Wine Archives

A Spider-Man Movie and a Finger Lakes Wine Tasting

We did not plan on stopping. The plan was simple: catch the new Spider-Man, drive home, maybe eat something if the timing worked out. But the road back runs through the west side of Seneca Lake, and the Finger Lakes have a way of talking you out of a plan you were not that attached to anyway.

So we finally stopped for a tasting. A name we have had on a few bottles , just a small tasting room with a gravel lot. The kind of place where the pour is generous because nobody is counting.

There is something funny about going straight from a movie theater into a vineyard. Two hours of a kid in a mask swinging between buildings, and then twenty minutes later you are standing at a wooden bar holding a glass of Riesling, listening to someone explain what the cold nights do to the acid. Both are escapism. One is just quieter about it.

We worked our way through the list. The dry Riesling was the one that stuck, sharp and a little green, tasting exactly like the weather outside. The reds were softer than I expected. We bought two bottles we did not need and stood outside for a while looking at the rows before getting back in the car.

That is the whole story. No big revelation. Just a good movie, a good glass of wine, and the reminder that the drive home is allowed to be part of the day too. Next time, we will build the stop into the plan on purpose. Hermm J. Wiemer Vinyard

Wine Tasting Flight: A Sensory Journey Through Four Distinct Varietals

A Surprise Seafood Delight with Wine

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We drove out to Living Roots for a wine lunch with exactly one goal: finally sign up for the wine club. That’s it. We’d been meaning to do it for a while and kept not doing it.

What we didn’t know is that @lido_fingerlakes has taken over the kitchen for a summer popup. Chef Chris Cullen is running a seafood pop-up Thursday through Sunday, and it caught us completely off guard.

The plating looks like French Laundry, but it’s local ingredients. The florals and seasonal picks feel like a New York City restaurant. And the flavor profiles land right on top of our favorite Japanese meals. That’s a strange combination to describe, and it’s still the most accurate one we’ve got.

We started with a couple of dishes. Then we ordered a couple more. By the end we’d worked through most of the menu and not one plate let us down.

Wine in hand, Keuka Lake out the window, food coming out one course at a time. We came for the wine club and left with a new favorite meal.

If you’re near Keuka this summer, go before the pop-up ends.

Fresh Oysters & Rosé Wine with Vineyard Views

Lido Restaurant Menu Board 8/1 - Fresh Seafood Dishes & Prices

@livingrootswine

Wine day with bae

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“Wine day with bae” felt like permission to slow down. Late June light, the kind that softens edges, found its way through the glass and warmed our hands. We didn’t plan much beyond getting here. That was the plan—let the Finger Lakes decide the rest.

The first pour was bright and easy, like a door opening. We took our time, letting the berry and stone settle on the tongue, listening for the quiet notes a busy week drowns out. Clink. Smile. A small joke that landed just right. The kind of conversation that doesn’t need to prove anything, just breathe alongside us.

Out beyond the patio, rows of vines kept their own careful rhythm, green upon green, patient and sure. A breeze lifted the edge of the afternoon, and with it, the sense that we were exactly where we were meant to be—two chairs, one table, the lake not far, the world briefly uncomplicated.

June carries its flags and its histories. We carried ours in the open, in the easy way our shoulders touched, in the quiet pride of being ordinary together. There was no grand lesson, only the soft relief of time well-spent.

We left a little lighter, lips stained, palms warm, promising to come back before the summer tilts away.

You should visit Lamoreaux Landing

Side quest to a neighboring lake winery – Keuka

A side quest became the day.

We drove through the rolling hills to a neighboring latke. Keuka’s elbows of shoreline bent around us, green rising into tidy rows, sky rinsed clean after a week of heat.

At the tasting bar, glass met glass, a quiet bell. The clean design and attention to detail caused us look deeply at the room and again the wine.

On the ride back, the sun laid itself flat across the water, gold finding every ripple. As we drove back thought the hills the water faded and the fields reached out towards home.

Side quests like this are why maps never feel finished.

I don’t know what we are doing but we are still in love

Sometimes the best moments happen without a plan. This photo captures one of those rare, simple joys—an effortless afternoon spent together at Sparkling Point Vineyard in North Fork, Long Island.

It was one of our final North Fork Line trips with friends, a bright and beautiful day surrounded by vineyards, laughter, and sparkling wine. Angel and I finally did what we always talked about: stepping into the vineyard and taking a photo together. No agenda, no overthinking—just a spontaneous, playful moment that felt perfectly us.

