During my time as a "Vinista,"(I could not find this word in the dictionary) I could easily count the number of times people of color would be surprised to see another person of color behind the tasting bar. This amazement was further enhanced by the fact that of the three wineries I worked for, two were literally in the middle of nowhere. Now, I have a chance to do some observations for myself.
My journey begins at a winery off the beaten path in Placer county. This time, I would be the one who was surprised to see another person of color behind the tasting bar. (She was also the manager) My cousin and myself entered the tasting room and were greeted warmly by the staff. Because I have greeted thousands of customers, I know a genuine "I am so glad you visited" welcome. We were offered a tasting menu, asked where we were from and guided through the wine offerings with gentle and informative persuasions. When I mentioned that I was not a fan of white wine, I was immediately directed to a gentleman who just happened to be pouring a vertical lineage of my favorite grape, Petite Syrah! Go figure, what is the chance of this happening on the first visit? I was in Elysium! He too was gentle, accommodating without pretension and as unbiased as a Petite Syrah lover himself could be. We bonded instantly. Beginning with the 1995 vintage, he generously poured our tastes as if we were his best friends. I wanted to take him home and feed him. He was knowledgeable, humorous and genuinely interested in how we liked the wine. When asked if we could re-sample the 1998 vintage, (my favorite) he gladly obliged understanding fully that we were not quite sure of we liked it or not. (we did, but hey, nothing wrong with being sure) However, it was getting late and the dessert wine was still to be had. I usually do not drink anything sweet, but our Vinisto, (Couldn't find this word either) suggested that we give it a try.
Upon returning to the main tasting bar, I noticed that someone new was directing the goings on. She was completely in charge and handled herself with style, grace and perfection. It was clearly obvious that she commanded and received the respect of her subordinates. She greeted us and began to describe the dessert wine as if she had made it herself. I was eager to try it and to my surprise, it was quite tasty.
Because there are so few people of color who work in tasting rooms, I had to know her story and how she came about being the manager of a large winery in the middle of nowhere. She told me that she had several years of corporate experience in the hospitality market, was from the midwest and loved her job. As an African American to work in a community with a 0.8% African American population,(www.chacha.com/question/what-is-the-population-of-african-americans-in-placer-county) I could empathize with any conflicts she may have endured. However, because she handled herself so professionally, I doubt that she would be fazed by any uneasy situation.
Recently, I met another African American who worked for a winery as a part time event pourer. Observing how people responded to his presence at an event, I could see that like me, he was at ease with his audience. It would have been nice to get some feedback from him, but I was busy entertaining the crowd as well.
Part of the experience of traveling and discovering how a person of color is received in a tasting room involves the ability to have professionalism and at times, the hardened exterior of someone who does not sweat under pressure. So far, I have only been to one particular tasting room that clearly had a racist attitude. There loss. I have also recently learned that this particular tasting room has been advertising for several positions within their company. Imagine that?
Perhaps I will apply...
Until next time, Salute'!
Karen
Thank you for using the term "vinista"! (And, by the way, the "ista" part is Greek derived, so it can apply to both males and females, which sounds odd to those familiar with romance languages. In Spanish, a male artist is still "el artista".) Anyway, I was recently offered a raise and a promotion at a small winery in Virginia. I can only work part-time, so being the manager would not have worked for me, but the owner (who has resigned herself to being manager), wanted to acknowledge me as a senior employee who could provide some leadership on the ground. She longed for a snappier title than "senior tasting room associate" and invited me to come up with one. After rejecting "oenophile" and "oenophilist" as too snooty, we decided a made-up word would be OK. Pour Favor's "oenista" was a step in the right direction, but I worried that people wouldn't know how to pronounce the Greek-derived prefix, and it's meaning might be obscure, too. After settling that the Latin-derived "vin" was easier to say and understand, "vinista" came to mind. I searched for validation and was happy to find your blog and a few other posts (http://www.seattleweekly.com/2005-03-02/food/video-vintage/, http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g52926-d2639562-r141053662-Galer_Estate_Vineyard_and_Winery-Kennett_Square_Pennsylvania.html). There seems to be a need for a hip-sounding term to describe a person who pours wine and, though far from being a certified sommelier, is still expected to talk semi-intelligently about it. I've submitted it to urban dictionary; we'll see if it catches on.
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