I tasted the 1995 Adelsheim Pinot Noir on my very first day of work at a new restaurant in Chicago back in 1997. It was my first Oregon wine. I tasted three that day, all Pinot Noirs, all 1995s, and I finally felt like I “got” wine. I had found some indescribable passion, some wild and frenzied mania for something that I’d try to share with people like a mad, sign-wielding fanatic on the roadside hollering about the end of days. Oft ignored, I became the
preacher of a religion with virtually no followers, and a church I had never even seen. I read, I tasted, I pored over maps, I envied those that knew the pronunciations better than I did, and I dreamed of Oregon.
As the restaurant became a bit of a staple in Chicago, carrying wines only from California, Oregon, and Washington, so too did we become a place visited frequently by winemakers and others from those places. So it was that I began to meet the main characters, the band of crazies and dreamers that were building the Oregon wine industry, and I was rapt. I soon realized the “thing” about Oregon wines that existed at the edge of my imagination like a broken dream unremembered, was the very idea that something wild, something gutsy, something passionate, could be so fulfilling, and so arguably wonderful, and yet so few people were doing it. So it is, that I packed my bags and moved west. For good.
At an Oregon Wine Trade Panel, Gary Andrus once said something to the effect of, “Making wine in Oregon means that 1 out of every 10 vintages will be as close to perfection as you can get. The rest of them are just an exercise in patience and futility.” And yet, here they all are, reaching for that magic at the edge of their imaginations. I was now a part of that.
Fast forward to 2025 and my heart still belongs to the Oregon wine industry. These last few years have been a difficult illustration and magnification of what makes people tick, of what drives people or, in some cases, what doesn’t. I have to have that wild and frenzied heart for what I do in order to be fulfilled and, without it, there isn’t joy. Put me in the boat with the weird people, I suppose.
Since moving to Oregon in 2007, I’ve put my education, certifications, and creativity to effective use making wine, selling wine, talking about wine, and learning… about wine. But nothing has been as important as the constant and never-ending drive to make, do, or be something excellent, and to find it in this magical place I call home.
Mike believes these are his most important credentials:
M.Ed – Loyola University Chicago
Graduate Certificate – Viticulture & Enology – UCDavis
A passport filled with location stamps
A hungry heart
