My name is Dan O’Brien. I am not from California. I don’t own a vineyard or a winery. I am not backed by family land or inherited wealth. I grew up in Rhode Island, shoveling my driveway and helping my old Italian neighbor rack his homemade “chianti.” By high school, I was building case stacks of Carlo Rossi at the local package store. During college, I spent my nights shucking oysters and tending bar at restaurants in downtown Providence.
I worked my way up through the hospitality industry, eventually becoming a sommelier at one of Boston’s best restaurants. From there, I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, where I opened a luxury hotel and built the wine list for its Michelin-starred restaurant. I even ran the operations for one of Napa Valley’s oldest vineyard estates. Through all these experiences, one thing remained constant. I wanted to make my own wines, wines that are both respectable and approachable.
But before any of that, just weeks before I moved to California, my mother suddenly passed away. I feel lucky to have even known her. Making these wines is my way of celebrating her life.