I still remember coming across your writing about obscure varieties some 12+ years ago—Teroldego, maybe? Or was it Saperavi?—right at the start of our own wine odyssey. Reading it felt vindicating, like someone else out there saw the potential in these far-flung places and grapes the way we did.
I always admired Bay Grape from afar. It’s rare that a wine shop reaches past the community it serves, but you did. What y’all built mattered in ways that will long outlast the keys being handed over. But more than that, I admire this next step you’ve taken. Because letting go is hard, but it’s also brave.
I think what so many of us starting at that time are feeling, consciously or not, is that the wine industry—and the world—is shifting beneath our feet, which feels obvious, I know. The things we built a decade ago don’t need holding onto anymore. Not because they weren’t worth it, but because we aren’t the same people, and the world isn’t the same place. And I believe that means you’ll be ready when the next thing comes, whatever that may be.
I don’t think the spark ever really disappears—it just changes shape. What once burned bright in one place takes time to flicker back to life somewhere else. And when it does, it’s always different, and maybe that’s the best part.
And for what it’s worth, the world needs more wine writers who care as deeply as you do—who can share that enthusiasm in a way that actually connects. That matters just as much, if not more.
As someone who still sometimes clings to the “I used to…” identity I really feel this. Thinking of you and hoping your next steps feel better and better.
Doing this stuff for a living is like being a NFL running back. It’s a short career at best, and then the well runs dry, and you go into some related field along with an overstuffed bag of “what ifs” and “did i hang it up too soons”.
Inevitably, age gives you the wisdom to know that when a pursuit that’s supposed to fill you up has actually drained your tank, walking away is simply common sense. If you do it right and do it quickly, the itch eventually comes back, and then it’s up to the individual to get back in the game in a way that’s more appropriate to a life that’s meant to be lived and not scheduled around the needs of a capricious and erratic business that’s basically the equivalent of herding cats.
You’ll be back, but whatever you do when you come back, I’m betting you’ll be doing it 100% on your terms. I’m also betting that you’ll be your own proverbial “customer number one”, and doing anything that doesn’t please and reward you first will be a non-starter. 99.999% of your clients don’t know and don’t care about the process of how anything you’re doing in the hospitality space comes to be; in return, that gives you the absolute right to do everything in a way that pleases and serves you first. Only sociopaths and crooks run businesses like ours as a grift, so it’s inevitable that what pleases and rewards you will do the same for your next audience.
As a frequent high-burnout-rate person in my earlier years, I’ve learned not to give advice to anyone in food and wine, because I’m the last person to whom anyone should listen…but if you’re feeling no spark, I’d say that’s a good thing. That’s you protecting you from you. When the spark does come back, here’s hoping you keep that spark and don’t let it become a forest fire.
Great writing. You've undoubtedly run great businesses with successes, failures, and all. It's part of life's journey, and you've expressed the most important part at the end: "I am unworried about which direction to turn, open to exploring. I am sore, longing, grieving, sad, happy, alive, exuberant, unfurling. I am off to discover a new route." Discover that route; you have several life encores ahead of you. Congrats!
Thank you for sharing this extremely relatable story of loss and identity. I also am a small business owner in Napa, I visited your lovely wine bar a couple times, but not enough and I’m sorry about that. But as you can imagine I’m constantly bogged down by the stress of ‘keeping it all going’. This will feel like a loss - but remember that you are gaining some new mental space to be curious and clever, the business may have dissolved - but your talents have not. It’s time to reflect and then reinvent!
You really are a great writer, Stevie. Having your own small business is not easy (understatement). Especially these days. Especially in this area of the country. To those who know you, you did great.
