It was Christmas of 1994 when I yelled across the six other people in our minivan and over "Here Comes Santa Claus" blaring from the tape deck to my mom all the way in the driver's seat, "What's a prostitute?" In my imperfect memory, the car came to a screeching halt and everything went silent like a scene from a movie. In reality, I think she yelled back, "Ask me later!" and kept on driving. She can, every once in a while, play it cool like that.
I asked again later, and she demanded to know where I'd heard that word. Talking to my friends about Pretty Woman, naturally. Mom and I had watched the movie so many times I'm surprised the tape still worked, but she never let me watch the sex scene (you know the one I'm talking about - where they're on the piano and it's truly, ridiculously sexy and inappropriate for an 8-year-old). She explained prostitute to me and then probably reconsidered ever having allowed me to see that movie in the first place. But the damage had been done so we continued to watch it until we really did wear the VHS out.
The other scene from that movie that stuck with me as a kid is in the very beginning, when the stunning Julia Roberts (that smile!) convinces Richard Gere's stuffy character to chill out by vegging, and she laughs hysterically at an old re-run of I Love Lucy when Lucy and Ethel stomp grapes to make wine. (I'm calling myself out on being really young here that my exposition on grape stomping involves a second-hand experience of seeing the iconic Lucy scene.) I've wanted to stomp grapes every since, and what girl that grew up on Pretty Woman in the 90s didn't?
I got my chance this weekend at the Clifton Day Festival in Clifton, Virginia. It's my favorite small-town in America. I challenge anyone to find me a town quainter and cuter and more perfectly old-fashioned small-town than Clifton. It's one of my favorite places to get away to for an afternoon, which is perfect since Paradise Springs Winery - the closest winery to DC - is just a short drive away. Paradise Springs offered wine tasting and grape stomping at the festival so Sonia, Zan, and I pulled ourselves into the drizzly, gray weather and on traffic-laden Route 66 last Sunday afternoon.
The festival was great and much bigger than I expected. Zan and I bought several incredible smelling candles from Wikiwood Naturals, a company based out of Virginia, and I can't get enough of my "Gingerbread Dreams" scent. We found a perfect handmade Christmas gift for Zan's 2-going-on-3-year-old goddaughter. And we coveted handcrafted wine racks and shelves in oak and cherry. Of course, we splurged on festival fair like beignets and an ice cream sandwich. And then, the grape stomping!
It was chilly and wet out, but the three of us were still surprised that there was nobody waiting to stomp grapes when we chatted with the guys running the Paradise Springs booth. Sonia and I volunteered to lead the charge, took off our boots and socks, rolled up our jeans, and jumped in. It is a bizarre sensation - cold, gooey, squishy naturally, and it oozes between your toes. It's kind of like squishing mud, but you can feel the skins of the grapes coming off.
After we stomped, the Winery staff told us a little bit about the advantages of stomping grapes rather than using machines (though treading grapes is rarely done today for sanitation reasons). Your feet can feel clumps easier than a machine can spot them. Feet also release the juice from the grapes more gradually and gently than machines. Grape stomping is traditionally used to make red wine.
Clifton Day and grape stomping was so much fun. I finally got to live out my Pretty Woman dreams! All that's left now is for
(I'm also crazy about red hair and know my salad fork from my dinner fork from Barney Thompson and I moved to LA after college because, "What's your dream?!" really hit home, and sometimes before a fancy date with Zander, I say, "In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really great time tonight." Oh, and of course, "Rodeo Drive, baby!" Pretty Woman has been influential in my life, as you can see.)
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