When it comes to food, it has become de rigueur to be a so-called locavore. The notion of a locavore is someone who gathers or eats food from within a nebulously defined distance — for argument sake let’s say one hundred miles — from where said foodstuffs are being consumed. But when it comes to wine, thinking locally, for some strange reason, doesn’t seem to be a concern. The new paradigm is reserved for the indigenous domain of the food world. Now if you’re in a restaurant in most any appellation from Spain to France to Italy, you will encounter plenty of local wine. One will never find wines from Burgundy, for instance, while in Bordeaux. But in California? Fergetit. Here, in the San Francisco Bay Area, we are oh-so-cosmopolitan that our wine lists are filthy with bottles from Southern Italy, Northern Spain, Greece, Croatia, and Timbuktu.








