Favorite?

“It’s a tossup. Can’t decide between chicken soup or Ecco’s Pizza”

Jeremy’s answer to the, “So, what would you like for dinner your last night at home? I can make whatever you like, or we can go out” via text message as I was closing out my day at work yesterday. I tossed my backpack and a bottle of Menetou-Salon in the front seat of my car, checked my phone to see if a decision had been reached, the empty envelope thing telling me that this was a tough one for the kiddo, shrugged and headed home.

Chatted myself up on the thirty minute drive from the shop to my home. Reminded myself how very proud I am of my son having the courage to be on his own. How excited he must be to be looking down the barrel of a brand new adventure; moving to a new city, trying to get into Grad school, moving even further from home. All things, that no matter how strong and courageous people like to say I am…not sure I would do. I let my pride keep my tears at bay, flipped the station if any song had the remote possibility of making me too emotional or feel too sad. I had promised myself that I would not give in to the night before the baby leaves blues this time. Dammit.

Walked in the house to see the kid futzing with the new phone Carl bought him that afternoon, (see I cook and cry….dad buys electronics) then looked to the kitchen to see if there was soup fixins awaiting me. “I went with Ecco’s” Jeremy grinned and went back to playing with his new gadget. I was a little surprised seeing as I drive past his beloved pizza joint every day on my way home, I had thought they would just have me swing by and pick it up but no, neither he nor Carl wanted to add any more time to my drive. They let me drive home and Carl bounced off to pick up Jeremy’s Ecco’s Special. Thus leaving me….alone, with the kid on the eve of his leaving. “Keep your shit together Sam” my mantra playing in a loop as I settled down beside my handsome, phone futzing son.

Basketball a welcome distraction, the cool gin & tonic I had poured myself a liquid partner in courage and I leap into some idle banter with the baby. We talked about his plans for the rest of the evening, what he did that day, when he was scheduled to be back at work and a little about his upcoming move in May. Easy, kept it light and easy…I could do this. Gin in my belly causing me to settle my guard, cheering and whistles coming from the huge flashing box keeping the thoughts of feeling sad far, far away. It felt just like any other night, not the last night, that was until Jeremy, who like myself is not a terribly cuddly creature, moved the remote control from the cushion between us on the couch, swung his long legs to the side and rested his head in my lap. Felt the knot forming in my throat but fought the urge to scoop him up…like I could anyway, or smother him with the years of kisses I’d been storing away, holding on to, just in case he needed them. Instead I took a sip of my drink, gently rubbed his man sized arms and let my nails run across the hairline I had kissed a million times. I could feel his shoulders melt and puddle against my leg and in the sweetest tone Jeremy whispered, “You’re my favorite” the knot nearly choking the air from my throat, my heart ripping a little but so determined not to wreck this moment or hurt his heart in any way, I stroked that hairline again and whispered “Oh baby, you’re my favorite too” No more words needed. We sat like that for a few more minutes, silent but knowing.

Jeremy and I found ourselves alone on the couch once again, this time it was nearly 1:00 AM, both of us with heavy eyes but not wanting to go to bed just yet, just sitting beside our favorite, no words, just knowing. I knew I was seconds from losing it, I stood and gave my customary, “Alright the baby. I’m going to bed” just didn’t want to ruin anything, make this harder for him, by seeing me cry. He seemed to grow as he stood from the couch, the same couch where just hours before he was my tiny little man again, resting his head on my lap. Now he was tall, grown and the handsome young man that I was going to have to say goodbye to in the morning. That knot, yeah it was back. We leaned in for our goodnight hug, one kiss on each cheek and a kiss on my forehead…always, this has always been my greeting and my goodbye with Jeremy, our arms wrapped extra tight around each other, my head resting upon his shoulder, this time it was me melting and my son scooping me up. 

I managed to make it to my room before the tears just broke lose. Not sobbing, not hurt, not even sad really…not sure how to describe it, it just is. Sure it hurts, just in the way that I fear letting Jeremy see my tears might make him think. Happy for him. Excited for him. So very proud of him. Lonely for him. Scared for him. Nervous for him. Spent the better part of my life feeling all those things and on the eve of his leaving, nuzzled into my bed, the tears landing upon my pillow, each one containing all I still have left to give him, hope. Hope that all he wishes comes true and the hope that he knows how very much he is loved.

