Victoria James: Sniff, Spit, Spill.
An Interview on How Wine Alchemizes Flavor & Memory, Brings People Together, & Proves We Carry Lifetimes on Our Tongues.
I discovered Victoria James through Cherry Bombe. I love what she stands for and the path she’s macheteing in a male-dominated industry. I just had to ask her some questions here on Art Basil.
Victoria is an international bestselling author, a James Beard nominee, the director of Beverage, and a Partner at Michelin-starred COTE, and the co-founder of WINE EMPOWERED: A non-profit organization that offers free wine classes to women and BIPOC individuals to help diversify the hospitality industry. Victoria has worked in restaurants since she was thirteen, and at twenty-one became the youngest sommelier in the country.
She’s the author of DRINK PINK, A Celebration of Rosé, and WINE GIRL a memoir. She’s an avid activist in support of pregnant women and nursing mothers working in the restaurant, beverage, and hospitality industries, as well as an outspoken advocate against sexual harassment in these fields. She writes for Forbes, The Daily Beast, Esquire, Cosmopolitan, and Bon Appétit.
What was the spark moment that drew you to wine?
I grew up slinging pancakes at a greasy-spoon diner under the railroad tracks in New Jersey.
When I moved to New York for college, I picked up bartending shifts to pay the bills and found a dusty old copy of Wine for Dummies behind the register. I’d always thought wine was just alcohol. Suddenly, it was history, geography, myth. As a geek and story lover, I fell in love with how wine could alchemize everything I cared about—flavor, memory, and the way it brings people together like almost nothing else.
A bottle that broke your heart open?
When I was 21, we sold a bottle of 1947 Cheval Blanc to a famous guest. The team lost their minds—it was the Mona Lisa of wine, $45,000 for a single bottle, and we got to taste it! But the truth? It fell flat. That night, I trudged home to my six-floor walk-up on St. Mark’s Place and split a $15 Beaujolais with my boyfriend. And that bottle sang. It taught me that hype means nothing without the right context, the right people, the right place.
Best wine to bring to a dinner party that isn’t too show-offy?
Madeira. It’s kind of a baller thing. What kind of psycho brings dessert wine to a party!? This chick! The cool thing, too, is that it is quite thoughtful; it doesn’t go bad once opened, so your host can sip it that night, then again next week, next month, next year. And if you really want to win the room, find a vintage tied to something personal—an anniversary, a birth year.
The wine you’d give someone who says, “I don’t like wine.”
Txakoli. It’s wine in sneakers—sprightly, salty, fizzy. The rosé version is especially fun—we pour it at COTE and COQODAQ, often from magnums, which is basically Basque joy incarnate. And if all else fails, skip the glass and pour it straight into your mouth from a porron.
Death row: One glass and one plate—what’s on the table?
White Burgundy and roast chicken. I want something luxurious but also homey at the same time. When my sister and I first lived in New York, I was becoming a sommelier, and she was a student. We’d roast a chicken on Sundays, open a bottle, and talk late into the night. If I were dying, I’d want to remember those nights.
Do you think I’d have to ask a man in hospitality how he balances career and fatherhood?
Not unless you were writing satire. Men are asked about their “vision,” women are asked about their babysitters.
Have you encountered industry resistance when trying to balance work and motherhood?
Motherhood disrupts the myth of endless, self-sacrificial availability that restaurants worship. I had to teach myself that boundaries weren’t betrayal—they were crucial and made me better at my job and as a mom. When I’m with my girls, I’m with them. When I’m at work, I’m all in. Motherhood gave me laser focus, fire-hose efficiency, and a rock-solid moral compass. My daughters made me sharper at everything—though I do wish they also came with more sleep.
Is the growing acceptance of motherhood in hospitality a fundamental cultural shift, or performative?
It’s both. Real change is stirring, but let’s be honest—it only started because women got loud, candid, and, yes, a little scary. We spoke out in the New York Times. We built Wine Empowered. We spread the word. So we just have to keep doing that. My sister told me before I had my first daughter, “Make a restaurant for our daughters.” That’s the charge—to keep pushing until this industry truly belongs to the next generation.
Wine, baby bottles, restaurant chaos—what keeps you grounded?
The basics. Getting down on the floor with my kids. Rallying our staff before a long service. Remembering that wine isn’t about a tasting note, it’s about the people sharing the table with you.
You’ve accomplished so much. What are you working toward?
To leave this industry in a better state than I found it. To build restaurants where both guests and staff feel cared for, not consumed. And to keep telling stories that remind us: hospitality is about human connection, not just shiny awards—though those are nice too.
What’s on your Amaro mood board?
Well, COTE FERNET’s of course ;)
What does “taste memory” mean to you?
It’s not flavor, it’s feeling. A glass of Sancerre might bring back the first person you kissed and actually loved. Domaine Tempier makes me smile and cry at once—it reminds me of Lulu, its matriarch, who embodied joy until 102. Even outside wine, scent and taste transport us instantly. Leather in a glass can hurl me back to oiling my softball glove as a kid before a game I knew I’d lose but wanted to play anyway. Taste memory is proof that we carry entire lifetimes on our tongues.
Something from Wine Girl people don’t bring up—but you wish they would?
That, beyond the trauma, it’s a love letter. Messy, funny, tragic, yes—but also joyful. People cling to the darkness, but I wish more people would notice the absurdity and resilience, too. Even in chaos, there’s laughter, friendship, and sometimes a little bottle of wine you love so much.
