Exploring Bainbridge Vineyards: A Woman Owned Winery + Vineyard

It was the 10th sunny photo of a glass of Rosé on Instagram that did it.

I found myself on an unusually warm PacNW Sunday afternoon driving across the Agate Point bridge heading for Bainbridge Vineyards. As I crested the hill on Day Road, I could see the “Pizza Pop-Up” sign above the winery sign, and I started dancing in my seat. I had been to the tasting garden at Bainbridge Vineyards only once before, last summer, on a cool, overcast afternoon with my Mom. As she patiently sat knitting across from me, I sampled my way through the fun and interesting tasting menu. I enjoyed all of the wines, and definitely fell head over heels for the Madeleine Angevine, an aromatic Loire Valley white I had not previously tasted. It was awesome. But this time, I had pizza and pink on my mind….

Driving past fields bursting with summer color, the dirt road to the winery ended just in front of the tasting room. I could see the pizza pop-up – One Two Kai Kitchen & Catering- under the white tent to the right of the main tasting area. I ordered the “Ferry Boat” pizza- a delicious combination with apples, mozzarella, caramelized orange marmalade, gorgonzola, rosemary, lemon zest, with a kabocha squash sauce. (I know, crazy right?! It.Was.So.Good.) While the pizza baked, I headed for the tasting area.

While the Spring Tasting Flight – Madeleine Angevine, Müller-Thurgau, Ferryboat White Blend and Pinot Noir - looked dazzling, it was the new 2021 Emerge Rosé that I had my eye on. A “blend of Old World varietals” (per the tasting menu), it had exactly the flavor and acid profile I was looking for on that hot afternoon – strawberry, raspberry, and cranberry with mouth-watering acidity.

I chose a comfortable seat under an umbrella, and sat enjoying my glass of Rosé while my pizza cooked. Birds were chirping, there was a light breeze, and bursts of laughter came from a group next to me. It was the perfect environment to sip my Rosé and relax. The patio is cheerful, spacious and pretty, with small clusters of tables, chairs and colorful umbrellas spread out around the winery building. You can even choose to take your tastings into the meadow above if you wish! Flowering plants wave in the breeze, and flowers and greenery spill from pots around the tasting area. There are jugs of water on offer, and interesting signage around talking about the history of the property. Beautiful, functional and educational. My kind of place.

“We are both farmer and winemaker at Bainbridge Vineyards.” - Betsey Wittick

The history of Bainbridge Vineyards dates back to 1977, and the Suyematsu Bentryn farmland to 1928. The farmland originally belonged to the Japanese-American farmer Akio Suyematsu, and is today the longest continuous use of agriculture in Kitsap County. It was purchased by Gerard and Jo Ann Bentryn in 1977 for Bainbridge Vineyards. After falling in love with the cooler climate wines of the Loire Valley in France, the Mosel in Germany, and wine regions in Austria, the Bentryns decided to plant varietals that were suited to similar bioregions- unusual varietals to find outside of Europe such as Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir, Madeleine Angevine, Siegerrebe, Müller-Thurgau, Zweigelt, Regent, Garanoir, and Dunkefelder. Gerard Bentryn was instrumental in establishing the Puget Sound AVA in 1995.

When the Bentryns retired, Betsey Wittick, a longtime friend and employee who had been making wine on Bainbridge Island since 1988, reopened the vineyard and winery in 2013 under cooperative ownership. In 2014, the vineyards were granted organic certification, and Bainbridge Vineyards is now the first B-Corp certified winery in Washington state. The property on Day Road continues to be a working farm property, home to 5 farms that share the land, and the estate vineyards lie within 8 of these 40 acres today. This biodiversity is important to the quality of the wines, and the property is a certified wildlife sanctuary. The vineyard and winery are now woman-led.

It is my absolute pleasure to be able to share the story of Bainbridge Vineyards with you, as it is a women led business and also happens to be in my neck of the woods. If you visit the Pacific Northwest, do make visiting Bainbridge Vineyards a special priority on your itinerary. It’s definitely worth the time- and try to catch the pizza pop-up if you can! Cheers!

