Sand-Reckoner’s wines are made from grapes grown on the Willcox Bench, a couple of hours southeast of Tucson.

Arizona’s desert-born wine scene is starting to heat up, like a summer day just before dawn. In Tucson, Sand-Reckoner Vineyards is, at the moment, the only local wine label with a downtown tasting room. Here, curious wine drinkers can stretch their assumptions about the saguaro-speckled Sonoran Desert’s fruitful offerings. The first is challenging the notion that the desert produces wine at all.

“The soil is very good,” Sarah Fox says. She owns Sand-Reckoner with winemaker Rob Hammelman. Fox is referring to the dirt in the ringed-by-mountains Willcox wine region located about an hour and a half southeast of Tucson. Its earthy terroir comes from a Chex Mix of sand, clay, and minerals. Burrow three feet further down, and you hit limestone. In other words, it’s a classic wine soil profile, similar to France’s famed Burgundy region.

This part of the desert also touts an elevation of at least 4,000 feet and seasonal monsoon weather flowing up from the Gulf of Mexico. The elemental combination prevents grapes from shriveling into raisins during scorching summers. During monsoon season, producers have to play lifeguard, lest the fruit drown. And some growers have learned to cultivate varieties that play nice with a little extra hydration. “Sangiovese is very well-behaved in the vineyard,” Fox says. So are syrah and tempranillo.

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When it comes to wine making, Sand-Reckoner has transitioned to a mostly low-intervention approach. That means opting for organic sprays, eschewing herbicides, and using naturally occurring yeast—a critical ingredient that turns sugar into alcohol. In the glass, Sand-Reckoner wines are an elegant ballroom dance. Its malvasia bianco bursts with lychee. Its grenache rosé is more understated than other punchy or candied strawberry-watermelon bottles. Its sangiovese includes grapes from Sand-Reckoner’s own vineyard and hints at bright cherry and earth.

Well-known grapes like cabernet sauvignon and chardonnay grow well in most areas, but Fox says exploring “outside of the norm” grapes in Arizona’s unique terroir is more exciting. By fall 2023, Fox and Hammelman hope to move into a larger space within the downtown Warehouse Arts District, where their current tasting room is situated, to include room for bottling, cellaring, and tasting. “It takes a certain amount of grit to forge forward in an area that’s not known yet for grape growing,” Fox says.

What used to be a newspaper building is now Tucson’s Citizen Hotel, which boasts wine-soaked amenities like a bottle fridge in every room.

Courtesy of The Citizen Hotel

Where to Stay

Keep the wine theme going at The Citizen Hotel. What was once Tucson’s first newspaper press building was reimagined in 2022 with muted pastels and light wood, stone, and bronze accents that mimic the desert landscape. Vino-centric amenities include wine fridges in each of its 10 high-ceilinged rooms. In the world of shrinking hotel perks, an in-room French press coffee kit, a soaking tub, and bathrobes feel luxurious.

A minimalistic lobby bar offers red, white, and fortified wines made by regional producers from Arizona and Mexico and occasional complimentary wine tastings. Around town, find more local wine at bottle shops and specialty markets like nearby Pearly Baker Fermentables and Time Market.

South Africa

South Africa is not just about safaris and shark diving; they also produce incredible wines, especially in the Stellenbosch and Paarl wine regions, positioned along the beautiful Cape Town coastline. South African vineyards most often grow chenin blanc, a versatile white grape that produces as a dry, sweet, or sparkling wine, and pinotage, South Africa’s signature red varietal. Try a sparkling wine from Graham Beck or a pinotage from Kanonkop or L’Avenir Provenance—you’ll almost be able to smell the salty coastal air with each sip.

Portugal

Portugal’s Douro Valley is famous for its breathtaking terraced vineyards framing the Douro River, making for some of the most stunning and memorable views in the world. The Douro is best known for producing port, a sweet fortified wine (meaning it’s a blend of wine and brandy). In recent years, the Douro’s red wines, most often produced using Portugal’s flagship red grape, Touriga Nacional, have also gained popularity. Some fantastic port producers include Quinta de la Rosa and Ramos Pinto, and my favorite dry reds are the budget-friendly Silk and Spice red blend and Touriga Nacional from the famous Quinta do Noval.

Portugal’s Douro Valley

Maksym Kaharlytskyi / Unsplash

Chile

Chile’s wine country is situated between the Pacific Ocean and the Andes Mountains, making for a photo-worthy vineyard backdrop. Chilean wine really made its mark when French winemakers relocated to Chile and imparted their techniques in the local vineyards. Chile is now best known for Bordeaux varietals, including cabernet sauvignon, merlot, and carménère. Look out for the Escudo Rojo Bordeaux-style blend, and try Vina Vik’s La Piu Belle red blend and rosé, or their flagship Vik Bordeaux-style blend!

