Eugene Weekly

In his peripatetic novel, The English Major, Jim Harrison nailed down what we need to know about love — this being Love’s month — and wine: “Desire,” he wrote, “is not subject to logic.” We love how — and whom — we love just because we do, damnitall. Continue reading →

I hunkered in my chair, rolling behind the desk, periodically gazing down through grimy windows 17 floors above Eugene’s winter-wet streets. Derelicts and “travelers” huddled in the park, smoking, yakking, looking to score, ducking cops. Through the pebbled glass on the office door, I caught sight of a deformed shadow. The door creaked open. Continue reading →

Christmas? Already? Light the lights, jingle those bells, let’s wassail all season long. It’s a love fest. Quick switch from giving thanks for our gifts, to giving gifts, with our thanks — and lots of love. Now, you might imagine that because you have a wine fiend on your gift list you have this one in the bag: Plunk for a jug of plonk, plop into glitzy bag, designate, done. Not so fast. True, there are thousands of decent wines in stores, and gobs of wine-related gadgets, but getting a wine gift just right can be challenging. Continue reading →

Slumped against the grimy wall, I rode the wheezing elevator, creaking and clanking, to the 15th floor of the old high-rise in downtown Eugene, then ambled down the hall, dodging peeling linoleum, stopped at our office door, Wine Investigations, flaking black letters on frosted glass. The door was ajar, Mole obviously already at work. I pushed in, tossed my ragged fedora on a hook, surveyed our “lab.” I couldn’t suppress the dread that rose in my chest. Continue reading →

I leaned back in my chair, propped my feet on my battle-scarred desk, stared out the window on downtown Eugene and watched as sheets of rain marched across the streets and flattened the tops of the maples. Even on the 17th floor of the burg’s oldest high-rise, the window wore a grimy film. But our office-cum-lab was spotless; obviously, Mole and his wife, Molly, had held us together while I meandered through political nightmares. Continue reading →

It’s time for our annual rendition of “September Song,” ’cause September is wine time. Just as a fr’instance, on Labor Day weekend, almost every Oregon winery/tasting room opens, even many not normally open to the public, and they dress up: music usually, nibbles sometimes, special events of various sorts and, of course, lotsa wine. In case you missed, make a calendar note for next year. Plan a major gig. Get out in the Oregon backcountry, so beautiful, so bountiful, it’ll take your breath away. Continue reading →

We’re getting hot. Summer swelter bears down on us. Gone are those sweetly cooling mists and marine-effect clouds and those lovely air-washing rains. I mean really hot, gasping, throat-drying hot — and just about the same time as our local growers are filling our markets with eye-popping piles of fresh produce. Continue reading →