about the fake somm (a.k.a. Emma)
I graduated from keeping $8 bottles of questionable and fizzy pink wine in my fridge in 2016. The catalyst? My first in-the-flesh visit to a vineyard in Virginia’s “wine country.” There, I was met with wine descriptions that ranged from “burnt tennis balls” to “freshly picked winter stone fruit.” And even though I had no clue what he was talking about (doesn’t all wine taste the same?) — I was hooked.
Today, you’ll find a lot of Virginia whites, uncertified French reds that taste very different (I SWEAR), and anything that’s twenty bucks with a cool label in my fridge (and stored on its side on the bottom shelf of my bar.) I love introducing my friends to wines I’m obsessed with, and teaching others how to taste and order wine with confidence.