All posts by lexyfridell

Avid Bubble Enthusiast.

My First Mother’s Day: Some Thoughts, with Bubbles.

“How do you want to celebrate Mother’s Day?” This was a question posed by the Mothering class I’m taking (virtually) during the Shelter-in-Place. Immediate thoughts were: hot bath. Face Mask. Breakfast in bed. One hour of uninterrupted yoga. Two hours to clean our cottage. (That’s a weird one, I know. But I’m weird, and cleaning is a form ofself-care for me.) Gluten-free pizza. Bubbles (the Champagne kind). And one whole hour to write.

So here it is, one hour of writing paired with Billecart-Salmon Brut Rosé, a gently tart, delicately balanced bubbly, possessing a simple yet elegant finish (sounds like how I aspire to be as described a Mother). Billecart was a favorite stop on our honeymoon in Champagne and BTW, in case you care, it’s pronounced “bee-lay-cahr sal-moh”.  (I recorded our tour guide for proof.) One hour of writing. No time for edits or adds. So I immediately want to apologize in advance, but I’m not going to. I’m working on that. Not apologizing.

Ok: so, some unedited thoughts, 5 months into my Mothering journey.

Sometimes I still can’t process the whole thing. Me as “Mother”…me. The girl who looked like a slightly gawky teen well into her 30s (with the increasing lines forming on my forehead daily, I sure can’t say that now); a high-pitched, airy, manic pixie dream (or…nightmare?) girl. “Mother” feels of the Earth: solid, wise, soft, all-knowing. The polar opposite of “me.”

In my youth, and even into my early 30s, I never imagined I’d be a Mother. For various reasons. Mostly because I found dogs more adorable than babies (which I thought to be a very clear sign I should not have a baby). I never rocked baby dolls, never tried to feed a stuffed animal a bottle. I never babysat. I was afraid to hold other people’s babies (what if I didn’t cradle them right and their delicate neck fell back? What if they pooped on me? What if they cried?). Babies terrified me. When I was pregnant, I was way more frightened of baby care than I was of childbirth. How will I know what to “do?” How will I learn to change a diaper? How will I be able to understand what this little creature wants and needs when all she can do is cry instructions?

Well, the instructions are quite clear, if you just listen. Every day, I am learning to listen. And I found out: taking care of this small creature? You just do. You just figure it out. It’s the ease of slipping into this role of “Mother” that astonishes me. One day I wasn’t, one day I was. A Mother. Not that I’m good at it. I’ve accidentally bonked her in the head. Hard. Twice. I’ve accidentally bit her thumb. Hard. Twice. I probably cried just as much (or maybe more) than she did those first weeks, trying to figure out how to feed her and soothe her in my spindly arms. 

I’m so overwhelmingly grateful for her presence that my heart wants to burst out of my chest and then in the exact same moment I also wish I were sitting (alone) on a beach in Hawaii sipping a Piña Colada and reading a home decor magazine. And then just as suddenly, I’m back, and I’d rather be here than anywhere else, holding this kicking, red-faced, screaming creature. And then she’ll smile. Those smiles (and laughs, which she parses out like scraps for the the dogs, ha!) are like brilliant, fleeting little champagne bubbles: they fill my glass to overflow, then flit along their merry way, popping and vanishing into thin air. And then I can’t wait for those giggles to come back again, and I shall make all the funny faces until they do.

And Time. TIME! What on Earth did we do before she was here? Maybe we took more showers. Maybe I wrote more. The house was definitely cleaner. The to-do list had more check marks on it. Now suddenly there’s an urge to make the most of that fleeting free time. A half hour? Take care of the basics. Pee. Eat something. Drink something. Pee. Send a work email. Eat something else. Pee. Gaze at the baby monitor…Ooo – it seems maybe we’ve got another 10 minutes before she wakes? YES! SCORE! Go down a rabbit hole looking for a baby gate to fit around our odd staircase. Another 5 minutes, and…NOOO! She’s wiggling? Already? How? Oh, crap! I forgot to make that phone call. Oh well. I’ll do it tomorrow. Or (probably) the day after that.

Every day is a chance to do better. I generally do worse, but there’s 100% chance of better. Somedays I feel like I just can’t do it. But I am doing it.

I am doing Me as a “Mother.” Heck, maybe there is a little Earth to be found in me, under all that air. 

And I do find her cuter than our dogs. (Don’t. Tell. The. Dogs.)



BLACKOUT BABY: Surviving a 168 hour blackout as a Very Pregnant Lady.

