In January 2024, while attending the Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux tasting in San Francisco, my husband snapped a photo of me. Then he said, "You're not going to believe who's standing behind you."

When he showed me the photo, there over my shoulder was Karen MacNeil—one of my biggest wine industry heroes. She was my introduction to the world of wine when I stumbled into the industry by chance in the summer of 2007 with zero wine knowledge. Seeing her in person brought back a flood of memories, including the copy of The Wine Bible my mentor gave me so I could learn that Cava was not just an herbal supplement to help you sleep. True story: when I was pouring wine in the tasting room in my early days, a customer asked me about Cava, and that's honestly what I thought it was.

When I started out, I didn't know what made a Zinfandel a Zinfandel—was it a brand, a style, a place? As it turned out, I had an unusual talent that a winemaker recognized right away: strong sensory perception and the ability to put it into words. After that initial connection, I volunteered for a harvest. During this time, he discovered I also had a natural mechanical ability and small hands that could get into tight spaces to fix the winery's moody Italian labeler and corker. My basic plumbing knowledge and uplifting sense of humor rounded out the soft skills that made me promising apprentice material. But I needed a quick tutorial on wine.

And along came the Wine Bible to provide me with a whirlwind education. Karen's writing is blissfully free from pomp and pedantry, which was de rigueur at the time of my maiden voyage in wine. It makes sense he would give me a copy, as it mirrored his no-nonsense approach of: "Hey kid, come over here and let me show you how all this works." She writes with such clarity and intent that it's evident she sincerely wants you to understand wine, winemaking, and wine appreciation. For someone without a formal background, that sincerity was everything.

Industry posturing can certainly be intimidating and off-putting for newcomers. Before I had both book and mentor, I walked into a Rutherford tasting room for a wine tasting. I figured that since the winery shared the same last name as my French grandmother, maybe it would resonate with me. When I walked up to the bar to say hello, the Merlot caught my eye. I asked, "What's Merlot?" It made me think of a blackbird, and I like birds, so I was genuinely curious and genuinely clueless.

The host looked at me like I was insane. I was not offered even a shred of hospitality, and I left feeling like wine simply wasn't for me. In hindsight, it was the best experience I could have hoped for. It helped me recognize what actually matters in wine as in life, which I came to know through my mentor's instruction and Karen's writing: humility, kindness, and a desire to be a good ambassador for the industry.

During my nine years of working in and managing grocery store wine aisles, which I genuinely enjoyed (minus breaking down pallets of freight), Karen's book lived in my storeroom for reference, because I learned how to make wine before I learned all the various permutations of wine itself. One of my favorite customers was a retired lawyer with expansive wine knowledge. Like all my regulars, I took care to understand his palate and taste with him in mind. He'd come in, ask me all kinds of questions, and chat while I worked the morning's load.

He had a habit of asking about obscure wines and varieties, and he knew I had the Wine Bible in the back. If I didn't have an answer, I'd offer to look it up. After that Rutherford experience, there was no version of not knowing that could embarrass me. I was fearless. Faking it was never an option.

Most of the time I'd use my iPhone for speed, but he preferred books. So he'd leave me with assignments: look it up, and we'll talk next time. I admired that he was trying to expand my horizons, and I am grateful for all the bright spots that lighted my way.

But that one January at UGC: there she was.

One of my fears is meeting someone I admire, like, say, Tom Waits. What happens if I meet Tom and he's having a terrible day and is a complete jerk? We are all human, but how will that fleeting moment in time affect my decades of enjoyment of his music? The same logic applied to Karen MacNeil.

She had two assistants standing nearby. I figured the safe move was to tell them how much her work meant to me and ask them to please pass the message along. One of them smiled and said Karen would love to hear that herself, then encouraged me to go talk to her.

Before I knew it, Karen walked over to say hello.

What followed was a stream of gratitude—I don't even remember what I said. My brain went offline and my heart did all the talking. When I finally stopped talking, she gave me a warm smile and asked, "Can I hug you?" I said, "Absolutely!" She hugged me and said that stories like mine help keep her inspired.

Touched by her kindness and elated that she was wonderful in person, I asked, "Can I give you a hug? One for the road?" Two hugs later, I could barely concentrate on the rest of the day. It felt like a full-circle moment, a single brushstroke of a vinous ensō that encapsulated my perfectly imperfect journey in wine.

I had been meaning to write about that encounter ever since. It took more than two years, mostly because I knew I could never do the moment justice. But my colleagues recently reminded me that it's Women's History Month, and my thoughts naturally drifted back to that day.

It seemed like the right time to stop overthinking and simply say thank you to a woman who helped blaze my trail. From a know-nothing beginner to a winemaking apprentice, then technical editor at Wines & Vines magazine, grocery store wine and liquor manager, and now a wine storyteller and editor at K&L Wine Merchants, her influence has been with me every step of the way. And, as it turns out, she is every bit as generous, elegant, and empathic in person as she is on the page.

In celebration of Women's History Month, here are a few selections from remarkable women winemakers whose current or past vintages I've enjoyed:

2023 Antech "Cuvée Eugenie" Extra Brut Crémant de Limoux $16.99 94JD

2023 Domaine de la Ganse Vacqueyras (Previously $20) $13.99

2022 Carol Shelton "Wild Thing" Mendocino Old Vine Zinfandel $17.95 92WS

2023 Berta Valgañón "Selección Maturana Tinta" Rioja $29.99 93TA

2024 Filipa Pato "Post Quercus" Baga Bairrada $39.99 94JS

2021 Corison Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon $124.99 97DC 96WE 95WS 94JS 94TWI 93JD 93VN

- Kerry Kennell, K&L Editor & Wine Storyteller