The Greek Islands

The Greek islands are known for postcard views, white-sand beaches, and winemaking that dates back thousands of years. Greece is home to many native grapes that aren’t found anywhere else in the world, including assyrtiko, agiorgitiko, and malagousia. Look out for always-refreshing, acidic, citrus-edged assyrtikos from Santo Wines and Domaine Sigalas, produced in the volcanic soils of Santorini. Cabernet lovers should check out agiorgitiko produced by Gaia for a velvety and delicious red.

Shop for international finds locally at Vino Carta in Little Italy, The 3rd Corner Wine Shop and Bistro in Ocean Beach and Encinitas, Bird Rock Fine Wine in La Jolla, and San Diego Wine and Beer Co. in Miramar.

Nia Gordon is a psychologist by day, and spends her free time writing about wine—but most often just sipping it. Her blog is themoreyoubordeaux.com. @themoreyoubordeaux

Terraced vineyards in Portugal’s Douro Valley

Maksym Kaharlytskyi / Unsplash

There’s never been a better time to explore our next-door neighbor. It’s now a breeze to hop on a flight out of Tijuana airport, and Mexican airlines have launched many new nonstops, making much of the country more accessible than ever to San Diegans. That’s why we went beyond Baja to cover the country from coast to coast. It’s not a comprehensive guide, but a good jumping-off point to experience the magical parts of the country. Through these pages, take a quick tour of Mexico starting at the jungles and shores on its Caribbean side, then work your way west back home. ¡Vámonos!

Choose Your Destination:

Cancún || Oaxaca City || San Miguel de Allende

Mexico City || Guadalajara || Mazatlán || Puerto Vallarta

Los Cabos || Loreto || Ensenada || Rosarito || Valle de Guadalupe || Tijuana

Yucatán Peninsula

Cancun

There’s more to this Caribbean paradise than clubs filled with spring breakers—if you know where to stay.

Guide to Mexico – Cancún

Why I Went

“Just play it cool, Letchworth,” my wife says as we exit our airport shuttle. “You belong here as much as anyone else.” I immediately fail this test when a bellhop asks if he can take my heavy suitcase, and on instinct I say, “Oh, no thanks! I can manage.” To his credit, he nods and waits until I’m distracted—by the two glasses of Champagne at check-in—to whisk it off anyway. We’re not at the Interstate Frontage Road Super 8 anymore, Toto.

This is just the first taste of a consistent standard of luxurious attendance at Grand Fiesta Americana Coral Beach (rooms from $347). Kohleun and I pride ourselves on being seasoned travelers, but as our 20s waned, so did our capacity for sleeping on the floor of the Amtrak observation car. On our first trip as a couple, it took only one night sharing a hostel room with six backpackers to realize we could afford to raise our standards a little.

And yet, stepping into our king-size suite, which could hold both my old studio apartments and opens onto a perfect Caribbean horizon, I’m still out of my depth. We’ve gotten the resort’s new premium package, “Ú,” whose amenities are so numerous we keep stumbling across their brochures like a scavenger hunt.

“Complimentary 30-minute WaveRunner ride for two?” I boggle.

“Unlimited access to the Gem Spa!” Kohleun prioritizes.

And just as I tear into the minibar’s unlimited supply of peanut-butter crackers, she waves the room service menu at me and says, “Let’s think bigger.”

It’s easy to imagine how differently this trip might’ve gone back when we were living on barista and adjunct-professor money and still had iron livers. We passed by that scene on our way in: the all-night Señor Frog and Friends party district. Since the drinking age in Mexico is 18, Cancún’s Hotel Zone is notorious for attracting American coeds looking for a spring break they’ll never remember.

But we’re here to give Cancún a second look, from the perspective of someone who can appreciate finer things at a more deliberate pace. And the Grand Fiesta Americana doesn’t disappoint: Its philosophy of service is to anticipate their guests’ every need.

Overhearing us mention wanting to go into town, a lobby rep offers a primer on local public transit. At Le Basilic restaurant, the servers not only place our napkins in our lap but replace them whenever we leave the table. In the “Grand Club” VIP beach section, an attendant bounds up with fresh towels whenever we emerge from the sea. There’s even somebody waiting by the back doors to wash the sand from our feet. Middle-class guilt flaring, it’s all we can do to make it rain with tips.

They must be on top of Quintana Roo’s reported seaweed problem, too, as both the hotel’s private beach and the closest public one are equally pristine. I embark on the Gem Spa’s Ten-Step Hydrotherapy Program with an open mind (and a stomach full of carbs, which step one, The Steam Room, expressly warns against). Kohleun loves step three, The Clay Room. I’m skeptical of step six, The Ice Room (aka “rub a snowball on yourself”), but the uninterrupted device-free time to be present, the hourlong massage add-on, and the concluding nap under a warm blanket turn my biological clock back a year.