Until last Thursday evening, we had hovered around 168 hrs without power, water, or heat. While not a super comfortable situation for anyone, it was truly quite unpleasant for a 37-1/2 week Very Pregnant Lady on the brink of quite possibly the biggest life change she’ll ever encounter.

We treated the first few nights of the first October power outage (probably foolishly) as “romantic.” “It’s like glamping!”, my husband exclaimed somewhat convincingly. He forced me to learn how to light the gas stove with a lighter, and we chuckled as we warmed lentil soup and ate by (fake) candle light. We found it old-fashioned-ly adorable to read infant care books aloud to each other, and waxed on about how nice life was without the constant dim of computers and buzzing of phones. On modified bed rest since 32 weeks, I (slowly) attempted to put things away in the nursery before the sun went down each day. However, after three days of asking my husband to flush my morning situation (I couldn’t lift the bucket), our romantic outlook on our quaint life without power and water began to fade.

Our next outage event, two weeks later, was not only unromantic, but downright miserable. Power went out on a Wednesday, and didn’t come back until the next Thursday (with a day of respite in between). It was also a much more worrisome outage as the winds were maniacally howling, our poor dogs cowering in panic from the noise outside, the Kincade wildfire raging 35 miles away and rapidly approaching Santa Rosa. There was little chance of sleep between each NIXLE ding ringing out evacuations and warnings. 

Baby Girl is already a tough cookie: she’s been through three power outages, two fire threats (one during our “Babymoon” in Maui) and a bathroom renovation which kept us out of our cottage for multiple weeks. “Nesting” is a REAL PRIMAL THING, people, and our inability to do so during much of the third trimester definitely presented this mama-to-be a wee bit of anxiety. A lack of power and water is not exactly the way one would like to spend her last weeks (days? hours? we weren’t sure!) before giving birth. And if we did go into labor, where would we even give birth? Our hospital had been evacuated. 

Still, it could have been so much worse. We are incredibly grateful fire did not sweep into our area this time around. We are devastated for those who have lost homes and property. It hurt our hearts to see the same areas that burned in 2017 evacuated and/or burned once again. We are in awe of the firefighters and first responders all around this state, and those from out of state, who are working tirelessly to fight these flames. 

We have had it terribly easy compared to so many. We were able to charge up and shower at friend’s homes, and even stay at a couple places toward the end when temps dropped into the 30s. We didn’t go into labor (my biggest concern) nor did we have a freezing cold newborn at home to tend to. (Thank you, Baby Girl, for not making a dramatic entrance during a power outage, even when they said you might make an early debut. Good girl, we told you it’s nice, warm, and comfy in there! STAY PUT!)

In sum, if this Very Pregnant Lady could do it all over again, she would have some tips and tricks to make this situation slightly more…palatable. One fabulous solution would be to consume a great deal of wine. Alas, there’s that pregnancy thing, so, sadly, that’s out of the question. So here are my Pre-Baby Blackout Survival Tips (sans wine):

What we learned the hard way: *Disclaimer: many of these things can be accomplished ONLY if you have advance notice of an outage:

*If you get your water from a well, it will be shut off during the outage. Fill your bathtub with water before the outage so you have water to flush the toilet with (and so your husband doesn’t have to fill 5 gallon buckets from a neighboring pool and carry them down a hill). 

*Purchase a small generator to keep your fridge working every so often and to charge your devices. Yeah, they are expensive. So is the loss of two weeks of food. And your sanity.

*Don’t try to fit in that “last load of laundry” before the announced shutoff time of 3:00. (The power went off promptly at 2:30.)

*Purchase lanterns for the house (fake Pottery Barn candles are pretty but only effective as a romantic night light).

*Purchase a solar charger for your electronics (even powerful back up batteries only last so long…)

*Don’t waste precious phone battery listening to classical music on the first “romantic” night (Husband).

*Don’t waste precious phone battery playing your white noise app overnight AS MUCH AS YOU CANNOT SLEEP WITHOUT IT (Wife).

Things we did WELL this time around:

*Water your plants with extra water prior to shut off. Even if they wilt, you tried your best. (Admit it: they were kind of on the brink of death anyway…)

*Fill EVERY vessel you have with water (even if your partner looks at you like you are crazy). You will use it.

*Find a partner who will flush your poop for you.

*Make sure your partner has an abundance of wine so that he is continually willing to flush your poop for you.

*Fill a large bucket with water to put dirty dishes in.

*Fill your gas tanks.

*Wash your hair in advance of the shut off, and arm yourself with dry shampoo. Learn how to perfect a “messy bun.” 