This was beautifully written, Stevie. Thanks for braving the vulnerability and sharing it with all of us. I really appreciated the chance to read it. For what it's worth, I still fondly recall my internship at Bay Grape in the fall of 2014. I'd just quit restaurants for good and you and Josiah gave me exactly what I needed as an enthusiastic but directionless young man: purpose, stability, and mentorship. I have such great memories of you two teaching me how to blind taste (which I still get mileage out of even though I don't drink wine as much as I did a decade ago), chuckling over our inside jokes at the shop, grooving to good records, greeting regulars and making new friends, washing lots of glasses, learning about new grapes and regions, and our legendary staff party where I shared my wine rap over bubbles and Chinese food. Biking to work at Bay Grape felt like a magical combination of biking home, going to college, and hanging out with my hippest friends. Thanks for everything you did for me, for the Bay Area, and for wine. I appreciate you!
Hi Stevie, I was one of those people that didn’t comment on your announcement that you sold Bay Grape. But reading this inspired me to reach out. I am very impressed and touched by the eloquent way you expressed such complex and personal experiences. I had no idea you were going through so much these past few years. I understand now why you sold both places.
I was a regular for the first few years at the Oakland store and was always impressed by how you and Josiah effortlessly made a community there. I quickly was comfortable hanging out there and always met new people to talk to. When I moved further away, I didn’t come around as often and by that time it was already different for me without you guys there. But know that you did make a difference by creating a welcoming space, making wine a lot less douchy, and encouraging diversity-seen in who you hired, winemakers you supported and by making wine accessible.
Anyway, I am sure you will find your way through this to start the next chapter. It took courage to start the business and it takes courage to let it go. You’re clearly talented, determined and hella ballsy!
-best of luck! I’m sending a big hug! Roberta Gambetti
Of my many great memories from 7 years of living in the Bay Area, spending afternoons at Bay Grape with my sister and you all were truly my favorite. Thank you for creating such a special place (and introducing me to Arnot Roberts rosé!) — if you ever need an excuse to visit Chicago, holler, would love to see you.
Thanks for sharing so openly. I've been a customer and wine club member at Bay Grape for the past 4 years, and you and your team has taught me a lot about natural wines. I appreciate the experience you created, the vibe of the Oakland store, and wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors. I also appreciate your response to my job inquiry and inspiring me to keep learning about wine and building a career in the industry. Thank you again.
Stevie, I empathize. Reading this post was hard, because I'm burnt out and it doesn't seem like there's an exit. This industry is beautiful, yes, and it will eat you alive. I never set foot in the door of your shop, but I was a member of the wine club shipments and I enjoyed them and shared them with staff. I kept up the membership to not develop a "cellar pallet," to keep myself current in global offerings while I focused on making some very specific wines. Wishing you much success and rest as you move on to other things. <3
Thank you so much for your post. Vulnerability indeed.
Two things I want to tell you most of all:
1) Your holiday winebox this last year absolutely made my season. My favorite was the one with the... silky grip? But each was incredible. I should have thanked you sooner.
2) You still have a spark. I can see it in your writing, plain as day.
Last July, I lost my job, unexpectedly, and much of your writing resonates with my experience. It has been a painful growing experience, with many changes of identity along the way.
I'm happy to say that I've come out on the other side, and I feel more myself than I ever did before.
I have no idea if these will work for you, but there's a pair of songs that I've found cathartic.
I am still grieving you guys not being at Bay Grape - we were die hard customers from the beginning, and enjoyed every damn moment there as well as every bottle of wine. Miss your presence there .... not the same, just saying!
I still remember coming across your writing about obscure varieties some 12+ years ago—Teroldego, maybe? Or was it Saperavi?—right at the start of our own wine odyssey. Reading it felt vindicating, like someone else out there saw the potential in these far-flung places and grapes the way we did.
I always admired Bay Grape from afar. It’s rare that a wine shop reaches past the community it serves, but you did. What y’all built mattered in ways that will long outlast the keys being handed over. But more than that, I admire this next step you’ve taken. Because letting go is hard, but it’s also brave.
I think what so many of us starting at that time are feeling, consciously or not, is that the wine industry—and the world—is shifting beneath our feet, which feels obvious, I know. The things we built a decade ago don’t need holding onto anymore. Not because they weren’t worth it, but because we aren’t the same people, and the world isn’t the same place. And I believe that means you’ll be ready when the next thing comes, whatever that may be.
