Happy Birthday to our sweet, sweet boy Noah.

Over the past five years, Noah has turned us from footloose kids into dedicated parents. His birth made us want more out of life – for ourselves and for him.

Today, he gets to eat the four-layer birthday cake and open all the presents. But we know the real gift is seeing that moppy head walk through our bedroom door each morning.

We love you, Noah!

I’m not going to lie. I think it would be hysterical to send my kids out for Halloween in the following outfits:

After all, Jason truly is the hotdog to Noah’s hamburger. It’s deeply symbolic of many aspects of their brotherly relationship.

But, seriously? I don’t want to wake up on August 17th and see an OLD NAVY HALLOWEEN DEAL!! email in my in-box. It’s seasonally depressing.

Here’s what else is seasonally depressing:

- The July issue of Vogue featuring tweed, leather and wool
– Going shopping for a pair of shorts in August and finding only wool capris
– Halloween candy next to the Back to School aisle at Target
– And may I not get fired from my job for saying it…pumpkin beer.

What is the rush? These are the last, long, lazy days of August. We are supposed to be squeezing in our last few long weekends, exhausting ourselves at all-night BBQs, and packing a sweatshirt for the beach just in case we stay a little too long. This is the only pumpkin I want to be looking at right now:

We need to be gorging ourselves on tomatoes and corn, fragrant whites and perfectly chilled rosés.

The most urgent thing on our to do list should be figuring out which night we can walk with the kids to go get ice cream, not trying to beat the crowds to the Halloween aisle.

Of course, I realize that my adamant refusal to push the envelope on seasonality could spell doom for our retail business. As a retailer we are supposed to actively and aggressively move you from one season to the next so that we can extend your retail dollars. The thought is that you may be sick of buying rosé right now, so we should move you into the pumpkin beer knowing that it’s new and exciting…and also knowing that you will buy pumpkin beer throughout the fall too.

But I just can’t do it. We’ll order the pumpkin beer and we’ll put some on the shelves, but I’m not going to talk about it. Not yet.

So please, join me in enjoying the last weeks of summer’s bounty. Let’s all experience a perfect summer peach, or buy a quart of blueberries and watch them disappear. I want to appreciate the hydrangeas while they are still in bloom. Have you noticed how the light of a late August day creates a beauty unlike anything we’ve seen in these parts in eleven and a half months? Fall will get here when it gets here. And so will our pumpkin beer tastings, tweets and blogs.

Tell me, do you suffer from Seasonal Retail Depression? Or are you ready for us to start talking about Pumpkin beer and other seasonal fall items?

Wine is about relationships. Not just the relationships you strengthen when you take the time to share wine with family and friends, but also the relationships you create when you are making and selling wine.

Right now, someone on the other side of the country wants to form a relationship with you, the customers of The Urban Grape.

Charles Smith knows that our customers love his wine. I don’t mean that he saw some sort of pie chart or sales graph that told him so. That’s not Charles’ way. I mean that he really knows it. He’s been to our store, he’s met some of our clients, he’s been out with TJ who has told him stories of how much our customers appreciate what he is creating in Washington. And he’s ready to form a relationship with you.

Charles has produced his Royal City Rosé one time in the last decade. It was made from the same grapes that made his Royal City Syrah…you know, the one that got a 99 Parker rating. He loves this wine. Only 160 cases were produced and 15 came into the state. We…YOU…got 12 of them.

Charles’ personal tasting note says that you should think of Domaine Ott while drinking his “ultra pure, ultra pale…savory, complex, terroir driven” wine. Except that the Royal City rosé is so much better than Domaine Ott. Complex is an understatement. It is detailed and layered and the type of rosé wine that will satisfy any red wine drinker. And while it tasted awfully good on Friday night after a long, hot day, this wine will last you into the fall and straight through to Thanksgiving. TJ also believes it will age very well, unlike most rosés.

It’s $36 and when it’s gone, it’s gone. We have no idea when Charles will choose to produce it again.

Thanks Charles. We like you too.

When a company called @whiskeydisks started following us on Twitter I didn’t give it much thought. Slowly over the course of the past month I have been made to laugh out loud several times by their irreverent, if slightly inappropriately angry, messages. An example: “Whiskey is like violence – if it doesn’t solve your problem, you’re not using enough of it.” Okay, not really my normal outlook on life, but damn if that didn’t make me laugh pretty hard.