*Have a solar radio accessible to listen to (but don’t forget to charge it in the sun before nighttime.)

*Take pictures and videos of the house (including each drawer and closet!) for insurance purposes, just in case.

*Collect important information and have it ready to take with you at a moments notice. 

*Know where your flashlights are located. 

*Buy a high capacity charging device (and have it charged up).

*Have back up (compostable!) cups, bowls, plates on hand.

*Have your dog carrier, leashes, collars, and dog food prepped and ready to go.

*If you are a Very Pregnant Lady on the verge of giving birth, have your hospital bags packed and in the car.

*Figure out where to give birth since your hospital is evacuated.

*Locate a sense of humor.

*Have your emergency kit (thank you NPR) packed and ready to go by the door. Additional items to include: back up battery to charge in car, solar radio, extra contacts and glasses, medications, change of clothing and underwear, safe drinking water, emergency blanket, additional first aid.

*Include back up food stuffs. (Believe it or not, I actually bought a bin that that provides 84 servings of meals that is GLUTEN FREE and lasts 25 YEARS! If it doesn’t get used by then (hopefully!) I marked our calendar to have a Gluten-Free Emergency-food Dinner Party on Oct 23, 2042.  Challenge: what kinds of wine pairings can we come up with with rehydrated food!?!

*What’s in my bag? Photo below…just like in US Weekly!




There is absolutely nothing more mouth-watering in that Spring to Summer transition than a Champagne Mango. I tend to favor these pint-sized juicy golden gems over other types of mangos, not only because of the word “Champagne” in the title (I’m a bubbly enthusiast, after all), but because they are truly the most luscious and most flavorful of all the mango varieties. These kidney-shaped delights are absolutely the “Champagne” of Mangos, though the yield be small, the pit annoyingly cumbersome, and then there’s the conundrum of how to slice it, which can be quite complicated.

Generally, I will beg my husband to do the honor of slicing the mangos for us, mostly because he’s terrifically good at it (well, this is what happens when your spouse has taken a “knife skills” class…you tend to leave the sous chef-ing to their skilled hands and therefore reap the benefits). Fortunately, he enjoys chopping and dicing almost as much as I enjoy consuming his choppings and dicings.

Mangos have always held a special place in my fruit-loving heart. My Mom and I are definite “fruities” (by the way, the “fruitie” came before the genesis of the “foodie” – I swear). I don’t know how or why it started, but when I was growing up, we used plop down “Under the Sink” (well, not fully under with the cleaning supplies, mind you, but just below the sink, and yes, on the ground). We’d lean back against the cabinet, chat, and eat fruit together. She’d prepare a mango, or a papaya with lime, or a mixed berry salad, and we’d sit on the floor and giggle at our odd tradition.

When we had fights, we would make up by talking it out “Under the Sink.” It was a place to make a peace offering, a place to cry it out over heartache, and a place to be quizzed on Civil War facts. Though many fruits journeyed with us “Under the Sink”, mangos were always my absolute favorite; the fruit that sticks in my memory most. Mangos were special: they came into season once a year and tasted just like candy. (Well, they tasted like candy to to a very candy-deprived little girl. For example, “carob” was presented as an alternative to chocolate. Nice try, health-nut parents.)

I have been unable to eat fruit for the past three years because of a stomach problem, but I’ve slowly been able to add it back in in small amounts over the past few months. Nothing can beat the freshness of a piece of fruit when it’s perfectly in season, especially when you’re not used to consuming sweet things. And this year, upon that first bite into that Champagne Mango…I don’t think anything could have tasted better.

Since we’re here obsessing about all things mango, I wanted to include my husband’s instructions on cutting a mango (he really gets the most out of those juicy little guys).

Also, because I do still occasionally need to talk it out with my Mom “Under the Sink” (albeit with cushions under our less-cushiony-with-age-bottoms), we might treat ourselves with…an adult Champagne Mango Cocktail! (Directions below.)


