Down-home Tuscan cooking with a touch of Washington white wine charm.

If you don’t remember, the summer of 2009 was hot. You bought your first real six-string at the five and dime, you were sweating and whining about the heat like most Seattleites naturally do all the while the grapes in the vineyards of the Pacific Northwest were getting fat and tan, with sugars inside the fruit and bronzing skin on the outside.

BOKA’s house infused cocktails claim natural chemistry with their ahi tuna poke.

A fine line is drawn between astute artist and mad scientist when it comes to the creation of beverage. Be it the chemistry lab that is never shown on a winery tour (where a lot of the magic truly happens in a less than immaculate vintage) to the elaborate temperature measurements taken while

Don’t mess with Alaska’s Copper River Salmon and Oregon Pinot Noir.

I was making friends while flying solo at a bar top a few weeks back with a half dozen dames in town from Anchorage, Alaska. After explaining what I do (the answer was “a lot of things with booze in the Northwest?”), the ladies inquired as to why their fare state is not clumped into the general “Pacific Northwest” group.

So many colors, so many flavors and plenty of time in the sun to enjoy them both this spring.

The thermostat rises above 60 degrees and this ardent wine consumer is cracking open some Vinho Verde. If you’re not familiar with the green wine of Portugal, you should get acquainted. It’s cheap (usually around $8 retail), it’s spritzy (just a enough fizz to tickle your tongue) and