I started to wonder, what in the world is a Whiskey Disk? Besides being (again) irreverently named, this thing is freaking brilliant. The company is comprised of a father and son stonemason team in New Hampshire that was looking for a way to cool their beloved single malt Scotch without diluting it with an ice cube. So, they turned to soapstone. Now, their own words:

“As stone workers we were well aware of soapstone’s unique ability to hold temperature. Utilizing our skill as craftsmen, we set to work milling and hand tooling the stone to specific proportions. After a lot of trial and error we achieved the perfect combination of shape and thermal mass. Our handcrafted whiskey stones were a great success. We called them Whiskey Disks.™ After sitting in the freezer for a couple of hours, they easily chilled a dram to approximately 50°F. Not only did they perform beautifully, but they were beautiful objects as well. Identical in shape and size, yet no two were alike in color or grain. Each of our unique whiskey stones seemed to elegantly transform as they were submersed in the wet, wonderful goodness of a chosen pour. Colors that were previously muted became radiant; subtle grain became vividly apparent. We still make them to this day. We make them the way we always have, by hand and with care.”

And they really are gorgeous. And now I am obsessed. TJ would LOVE these, and I can absolutely see him dropping one of these into his rocks glass as he relaxes at the end of a long day with a little Scotch, or Bourbon, or Whiskey, or Mezcal, or any of the other liquors that are taking over our TV room as we speak.

Local boys making a unique item that makes our drinking a little more pleasurable. What’s not to love?

Visit them here: Whiskey Disks

Follow them on Twitter here: @whiskeydisks

Well. How does one follow up a blog post that generated over 2,000 hits in 30 hours? I’m not sure I have the answer to that. In fact, it’s created a little bit of writer’s block on my part, so I’m going to turn to pictures to see me through this one.

Several years ago, TJ and I had the privilege of dining at Arnolfo Restaurant in Colle Val D’Elsa just outside of Siena. It’s a Michelin rated restaurant that specializes in little bites of heaven, beautifully arranged on a plate and served with the absolute perfect wine.

This is just an example of what every course looks like. I’m not usually a fan of “nudgy” food, but this was so special, and each bite so delicious, that it won me over. Despite being precious, every bite sang of Tuscany.

Gathered with loved ones, we had a four hour lunch; after, we wandered the streets with the Nonnas who were out gathering provisions from the local butcher, cheese store, enoteca, etc. It’s an experience we will never forget.

While we were there, we had a Chianti Classico called Capannelle, which instantly became one of TJ’s favorites. A few months ago while eating at Sorrelina in the South End we saw that same wine on their list at a steal of a price, and, gathered again with friends, briefly relived our moment of bliss at Arnolfo.

Little did we know at the time that the Capannelle wine that we were so enjoying was stored in this…

“This” has to be one of the most incredible wine cellars ever created. Just the site of it sets TJ’s heart on fire.

It’s straight out of Mission Impossible and Oceans 13. It holds 8000 bottles in a temperature and humidity controlled environment (both of which are recorded with certified instruments that look like something NASA would use). And it’s filled to the rim with Capannelle wine. In fact, this is THE storage facility for Capannelle. It’s called The Capannelle Caveau.

We’ve recently learned that Capanelle also has a wine resort where people can stay and experience Tuscany and the company’s wines. Looks like we know where our next overseas adventure will be taking us.

If you are in Tuscany this fall, please take an afternoon to enjoy these two incredible experiences. Just promise you’ll take pictures of the wine cellar for TJ!

Dear @JenniferPerillo,

I don’t know you, but I do know that you are living my worst possible nightmare. I heard through a retweet, who heard through a retweet, who heard through a retweet, that your husband died suddenly from a massive heart attack. And now, although I’d never before heard your name and never had the chance to know your husband, I am consumed with grief. And fear.

Your Twitter stream has left me shaken. There you were, just days before your family vacation, canning marinara sauce and tweeting. And then, suddenly, “He’s gone. And my heart is shattered into a million pieces.” It’s grief in real time. It’s too much for even a stranger to handle, and all I can think of is how…how could you even find the strength to write those painful words?

