D
Desert Grapes
by Jeremy Gonzalez
o the finer things exist in the
desert? If you’re not from these
parts don’t let a cactus or a
tumbleweed convince you that Fort
Stockton is desolate and deprived of
luxury. Nestled on the corner of E.
Callaghan Street sits a simple gray
building that doesn’t draw much atten-
tion to itself from the outside. What
sets this place apart is not the outward
visual, but the ambiance and comfort
of the wine tasting room hidden with-
in. It is the wine tasting room of the
Ste. Genevieve vineyard, located right
10
Cenizo
here in Fort Stockton.
It was a cloudy Sunday afternoon
when I walked into the Grey Mule
Saloon with my wife and discovered
the most refined spot that Fort
Stockton has to offer. I knew that this
building was an aged historic land-
mark, so I expected the interior to be
worn and antique. My eyes were
impressed when we walked through
the door and such great design was
unveiled. The light, colors and textures
all harmonized with the environment
and presented us with the ideal space
Second Quarter 2014
for mingling and sipping wine. The
different rooms and lounges each had
a crisp feeling that tempted me to sit
down and relax. We stepped out onto
the back patio which featured smooth
stone surfaces, excellent seating and a
steel silhouette of a Grey Mule wel-
coming his guests outside
Details dazzle, but a group of wine
bottles ice-bathing in a metal tub whis-
pered, “It’s time to drink some fruit of
the vine!” as they glowed beside a sun-
lit window. Our friendly host Sue
arranged an exquisite variety of wines
The Ste. Genevieve
wine tasting room at the
Gray Mule Saloon offers
a sophisticated taste
of West Texas.
Photo: Jeremy Gonzalez
for me to taste and a wooden bowl of
crackers to cleanse my palette. I had to
refrain from saying “Ooh la la,” so
instead I just looked over at my wife
with a big smile on my face to imply
that I felt fancy. Sue poured me a glass
of red wine to start. I closed my eyes
and took the first sip. “Foaming wine
made from the blood of the grape.”
The passage from Deuteronomy
crossed my mind as I tasted the deep
purplish-red Pinot Noir. “I love the
word choice Moses made, the blood of
the grape,” I thought to myself as I