Last week’s Wine Economist reported on an unexpected development in our local wine scene. Against all odds, interest in wine seems to be growing in our part of Tacoma, Washington. A number of new businesses have opened recently raising wine’s profile in the neighborhood. What’s going on?
We surveyed the situation last week and promised you a deeper dive. Here it is.
Metropolitan Market
Our story begins in 1990 when the Metropolitan Market opened on Proctor Street on a site that had been home to a variety of supermarkets over the years. It always had a wine aisle, but as the Met upped its game (and as supermarkets evolved in the U.S.), the wine wall changed with it. Here’s what I wrote about it in Chapter 3 of Wine Wars II.
The Metropolitan Market on Proctor Street in Tacoma, Washington, is a typical upscale American supermarket. It has all the upscale basics: a delicatessen and a fishmonger, fresh seasonal local produce, a coffee bar and gelato stand. You can buy cat food, corn flakes, and laundry soap at competitive prices. There is sushi, too, along with various panini, and espresso drinks that pair nicely with a proprietary chocolate chip snack called The Cookie. Or, for $6.99, you can take home a quarter of a 1.9 kilogram loaf of Polâine whole grain sourdough bread, flown in fresh from Paris every Wednesday. Eat it plain – it is delicious – or top with European butter and a swish of raw monofloral Manuka honey from New Zealand. You can find them all on the Met’s generous shelves.
The Metropolitan Market is the kind of store that is increasingly common in American cities, patronized by people like me, who take their culinary cues from celebrity chefs on the Food Network. It is to foodies what Home Depot is to the DIY set: an adult toy store where imaginations can run wild.
You probably have a store like the Met in your town and, since you are reading this book, you probably go there frequently so that you can check out the wine wall. I’d like you to go there now (or if that’s not convenient, to imagine that you are there) because this chapter requires your participation. I don’t really want to tell you what the wine world looks like, although that’s easy enough to do. I want you to see for yourself—and to be surprised.
I’m sending you to the supermarket because that’s where the battle for the future of wine is being waged. It isn’t the only battlefield; the idea of wine is contested wherever and whenever wine is bought and sold. Restaurants and bars. Wine shops and auction floors. Tasting rooms and cellar doors. Shoot, I’ve even bought wine in the middle of the night, directly from the maker, from the back of a pickup truck on a dark city street. (Don’t ask.)
But the supermarket is the central stage of this story and that’s where we need to begin. And to understand what’s going on there we will need to inspect it closely, looking for the key to its secret code.
Upscale supermarkets like the Met are about many things: service, selection, and maybe even opulence (The Met’s Cookie is certainly opulent). Significantly, they are also about identity, and wine fills an important niche, reinforcing and differentiating their identities and linking them to the lifestyles, both actual and aspirational, of their customers.
Maybe the most important thing about the Met over the years has been the people who make it happen. Patrick (aka “the wine guy”) was, until his semi-retirement, a key element of the local wine culture. He was particularly important to us at The Wine Economist because of his knowledge of the wine business and trends. The Met helped raise the profile of wine in the neighborhood and establish it as part of the local culture.
Browne Family Vineyards Tasting Room
Precept Wine was rated as the 12th largest U.S. wine company by Wine Business Monthly earlier this year with an estimated 2.75 million cases sold per year. The company produces wine under many brands, but the current focus is on Browne Family Vineyards, Gruet, and House Wine according to the WBM report.
CEO Andrew Browne reports that his team was drawn to Tacoma and the Proctor District when they were planning tasting room locations. The Proctor Safeway and the Metropolitan Market had very strong wine programs and the neighborhood was both growing and developing a distinctive vibe. “We always viewed being near great retailers and bringing the ‘storytelling / nice setting / friendly people’ quality approach would lift all boats—a rising tide,” Browne says. “That is exactly the result we have seen in Tacoma.”