Today you posted a video called “The Last Dance.” I clicked and saw a still of your husband holding one of your children. I couldn’t watch. I had to turn away, again consumed with grief on your behalf. And again, fear.

Like you, my husband has given me the three greatest gifts in the world. My two children and the very key to my self. And now, you are living the nightmare that every wife and mother dreads. I always wonder, if it happened to me, would I have seen it coming? Would I have said goodbye? Said I love you? Given one last kiss? Would I even have the strength to get out of bed and start another day? I don’t know. I just don’t know.

But I can see from your Twitter stream that you are a woman of strength and of humor. I see that you have a love of life, family and home. As I sit here crying for you, a woman I have never met, I have to believe that these things will see you through this tragic time.

So, @JenniferPerillo, although I don’t know you, and even though you are technically nothing more than an avatar to me, I send you every good wish I have in my soul. And tonight, in honor of the memory of your husband, I will remember to tell mine that I love him, and I will hold him tighter than ever.

I’ve been wanting to write about “Mom O’Clock” for a while, but have been unsure if I would open myself up to mommy backlash. Backlash in general stresses me out, but if you’ve ever been on the receiving end of mommy backlash, you know how devastating it can be. Nothing hurts like a thinly-veiled barb from a fellow mother. That said, the role of alcohol in a mother’s life and the effect it can have on her children has been fascinating me lately, especially as my children grow older.

Although I have always considered myself an excellent mother, my motherhood experience (like those of almost every other mother I know) has been fraught with insecurities. This summer Noah developed a repetitive nervous tic that had him sounding like an asthmatic squeaky toy, and I wondered if my goal to simply raise the least screwed up kid on the block was crashing down around me. Add to that Jason’s new phase of yelling “BAD BABY” and “I’m going to poke you in da EYEBALL!” in the face of younger children and one can see how I routinely turn to the comfort of a wine bottle. After one particularly stressful day, Noah encouraged me to pour myself a glass of wine and relax. He’s not yet five.

Then a couple of weeks ago, Jason, already precocious at age two and a half, reached for my empty wine glass and when I tried to take it from him yelled, “Hey! That’s MY wine!” And last night at dinner he grabbed our bottle of Trimbach Pinot Gris and said, “My have wine?” Noah has been known to focus imaginary play around the sale of Pinot Noir for “Twenty quarters.” Are they budding wine lovers and entrepreneurs, or heading for drunk nights puking their guts out at the age of 15? I’m just not sure.

Despite all of this (and despite this picture…TJ was just kidding, our newborn did not drink that wine), I do believe that TJ and I are modeling a healthy relationship with alcohol to our children. Primarily, wine is something that comes out at the end of the day. We sip wine while we make and eat dinner and we do not drink excessively in front of our kids. We have friends over and share wine with them while the kids are around, playing at our feet or eating dinner at the counter. Having a glass of wine at the end of the day, or “Mom O’Clock” as I like to call it to myself, is a natural part of their lives. Wine is seemingly part of their genetic code – our lives are rooted in learning about wine, experiencing wine, and selling wine. And it will be for the better part of their lives.

That said, I am trying to stay away from saying things like, “I’m going to die if I don’t have a glass of wine in the next five seconds!” or “Get me a wine IV into this vein right here!” or “Good God, is it time for the wine yet, my children are driving me NUTS!!” Yes, these are all things I have said before and, yes, I’ve said them in front of my children. But sometimes, at the end of a stressful day, a glass of wine can help bridge the gap from an iPhone that never stops buzzing to an impromptu dance party with my kids, and I do believe I’m okay with that. And I do believe they will be okay with that too.

My parents’ house on Martha’s Vineyard is actually on the island of Chappaquiddick, which is only accessible by a three car barge that runs from 7AM to 12AM. Chappy is isolated and gorgeous with fantastic beaches. The only issue is that the ferry line backs up several times per day and it can be a complete grind to get from Chappy over to the “mainland.”

When stuck in this mind-numbing line, it’s often good to have a few things to do. DVDs for the kids are a must, a good book or trashy magazine also helps with the boredom. For many that are coming back from the beach, the chances are good that there is a cooler of booze to help pass the time.

