Crossed the Swiss border into France at Grinwald. When I peered at the border guard for directions, or some kind of sign, like, ‘hey, dude, you’re in France,’ he turned away, more like, ‘dude, don’t bug me.’

Yup, we were in France, alright.

With LB riding shot-gun, navigating us up through the incredible slopes, our black Passat crammed with five of us, plus luggage, we went whizzing past thousands upon thousands of acres of vineyards, on steep slopes facing -it appeared- due east (may have been a bit of a southern cut), trying not to take my eye off the road, but could not believe all the vines. We got off the autostrasse onto Hwy. 21 heading for Evian-les-Bains. You guessed it, that’s where Evian (water) comes from.

But I wasn’t interested in water, I wanted to know what wine was being grown on those slopes.

That night at dinner, a funky outdoor restaurant (after Champagne), I asked our waiter what the local wine was. He brought us out a bottle of Apremont, a bright, refreshing white wine. Had to be from those vines lining the road.

Very tasty, and fantastic with my duck salad.

And as far as I was concerned, that was that. A nice obscure local wine, never see it again. Wrong-o!

Back in the states, the first wine tasting I went to at Mt. Tabor Fine Wines, I was leaning on a shelf, and looked down to see Pierre Boniface, 2007 Vin de Savoie Apremont, $13. No way!

Obviously snatched it up, and well, you know how sometimes you have a wine at some little Tuscan roadside cafe overlooking a vineyard, with a plate of proscuitto and cantelope, and you think, my god, that’s the best wine I’ve ever had, so you buy a couple bottles, get it home, and it tastes like crap? It’s called the ambiance fallacy.

So did I fall into the same trap? No, in fact Apremont remains one of my favorite white wines. Made from the Jacquere grape, its bright, lemony, crisp, refreshing, with all sorts of nice floral notes. And it’s an excellent seafood wine.

It’s readily available in the Portland market, but up in my neck of the woods, Clark County, it’s not. So if you happen to be down across the border (at Grinwald, for instance), look it up.