Woke this morning, knot still there but “You’re my favorite” making me stand very tall and ready to hold it together, at least until I got to my car. Walked past Jeremy’s room, the comforter covered lump that makes me smile, the pile of folded clothes….not my favorite. Got my coffee, settled into the couch, sipped away, checked my email and fired off some work emails before logging on to Facebook. Fucking knot returned when the most recent friend status was six hours ago:

Jeremy Keith Dugan- “Wish this were easier”

That little ripping of my heart, yeah it gave a little more.

I too wish this were easier Baby….would give anything I have to make it so. I can’t. This hurts and never seems to get easier but, you are my favorite, always.

I can hear you packing as I type this

Not my favorite

I feel your leaving like an elephant on my chest

Not my favorite

I know that walking out the door this morning is going to rip fiercely into my heart

Not my favorite but….

Our couch is here

Our memories are here and

They are, along with you

My favorite

Go get ‘em Baby

I love you so….

Cheese & Wine Feature

Featured Wine:

2010 Heidi Schrock Gelber Muskateller $25.99

Also known as Yellow Muscat, Gelber Muskateller is a central European variant on the more famous and flowery Muscat a petits grains, (or Muscat Canelli). Not as delicate or made in a sweet style here, this wine offers irresistible floral aromas and bright grapefruit flavors. Quite rare as the grape tends to be problematic; susceptible to rot and often giving very low yields, so very little Gelber Muskateller is even planted. Randy and I ran across this wine while at a trade tasting, one featuring many of Austria’s most revered estates and this wine was the one that stole the show for me. Because of the wild floral aromas and intense citrus, grapefruit flavors this wine can be difficult to pair with food and we often recommend it be served as an aperitif, but with the right cheese? Brilliant!

Featured Cheese:

Somerdale Farms Black Mountain

A mature Welsh Cheddar that has been enhanced with white wine, garlic and herbs this big flavored and rather creamy cheese has been a store staple for many years now. Softer than your average Cheddar, the cheese is nearly spreadable in texture which gives it the most delightful mouth coating richness. The wine, garlic and herbs are explosive and the most dominate flavors for sure. A great cheese plate cheese, shamefully good on a burger and down-right perfect with very aromatic wines like German Riesling, or say something like an Austrian Gelber Muskateller. A very cool pairing and one that will feed the inner wine and or cheese geek in us all.

Um, Dude...Shut Up

When I first got into wine, not just in the wine business but really into wine, I used to wonder why so many of the people that came into our shop were confused, nervous, would profess their lack of knowledge with the scrunched brow of the truly pained and seemed to turn the shopping for what should be something pleasurable into something akin to a visit to the dentist or gynecologist. I would stand there, big goofy grin on my face while these poor people would shift their weight from one foot to the other, hem and haw, tug at loose strings on the sides of their jeans while they sheepishly expressed their desire to find a wine, to go with whatever, at such and such price point, in nearly whispered tones as if they were confessing their sins to a priest or asking for a box of ribbed for her pleasure condoms from behind the counter. Never got that and as soon as I found enough swagger in my wine slinging step, I made it my personal charge to make every single one of the people that walked through the doors of The Wine Country feel comfortable enough to ask and tell us anything. 

We aren’t priests, (although I have worn a collar, but only once and never at work) and we aren’t here to judge or impose our ideas or palates on anyone. You want to drink sweet red with your spaghetti and meatballs? Right on, I’ll show you the wines we have that will hit that sweet spot for you. You want to spend $8.00 on a bottle to go with your $35.00 a pound ribeyes? Right this way. You need a red wine to go with lobster? Well you tell me what you like to drink and I will happily slip a bottle under your arm that will be just what you asked me for. Not my place, unless asked, to tell you what you should be drinking and enjoying. That has been the way we’ve done things for years at the shop and while we continue to write articles, teach classes and offer our suggestions when we fear someone is on the track of wine and food pairing destruction, in the end it will always be your palate we aim to please. Period. So why the nervous and creased faces? Took only one click of my cursor on a friend’s posted Facebook link the other day to remind me….fucking crappy ass magazines.