  1. Get a sharp knife! (Highly important in this household.)
  2. Hold the mango so that the long, skinny edge rests on the cutting board.
  3. Visualize that the pit is only about 1 cm thick in the center so find a spot on the skinny edge facing up about half that distance from the center.
  4. Cut vertically on that line. If you hit resistance halfway through, try angling the knife away from the center to try to cut “around” the wide part of the pit.
  5. Repeat on the other side of the mango. You should now have two kidney shaped halves and the center section with the flat pit in the middle.
  6. Score the flesh of the kidney sections into a grid, like you would an avocado, doing your best to keep the skin intact.
  7. Flip the kidneys over and invert them so that the flesh pops out like a turtle shell.
  8. One at a time, use your palm to press the kidney as flat as you can against a cutting board so that the skin is flush with the board’s surface.
  9. With the knife flat with the cutting board, run the knife through the fruit flesh as close to the skin as possible.
  10. Repeat with the second kidney section.
  11. Get a high-five from the soon-to-be-mango-eaters.
  12. Grab the remnants of the kidney sections and the center pit piece and selfishly scrape off anything you can get with your teeth (so that you can offer more of the “pretty” fruit for your mango-eating loved ones, of course). Avoid scraping the exterior skin though since it is crazy-bitter.
  13. Revel in the neat little squares of sweetness.


*1/4 cup crushed mint leaves

*3 cups Mango juice

*1 tablespoon fresh squeezed lime juice

*Add Sparkling Wine to taste (or fizzy water make it a virgin cocktail!) Our choice? Lexy’s Toast Brut Nature!


Crush mint leaves and lime juice until bruised. Place mint and lime in a container with the mango juice and leave to sit in the refrigerator for an hour. Remove, strain the mint leaves, and pour. Top with Sparkling Wine (to taste!), and add a wedge of real mango, mint leaves, or cucumber.

And ENJOY! “Under the Sink”, of course.



How to Saber a Champagne Bottle Without Simultaneously Sabering your Partner, Dog, or Dinner Guest.

“In victory, you deserve Champagne; in defeat, you need it.”

— Napoleon Bonaparte….(possibly)

The iconic quote above is often attributed to Napoleon, but we are not exactly sure who said it. It sure sounds like something he’d say, so let’s go with it. And as with all Champagne lore…there’s a goodly amount of myth surrounding who said or did what. Contrary to popular belief, Dom Pérignion, a French monk, did not actually “invent” Champagne (despite all the hullabaloo surrounding his “Come quickly, I’m tasting the stars” quote). And was the coupe really designed after Marie Antoinette’s breast? Who knows? Hey – it’s possible! Regardless, lore, myth, and majesty are part of Champagne’s irresistible charm: I do believe bubbles really are magic.

Even the act of opening a bottle of Champagne can carry quite a bit of flair. You can pop the cork like a cannon, signaling celebration, or you can follow a more demure act of opening the bottle, touted by those in the ‘biz’. In this fashion, it’s highly preferred to pop the cork in such a manner that could be described (most enchantingly) as a “nun’s fart”. Regardless, that pop (be it deafening or quiet) is a delightful pre-curser to what’s sure to be a fabulous evening. And to begin your celebration with even MORE panache…why not SABER your bottle open?!?

Sabering is the theatrical art of opening a Champagne bottle by a long knife/sword/saber. If done well, upon contact to the bottle rim, the cork will zoom through the air and out will fly a bit of Champagne, along a clean break in the glass (all three of these things hopefully missing someone’s eyeball in the process).

I had never personally sabered (is that a verb?) a bottle, but made a resolution to learn on as good a time as any for resolution-making: New Year’s Eve. We were given a beautiful French Laguiole saber for our wedding and I was determined to figure out how to use it. After watching countless YouTube videos, I felt like I understood the gist of it, and decided it was high time to try the damn thing. That was the first attempt, off our front porch into the bushes. It went pretty well, and I went to sleep proudly having accomplished a New Year’s resolution before New Year’s Day had even hit.

The second attempt was in front of 60 party guests. GULP.


I’d like to proudly report that no one was killed, lost an eye, or was doused in Champagne (although someone may have welcomed the latter), so I figured my two time success deserved heaps of praise. As I proudly sent a slo-mo video of my saber-feat to my girlfriends, one asked “so what’s up with this saber tradition, anyway? Don’t you lose a lot of the wine? What’s the point if you lose a bunch of wine?”

I had to admit; I had no idea about the tradition surrounding the saber. So I looked it up.

Apparently (hey, Champagne myths!) after winning the French Revolution, as Napoleon galloped home victoriously with his fleet of men, the townsfolk, in their excitement, tossed bottles of Champagne to him and his army. Being it was quite difficult to open the bottles while riding, the men quickly sabered them with their swords. (I’m not totally sure how that’s easier, but okay, it’s lore).

According to his quote, Napoleon drank Champagne regardless of victory or defeat, but I highly doubt anyone tossed him a bottle after his defeat at Waterloo. I’m sure when he got home from that bummer of a job, he probably did open a bottle to nurse his wounds. However I’m pretty sure he didn’t open that bottle with an extravagant pop, but probably with that gentle sound of a nun’s fart.