Dressed casually against a lush green vineyard backdrop, we balanced on one leg with outstretched poses, laughing through what turned into a sweet, unmistakably affectionate moment. Not a “boyfriend” moment—something deeper. A quiet reminder of who we are now: husbands, friends, and partners, still choosing joy in the small things.

Sparkling Point felt like the right place for it. Great friends, crisp sparkling wine, a little caviar, and that unmistakable North Fork calm that slows everything down. Days like this don’t need structure—they just need presence.

Our philosophy is simple: love deeply, laugh often, and sip slowly. We’ll keep chasing these unscripted moments wherever they show up—vineyards included.

NOFO Trip 2021, post-covid-ish, a wine weekend

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This past summer, we took our annual summer trip to the North Fork of Long Island—also known as NOFO. Long story short, for the last eight years we’ve been going to the North Fork for Angel’s best friend’s birthday. Every year, a group of us—all close friends, all couples—make the trip out en masse, looking forward to a summer week on the beach with good company, good wine, and good (sea)food. In August, we stayed for five days, rented a house in Greenport—a historic seaside town—and lived life. Slow and unhurried, appreciating every lull and lapping wave at our leisure.

The house we rented was an Air B&B in a community with its own private, residents-only beach. It was a typical stony beach on the northern shore, interspersed with a little bit of sand, not directly on the Sound. I certainly spent some time exploring its expanse, taking in the sight of the crystal-clear water, breathing in the salt.

Each time we’re here, we patronize a few tried-and-true wineries as well as search out new restaurants in Greenport. The first night of our trip was an outing to one of our favorite wineries, McCall Wines. They have a farm on the property and raise grass-fed beef. Because of COVID, this year they set up an outside trailer where you could sip wine and order burgers. The burgers were cooked perfectly and came with a side of crispy fries.

The second new restaurant we went to has had a few restaurants come and go on its premises. A few facelifts, if you will. Now it’s a restaurant called Anchor—a combination of a restaurant with a nice upstairs patio and a fish market upfront by the entrance, where you could buy shrimp, fresh-caught fish, and oysters. That night, we sat upstairs and had some oysters and wine. We’re crossing our fingers that Anchor is an iteration that’ll stay around for a couple of years. If so, we’ll be frequenting again next year.

For years now, I’ve been angling to visit one of the vineyards that specialize in sparkling wine. This year, we finally went and paired our sparkling wine and champagne with a side of caviar served with wafers, crème fraiche, and potato chips.

Toward the end of our trip, at one of our favorite wineries to go to, we got attacked by bees. Nobody was stung! But it did seem a whole colony had descended upon us, trying to get to our food. Good to know there are still bees buzzing around, pollinating where needed—although their collective presence did prove challenging when trying to eat! The charcuterie was great—the bees certainly thought so—and the wine never disappoints.

The rest of the trip unfolded at the same leisurely pace. One day we went to the bookstore in Greenpoint that Angel loves. The next was spent on a dock, in the company of margaritas, looking over the water. Overall, it was another relaxing trip for the books. Happy birthday, Steven!

A Bittersweet Dinner with the Biddles

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Change is always bittersweet. One part of you acknowledges and celebrates growth; the other longs for the past and its golden nostalgia, its memories. My best friend and work wife of over four years, whom I’ve worked with at Club Monaco, Ralph Lauren, and Eileen Fisher, decided to take a new job at a new company—meaning she’d be moving to Denver, Colorado.

We got together for a final farewell, a last supper of sorts. We had dinner at her parent’s house, where we ate hamburgers and drank wine. It’s funny—after all the years of knowing her, and despite her having met my family and my husband, this was the first time I’d been introduced to her parents. It took us all that time, up until right before she left, for me to meet them.

Now Harry (the dog) i’ve met many of times. As you can see from the photos he is always in the the right spot, at just the right time! He adds that class and cuteness any good time requires. He may have to stand in for Hannah and fill the void of her absence.

Of course, I will be going to Denver to visit her. But it was nice to be there to give her a proper send-off at dinner as part of the family. It’s also nice to know there will never be a “goodbye” for us—just an “until next time.”