Long time readers are all too familiar http://sansdosage.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-quitting-you.html with my vein-popping irritation with Food & Wine magazine and their cheese loaded, half-assed, half-hearted, “Ugh!” inducing, shit articles about wine. I’ve not only gone after them here but I ended up canceling my over ten year subscription due to their lack of understanding and actual appreciation for wine…you know, the beverage that they named half their ragazine after?! Yeah, so finally picked off that scab and now, well now I’ve got goddamn Facebook to alert me of all the pomposity and douchebaggery my beloved business has to offer. Yay?

So being the Champagne buyer for the store I was bound to click on an article someone linked about Valentine’s Day Sparklers. Had to right? No, no I really didn’t but I did. Should have scrunched my own brow and backed away slowly when I saw the cartoon picture of a man with sleek black hair…tying on a bowtie. I didn’t. “Who is this misogynistic effusive prick?!” the not so whispered, through clinched teeth, growl that inspired both my husband and son to emerge from the back of the apartment to see what it was I was fuming about. No wonder people think we are all crank yanking asshats…

So this, paid for, (grrrrr) article starts with,

“Depending on when you are reading this you have between two and six weeks to ace your plans for the Big V. Yes, that’s Valentine’s Day-for her the most important day of the year”

Okay, now if this is true, the first tip I might give is to stop dating 16 year olds. Really? The most important day of the year?! So “The Big V.” stands for “has vagina and will wig if you don’t pretend that this Hallmark sponsored day of love appreciation is not rightly recognized”?? Has she been pining away all day, ringing her apron and wrapping her curler heavy head in toilet paper waiting…breathlessly, all day for your to punch the old clock at 5:00 giving her just enough time to slither into that, “something pretty” you bought her, remove the curlers and brush out her curls, with a good spray of Aqua Net of course, and pouty her lips before you get home? I’m guessing not, dickwad.

Shut Up

“Plenty of relationships have tanked on St. Valentine’s Day, (adding the St. part is very important here…lets the reader know the author knows history and junk, therefore, wicked smart and a man to be listened to) because the guy’s efforts didn’t measure up to expectations”

She was already looking for a way out jackhole. If you think it’s really because you bought carnations instead of roses, you’re dumber than I thought. And…

Shut Up 

“The best way to avoid disaster is to start the evening with a bottle of fizz”

Is fizz cooler or more man-like than bubbles? You just toss out the manned up term “Fizz”? Yeah, I’m sure you do and you probably call the one black man in your office, “Bro” complete with the teeth sunk into your thin bottom lip and a fist pump, rest your sunglasses on the back of your neck and give the head toss and “Yo!” to any dude that is younger, (and far cooler) than you are. You are quite the catch dude, might I suggest carnations?

Shut Up

He then goes on to talk about Prosecco, (yeah and I’m sorry, I still think it’s stupid) and Cava. He instructs his fellow Bros and Dudes that these are very fashionable right now but there is a dearth of shit ones to wade through, (and doesn’t tell you which to avoid…useful that) but is sure to give the “relationship saving” advice that at least they are cheap!

Please, Just Shut Up

He then goes on to further confuse shit with descriptions like”

“Almost ethereal in its delicacy. Elusive as early morning mist and just as beguiling”

“If she has a penchant for sweeter wines, this is the way to her heart, and your future well-being”

“despite its highly suspect bright scarlet color, this is a surprisingly balanced and grown up wine. A touch of cherry cola…..”

“It leaves the impression of crystalline clarity”

“Displays and impressive haughtiness”

Um, Dude

Shut Up….

On The Eve's

Fuck I’m tired.

“It’s almost over” the smiling face of a customer days before Christmas, trying to perk me up or let me know that they understood and felt how nutty things in retail get this time of year. I love that they take the time to console or acknowledge how hard we are working. “Very sweet of them” is what I say to myself right before, “But I have one more week to go.”