Since then, there’s a bit of pomp and circumstance surrounding the act of sabering. Yes you lose a little wine…but you gain some street cred. (I like to tell myself this).

And so, lastly (so you can gain some street cred), here’s what I promised you:

How to Saber a Champagne Bottle:

  1. Procure a saber and a bottle of sparkler (I’d err on the side of inexpensive here).
  2. Remove the foil completely and take the wire cage off the bottle (and make SURE the bottle is pointing AWAY from anyone you love, or even like) as sometimes corks like to “pop” on their own before the time is right). There’s a lot of pressure in that bottle – six atmospheres to be exact!
  3. Turn the bottle until you locate a “seam”, a vertical line running from the bottom all the way to the top. It’s faint, but it’s there. Place your non-dominant hand under the bottle, holding it horizontally so the seam is facing up.
  4. With the bottle slightly tilted up, guide the saber along the seam. I like to do this a few times to “practice” before hitting the rim of the bottle. (Also, look around…this is a good time to make sure no one has wandered into your safe space.)
  5. Take a breath. You got this, Champ!
  6. On your last slide down the bottle with the saber, give it a little extra “oomph”. (This is a technical term). The saber will hit the lip of the bottle, create a clean break in the neck, and the pressure will send any glass, the cork, and a bit of the sparkler out of the bottle.
  7. Celebrate! Pour everyone you love (or like) some bubbly! Be careful, as the spout of the bottle could be sharp from where the clean break happened!

P.S. In case of a sobering, saber defeat: choose your bottle wisely. I’d recommend practicing on a Sparkler under $20. Do NOT choose a bottle of $2,000 Billecart-Salmon, as did the sommelier of the famed French Laundry in Napa. Big-time. Epic. Fail.

To witness this face palming occurrence, check out the video below.








As promised, here’s the follow up to my Cellar Rat Attire post! I have been itching to write this one as I’ve been through much trial and error with what to put on my face in my new position as a winery “Cellar Rat.”

I will readily admit, I happen to be the kind of gal who enjoys a little concealer under her eyes and a little color in her cheeks (otherwise I get asked, often in horror: “Lexy, oh my gosh, are you okay? You look sick!”) when I’m just…natural.

Hey! I woke up like this! (And it’s not pretty.) 


(I have a nice husband.)

Hey – it’s okay! Sometimes we need a little help from our makeup-friends.

As mentioned in my last post, I spend most of my days covered in water (or wine). Too many times I’ve applied mascara, only to have it stream down my face five minutes into starting work. A wet cellar rat is even more unfortunate than a dry cellar rat. And even worse than a wet cellar rat is a wet, raccoon cellar rat.

As our winery, vineyards, and lifestyle become more and more sustainable, I’m in the process of switching over all of my household and beauty products to clean, non-toxic ones. The FDA only bans 30 chemicals from household and beauty products whereas the European Union bans 1,300. That’s an astonishing difference! After reading a lot of literature on the subject, I’ve decided to make the switch, as best I can, to “clean beauty”. As I run out of products, I’ve been slowly replacing my toxic items with clean ones. It’s a process to figure out what natural ones work best, but I’m on a mission!

Here are my top choices (and a few bonus ideas from my nighttime routine):

