Rootstock/Graft

...had studied viticulture and enology at a good ag college, ended up a rep for a big winery, schlepping taster cases and sweating in kitchens or barside with wine buyers, assistant managers, the occasional sommelier. In school, he endured so much faux palate jargon that he’d been leery of his classmate’s pitch to go in on a wine shop after graduation. This guy was known for his detailed tasting notes. He could make the sourest riesling seem like your first bite of ripe honeydew at brunch after a night of sweet sex with the love of your life. Ed had declined. Now the place had two sister stores—Rootstock and Graft—and a thriving internet wine club. Last time he checked, the guy had partnered with local craft brewers on limited release ales aged in champagne and brandy barrels. One of the beer’s labels showed the man posing, meaty forearms dynamically tattooed, grinning for posterity.