Yes the Christmas Crazies are over but as the Champagne specialist, my work here is not even close to being done. The week between Christmas and New Year’s is traditionally one of my busiest of the year, as I’m sure you can imagine, but this year, well this year Randy and I conspired to ratchet up the pressure a wee bit. 

This has been a difficult year, for everyone and especially for small business like ours. We’ve seen a frightening number of independent stores and restaurants fold this past year, slower sales combined with visionless landlords greedily hiking up the rent in a time when every single dime is needed to keep those companies breathing. The families that started, sweat and believed in those businesses forced to close their doors leaving one more empty storefront or giving our community yet another, much needed, Rubio’s, Starbucks, Jamba Juice or BevMo. The diversity and complex landscape of our beloved city slowly being demolished, reconstructed and painted with a fresh new coat of medium. Fucking depressing and something that Randy and I have been busting our asses, for over fifteen years, to not let happen to The Wine Country. We’ve been saying it for the past two years, “We are working three times as hard for less money” but you know what, we’re still here. A bit exhausted, a little stressed, eking through the slow months with a little less inventory and smaller staff but….we believe in the store and truly believe that we are an asset to the community that we love. So, we fight on….

With New Year’s Eve falling on a Saturday this year it gave us the opportunity to slip in a couple extra tastings. This would normally be the time for resetting, taking down Christmas decorations, attending to the farm of dust bunnies that have gathered beneath the racks and counters, writing the next newsletter and maybe catching a quick breather before picking up arms and battling through the typically slow month of January but…..well, that Thursday and Friday, days that we conduct our tastings during the rest of the year, just sitting there, this perfect storm of a last chance to boost our December sales. Two days before a holiday that just so happens to revolve around a wine that inspires sellout crowds, even in the slow months, Champagne. We went for it. Booked a Thursday afternoon “commuter” tasting for 29^th, one focused on Champagne for $40 and under and scheduled a year-end, Best of the Year Champagne class for Friday the 30^th. We had no idea what the response would be, people wiped from the holidays, out of town, tightening their pocketbooks after spending during the holidays, but we rolled the dice.

“There are 25 people on the waiting list” I told Randy when he asked how the sign-ups were going for the Friday night event. I had been experiencing a gentle gnawing in my belly for days, just this conflicting feeling of, “What if?” and “But I’m not sure it’s possible” that feeling was completely squashed when Randy said, “Hey, what if?” We drafted an email and put out calls to everyone on the waiting list, we were going to have to do a second class. Saturday night was out being New Year’s Eve and all and we couldn’t really ask people to turn out mid-week, so that left only Thursday, the day we were already hosting a tasting from 4:30-6:45…on Champagne no less. “What the hell, the worst that can happen is people won’t sign up. We will still have the afternoon event and Friday is packed. Let’s do it”

Tuesday and Wednesday had me feeling all panicky again, the sign ups were coming fast and furious for the second class and I was watching Champagne fly out the door which left me wondering if I would have enough to pour let alone sell…and the 28^th of December is NOT the time to be bringing in stacks of bubbles in the hopes that they are going to sellout. Panic. The short staff thing reared its head again when I looked at the schedule and the only helper I was going to have was our newest employee, one that had never worked a tasting before. Panic. And then the realization of having to try and clean up from one event, set up chairs and tables…for forty people, complete with place settings and glassware, open and taste the wines for the second event, with not nearly enough hands on deck, in like thirty minutes. Total fucking panic. I walked in yesterday afternoon feeling completely overwhelmed, stressed, cranky and nearly nauseous.

