"Would you like another glass or shall I bring you the [reality] check?"

It’s official: I’ve neglected my blog for far too long.

Recently I read someone else’s blog, which said that if your blog cannot generate revenue then it is destined to fizzle out. I fear that both may be true: my blog most certainly does NOT generate revenue and I have let it fizzle. I’d like to think I’ve left it at a gentle simmer, but the reality is: I haven’t posted in over a month.

And why? I can’t claim that it’s because I haven’t had noteworthy wine experiences- au contraire! In fact, this is perhaps one of the most pivotal moments in my oenological trajectory. I’ve entered a new phase where instead of writing narratives about my own wine experiences for the pure joy of it, I’m trying to monetize a passion and work in the industry. Before I share what has come of that goal, I’ll share the two(three?) words that best describe these last several weeks: humility and reality-check.

So, picture this: I come back from a six month stint in Europe where I flitted from country to country meeting vintners, tasting wine, writing about it and feeling like an all-around bad-ass 23 year old. My peers deferred to me for wine choices and I became great at reciting the same self-righteous explanation of why and how I “know” about wine.

I return to Portland, still brimming with false confidence, and begin looking for wine jobs. I assume that having been to old-world wineries, researching natural viticulture and –uh- enjoying the experience would be enough to get me a job as a wine rep for a well-respected distributor who showcases the kinds of wines that I like to endorse.

Well, ‘twasn’t so simple. In fact, I never once encountered a job posting for a job like that. Of course, these positions probably don’t get filled by putting up Craigslist ads; they are obtained by people in the industry or by people with connections in the industry. And that’s when it hit me: I am NOT in the industry. And even though I write (or wrote…sniff) a wine blog, I have NO experience.

So, there it was: the reality check. It wasn’t so dramatic or disheartening as it sounds, actually it was like a call to arms: I have to go out there and get some experience!!! Huzzah!

So, I began looking for jobs that perhaps were less “glamorous” than the wine rep gig, but ones where I could l gain the knowledge and the network that I sorely lacked.

One fateful day a few weeks ago I found a job posting for a “Wine Specialist” at a hip-looking wine bar in the NE. I had what the ad was looking for: enthusiasm, tenacity, people-skills, etc. I printed a fresh copy of my résumé, donned my most hip attire and sauntered in like I was the only girl for the job.

The owner was in the middle of a tasting with a wine rep (go figure) but ushered me over the counter where he scanned my résumé and asked, “So, where’s your wine experience?” I, of course, went into a too-long palaver about what I’d done in France, Spain, blah blah blah, to which he replied with sincerity “Man, sounds cool, let’s trade lives!”

Everything seemed to be going so well.

And then he said, “Name for me two varietals in the Rhône.”

Think, McKenzie, you’ve been to the Rhône, what the hell were you drinking there? Can’t remember? Well, shoot, uh- think… THINK!

“Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir.” To which he replied, “Uh, no. Neither. Name me one from Bordeaux.”

Again. I drew a horrible blank. Well, actually, that’s not true. “Drawing a blank” insinuates that I’m referring to some knowledge that I possess, but that I just simply can’t access it at that given moment. The truth is, I don’t think I ever knew what grapes were used in Bordeaux wines…or Rhône Valley wines. Perhaps it’s because the French focus less on varietals and more on individual terroirs. Perhaps it’s because so much of my research had to do with winemaking processes. Perhaps it’s because I’d spent more time learning about Spanish wine, perhaps perhaps perhaps…

Needless to say, I was mortified. I HATE to look incompetent, and yet, I realized in that moment, that I was clearly lacking crucial expertise. I mistook what I had: little knowledge and a lot of enthusiasm for professional competency.

The owner asked me a few more cursory questions, which I was capable of answering.

“Yes, I have a driver’s license.”

And then he told me he’d be accepting résumés for the remainder of the week and that I shouldn’t expect to be in contact before then. Honestly, I didn’t expect to be in contact at all. Feeling like I had little to lose, I said, “Shame you hadn’t tested me on Spanish varietals, I would’ve nailed it.”

As I said it, a voice inside me bellowed, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! You idiot, you have a 50% shot at best of getting this right.”

So, he said, without skipping a beat, “Name me a varietal from the northwest coast of Spain.” There it was, one I knew without a doubt. I shook his hand and said “Albariño” and then left immediately, hoping to leave a small, positive wake in the sea called Disaster Interview.

It’s possible that I ran several red lights on the drive home. I was so shaken and embarrassed. I had planned to drop off my résumé at the headquarters of a few other distributors, but there was NO WAY I was going to have another interaction like the last. In fact, I wasn’t showing my face at any wine institution until I had the answers to those questions.

So, what did I do? What any girl fresh out of college would do: I made hundreds of flash cards. I would not rest until I had memorized every wine region in France, Spain and Italy and what varietals were produced in each. Then, I tackled the varietals themselves: what were their respective characteristics, what were they blended with, what could they be paired with, and so on. It was a lofty project indeed. Memorizing regions was simple enough, but to understand the characteristics of each varietal was hard to do- memorization wasn’t enough. I had to taste them, to begin to develop a personal relationship with each of them. I wanted more than ever to work in a wine bar- where else could I taste, sample, reflect and refine my wine lexicon?

And to my greatest surprise: I received a call from the shop owner. Ce n’est pas vrai, tu dis! I was astonished. He wanted to hire me. Apparently my cheeky attempt to win points with Albariño paid off. He said he liked how confident and professional I seemed (ironically, I felt just the opposite). He said that he could teach me about wines, but it’s harder to teach people how to interact with customers. Ahhh, my schmoozing was my saving grace.

So, here I am, a few weeks later- actually working as a “Wine Specialist” believe it or not. And, I must say, I love the job. I just LOVE it. I am learning so much. Not just about the wines, but how to talk about the wines and how to talk about wine with people who know so much more than me. It’s been humbling and challenging and all-in-all FANTASTIC. The only somewhat sad caveat is that it’s not my full-time job (I begin working full-time at Airbnb next month). But, perhaps this way a passion can remain a passion. I can absorb all the information I can, which is payment enough, and I don’t have to worry about making sure that wine can pay my bills. In fact, in some ways, I want this job to be somewhat of a closed loop. I’ll use my tip money to buy more wine to try at home, hence, learning more, becoming better at what I do- which means earning more tips, buying more wine…and the beautiful cycle continues (*save for my liver.)

So, as I conclude this blog post, I am realizing just how satisfying it is to write it. I so enjoy reflecting on my own experiences and trying to relay them in a way that is interesting to you, the reader. I will try to not be so absent again. In fact, I will try to use the blog as a way to record the knowledge I’m gaining and as a storage space so I can refer to it later. If any of you are total and utter novices like I discovered I am, then perhaps you can follow the same learning path as I. Happy travels.

*Here are some picture of the shop where I work. They are from the website.