Back to the Real World
Or, A Spittoon of My Own
Originally Published on July 20, 2010
Wine, chocolate, pasta and George Clooney are all on my list of things that make life worth living. When it came time to look for a job in Niagara, my first thought was to be a personal assistant and masseuse to George, but it turns out that he doesn’t live here, so I set my sights on a job in wine. On a road trip through Niagara’s Wine Country in May, my friend Julie and I stopped at a few wineries on our way to pick up Bridget and head to The Good Earth to check out their cooking school. My plan was to drop off some resumes if we found a cool winery that appealed to me as a possible summer job if I came back to Canada.
After visiting several wineries, we found ourselves at Palatine Hills Estate Winery, a seemingly small winery that was smack dab in the middle of row upon row of grapevines. You would be surprised at how many wineries are created out of a great building and an interesting concept, but purchase their grapes outside of their own fields or province or even outside of Canada. Palatine felt more welcoming to me than any other place I’d visited and I asked Michel, the man who was offering tastings, if I could speak to a manager. I got John Neufeld, the owner, a man who considers himself first and foremost a grower. After spending a few minutes with him, I knew that this was the kind of unpretentious place I’d love to work, so I left my resume and a brochure for OFF THE VINE’s Ladies Night and Wine Pairing Dinners. A month later, I got an email requesting an interview and I started working three days later. Doing what? Funny you should ask… I’m not completely sure. There was some talk of invoicing (ick) and event-related ideas and sales and sales training, but the bottom line is that I was to start in the retail store on Friday at 9:30am
I packed up my lunch and headed over the beautiful Welland Canal at Lock 1 on Lakeshore Drive to get to work early. Setting course for Niagara-on-the-Lake, I kept an eye out for the winery and of course I overshot it. Fortunately, in my Canadian paranoia, I had given myself an hour to make the 20-minute drive. Arriving at the gray warehouse, I popped a couple of Tic Tacs to cover my coffee breath and met Johnny (aka John Neufeld Jr.) who showed me the ropes. We shook hands and he told me that he would show me the most important things to know so I could get started.
The tasting area is inside a large hangar-like space, only a portion of the big barn that houses the wine-making vats and barrels and presses, etc. Opening the fridge and removing several bottles of wine, Johnny told me about the grapes and the vintages, then pulled the corks and poured two small glasses. Handing me one, he seemed surprised by my slack-jawed look. Gracefully recovering from the shock of a 9:20am wine tasting, I chewed the remaining slivers of Tic Tac and told him that my palate might not be at its best. He told me not to worry — this was just a first tasting so I would have an idea of some of the wines on the list.
As I swirled and sniffed (I didn’t actually swirl myself — I refer to swirling the wine in the glass), he placed a silver spittoon on the counter between us and reassured me that I did not have to swallow. Once again, I gave him the glazed gobsmacked look. Spit out wine! What was he thinking? And good wine, to boot! He mistook my look for squeamishness and very nicely set another spittoon before me and told me I could have my very own. How could I not love these people? By opening time at 10am, I had tried the Fumé Blanc, the 2007 unoaked Chardonnay, the 2008 Chard (lovely despite the breathmints), the Riesling Traminer (wonderful!), the Gerwurtztraminer, and the Rosé. I asked for a few minutes without wine so I could learn how to use the cash register. I’ll keep you posted.
Besos,
Danielle