Granted, you don’t have to leave the country (or even the county) to vacation like royalty. So what does Cancún have for the over-30 crowd that you can’t see anywhere else? The Mayan cities of Chichen Itza and Tulum are 138 and 84 miles away, respectively, but since we can’t spare a day trip on our brief stay, we get our archaeology fix at the nearby Museo Maya and at El Rey, a village with surviving temple walls, lintels, and colonnades from the sixth century, now home to an iguana kingdom.

In eight short years, Baja’s gone from a virtual dead zone to one of the globe’s top food and drink destinations. With the world watching, how will innovators in Tijuana and Valle de Guadalupe handle growing crowds and attention—without selling their souls?

The Baja Moment

Misión 19’s trio of local ceviches over a bed of rusty nails and seaweed, a tribute to a local beach.

Misión 19’s trio of local ceviches over a bed of rusty nails and seaweed, a tribute to a local beach.

That smell has always saddened me. That’s Tijuana’s handshake to the world—a pungent spritz of sewage? The Tijuana River Basin runs under the San Ysidro border crossing, carrying a flotilla of discarded grossness. Most tourists like their travel destinations more redolent of spa eucalyptus. The smell is why some of them don’t come here.

“Tijuana’s not for everybody, and that’s okay,” says Derrik Chinn, an American journalist who’s lived there since 2007. Chinn owns Turista Libre!, leading gringos on cultural excursions through Tijuana. When he started, Mexican cabbies threw rocks at his bus. In September, the TJ newspaper hailed his contribution to the city.

“The city’s been a tourist trap since Prohibition,” he says. “The drug wars and border waits gave the city a much, much-needed chance to define itself for itself. The tourists weren’t coming. What if they never came back?”

Prohibition is why Tijuana became what it became. Hollywood A-listers came here to gamble at Caliente, watch bullfights on acid, escape America’s crushing sobriety. Preachers called it “Satan’s Playground.” By the ’80s, Avenida Revolucion was a prolific vice market made grotesque by the drastic socioeconomic divide between the sellers and the buyers. It was the place to get drunk, drugged, mugged, prostituted, marginalized, corrupted, blasphemed, kidnapped, and thrown in a moldy jail forever and ever.

Of course, that was always part of Tijuana’s allure—fear being the catalyst for pleasure that it is.

The Baja Moment

Chef Javier Plascencia

Chef Javier Plascencia

Then Nortec Collective happened. In 1999, this small army of Tijuana DJs, musicians, and artists became internationally famous. Art stole the spotlight back from the donkeys painted like zebras (zonkeys).

Then there was blood. In 2006, the Mexican government stopped partying with the cartels and started arresting them. With a power vacuum created, aspiring cartels fought in the streets over the lucrative crime market. American media peeked over the fence and inflamed the scene even more.

The Baja Moment

“Raining Machetes in Mexico!”

“How to Survive A Battery Acid Attack in TJ!”

Americans overreacted and wrote off the entire country. Like someone from Mexico City saying, “Sorry, niños. There’s murder in Chicago. No Disneyland this year.”

Now, the dust has settled and Baja is one of the most buzzed-about culinary destinations on the planet. Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Zimmern, and Rick Bayless are praising it on TV. The Wall Street Journal is taking it seriously enough to critique the region’s wines. This year’s esteemed S. Pellegrino list of Latin America’s Top 50 Best Restaurants included two in Baja. 

A couple years ago, star Tijuana chef Javier Plascencia told the New Yorker and the New York Times he wanted to see Baja become an international food destination one day. Just like San Francisco or Mexico City.

That day is now.

Tijuana’s most brilliant tourism initiative seems to have been ignoring tourists. By doing so, they created an exciting native culture that’s attracting a more sophisticated breed of visitor.

“People are open to seeing Tijuana less as a tourist, and more as a traveler,” Chinn suggests. “As a tourist, the city is adapting to you. As a traveler, you’re adapting to the city.”

This time, chefs were the Nortec Collective—cultural ambassadors luring foreigners back to Mexico. Famed chefs like Benito Molina (Manzanilla), Diego Hernandez (Corazon de Tierra), and Miguel Angel Guerrero (La Querencia) cooked at events in the U.S. Jair Téllez—often called the Thomas Keller of Baja—helped design the menu at former San Diego restaurant El Take It Easy. Top San Diego restaurants have added Baja Med dishes (grilled octopus, tiraditos, gourmet tostadas, etc.).

The Baja Moment

Baja California’s wealth of locally caught seafood and farmers market produce is helping spur a culinary renaissance.