  1. You must always begin your day with sunscreen. There are no excuses…it’s just so easy now! I’ve got a few favorite sunscreen products, but I have to suggest this do-it-all CC Cream from Supergoop. It’s a clean sunscreen that doubles as a foundation (as it seems to have more coverage than a tinted moisturizer). It makes your skin softer and smoother with a blend of apple extract, Irish moss, and red seaweed extract. I don’t know what Irish moss and red seaweed are…but I love the product. The only sad news is I’m in between two shades: Fair Light and Light. So I bought both (ouch ouch ouch – thank goodness for the yearly Sephora sale) and mix them together for the perfect Lexy color! 
  2. Speaking of Sunscreen, this SPF 30 Powder Brush on Block is my go-to for a little extra boost of sunscreen as the day wears on. I’ve tried countless types of powder sunscreens, but this one is the easiest to use, and they make refills to cut down on waste. (Yay!)
  3. Speaking of MORE Sunscreen (yep…the love affair continues): I love this mineral-rich Supergoop SPF 37 Eye Cream. This anti-aging eye cream is packed with squalene and oat peptides to combat fine lines. The cool-tip applicator massages the eye area too. (Hint: keep this in the fridge for an extra de-puffing under-eye boost!)
  4. Hynt Concealer is the closest “clean” beauty dupe I’ve found for my beloved “It Cosmetics Bye Bye Under Eye” concealer. I tried the popular RMS concealer but it was too thin for my cavernous dark circles. (Thanks, Mom!) Hynt’s concealer is full coverage (yay!) non-drying (yay!) and delivers a non-cakey look (triple yay!). Botanical extracts and oils make it smooth when applied and all you need is a wee dab.
  5. It’s taken me awhile to find the perfect “clean” waterproof mascara, but I give you: Eyeko Eyeliner Sport. It’s incredibly waterproof (which is HIGHLY necessary to avoid that raccoon look) and gives me great volume and curl. I’m in love!
  6. The Ilia Multi Stick in Tenderly has replaced my staple Mabelline blush stick. It’s made with cocoa butter and sunflower oil, with and it’s the perfect shade of pink! I swipe this on my cheeks, rub it in, and swipe it on my lips too! Multi-use indeed!
  7. There’s really nothing that can be done for wine-stained nails…but I use this nail brush and rub a multi-purpose Marula oil at into my cuticles before bed. (Hint: you can use this oil many different ways: on your nails, hair, and face for a moisture boost!)
  8. If I’m lazy, I take the day off with an Ursa Major wipe, OR (if I’m feeling a bit more luxurious) this Farmacy Melt-away Cleanser. After rubbing my eyes gently with the balm, it removes even waterproof eye makeup – no cotton pads needed! Genius. (If you don’t use waterproof eye makeup another suggestion to take the day off is the Osea Ocean Cleanser (it smells so good)! 
  9. After cleansing, I apply this Indie Lee CoQ10 Toner I got as a sample (thank you Follain – more on this company below!) and I love it. It removes excess oil while delivering powerful antioxidants and moisturizing hyaluronic acid. Here’s where I need cotton pads…and I love these reusable ones. They come with a little mesh baggie you can toss in with your laundry! No more waste!
  10. Lastly, I slather on this Ursa Major Face Cream cream (generally mixed in with the Marula oil) to hydrate my skin for the next morning. 

I have a couple favorite sources that sell clean and natural beauty products, but my favorite is Follain. Out of all the companies I have bought clean products from, they do the most in-depth research and testing of the products they sell, and have curated a strict list of chemicals they ban from products sold by their company. Love!

P.S. Here’s a BONUS for getting all the way to the end of this article: a code for 15% off your first purchase from Follain: just type in the code ref15_l67yii during check out!


This post contains affiliate links.

Cellar Rat Style Guide: One Gal’s Guide to Winery Work Attire.

The bubbly blog has had a bit of a break over the last few months, and I heartily apologize. I’d offer you bubbles, but that would be hard to coordinate over the internet. There are no excuses BUT I’ll give them anyway.

I honestly haven’t had time to even see straight, as I spent my first, full-time Harvest as the “Cellar Rat” at GlenLyon Winery. Yes, this is an actual title for a person who does all the grunt work in the winery that nobody else wants to do. And can we start by changing this whole Rat thing to “Cellar Mouse”? It’s slightly more appealing inducing when I introduce myself. (And I despise rats.) As the first female “Cellar Mouse” on the GlenLyon property, I quickly became a “Cellar Guinea Pig” as I had to figure out how to dress myself properly for work.

Having worked a few days of Harvest here and there in the past, I knew I’d be sticky and I knew I’d end up with wine stains on my clothes. I figured what I’d worn in previous years of half-days would suffice. But then, I’d only ever showed up, picked out MOG (Material Other than Grapes), and then slyly scooted out to go wine tasting, leaving the massive clean up to the Cellar Rat. Bye!

Well, this year…that Cellar Rat/Mouse/Guinea Pig was me. I learned the hard way that I was to spend most of my days completely soaked through to the bone, covered in grape juice, but mostly covered in water. It is highly important in a winery to super sanitize everything thoroughly, and then thoroughly again after use. I’ve cleaned massive hoses, scrubbed the inside of tanks twice my size, and power-washed flex tanks. I’ve scoured the floors with a high pressure, Zamboni-like surface cleaner, blasted mold out of hiding, and thrown buckets of water onto an enormous press (throwing my back out in the process). I’ve shot myself in the face with water, my Boss in the face with water, and then my Boss in the crotch with water (and by “Boss” I mean my Dad). Sorry Dad…I mean, Boss. (In my defense, the hose has a complicated looking nozzle.) After shooting your Boss/Dad multiple times, you learn (quickly) how NOT to hold the trigger-happy handle FOR FEAR OF YOUR LIFE.

