A few months ago in Portland I stumbled into The Wild Bunch; not a posse of outlaws but a lineup of natural winemakers. Glasses clinked under industrial beams; tasting notes scrawled on the table felt like street art for your palate.
Folks drifted from table to table with honest curiosity. One moment you’d be sniffing a rustic red; the next you’d sip something so crisp it might as well have come with a whistle.
By closing time most glasses were empty; most people were grinning.
Yeah, it really was that good.
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