Baja California’s wealth of locally caught seafood and farmers market produce is helping spur a culinary renaissance.

A lot of credit has deservedly gone to Plascencia. The chef was raised on both sides of the border. He’s bilingual. He looks like a Mexican George Clooney. Most importantly, he can really cook. He is the gateway.

In eight short years, Baja’s gone from a virtual dead zone to one of the globe’s top food and drink destinations. With the world watching, how will innovators in Tijuana and Valle de Guadalupe handle growing crowds and attention—without selling their souls?

The Baja Moment

Misión 19’s trio of local ceviches over a bed of rusty nails and seaweed, a tribute to a local beach.

Misión 19’s trio of local ceviches over a bed of rusty nails and seaweed, a tribute to a local beach.

That smell has always saddened me. That’s Tijuana’s handshake to the world—a pungent spritz of sewage? The Tijuana River Basin runs under the San Ysidro border crossing, carrying a flotilla of discarded grossness. Most tourists like their travel destinations more redolent of spa eucalyptus. The smell is why some of them don’t come here.

“Tijuana’s not for everybody, and that’s okay,” says Derrik Chinn, an American journalist who’s lived there since 2007. Chinn owns Turista Libre!, leading gringos on cultural excursions through Tijuana. When he started, Mexican cabbies threw rocks at his bus. In September, the TJ newspaper hailed his contribution to the city.

“The city’s been a tourist trap since Prohibition,” he says. “The drug wars and border waits gave the city a much, much-needed chance to define itself for itself. The tourists weren’t coming. What if they never came back?”

Prohibition is why Tijuana became what it became. Hollywood A-listers came here to gamble at Caliente, watch bullfights on acid, escape America’s crushing sobriety. Preachers called it “Satan’s Playground.” By the ’80s, Avenida Revolucion was a prolific vice market made grotesque by the drastic socioeconomic divide between the sellers and the buyers. It was the place to get drunk, drugged, mugged, prostituted, marginalized, corrupted, blasphemed, kidnapped, and thrown in a moldy jail forever and ever.

Of course, that was always part of Tijuana’s allure—fear being the catalyst for pleasure that it is.

The Baja Moment

Chef Javier Plascencia

Chef Javier Plascencia

Then Nortec Collective happened. In 1999, this small army of Tijuana DJs, musicians, and artists became internationally famous. Art stole the spotlight back from the donkeys painted like zebras (zonkeys).

Then there was blood. In 2006, the Mexican government stopped partying with the cartels and started arresting them. With a power vacuum created, aspiring cartels fought in the streets over the lucrative crime market. American media peeked over the fence and inflamed the scene even more.

The Baja Moment

“Raining Machetes in Mexico!”

“How to Survive A Battery Acid Attack in TJ!”

Americans overreacted and wrote off the entire country. Like someone from Mexico City saying, “Sorry, niños. There’s murder in Chicago. No Disneyland this year.”

Now, the dust has settled and Baja is one of the most buzzed-about culinary destinations on the planet. Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Zimmern, and Rick Bayless are praising it on TV. The Wall Street Journal is taking it seriously enough to critique the region’s wines. This year’s esteemed S. Pellegrino list of Latin America’s Top 50 Best Restaurants included two in Baja. 

A couple years ago, star Tijuana chef Javier Plascencia told the New Yorker and the New York Times he wanted to see Baja become an international food destination one day. Just like San Francisco or Mexico City.

That day is now.

Tijuana’s most brilliant tourism initiative seems to have been ignoring tourists. By doing so, they created an exciting native culture that’s attracting a more sophisticated breed of visitor.

“People are open to seeing Tijuana less as a tourist, and more as a traveler,” Chinn suggests. “As a tourist, the city is adapting to you. As a traveler, you’re adapting to the city.”

This time, chefs were the Nortec Collective—cultural ambassadors luring foreigners back to Mexico. Famed chefs like Benito Molina (Manzanilla), Diego Hernandez (Corazon de Tierra), and Miguel Angel Guerrero (La Querencia) cooked at events in the U.S. Jair Téllez—often called the Thomas Keller of Baja—helped design the menu at former San Diego restaurant El Take It Easy. Top San Diego restaurants have added Baja Med dishes (grilled octopus, tiraditos, gourmet tostadas, etc.).

The Baja Moment

Baja California’s wealth of locally caught seafood and farmers market produce is helping spur a culinary renaissance.

Baja California’s wealth of locally caught seafood and farmers market produce is helping spur a culinary renaissance.

A lot of credit has deservedly gone to Plascencia. The chef was raised on both sides of the border. He’s bilingual. He looks like a Mexican George Clooney. Most importantly, he can really cook. He is the gateway.