About a week into this new job, I realized I needed a new winery “wardrobe”. And because there was no “ladies guide” advising me on the correct winery work attire, I had to figure it out the hard (and wet) way how to dress. I will readily admit, I like to look slightly presentable at work in case a tour shows up, hence the functional, yet not-wholly-unappealing must-haves below. I hope this guide can be useful to any other ladies out there in the business of wine.


  1. The number one most essential item to acquire is a pair of non-slip, every-day work boots. I found a steel-toe option from Caterpillar that are 100% waterproof, very durable, and actually kind of cute! And unbelievably light despite the steel-toe situation. They come in grey and purple (I opted for grey in fear of being mocked by the Boss). The first day of work, I showed up in my adorable Hunter riding boots and immediately felt like I was going to slip on the consistently-wet ground (and maybe I did, but honestly, who needs to know that?). Buy good boots. You won’t regret it.
  2. Sorry to say this, but you’re gonna need TWO pairs of good boots. Purchase non-slip Muck Boots to leave in the winery. They come in handy at the end of the day when you are cleaning the entire winery from floor to ceiling. Again, these puppies are WAY better than Hunters because they cinch in around the calf muscle so water doesn’t glide down and make a pool in the bottom of your boots. (Ask me how I know this.)
  3. Smart-wool socks have changed my life. I get them at REI and they keep my feetsies toasty and dry.
  4. I couldn’t live without my Apple Watch. Mine’s an older model, but still water resistant (highly important), has a timer (which comes in handy when filling tanks with argon), and I can screen phone calls (a tour or our shipping company? Yes. That Chinese robocall? No).
  5. The gloves I find most useful are these babies from HydraHyde. They provide awesome grip when I’m connecting hoses to tanks with Tri-Clover clamps and are somewhat water/wine-resistant.
  6. Pants: I use my oldest stretchy/skinny jeans. No need to muck up anything new! They’re kind-of akin to sweatpants (i.e. super comfy). Any old pair will do. I also have some Water Resistant Tights that have come in handy a few times.
  7. This durable little Lululemon Belt Bag sits on your waist and has enough room for a cellphone, chapstick, and a snack bar. It’s also water repellent! Yeah yeah, I know, it’s really just a glorified Fanny Pack, so make fun of me if you want: I don’t care! (Dear Reader: I now wear steel-toe boots and carry a pocket knife in my back pocket so you can glean that I am not a good judge of what’s cool anymore.)
  8. Unliqo Long Sleeve Heat-Tech Tee-Shirts are FABULOUS. They are warm and a great base layer. I’ve had mine since 2008, no joke.
  9. The Patagonia Better Sweater keeps me warm but allows for lots of movement when I’m climbing on top of barrels and flex tanks. On such occasions, I am deemed a “Cellar Monkey”. Take that, resumé!
  10. Carhartt Jacket and Waterproof Pants: Our right hand man José has these and they make him impervious to water. I’ve been eyeing his duds with extreme jealously all season long, and have since discovered they come in women’s sizes! Woo! They are on the top of my wish list for the 2019 Harvest. So…Christmas in July? Santa, can you hear me?!?
  11. In case of a wine tour in the middle of a day of winery work my secret weapon are these Sorel Boots. I know, I know, now we are on pair number three of footwear. BUT! These are functional yet fashionable, waterproof, non-slip, and give me a little height boost (I’m 5’2″). I can wear them comfortably all over the property (as well as use them on winter trips to the East Coast!)

My very last piece of advice is if you go with your Boss (i.e. Dad) to a wine symposium, don’t let him sneakily put “Cellar Rat” as your title on your name tag lanyard. You might want to check this before you walk into the room. Otherwise, as you saunter through the symposium checking out corks and steam cleaners, you will notice people staring at you and smiling. You may think (rightfully so): “Wow, they must really like my cool, steel-toe Caterpillar boots and Better Sweater.” But no. They are looking at your Cellar Rat title and giggling on the inside. Please, please realize this before the end of the day when someone finally points it out and you die a little inside and clutch your purse tightly over your lanyard for the last 15 minutes of the event.


Have a glass of wine to nurse your daily wine wounds: you deserve it! (Or beer, if that’s your jam. As the old saying goes: “It takes a lot of beer to make good wine.”)

After that, treat your wine stains immediately with Incredible Stain Remover (it’s non-toxic and biodegradable)!

Then have another glass of wine.