I don’t think the spark ever really disappears—it just changes shape. What once burned bright in one place takes time to flicker back to life somewhere else. And when it does, it’s always different, and maybe that’s the best part.
And for what it’s worth, the world needs more wine writers who care as deeply as you do—who can share that enthusiasm in a way that actually connects. That matters just as much, if not more.
Deeply appreciate this encouragement and these reminders.
As someone who still sometimes clings to the “I used to…” identity I really feel this. Thinking of you and hoping your next steps feel better and better.
Doing this stuff for a living is like being a NFL running back. It’s a short career at best, and then the well runs dry, and you go into some related field along with an overstuffed bag of “what ifs” and “did i hang it up too soons”.
Inevitably, age gives you the wisdom to know that when a pursuit that’s supposed to fill you up has actually drained your tank, walking away is simply common sense. If you do it right and do it quickly, the itch eventually comes back, and then it’s up to the individual to get back in the game in a way that’s more appropriate to a life that’s meant to be lived and not scheduled around the needs of a capricious and erratic business that’s basically the equivalent of herding cats.
You’ll be back, but whatever you do when you come back, I’m betting you’ll be doing it 100% on your terms. I’m also betting that you’ll be your own proverbial “customer number one”, and doing anything that doesn’t please and reward you first will be a non-starter. 99.999% of your clients don’t know and don’t care about the process of how anything you’re doing in the hospitality space comes to be; in return, that gives you the absolute right to do everything in a way that pleases and serves you first. Only sociopaths and crooks run businesses like ours as a grift, so it’s inevitable that what pleases and rewards you will do the same for your next audience.
As a frequent high-burnout-rate person in my earlier years, I’ve learned not to give advice to anyone in food and wine, because I’m the last person to whom anyone should listen…but if you’re feeling no spark, I’d say that’s a good thing. That’s you protecting you from you. When the spark does come back, here’s hoping you keep that spark and don’t let it become a forest fire.
You done got me all teary over here. Thank you so, so much for these words.
Great writing. You've undoubtedly run great businesses with successes, failures, and all. It's part of life's journey, and you've expressed the most important part at the end: "I am unworried about which direction to turn, open to exploring. I am sore, longing, grieving, sad, happy, alive, exuberant, unfurling. I am off to discover a new route." Discover that route; you have several life encores ahead of you. Congrats!
Thank you for sharing this extremely relatable story of loss and identity. I also am a small business owner in Napa, I visited your lovely wine bar a couple times, but not enough and I’m sorry about that. But as you can imagine I’m constantly bogged down by the stress of ‘keeping it all going’. This will feel like a loss - but remember that you are gaining some new mental space to be curious and clever, the business may have dissolved - but your talents have not. It’s time to reflect and then reinvent!
You really are a great writer, Stevie. Having your own small business is not easy (understatement). Especially these days. Especially in this area of the country. To those who know you, you did great.
This was beautifully written, Stevie. Thanks for braving the vulnerability and sharing it with all of us. I really appreciated the chance to read it. For what it's worth, I still fondly recall my internship at Bay Grape in the fall of 2014. I'd just quit restaurants for good and you and Josiah gave me exactly what I needed as an enthusiastic but directionless young man: purpose, stability, and mentorship. I have such great memories of you two teaching me how to blind taste (which I still get mileage out of even though I don't drink wine as much as I did a decade ago), chuckling over our inside jokes at the shop, grooving to good records, greeting regulars and making new friends, washing lots of glasses, learning about new grapes and regions, and our legendary staff party where I shared my wine rap over bubbles and Chinese food. Biking to work at Bay Grape felt like a magical combination of biking home, going to college, and hanging out with my hippest friends. Thanks for everything you did for me, for the Bay Area, and for wine. I appreciate you!
Oh, White Pepper; I miss those days and you! Thanks for sending that encouragement my way. xo
Stevie,
You are bad Sis, you are wonderful.
