Hatching Wine Plans in the Comfort of Nostalgia

The Wine Retailer Summit in San Francisco

The University Club of San Francisco is one of the oldest social clubs in San Francisco. It is the very definition of “old school”. It is a brick, Italianate building constructed in 1909 at the corner of Powell and California atop Nob Hill, where the former Leland Stanford Mansion once stood. All four floors of its interior are wood-paneled from corner to corner. Its ambiance brings to mind well-dressed gentlemen, sitting back in leather chairs, smoking and reading and talking and drinking. This is where I have been for the past week.

This was where fine wine retailers from across the country, beverage law attorneys, logistics professionals, bev-tech practitioners, and others working around the wine retail industry gathered for the 9th annual National Association of Wine Retailer’s Summit.

It’s a unique time for a gathering of this sort. The times require a strong stomach. The venue helped soften the blows that were flung at the attendees for two days. I was at the podium for much of this time and looked out into the audience and saw hands go to foreheads frequently as stats, conditions, and reports were delivered on the state of the industry.

My speech on day one was no salve. It proved to be just more salt for the wounds. But as it turned out, my annual State of the Industry talk could be nothing but an irritant given the state of the industry. Indeed, conditions such as high interest rates, inflation, and tariffs are problems. But these will, in time, pass. The real problems facing wine retailers are the systemic kind: A face-to-face society transforming into a screen-to-screen society—meaning less socializing, weight-loss drugs that curb the desire to have a glass of wine, the switch from enjoying a glass of wine to enjoying cannabis, the expansion of the alcoholic beverage choices, and rise of governmental and non-governmental institutions attacking moderate consumption of alcohol as unhealthy.

These systemic and temporary problems were discussed in depth at the Summit by some very compelling speakers, including Dr. Laura Catena, Karen MacNeil, Jon Moromarco, Ben Aneff, John Hinman, W. Blake Gray, Jonathan Cristaldi, Robbie Stevens, Harmon Skurnik, Kate Laughlin, and others. Together they painted a picture. But they also offered a bit of hope—or at least hopeful strategies for moving forward through the current gale force winds that are rocking the industry.

On Wednesday night, the contingent retired to the fourth floor of the University Club, where a huge picture window framed downtown San Francisco, and a BYOB Dinner commenced. This is a tradition at the Summit. All attendees bring their own, and they do not skimp! It is easily the moment during the year when I am exposed to more great wines in one setting than at any other time. Folks move from table to table, pouring wines for each other, absconding with wines being horded at this table or that, and generally enjoying themselves and each other as wine people do.

There is an ideological bent to this Summit. The National Association of Wine Retailers is unapologetically inclined to support fundamental reforms to the three-tier system. The association advocates for DtC shipping for retailers and all producers. It calls for unfettered interstate self-distribution from producer to retailer. And it supports these positions through lobbying and litigation. The attendees know this, so there is little surprise when they get an earful. No other gathering of wine professionals anywhere in the country so enthusiastically transgresses the mainstream ideology of the alcohol beverage industry.

If you walk the four flights of stairs of the University Club instead of taking the creaky old elevator, you will encounter faded photos on the walls of former members, pictures of celebrities who graced the club with their presence, ink drawings of the club from many years past, old pieces of art, and framed letters from dignitaries. There is a comfort in the nostalgia.

At the end of the stairs is a small rotunda. From there, you can walk east into the large dining room with the picture window. You can also walk south into a cozy room with a horseshoe bar, leather couches and chairs, and books on the wall. It’s a great room to lounge in and talk to friends and colleagues, and have a drink. It’s my favorite place in the club and where I retreated for quiet and comfort during the week.

This small room with its leather couches and chairs is also where a number of folks gathered (more like huddled) post-Summit. Planning was happening. Decisions taken. Plans were hatched. The content of the Summit and the reality of the system and conditions in which these wine people were now working seemed to spark a resolve. In most cases, that resolve seemed to amount to merely weathering the current storm. But some plans I witnessed being hatched were more ambitious. Some of the ideas being bandied about by the folks who perched themselves on soft leather couches amounted to insurgencies.

I stayed on one extra night after the Summit ended. The retailers had all left by then. The University Club was calm. On the evening of my last night, I walked to the balcony of the third floor to have a cigar and watch the lights of the nearby skyscrapers and townhouses that surrounded the Club. Two cable car lines converge at this area of Nob Hill, so the sound of nighttime San Francisco here is augmented by the bells of those cars. It’s pleasant.

When I got to the balcony, another man was sitting alone, a club member. He is an engineer and entrepreneur in the midst of raising capital for a project involving tracking shipping containers once they are off the boat and on the ground (apparently, this is more difficult than you would think). He asked about “how wine was doing,” and I told him the truth. He was most intrigued with the anti-alcohol forces working to marginalize alcohol in society, which I relayed to him. Then we got to talking about the Club, its history, and the comfort it brings to the members.

When he got up to leave, he told me, “This club has been here for over 100 years because it’s a source of comfort and retreat for us. It has evolved for sure, but here it still is. I think wine will be just fine for the same reasons.”