About Anjali
Some people buy wine for the label. I hope you're here for the dirt. The vines know me now—I've got calluses in places that didn't have names, and I can tell you which row drinks better than the last. Come walk the pitch with me, smell the ferment, and sit on the porch where my grandfather used to whistle off key. I'll pour you something honest and maybe a little stubborn, just like this place. You're not a customer here. You're a friend I haven't dried your glasses for yet.
— Anjali
Filed under Country · Comfort · Romance