When will I learn?! When will I put my foot down and say, “No honey, I am not a human guinea pig. I will not eat, nor drink something just because the fine people of La Rioja like it. And yes, I do love you, and I do appreciate your fine moral standards to try everything once, but love shouldn’t translate to my eating fried pig ears!” I say this having ingested one big, slimy, hairy and juicy bite of a pig’s ear last Friday night after thoroughly enjoying a round of perfectly sauteed mushrooms! The thought of it still makes my stomach churn in disgust; praying that one day, the image will disappear from my mind.

This isn’t the first time I’ve caved in after seeing Ryan’s eyes light up in fire, furious that I would succumb to my psychological fears. An open mind for me, means that I respect other people’s choices, as long as they don’t hurt themselves or others. Ryan, on the other hand, is fiery and passionate, a major reason why I adore him. No matter how grotesque a beverage or food item might be, he’ll happily take on the challenge, eager to research what others find appealing in the experience. And if those around him crave his respect, they best approach life like they were participating in Survivor, consuming anything that is even remotely edible. He’s not masochistic, requiring you to finish it if you don’t enjoy it, but he does ask that you try everything, once.

And against all logic, I’ll continue to follow his lead! I love his ridiculously high standards that he asks of not only himself, but others. I love his passion …

When we first decided to commit two months to La Rioja wine, I had a lot of concerns. First, I didn’t know how we were going to cover the subject in such a short amount of time with important events not La Rioja related thrown into the mix. The answer was simple, it’s impossible. The second, and more difficult concern, was how to define La Rioja wine, not by geography, climate or style, but as a general concept. Imagine this question, which I’m sure more than one of you retailers have had asked of them, “What does it taste like? What is the flavor of La Rioja?” Initially, my answer would have been something like this: Rioja reds tend to have oxidized notes from prolonged aging with some exceptions for wines made in a more modern style where big fruit plays the primary role. Would I have been wrong? No. But would I have done this historic and culturally rich region a disservice? Definitely!

After a full week of tasting, talking and sightseeing, my attitudes have changed. I have now adopted a new outlook on La Rioja. In typical high school essay fashion, I have three points I want to make clear about “the taste of La Rioja” as I see it now. But first, I want to preface my thoughts by sharing with you how much I’ve learned as a result of this trip, and how I have acquired a new appreciation for the region. La Rioja wines, both in their past and future styles, are wines that deserve praise (not that they needed telling). And without a doubt, these wines are some of the best in the world; however, La Rioja wines need to …

Editor’s Note: This was technically written a few days ago, while we were still in Rioja, but due to limited computer access, we were unable to post it. Enjoy!

It’s always incredible to have that rare moment when you wake up at 6:45am and feel fantastic.The last few days, I’ve wanted a full body massage from walking miles upon miles through long, humid cellar tunnels lined with cold, hard stone floors. And if you’ve ever worked in a job that’s required you to stand for long hours on these unforgiving surfaces, I trust you’re familiar with that overall achy sensation, making you wonder if you’re either getting older or merely more vapid in your decision to continually make the same decision over and over again expecting different results. Eating my sweet jam and manchego cheese covered toast with piping hot coffee this morning, I considered the other choices I could have made in life rather than visiting bodega after bodega for a week straight, and I quickly realized that this life sure as hell beats that of paranormal psychologist - my childhood dream career. Obviously my aches might diminish in frequency, but I’d never get to taste the fruit of my research. Hence, no comparison. Bring on the wine!

Heading out of the hotel and into the cold, damp drizzle in order to meet Ryan, I felt relieved that I no longer allowed myself to watch him pull out the car from the garage. On day two of our trip, after hearing me quickly inhale and hold my breath every two seconds, terrified that our rental would become close friends with the underground cement pillars, we agreed that I was forbidden to enter the garage. So when …