If you are hesitant about trying Texas wine because of a previous bad experience or something you have heard, I understand. I’ve been there.
But things have changed.
Big Accolades. High Scores. Real Momentum.
I saw the first hints of Texas wine’s potential years ago.
I remember hearing that Pedernales Cellars’ 2012 Viognier Reserve had won the Grand Gold—the highest possible honor—at the 2013 Lyon International Wine Competition in France. It was the only Grand Gold awarded to an American wine that year. It signaled international recognition that a Texas-grown white wine could stand with the best in the world.
I couldn’t help but smile whenever I saw their wines at H-E-B. There was an odd sense of pride—almost as if, as a Texan, I were somehow connected to the victory.
About a year later, my wife and I were with friends at the Bending Branch tasting room in Comfort, where we learned that the 2010 Bending Branch Cabernet Sauvignon from Newsom Vineyards had taken Double Gold at the 2014 San Francisco International Wine Competition.
As I recall, the price of that bottle soon jumped to $100—more than I was willing to pay at the time, with kids still in school.
We then walked next door with our friends to what was then the Plaid Goat restaurant and found that same bottle on the wine list for $70. It felt like a steal, so we bought it and toasted the triumph.
That wasn’t just a good wine—it felt like a turning point. Texas wasn’t just trying to make wine anymore. We were making wines that could compete on any stage.
Over time, those early successes began to accumulate—and people outside Texas started to take notice.
Fast forward to 2024: Jim Gordon, a critic with James Suckling’s organization—one of the most influential voices in wine—came to Texas to taste and rate our wines. He didn’t come here on a goodwill tour. He came to evaluate quality. And he found it.
Calais Winery’s 2020 Cabernet Sauvignon (Clone 47) from Narra Vineyards received 96 points. French Connection’s 2021 Mourvèdre from Dell Valley Vineyards and Robert Clay Vineyards’ 2015 Texas Hill Country Merlot both earned 95 points. And they weren’t alone. Adega Vinho, Calais, French Connection, Pedernales Cellars, Texas Heritage Vineyard, Uplift Vineyard, and William Chris Vineyards all had wines scoring 94 points.
These are serious accolades—competitive with the best wines from Napa, Tuscany, and Bordeaux.
If you’re looking for outstanding wine, start here.
Behind Every Bottle, a Story
But it’s not just about points or press. It’s about people.
I first met Jim Johnson at a THCW event and was struck by his story, which led me to visit him at Alamosa Wine Cellars. He told me about leaving a corporate career to study winemaking at UC Davis, returning home to Texas to make wine, and ultimately building a winery from the ground up. There was no roadmap. He helped write it.
When I heard about a 95-point Texas Merlot aged in French oak for 26 months, rated by James Suckling’s organization, I had to check it out. So last year, I made the trip to Mason, Texas, to see Dan and Blake McLaughlin at Robert Clay Vineyards.
Dan left the tech world in Austin and moved his family to Mason, where he bought a neglected vineyard—overgrown and largely forgotten after the previous owner’s illness. He didn’t have a background in farming or winemaking; he had a vision for a different kind of life.
Today, Robert Clay Vineyards has had four wines receive 95-point scores from James Suckling’s team in the last two years, placing them among the highest-rated wines in the state.
Stories like theirs aren’t exceptions in Texas.
Whether it’s a fifth-generation farmer or a first-generation winemaker, almost every vineyard owner and grower in Texas has a story that connects the wine to something real, something rooted.
A Sense of Place, A Sense of Pride
In 2024 I walked with my wife, in Madrid, to Plaza de Santa Ana. The square was buzzing, every table filled, every menu filled with Spanish wine—from Rías Baixas to Rioja to Ribera del Duero. That made sense. We were in Spain. Of course we were going to drink Spanish wine. It was part of the experience—place, people, and palate, all aligned.
The same is true here. When you drink Texas wine, you’re not just tasting what’s in the glass. You’re tasting the Hill Country limestone, the High Plains wind that sweeps across the red sandy loam, the relentless sun of the Trans-Pecos. You’re connecting to the land, to the weather that shaped the vintage, to the hands that worked the vines, and to a community that’s defining itself one bottle at a time.
Yes, we share some traits with southern France or inland Spain—Mediterranean varietals like Mourvèdre, Tempranillo, and Viognier may thrive here—but no one else makes wine exactly like we do. Our wines are distinct because our place is distinct.
What Grows Together Goes Together
There’s a reason the phrase “what grows together goes together” has stood the test of time. Wines and regional foods evolve side-by-side. They’re made for each other.
Texas wine pairs naturally with the foods we love—beef ribs, smoked sausage, venison, chile, Gulf Coast seafood, Tex-Mex, and fire-roasted vegetables. It’s not just about matching flavors. It’s about celebrating the culture and climate that gave rise to both.
Try a Tempranillo with smoked brisket. A High Plains Picpoul with shrimp tacos. A Hill Country Mourvèdre with mesquite-grilled quail. The pairings aren’t just good—they’re intuitive.
Responsible, Local, and Sustainable
Drinking local isn’t just a culinary decision—it’s an environmental one. When you buy a bottle made with Texas grapes, you reduce the carbon footprint tied to shipping wine across oceans or overland. But more importantly, you’re supporting grape growers who are farming with Texas conditions in mind: less water, more heat, and often, minimal intervention.
Many Texas winemakers are planting Mediterranean and Iberian varieties that are drought-tolerant and naturally suited to our climate. That’s not just smart—it’s sustainable. These growers are pioneering new ways to farm responsibly in a changing climate, and we can support them with every glass we pour.
A Celebration of Texas
Drinking Texas wine is a celebration—of creativity, of resilience, of bold experimentation and quiet craftsmanship. It’s a celebration of a state that does things its own way and doesn’t wait for permission.
We champion our barbecue, our music, our football, and our landscapes. Why wouldn’t we champion our wine?
If you haven’t explored Texas wine lately—or if you’ve only scratched the surface—it’s time to dive in. Visit a tasting room. Talk to a winemaker. Walk the vineyard rows. Open a bottle with friends.
This isn’t about regional loyalty for its own sake. It’s about recognizing and participating in something real, something remarkable, and something that’s still unfolding.
And the best way to understand it is to pour a glass and taste it for yourself.