Gilgamesh here, hope You remember Me.
Haven't been in Bay Grape in long time, ride by often (don't get madAtMe now, lol).
Just gotta tell You, "Look, You are raw, You're bad. No doubt about it.
Your wine shop and everything You did is YOU, that ain't go'n nowhere.
Wonderful place, fabulous, alot of knowHow, talent, skill, energy, love, everything.
You helped Oakland (and THAT is You, isn't it?).
So go'ne with Your badSelf.
The "personal is momentary".
All the best to Y'All (You andFamily).
Be Well.
Love you dearly. Thank you for this.
Hi Stevie, I was one of those people that didn’t comment on your announcement that you sold Bay Grape. But reading this inspired me to reach out. I am very impressed and touched by the eloquent way you expressed such complex and personal experiences. I had no idea you were going through so much these past few years. I understand now why you sold both places.
I was a regular for the first few years at the Oakland store and was always impressed by how you and Josiah effortlessly made a community there. I quickly was comfortable hanging out there and always met new people to talk to. When I moved further away, I didn’t come around as often and by that time it was already different for me without you guys there. But know that you did make a difference by creating a welcoming space, making wine a lot less douchy, and encouraging diversity-seen in who you hired, winemakers you supported and by making wine accessible.
Anyway, I am sure you will find your way through this to start the next chapter. It took courage to start the business and it takes courage to let it go. You’re clearly talented, determined and hella ballsy!
-best of luck! I’m sending a big hug! Roberta Gambetti
Thanks so much for this note, Roberta! I fondly remember all our evenings together and am wishing you much joy.
To infinity and beyond!
Of my many great memories from 7 years of living in the Bay Area, spending afternoons at Bay Grape with my sister and you all were truly my favorite. Thank you for creating such a special place (and introducing me to Arnot Roberts rosé!) — if you ever need an excuse to visit Chicago, holler, would love to see you.
Thanks for sharing so openly. I've been a customer and wine club member at Bay Grape for the past 4 years, and you and your team has taught me a lot about natural wines. I appreciate the experience you created, the vibe of the Oakland store, and wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors. I also appreciate your response to my job inquiry and inspiring me to keep learning about wine and building a career in the industry. Thank you again.
Stevie, I empathize. Reading this post was hard, because I'm burnt out and it doesn't seem like there's an exit. This industry is beautiful, yes, and it will eat you alive. I never set foot in the door of your shop, but I was a member of the wine club shipments and I enjoyed them and shared them with staff. I kept up the membership to not develop a "cellar pallet," to keep myself current in global offerings while I focused on making some very specific wines. Wishing you much success and rest as you move on to other things. <3
Thank you for the support, James, and I'm sending you all the empathy and encouragement.
Hello Stevie,
Thank you so much for your post. Vulnerability indeed.
Two things I want to tell you most of all:
1) Your holiday winebox this last year absolutely made my season. My favorite was the one with the... silky grip? But each was incredible. I should have thanked you sooner.
2) You still have a spark. I can see it in your writing, plain as day.
Last July, I lost my job, unexpectedly, and much of your writing resonates with my experience. It has been a painful growing experience, with many changes of identity along the way.
I'm happy to say that I've come out on the other side, and I feel more myself than I ever did before.
I have no idea if these will work for you, but there's a pair of songs that I've found cathartic.
Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold:
https://open.spotify.com/track/1KQc37jezhunxnOPhvdwSG?si=e66c704d27c04964
Higher Love by Whitney Houston:
https://open.spotify.com/track/6vqEctRr6hDFEeIkFUNWUf?si=37629ff292744ff5
I want to wish you many wonderful runs, and I am looking forward to your next post.
Best wishes,
-Ryan
'bout to crank up Whitney over here...
Thank you. So much.
I am still grieving you guys not being at Bay Grape - we were die hard customers from the beginning, and enjoyed every damn moment there as well as every bottle of wine. Miss your presence there .... not the same, just saying!