The afternoon event was very well attended, haven’t seen the final number yet, (no time to dick around with reading reports in between the two events….hardly had time to pee as a matter of fact) but it was over fifty people, some of whom were still milling about as we whisked away the glasses for cleaning, popped up tables and began setting up the chairs. I grabbed my wines from the sales floor fridge, oh did I mention that having only one fridge in the tasting room meant that I was going to have to store the 40 bottles of Champagne needed for the second event in the cooler that we sell wine from? Thus more bits of panic as I feared that people were going to buy the wines I needed to pour…argh! Filled a shopping cart with icy cold Champagne and ran them to the tasting room just in time for the “Bing-Bong of the front door to alert me that our guests for the night were beginning to filter in. Tables set, chairs awaiting, cheeses and potato chips in their baskets and trays, my hands still freezing and beginning to sore from popping the corks on the Champagne bottles from the earlier tasting, tiny beads of sweat puddling in that concaved area at my lower back, my uber-manager need to have this all look as if it came off flawlessly causing my heart to thump away in my chest and my breath to escape in tiny bursts. My eyes now falling upon the cart of wine that still needed opening, and tasting, my panic reaching its peak and that was when I heard, “What can I help you with Momma?”

My Baby standing there, tall, strong, handsome as hell, there to attend his first ever Champagne class, My Champagne class, reading me like a book and jumping in to help. If I felt like crying before it was nothing compared to the blubbering that would have happened had I allowed myself to show the absolute relief I felt in that second. The seats began to fill while my husband, my son and I ripped off foils, cages and popped corks. Halfway through I left the boys in charge of the opening duties and I ran through the wines at a feverish and quite frankly, burp inducing pace. Wines opened, tasted and the ones in the later flights placed back in the now free tasting room fridge and I looked at my watch to see, 7:25. We did it, with five minutes to spare…

I spun around to see a room full of faces, all happy to be there and ready to partake of my supposed wisdom and wines that I have spent over ten years preaching about. My son and husband taking the last two empty seats, (I had reserved two for them, right up front, next to me) in a class we were fearful might not generate enough interest to even happen. I took a huge chest filling breath, let my eyes fall upon those faces, some new, some so very familiar, their dimes breathing life into our small business and their want to be there that night breathing life into me. Grateful does not begin to describe it.

So yeah, I’m tired as hell. Got tonight’s Champagne class and New Year’s Eve still looming but the gratitude and hope that last night gave me soothes each tiny ache and has me craving the tingle of bitty little beads of hard earned sweat puddling at the base of my back. We fight and struggle not just to keep the lights on and make money, (although fuck, that would be nice) we do it just as much for our community, our city and for those of you that would put your name on a waiting list to taste anything-but-regular Champagne. 

Thank you

Thank you all

Your humble, stressed, sweaty, hopeful wine slinger,

Samantha

Weekly Feature?

It was at The Wine Country holiday party that Randy announced that he would like me to do a weekly feature of the store website in the coming year, a weekly wine and cheese pairing. I dug the idea, I mean I do loves me some cheese and my inner (okay, I know it's an outie) geek truly gets off on wrapping my head around pairing ideas. "That should be fun!" I buzzily responded and returned to over drinking my Champagne. 

"I think we should start that pairing thing this week" Randy just days after the party. Huh?! You want to start that now? Right as we start having our assess handed to us in the holiday rush? Apparently the look of horror on my face was not enough incentive to sway him from his new idea and, "Yes!" with a big excited smile was what I got in return. And even though I was....well, a little less excited about taking on another duty, smack-dab in the middle of holiday craziness, well that damn smile and enthusiasm of his simply wrecks me, "Well alrighty then" was all I could say.

We've done them for a couple weeks now and I just sent off the one that will appear tomorrow on the website but as I was sitting here noshing my Triscuits, (note to self, save that term for later usage)  and mortadella on my lunch break, feeling guilty that I have not posted in over week, guiltier even that I just found out that we are going to do a January newsletter, thus meaning that I will have even less time to write, it hit me. Why not post my pairings here as well? Buys me a day or two, I get double exposure on the pairings I slave (well I don't sweat or anything but I think real hard) over and it might get me my "Wine Blogger" card back or something. You know, by having some actual wine stuff on this here wine blog. Brilliant! Or lazy but as my greasy-with-mortadella fingers fly across the keyboard and I can feel the tiny pin prick of pressure that pokes the spot in my neck that reminds me I've been a bad blogger subsides...well I'm going to go with brilliant.  Least for today...

