned a special place in my heart.

I studied Spanish in high school and college and in 1985 spent a couple of months wandering around the Iberian Peninsula. On the trip, I discovered that Sherry (Jerez as it is called in Spain) is not the sickly sweet beverage that my grandmother sometimes enjoyed.

I grew up a tomboy in a neighborhood full of boys, four of whom were my brothers. I memorized sports statistics, played some outfield, and wore my bruised shins with pride. But the one thing I would never do was spit.

They say that Winston Chuchill fought for it and Marilyn Monroe took a bath in it. Whatever you do with the Champagne that you don’t drink this New Year’s, don’t let it languish indefinitely in your fridge waiting for a special occasion.

My library of wine books is always growing. With holiday gift giving upon us, here are three great reference books that transition seamlessly from bookshelf to coffee table.

Customers often ask me for “sulfite-free” wine.  When they do, I try to be as gentle as possible in delivering the scandalous news that there is no such thing.

I experienced quite a bit of Europe on a backpacking trip before the onset of adulthood. Alas, I never made it to Greece until last night, when I finally got my first taste of Santorini.

The Thanksgiving leftovers are finally gone, but there are still those half-empty wine bottles to contend with. What’s a person to do?

My husband is the chef in our house. I do two things in the kitchen. One of them involves a corkscrew.

Deciding which wines to pair with the wide range of flavors, textures and aromas that find themselves together on Thanksgiving Day might seem like a daunting task. It doesn’t have to be.

I have always told my children that hate is a useless emotion. Frankly, I am far too lazy for the effort it requires—an effort that is especially wasted when directed at a bottle of wine.

Last year I walked away from a twenty-year career and a six-figure salary to work at my local wine shop. This being the 21st century, I’ve now been invited to share my passion for wine through this new blog.