Seeds of Travel: School Plays & Road Trips

This is how it all started:

When my brother and I were young, our parents would often pile us in the car to go visit our family and friends on the West Coast. California, Oregon, Washington, Arizona- at the time, we thought this was SO COOL. We would play the license plate game in the backseat, giggle at all of the crazy Mad Libs stories we concocted, eat McDonald’s from the drive-thru, and stay in motels- all of which felt like an awesome adventure. We would swim in the hotel pool until our fingers turned into prunes, watch funny shows on TV, and mix together every single sugary cereal we could at the hotel breakfast buffet.

In the quiet time in the car, I loved staring out the car, imagining what lives were happening behind curtained windows and down pretty driveways. This time always felt separate somehow from reality. Upon arrival at our destinations, we were frequently greeted by slobbering dogs or chirping birds, dashing madly into a backyard swimming pool as soon as we could manage it. While I realize now that these road trips and stays with family were away for my parents to afford to take us on vacation without having to spend a lot of money, these trips planted travel seeds somewhere in my psyche. The trips instilled in me the urge to get the heck out of town every now and again, for a change of scenery, different food, and climate, and as a way to meet new people, if just while playing in the pool.

One of my earliest memories of the French language is the play that our second-grade French class put on for our school. We set up a small, round table on the school auditorium stage, covered with blue and white checked tablecloths, tiny vases with flowers, and tall menus standing on end. Our little café complete, we donned our berets, took our places, and sat nervously as the other school children filed in. Our wonderful teacher, Madame Bernabe, directed quietly as we ordered hot chocolates and slices of quiche from our classmates, making sure to pronounce our words correctly and loud enough for the auditorium to hear. I don’t remember much of what happened after that, but ordering my first hot chocolate and slice of quiche in a Paris café some twenty years later, that memory came warmly flooding back.

My brother and I were constantly in and out of private and public schools throughout our childhood. While my brother took up Spanish in 7th grade instead of French, I stayed on with French because I loved it. In class, I watched how crepes and raclette were made- my brave teacher making us snacks in the classroom to demonstrate the importance of food in French culture. We sang the songs that French children sang at Christmas, watched video stories of French children exploring Paris after school, and began to recognize different cities on a map of France. Over time, I studied the art and architecture of France, falling in love with Monet and the Rococo period, and learning more about France’s complicated history. I loved the sound of the language, and the personalities of the people I absorbed from the page, the screen, and the paintings. I longed to go to France and see it all for myself.

It would make sense then, that on a snowy, freezing winter day in New York City when I stumbled upon a used book called “A Year in Provence” by Peter Mayle in a bookshop that I ducked into in order to escape the cold, I snapped it up immediately. In fact, there were 3 other books beside it on the shelf that I bought, too- “Encore Provence”, “Toujours Provence” and “French Lessons”. I spent that winter spellbound by the magical, sunny world of Provence, the author’s adopted homeland. Mr. Mayle spun hilarious stories of home renovation, wily peasants, funny plumbers, weekly open-air markets, visits to vineyards, epic dinners, and the pleasures of whiling away time people-watching in a café. They were tales of a pace of life and culture that resonated in my heart.

Since that snowy winter, I’ve traveled to France many times. I’ve even completed the wine Marathon du Medoc that Peter Mayle described in one of his books. My Mom and I have explored much of this vast, complex country, eating, drinking, and laughing our way along while learning ever more about France and French culture. We’ve tasted Champagne in cellars four stories beneath the streets, accidentally ordered swordfish tartare in a smoke-heavy restaurant, listened to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons performed in the glittering Chapel at Saint-Germain-de-Pré in Paris, battled jet lag on a train to Avignon, wandered around Roman monuments and World War Two memorials, and laughed so hard driving down a country road that we had to pull over because we had tears streaming down our faces and could no longer see. Our adventures have not always been glamorous or without challenges, but we have taken them in stride as we have embraced being foreigners in a new place.

The little girl in a beret carefully pronouncing her vowels on the auditorium stage would be proud. So would the little girl daydreaming in the backseat of our family car, and the young woman curled up reading in a Manhattan studio in a snowstorm. I can’t wait to get started on this next great adventure- Vibrant Travelers.