Countdown to 5 o’clock with champagne

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When I think of the best on-screen secret agent, only one name comes to mind: Bond. James Bond. And when I think of the best champagne brands, Bollinger is at the top of that list. So, you better believe that I was thrilled to try out the Bollinger Special Cuvée, the “Official Champagne of 007.” To make it even more special, I sipped it from my Vintage Mix Lab cup. I loved the packaging and taste of this wine; I give the 007 Champagne a 10/10.

This purchase was meaningful for a few reasons: 1) My friend owns the store Upstream Wine, which I bought the drink from, and I’m always happy to support her business. 2) I love Bollinger so much, that I even had it served at my wedding. 3) I’m a big James Bond fan!

Bubbles from the Mountains

Two coupe glasses catch the light on the countertop, pale gold and busy with a quiet rush of bubbles. Beside them, a bottle stands half-turned, label clean and spare, as if it doesn’t want to interrupt the moment. Even the cap set off to the side feels deliberate, a small punctuation mark.

Bubbles from the Mountains is the kind of phrase that makes you pause. It suggests elevation and cold air, the long patience of hills, and the way a place can shape what ends up in your glass. The Catskills have that steady presence—familiar but never fully known—where ordinary evenings can feel a little more spacious.

I like sparkling wine for how it changes the room. Not louder, not busier—just brighter. It turns a kitchen counter into a table worth lingering at. It makes you notice the shape of the glass, the faint swirl of foam at the edges, the tiny constellations rising up and vanishing.

There’s something comforting in that: a simple ritual that doesn’t ask for a special occasion. Just pour, listen, and let the day settle. Outside, the mountains keep their own time. Inside, the bubbles do the same—brief, shimmering, and perfectly enough.

Weekend Vaca with Boo in NOFO

The weekend in NOFO felt like the kind of pause you don’t plan, you just fall into.

The sky was a wide, soft gray—nothing dramatic, just a ceiling of cloud that made the water look steadier and more honest. We stood close at the edge of it all, shoulder to shoulder, letting the wind do what it wanted with our shirts and our hair, letting the moment be unposed even as the camera caught it.

There’s a comfort in getting away with someone you love and realizing you don’t have to fill every second. A short drive turns into a different rhythm: slower meals, longer looks, quiet jokes that only make sense to the two of you. NOFO has that effect. It doesn’t demand a checklist. It just gives you room.

I keep thinking about how places can hold feelings the way old houses hold heat—subtle, stored up, and easy to miss until you step back inside your own life. This trip wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was the simple relief of salt air, an arm around a shoulder, and the ocean stretching out like a reset button.

If you want the little details and reactions, the Instagram comments tell the rest of the story.

Getting cheesy and wine-y

There are some afternoons that don’t ask for much. A table in the open air. Two glasses catching the light. A small board that looks simple at first and then keeps unfolding—soft cheese, thin folds of cured meat, crackers stacked like a quiet promise.

Getting cheesy and wine-y feels like a joke you repeat because it’s true. You sit down intending to “just have a little,” and then the minutes stretch out, loosening at the edges. The chilled glass sweats. The wood table holds old rings and new ones. Conversation takes its time.

I love how food like this makes its own weather. Nothing is rushed. You break a cracker, you cut into the cheese, you find the exact bite that tastes like summer—salt, cream, a little tang, a little fizz. It’s not a big production, but it feels like an occasion anyway.

And maybe that’s the point of a girls weekend: not doing something extraordinary, but letting the ordinary become brighter and bigger for a while. The kind of easy gathering you remember later, not because it was perfect, but because it was settled—good company, good wine, and a table that didn’t need anything else.

Ummm Rosé Season came hard

There’s a certain kind of light that shows up when the weather turns—soft, a little golden, like the day is finally willing to linger. And somehow it always ends the same way: standing in front of a glass-door fridge, staring at rows of rosé like it’s a small, pink promise.

Ummm Rosé Season came hard.

The bottles line up neatly behind the cold glass, labels facing forward, blush tones stacked in gradients from pale peach to deeper strawberry. It feels almost ceremonial, like the store is quietly acknowledging a shift: the heavy reds step back, and something brighter takes the front.

I like the way a chilled case hums—steady, practical—while the colors inside look like summer trying to break through. It’s simple, but it carries that familiar feeling of seasons changing: a little anticipation, a little relief. The same world, just edited by temperature and light.

Maybe that’s the whole point of rosé season. Not the drink itself, exactly, but the permission it gives. To sit outside longer. To eat slower. To let an ordinary evening feel like it has edges worth remembering.

So yes—came hard. And honestly, I’m not mad about it.

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