We rarely go over with our car at the end of the day because the ferry line can back up for over an hour. But tonight we had heard rumors of a fun pizza dance party for the kids, so my brother, sister-in-law and I piled the kids into the car and took up our place in line. Before too long, a woman moseyed up to my window and sheepishly asked if I happened to have a corkscrew on me. Man, had she come up to the right car.

“Of course!” I said. “I always have one in the car!”

“Really?”

“Yes, my husband and I own a wine shop, so….”

“Oh, where?”

“Chestnut Hill.”

“Really? I live in Newton!”

Needless to say, I handed over a UG card with the corkscrew. She came back two other times to say thanks and chat, and I’ve had a smile on my face ever since.

Here’s to you, woman in white whose name I never caught. See you at the store, and hope you enjoyed your rosé!

I like to think one of the reasons TJ loves me so much is that I’ve never been one to diet during a restaurant meal. If I am eating at your establishment, you can be assured that I will eat with abandon. TJ is one of those guys that is attracted to women who throw down and belly up. Thank God, although I may have pushed it to the limit with our meal at State Road Restaurant on Martha’s Vineyard this past Saturday night.

Finding a really great dining experience on the Vineyard is harder than it should be. Fresh lobster while perched on a crate in Menemsha is one thing, but fine dining on this island lags behind Nantucket. But now that we’ve discovered State Road, we have a new date night restaurant.

One of the best things about State Road is the fact that it’s BYOB. We were celebrating TJ’s birthday, so we started the evening with a half bottle of Krug Champagne. Krug is TJ’s favorite champagne producer, and this bottle didn’t disappoint. It started off our evening on the right foot with its effervescent bubbles and toasty flavors.

For dinner we opened the 1996 Guiseppe Quintarelli Valpolicella Classico Superiore. TJ bought this bottle in Italy a few years ago after spotting it at a little Enoteca. He bartered with the owner and brought it home in his size 14 shoes. It opened up with a little raisin quality to it, but had lively acidity and an herbaceousness that TJ was excited about. By the time we drank it an hour later, the raisin had changed to black cherry and strawberry. It was light enough for our pork and chicken, but didn’t skimp on flavor at all. TJ was absolutely thrilled.

We were starving, so we started with their House Made Ricotta with Crostini and Olive Oil. Wow. In addition, I smeared some on their homemade rosemary bread, also delicious. The ricotta was SO light and fluffy. Little clouds of goodness.

Next, we split the Sweet Corn Soup with Jonah Crab and the Seared Sea Scallops with Eggplant Puree, Preserved Lemons and Arugula, and Tomato Jus. Neither of these pictures does the food justice. Those scallops were divine. I love eggplant, but get weird about what I’ll pair with it. I never would have thought scallops and eggplant would taste good together, but it worked. And look at the sear on those suckers!

For our entrees, TJ had the Pork Chop with Collard Greens, Tomatoes, Cheddar Grits, and Pancetta. I had the Pan Roasted Chicken with Squash, Chicken Hash, and Roasted Potatoes. I hadn’t had chicken in forever, so this tasted fantastic to me. I would have liked a bowl of the Cheddar Grits on the side, but I was too stuffed. That said, I had a few bites of TJ’s grits and they were great. I heart cheddar grits.

For dessert TJ got the Salted Butterscotch Whiskey Pudding (with a candle) and I got the Yogurt Pannacotta with Blueberry Compote. State Road sources as many products as possible from the island itself and that really showed in my Pannacotta. It was made from milk from Mermaid Farm, a farm just up the road. It was pungent stuff. Like freshly milked and churned kind of stuff. At first it threw me off, but by the end I was digging it. But TJ’s butterscotch pudding stole the entire night. He is so good about sharing bites, but I couldn’t get much out of him when it came to dessert. I guess it was his birthday, after all.

The part that I loved the most about this meal was that State Road took the best local produce and meat from all around the island and featured it in their food. I love when restaurants focus on fresh food like that because you can really taste the difference. I also love that we are supporting all the little farms on the island by eating at State Road. Just a fabulous meal all around.

Happy birthday to TJ. What a week of celebrating it has been!