Hello Friends!
I’ve written about my upbringing in Napa and a little bit about my relationship to wine. But, here’s a bit more.
As you may have noticed, I have been popping up in a few wineries and wine related spaces. We’ve been at Purity, The Study Wine Bar, Hammerling, Donkey & Goat. At Friends and Family for Sam Rogers/CouCou wine release (Sam Rogers is a gem of a human, and you should keep up with their wine making journey). And, soon Bar Part Time (5/16) and a few wine fairs.
I didn’t necessarily choose or ask to be in these spaces, but I’ve been invited in and welcomed with open arms. Initially, I was very hesitant to put myself in these spaces or participate in wine things in general. My relationship to wine is informed by having been raised by someone who worked and continues to work for that industry. The romance of wine has always been overshadowed by the harsh reality of seeing underpaid labor be disregarded and invisibilized.
My father started his career as a day laborer working among vines, pruning, laying irrigation lines. He would come home from a 10 hour day of brutal work, the smell of sulphur and sweat emanating from every pore. After kicking off his dirt covered boots, he’d usually reach for a cold Coke or, rarely, on a Friday, an ice cold Michelob Ultra. My brother and I would tease him for the egg-like smell, clueless of the long, hard day he had just come back from.
I would wonder why all the other kids at Catholic School had nicer cars, or swimming pools, or last names like Mondavi/Trinchero/Barrett/Chiarello. When you’re young and naive you don’t compare yourself to others because you don’t feel like you’re lacking anything. Your needs are met and you feel safe. But, as you grow older, you can’t help but compare yourself to those around; you begin to see the differences between you and the classmates with a pizza oven in their backyard.
There’s a secret history between wine and myself. Or rather, a not-so-secret one-sided grudge. Why do the winery owners or the winemakers get all the credit/notoriety/money while the humans propping them up with their labor do not get credit for that perfectly scored Cabernet Sauvignon? Robert Parker mentions the winemaker, the land, the terrior, but never makes a mention about the nameless, faceless laborors hand harvesting the fruit from the vines. How often does Esther Mobley or any other wine writer highlight a vineyard worker who spent their life learning about agriculture, watering practices, biodynamic farming?
The wine industry tries so desperately to paint itself as a luxurious indulgence, a vibe of opulence and enjoyment, a product of land and environment, with minimal human intervention. But, it never credits the real terroir— the human labor that made it possible. The soil was only able to provide nutrients to the vine because it was carefully tended by humans who spent endless hours planting cover crops, tilling and nourishing the soil. The topography of the estate did not just exist, it was shaped by blistered hands and sunburned necks. Terroir needs to acknowledge labor. We need to acknowledge that wine is created from exploitation and we participate in the economy of exploitation.
I’m not asking you to feel guilty about drinking wine, I don’t feel that way, I enjoy my wine. But rather, maybe with that nose of cantaloupe and rosemary, acknowledge that there’s a hint of exploitation and negligence.
I guess this is a reminder for myself to not stray too far from one of our missions/goals. In 2021, I wrote that one of the reasons I made masa and offered it for sale, was so that people “could experience the labor of making a tortilla.” I know we sell tortillas, and other prepared things, but I will always offer masa for those curious enough to take it home and make something with it. It’s not as easy at looks, and it takes a bit of practice. I’ve done the hard part, I’ve nixtamalized the maíz, ground it into a dough, kneaded it, and packaged it. Now you get to participate in a little bit of labor at home. Your labor makes your food yours.
Now, I don’t have a neat way of wrapping these thoughts up. Nor, do I have a good transition, LOL, but here are some dates and information on where to get your masa things.
This may be too much to ask, but keep supporting us weekly. As we grow our team and continue to build this project, we really need consistent support. Even if its a jar of salsa macha for a friend visiting town, telling your friend to try some fresh masa, or just making tortillas regularly. We appreciate you and we want to keep getting better, but we need consistent support. Thank you!!
THURSDAY 5/11 - Mission Mercado, 84 Bartlett St., SF 3:00-7:00pm
All the things you love! Tortillas, masa, salsas, tetelas, tlacoyos. Come Say hi!
THURSDAY 5/11 - Pre-Order Pickup, 2701 8th St., Berkeley 5:30-7:00pm
All the things you love! Tortillas, masa, salsas, tetelas, tlacoyos. Come Say hi!
SATURDAY 5/13 - Ferry Building Farmer’s Market, San Francisco 8:00am-2:00pm
All the things you love! Tortillas, masa, salsas, tetelas, tlacoyos. Come Say hi!
TUESDAY 5/16 - Pop-Up at BAR PART TIME, 496 14th St, San Francisco. 6:00-9:00pm
Come By! All tostadas all night. Come early for a mellow dinner, come late for a Tuesday dance party. Tell your friends.
THURSDAY 5/18 - Mission Mercado, 84 Bartlett St., SF 3:00-7:00pm
All the things you love! Tortillas, masa, salsas, tetelas, tlacoyos. Come Say hi!
SATURDAY 5/20 - Ferry Building Farmer’s Market, San Francisco 8:00am-2:00pm
All the things you love! Tortillas, masa, salsas, tetelas, tlacoyos. Come Say hi!
SATURDAY 5/20 - Pop-Up at Hammerling Wines / Donkey & Goat Winery, 1350 Fifth St, Berkeley. 3:00-8:00pm
Come By! Stay tuned for more details.
Thank you for supporting Bolita! We hope to see you soon and can’t wait to feed you!
As a Latina who grew up in Santa Barbara, CA (central coast wine country), I resonated with this newsletter. A lot. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for writing and sharing this my friend!