Welcome to Wine Country

Sixty-eight and sunny, not a single cloud in the sky. Not even the remnants of a cloud. There are not too many days where the sky is so crystal clear it seems like someone took a larger than life roller, dripping blue, and painted the sky like a canvas, dipping up and down to avoid rolling over the lush green tree tops. It's kind of amazing, if you really think about it. Just pure blue, the gradient of color going from pale to deep like an artist's palette, trying to find the perfect combination. It's even more breathtaking when the entire week was washed out by raging rainstorms and the chilly reminder that it's fall. What better way to celebrate such a fabulous day than with some fermented grapes.

The North Fork of Long Island has a hidden treasure, only available for enjoyment to those of legal age. Amid all the hoopla that hangs around the East End, the North Shore shines as the lure of the Hamptons dwindles with the changing season. On Saturday morning, my boyfriend trekked his way across two thirds of the Tri-state area to spend some time with yours truly. Both being immature and ill-informed wine drinkers, we usually scoop up a bottle of $5 Sutter Home Cabernet at the local liquor store, a poor habit of a broke college student looking for a buzz, but now that we are older and wiser (college educated and all) we thought it would be fun to treat ourselves (and our tastebuds) to the glitz and glory of wine country. 

According to LIVineyardTours.com, the first vineyard to grace the north shore of Long Island was in 1973 when Louisa and Alex Hargrave pioneered an industry that has boomed and blossomed over the past three decades. This savvy couple had the prudence to see the potential in the north fork after research found the soil and climate to be exceptionally similar to Bordeaux's, a city in the southwest of France that produces some of the finest and most expensive wines in the world. Today, over 50 vineyards have sprung up on the north and south shores, but the majority of them wrap around the northern part of the island's jagged tail. 

Following my GPS' robotic voice to Rt. 25 in Aquebogue, we passed signs for roasted corn, pumpkin picking and hayrides to Paumanok Vineyards. As wine tasting virgins, we walked inside and waited behind a crowd of sweaters, swarming the counter like flies on a piece of left over fruit. Finally, a kind looking curly-headed woman named Ana tossed us a laminated paper listing the various flights we could chose from. 

As preferable red drinkers, we chose the second flight that consisted of a 2007 Barrel Fermented Chardonnay, the 2006 Merlot (which we liked so much that we later purchased a bottle), the 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon, and the 2007 Cabernet Franc. As the designated driver, I only took one sip from my petite glass then poured the rest of mine into Max's (no wonder he fell asleep at 9:00 that night). Then Ana pulled out the big guns. 

The 2000 Assemblage. Bless you Ana. This was the smoothest wine I had ever tasted in my life. As I sipped mine I saw Max's eyes become twice the size of his wine glass and I knew he shared the same satisfaction I was getting from this liquid paradise.

He bought us two glasses and we went to claim a seat outside to enjoy the day, the wine, and each other's company. One lesson we learned from our fellow wine tasters: bring food. People pulled out coolers of vibrant red and green grapes, creamy cheese and crusty crackers. Everyone looked so content. To our right were four girls munching on Cape Cod potato chips with they're feet up, giggling and taking pictures. To our left was an elderly couple, sharing a bottle, with years of love and experience etched into their faces and their intertwined hands. 

We sat beneath the sunshine for two hours and just talked, a simple act that many people often take for granted. It seems like everyone is always trying to fill up life with noise and things. Appointments, text messaging, to-do lists, television, technology; there is always some sort of distraction to disrupt the sanctitude of human interaction. I don't know if it was the soothing mixture of wine and sun that helped me conjure up this worldly epiphany about the beauty in simplicity, but don't worry my philosophical revelation was cancelled out by take out and Russell Crowe decapitating Romans, while Max slept on the couch with a hang over. 

our one cheesy couple picture