“When we opened in 2020, ‘jumpstarting’ the wine scene wasn’t on our radar,” comments Precept chief marketing officer Alexandra Evans. “Our goal was simpler: create a NYC-quality experience right in our backyard. Andrew had just moved to Tacoma—a place dear to many of our hearts—and we wanted to build a gathering spot where people could enjoy great local wine and feel at home. A place that genuinely brought value to our home community. Seeing the momentum build with more tasting rooms, wine bars, and shops has been thrilling.”
Like the Met Market, Browne Family Vineyards is all about investing in people, both the tasting room staff and the neighborhood. As Browne notes, “We believed in Tacoma’s potential—the food culture, the highly engaged community thirsty for quality experience, it was a safe bet. What our tasting room proved is that you don’t need to be in wine country to build wine culture. You just need to show up authentically and honor people’s choice to spend their hard-earned time and money with you. We feel deeply responsible for delivering on that promise!”
Sue and I like to meet friends and colleagues at Browne Family Vineyards. There is a feeling that is both comfortable and sophisticated. The wine flights are great conversation starters. And I like the fact that in Tacoma, the “City of Destiny,” you can order wine from a collection that proclaims “Do Epic Sh*t!” An inspiration. And an important step in the evolution of the neighborhood wine scene.
Corbeau Restaurant
Corbeau
opened in the Proctor District a little more than a year ago and caught our attention by positioning itself as a “Franco-Tacoman” restaurant, which translates to French cuisine and sensibility with local Tacoma-area ingredients. We intended to give it a try, but somehow something always came up. That changed recently when we looked at their wine program.
Corbeau is the creation of Tacoma native Trevor Hamilton, whose restaurant wine resume includes spells at Canlis in Seattle and The Table in Tacoma, and executive chef Craig Tronset, whose experiences include Bastille in Seattle and The Table in Tacoma.
Corbeau took over a spot that was the long-time home of an Italian-American restaurant and I suppose it has taken a while for people like us to find out what’s going on. What we’ve discovered in recent visits is a warm environment with friendly staff, excellent service, and food that is both distinctive and delicious. You can sense the personal touch at every turn.
On the beverage side, Corbeau is about wine but not just wine. The cocktail and mocktail menus are interesting and many of the tables we’ve seen have brightly colored drinks on display. But, of course, it was the wine that drew us in. The wine list is long but not encyclopedic, about 70 percent French, and includes a special list of bottles priced at less than $60. So it is serious about wine.

But Corbeau is also playful about wine and inviting. This becomes clear when you consider the by-the-glass page of the wine list. There are more than a dozen choices and they are presented in an unusual way (see above). The coded wine references are arrayed along two axes: delicate to powerful and natty to nice.
Natty? Well, low intervention (natural wine depending upon how you define that). The idea is a play on the Santa Claus “naughty and nice” idea. What this does, according to wine director Mason Pack, is start a conversation about what you are interested in trying and the many different faces that wine can present. It’s a different way to think about wine. What fun.
Our first visit (with friends Zari and Greg) focused on Natty and Nice wines paired with happy hour burgers, fries, and salad. But we soon returned, drawn by the arrival of a bottle of Pignolo, a red wine from Friuli that is so rare that it is almost invisible.
Anatomy of a Renaissance
So how does a wine renaissance happen in a world where news reports constantly reinforce the wine industry’s struggles? I can’t answer that question in general terms but I have a couple of ideas based on wine businesses covered last week and above in these Wine Economist columns.
The first observation is simple. It’s not about the wine. It’s about the people. Growing a wine culture or any culture has to start with people and their dreams and visions.
The second thing is that a renaissance doesn’t happen all at once. Change happens gradually and then suddenly as momentum builds. You can’t always be sure that a first step will be followed by others, but it is terrific when it works.
The thing that these businesses (and the others we wrote about last week) have in common is that they are different. Different from other businesses in some ways and different from each other. Wine isn’t a single thing. It is many things. This means that there are many ways for wine to connect to the community.
Our little neighborhood has developed a vibrant wine scene. Can it sustain its identity and maybe even continue to grow in the current unfavorable environment? Fingers crossed that wine’s light will grow brighter in the coming year.
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Thanks to everyone we talked to about the Proctor wine scene. We couldn’t really do justice to what’s happening in a short column like this, but we tried.