 

Featured Wine:

N.V. Camille Saves Grand Cru Carte d’Or Brut $67.99

I often speak of the wines from Camille Saves as being, “Game changers” meaning that they have the ability to turn people from occasional Champagne imbibers to full-fledged Champagne freaks. The Champagnes from this estate are an amazing mix between full, richly textured, powerful and grace, delicacy and elegance and I find that this Carte d’Or tends to be the biggest and brawniest of the bunch.

Rich and toasty will be your first impression, not a bad way to begin I would think, but the wine seems to grow, get more layered and complex the longer it’s open. Soon that toasty note will be joined with some salted caramel and browned butter. The power softened by the aromas and flavors of warm baked apples. The flavors linger forever and paired with the right food, well mind-bending.

Cheese:

Berthaut Epoisses Affine au Chablis ($14.99)

Epoisses is a French cow’s milk cheese with a rather pungent aroma, edible rind and when fully ripened, a hauntingly creamy texture. The smell would imply a fairly strong cheese but in fact the aroma is the strongest part. The flavor tends towards the salty side, but perfectly so and that saltiness is what makes this a very wine friendly cheese. Serve at room temp to get the full effect of the astounding creaminess in this, one of my favorite cheeses, ever.

Pairing:

When picking a pairing for the week of New Year’s it took me only a second to marry Saves and Berthaut. Going for the whole, “Go big or go home” kind of kick off for the New Year. Well, maybe it's more that my mind was seeking uber indulgence, something so gloriously luscious that it is nearly dirty. Camille Saves washing down a mouthful of pungent and almost feral, gooey, plump and heavy in the mouth cheese? The powerful and succulent fruit in the Camille Saves Carte d’Or paired with the achingly creamy, meaty, salty cheese sure as shit gets my heart racing and palate watering. Don't think budgets, diets, what you should or shouldn't...do it. Just do it. 

Wine Business (Kind of) Interview #11

Just to give all three readers a heads up, Who are you and what is your connection to the wine business?

I am Jeremy Dugan and my Cousin Randy has owned a wine store for 16 years(?). I worked for it for a while when I was in high school, and my mother is the general manager there.

And what is it you do now?

I work in retail at Dick’s Sporting Goods. I work in the shoe department.

How often do you drink wine now?

Not very often, can’t say I have grown much of a taste for it yet, minus of course a Moscato every now and then.

Drink of choice?

Gonna have to go with Bourbon and Coke. Makers and coke if I’m being specific, or as we 20 somethings like to call it; “being fancy”.

Your first wine memory?

Man this one might get you in trouble. It’s a dual moment of one glass of champagne at the age of 10 with my awesome “night vision goggles” and calling myself “Falcon Man”. Which is now ironic since one of my least favorite teams are the Falcons… Gaux Saints!!! The second memory is my 13^th birthday party at the end of the night finding out what a Moscato tasted like and enjoying it. Going along with the introduction to Moscato was the introduction to a hangover. Fun for any 8^th grader yes. 

  

In your very early days working at The Wine Country how were you paid?

Cheese, Brie more than anything. Man when I was a kid all I loved was the softness of that creamy cheese of toasted bread. Now I’m almost down with any cheese on bread.

Hangover cure of choice?

Hair of the Dog, go big or go home and cry the whole day.

What do you think were the most important things you learned from working in the wine/food industry?

How to deal with people. The wine/food industry, especially in L.A/L.A area, can be very uppity, people thinking because they can spend $100 on a single bottle of wine that they are better than those who are providing them with that wine. Well Rednecks aren’t much different from snobs in that sense. So patience and how to put on a smile and walk it off was my best lesson.

Playing rock star in your car, who do you pretend to be?

Lately, it’s been Prince. Don’t know why really, dude has some awesome lyrics and could wail on the guitar. So I guess those are reasons why.

Are “Wine People” snobby?

Hahaha I think a question or two above can sort of answer that question. There are snobs in every plan of existence. I have seen and spent many a night talking to Bourbon snobs about the “purity” of the Kentucky tap water. I have had conversations with shoe snobs who will rip on a last year’s version of a shoe because it’s not the new one. And don’t even get me started on some of the theater snobs I know. So yes and no, but that can be said for the world. 

