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25 Jul 2017

Vine Social: After Moving to Napa, Our New Columnist Lost Her Love of Wine

Written by 
Katie Finn. Katie Finn.

You moved back to the desert? From Napa? On purpose?

Yep. And I couldn’t be happier.

Naturally, your next question might be whether I suffered some kind of head trauma or had a lobotomy. After all, I am in the wine business, so Napa should be my holy land, my Mecca. That was certainly the idea when the wine-distribution company I worked for moved me there seven years ago. They were going to get me out of the desert and put me where I belonged—to be among “my people.” After some convincing, I bought into that idea.

I had no clue how wrong that idea was.

It was March, and it was beautiful in Palm Springs—warm, sunny and with a plethora of exciting events happening all the time. So long, farewell, adieu.

It was March, and it was cold, rainy and dark in Napa. And it stayed that way for three months. After the initial climate shock and a pretty hefty credit card bill to purchase new sweaters, a slicker and galoshes, I settled in to my new normal—trying to get comfortable with the constant feeling I was at a party to which I wasn’t invited.

Don’t get me wrong; living in Napa was a great experience, especially for a sommelier. I ate, and drank, and made merry. I was surrounded by lush, green, rolling hills covered in meticulously mapped-out vineyards. Grand estates, chateaus and European-inspired villas dot the landscape. World-famous restaurants and iconic wines were a daily norm. At any given moment, I was rubbing elbows with a famous chef, lunching with a winemaker, or sitting across from master sommelier so-and-so.

But the more I immersed myself in the Napa wine scene, the more I longed for my desert home. I realized that for me, wine in Napa was a chore—a job that paid the bills, and because everyone was tied to the industry in one way or another, there was no escaping it. There was a palpable burden to be a wine expert simply because Napa was where we lived. Don’t you dare ask a question and reveal that you don’t already know everything there is to know about the world of wine.

I found myself homesick for the exploration and adventure that came with trying a new wine that I knew nothing about, and asking 100 questions to learn more, to dig deeper. I wanted the whole story, the history, the dirt and roots. Alas, wine had become serious business accompanied by fragile egos and meetings with the how-great-I-am du jour. The joy was gone.

After 12 years in the wine trade, I walked away.

What I had come to love and miss about the desert was the unapologetic hedonism of eating and drinking—people who drink wine for the love of drinking wine, with no swirling, sniffing and spitting required. I missed the freedom of knocking back a glass without a half-hour analysis of the nuances of this particular wine’s terroir. I wanted to go back to the days when I could talk about a wine with a genuine passion and enthusiasm. Unscripted and uncensored.

In my short time back in the desert, I’ve seen wine greatness. Servers I’ve spoken to are eager to become somms. The checkout clerk at Trader Joe’s is so excited about their rosé selection and can’t wait to give me some thoughtful recommendations. Friends want to share their latest wine find with me. There are fabulous, cutting-edge new restaurants and stellar, innovative wine lists. (Is that a Bandol blanc I see? Sip, sip, hooray!) There’s a curiosity about wine here that’s unblemished. The fantasy hasn’t been tainted by the reality.

The wine scene here still has some work to do, but it’s going to be exciting to watch it evolve, and I’m anxious to be a part of it. There is a longing for knowledge here that isn’t accompanied by pretention and is still rooted in the pleasure of the drink. There is a thirst for the wine world and all it encompasses without baggage and rules and etiquette. This is the wine experience at its best.

The grand irony, as it turns out, is that this is my holy land, and I am so thankful to back with “my people.”

So there you have it: I came back to the desert to enjoy wine again.

Go figure.

Katie Finn is a certified sommelier and certified specialist of wine with more than 15 years in the wine industry. She is a member of the Society of Wine Educators and is currently studying with the Wine and Spirit Education Trust. When she's not hitting the books, you can find her hosting private wine tastings and exploring the desert with her husband and two children. She can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

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