Each guest winemaker paired their wine with a course of the menu, and had the chance to share its story at the table while pouring. We got to not only enjoy great wine and food, but the chance to sit down and share a thoughtful meal with the people who grew the grapes, walked the vineyards, and meticulously checked the ferment to make each beautiful, place-based vintage.

At the end of a dirt road, down a winding path, past a burbling stone fountain, in a clearing bordered by draping oaks, we gathered outside of The Wildflower Barn in the heart of Texas Hill Country. We felt like we had discovered a secret garden, and set the table among the bright blooms of springtime wildflowers.

A collage of story and influence emerged throughout the evening to create a beautiful moment in time, with details added by the unique stories supplied by every individual at the table. The collection grew into something far more than the sum of its parts, something that could never be recreated, which only enhanced the beauty of the experience for those who were there to become a part of it.

By the evening’s end, the white barn glowed with reflected light off the windows, the world now dark outside. The room filled with clinking glasses and good conversation. That moment, the meal shared, was one worth experiencing with all five senses, worth far more than just the pretty sight it created.

The days are short and dark, and the snow and cold stubbornly remain. It can be a difficult, in-between time. That’s part of why we believe it’s one of the best times to gather — warm up together, beat the winter chill with a hearty meal, and find the beauty of the season in the twinkle of a good friend’s eye over a final glass at the end of the night, the bright burst of winter citrus that sneaks some sunshine into the dark days.

The barn warmed with good company as the night turned dark around us, many people lingering in the golden light of the glossy wooden room long after the meal ended. Eventually, we all had to bundle up, snuff out the grills’ glowing embers, and make our way into the winter’s eve, warmed through from the inside out. It was just the kind of evening that fortifies us until the soft spring sunshine arrives.

The evening felt a bit like an after-hours social, blending the vibes of a speakeasy with the French-colonial aesthetic of the city, the flavors of a South American holiday meal, the classic winemaking traditions of Cognac, and the New World terroir of the Russian River Valley — the whole experience an exciting, indefinable blend of cultural celebration fitting for the ineffable, exuberant spirit of New Orleans itself.

Unfortunately, some excitable fire ants changed our plans mid-morning, sending us away from the tree line and onto main ceremony lawn for Supper. By the end of the night, we were thanking those fire ants for correcting us! Our fountain-side table offered a perfect view of a fiery fall sunset — something worth moving the table many times over.

By the time the sky darkened and dessert was served, the table was ringing with cheers and applause for an evening well-spent, the talented chef who brought everyone together for an unforgettable meal, and the artistry of the functional vessels in which it was served.