 

Have you ever sneezed while peeing?

Yes and man let me tell you something, nothing worse than losing control of you stream while standing.

The thing you miss most about The Wine Country?

Puppy pack mentality. And the Christmas parties.

Does it bother you that I share so much about myself and our history on this blog?

Not at all, I’m proud of our history together. Wouldn’t want to keep it from anyone. But it does bother me that I find out your history from this blog. Things I never got told are told to all these people and things that are news to me are common things to them.

Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?

I think the better question is, do you know how proud I am of you?

Best food and wine experience you ever had?

Gonna have to say tossup between Craft and Arte last time I was in town. Gonna led more towards Arte since I started to actually get it then.

Besides the Champagne I gave you on New Year’s Eve when you were like seven or whatever, (Remember that? Do you also remember proclaiming yourself “Falcon Man!” after drinking it?) what was your first alcoholic beverage?

Whoops, I swear I didn’t read ahead….

Why did you have to move so far away? (That one is from Dad)

Needed to grow. I had seen what I was gonna see of Southern California at that point and time, and I needed to be somewhere else for a while so I could see what else was out there. And that’s why I’m moving again, growth is endless but you always arrive back at square one at the end of it all.

Does it ever feel weird that so many people know and ask about you all the time, both from the store and from here?

Yea, But kind of used to it cause of Louisville, so many people know me from other people out here I hear “Oh so you’re Dugan” a lot so it’s not as weird as before.

What did your mother teach you to always have in the fridge?

Always have a bottle of Champagne in it?

If you could build your ideal dinner party, up to fifteen people, alive or dead, who would be there, what would you be drinking and what foods would you want served? (This is an augmented “Last” or “Death Row” meal question as I am your mother and cannot even think of posing a question involving those two things to you)

I would say the guest list would include you, Dad, Robo, GG, Tessa, Wayne, Boy and Girl Merritt, Evan and Mers, Grandma, Maggie, AJ, Fredrick Douglass and Franklin Roosevelt. We would start out with fresh oysters, duck spring rolls and tri-tip sandwiches. Main course would be prime rib, sautéed mushrooms, fresh veggies and pork pies. For dessert we would have a HUGE cheese plate, gorilla bread and gooey butter cake. To drink, we’ll I’ve always been a b.y.o.b kind of guy so whatever each person’s little heart desired.

Do you think the wine business shaped your childhood in a way?

Without a doubt it did, not many kids grow up going to the restaurants I went to, or go to parties like the Wine Country events very often. All was for the good though, taught me a lot about food and having a good time.

Favorite Randy moment?

“Someone get that kid a sucker!” Cause that would shut up the kid screaming it’s little head off. And really any of the parties where he got a little toasty. 

 

If I told you that there is not one thing I am more proud of than being your mother and that you are the greatest love of my life, would you share a bottle of Champagne with me cuddled up on the couch during one of our late night talks?

Without a doubt.

In parting, is there anything you would like all three of my readers to know?

The woman you all listen to is crazy, she has no idea how special she is and why everyone likes her. She is strong, beautiful, funny (in that really cool smartass way) and knows how to throw down with the best of them. She always says she’s lucky to be my mother, and really I’m lucky she took a chance on me being her son. There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for her and nothing that will come between us. Our bond is odd, it is something very few people have, we can have the same thought from the other side of the country or say more words in one look than many people say in a book. We were lucky to find a man who could deal with both of our craziness, and he is lucky that we can deal with his too. And for anyone in the Southern California area who would like to see the awesome tripod from #408, I’ll be in town December 24^th-January 7^th and would love to meet you for a drink.

I would like to thank my wicked sweet son for taking the time out of his own retail holiday hell to do this interview with me. You, young man, own my heart, always make me so proud, (well aside from the passed out photo I got via your friends on Facebook) and your sweet words here....they made me cry, ya little bastard. I love you with all of my heart and am counting the days until you get home. Cannot wait. 

Christmas List

This is so on it....

 but only if it comes with that sexy as shit lumberjack shirt...

I could ride a bull, not spill a drop and get rid of these pesky front teeth at the same time. Badass