P.S. Except for our Sparkling Wine, and the mention of GlenLyon Winery we here at Don’t Burst My Bubble! are not affiliated with any products listed above.

Butter is Better

Butter sit down for this one (pun intended). Until I turned the ripe old age of 30, I had never in my life cooked with butter.

Yep! You heard me.

Now that your shock and horror has ceased and you can stand again, let me explain.

My mother (a former dancer and therefore a former health nut) was so anti-butter that it did not even have a presence in our kitchen when I was growing up in the 80s/90s. I Can’t Believe it’s NOT Butter sat decidedly on the refrigerator shelf, pronouncing proudly from it’s little yellow package: Butter is Bad! I am Better than Butter!

Sometimes we had Country Crock, or Smart Balance, or some sort of margarine. Globs of buttery imitation substances glimmered on top our slices of ancient grain 7-seed wheat toast. Then I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter was released as a SPRAY. In college, I recall, in an attempt to cut calories, my girlfriends and I would squirt this substance on toast and top it with a Splenda. Ew.

Hellooooo chemicals! Welcome to my body!

I assume I’d probably tasted butter millions of times in restaurants on pasta, fish, and meat. But because it was banned in our house I automatically assumed it was a wicked log of heart-clogging material, so I rarely attempted to spread it on bread in a restaurant. Despite it’s universal presence outside of my childhood home, I never realized one could cook with it and STILL be healthy…until the girls in my dressing room at Avenue Q one night peered into my insanely-boring, nightly scramble. Either from the smell or simply the look of it, they wrinkled their noses at my broccoli/tofu/quinoa jumble I had sautéed in Olive Oil Spray. Then someone said, “You know, Lex, that would probably be so much better if you cooked it with butter.”

I replied that I’d never owned, never bought, and never cooked with butter. I was met with wide eyes and stunned silence. Then gasps pervaded the room! “Lexy OMG everything’s better with BUTTER!” “You don’t even put it in your EGGS?!”

I was ordered to go to Trader Joes immediately (well, after the show), buy a stick of butter and start cooking with it. Then I was to report back.

For my first experiment, I made some gluten-free pasta and melted butter on top, with a little parmesan, salt pepper, and lemon. OKAY. YUP! I could immediately taste the difference. This is what I’d been missing my whole life! Who needed a boyfriend when there was BUTTER?!? The rich, creamy, delicious butter won over my heart (in it’s potentially heart-clogging way). I began adding butter to my eggs, pasta, even gluten-free English Muffins! I then discovered Ghee (clarified butter) from my Godmother, and that also has become a condiment staple.

As I make my way through the world (and current food/gut-related issues) I have come to believe in balance (and NOT Smart Balance). I believe in making things taste delicious. I believe in whole and wholesome foods. I also believe in moderation. And butter in moderation can elevate a dish into something much more special. (And I am happy to report there is now a stick of butter in my parents refrigerator, too!)

Here’s one of my favorite (and easy!) recipes that pairs perfectly with a (NON!) buttery Chardonnay from GlenLyon Winery. ENJOY!



Shrimp over Pasta with Parsley, Lemon, and Garlic (for two!) 


  • 1/2 lb raw shrimp (fresh if possible, we like 26/30 size)
  • 2 cups dried fusilli pasta (gluten-free for us!)
  • 1 cup of Italian parsley when stripped off stems
  • 1/2 cup Chardonnay
  • 2-3 cloves of garlic
  • 1 lemon
  • crushed red pepper flakes
  • 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
  • 2 tbsp BUTTER (REAL!)
  • Shredded Parmesan (Lexy says: as much as you WANT!)

Directions (to multitask!):

  • Pour yourself a glass of Chardonnay
  • Fill a stock pot with water a bring to a boil
  • While the water boils…
    • Strip the parsley from the stems and finely chop
    • Press half the garlic through a press
    • Zest and juice the lemon
    • Combine the olive oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, pressed garlic, chopped parsley in a small bowl; season with salt and pepper
    • Slice the other half of the garlic into thin slices; reserve for shrimp
    • Start to heat skillet over medium-high heat
    • Add the butter to the skillet, allow to melt
  • Once the water boils…
    • Salt the water, add the pasta, and start the clock (about 7 minutes for our glut)
  • Once the butter is melted and starting to sizzle…
    • Add sliced garlic to skillet, cook 30 seconds to a minute until fragrant
    • Add shrimp to skillet then leave them alone
    • Give the pasta a swirl
    • Have a sip (or two) of Chardonnay
  • After 3 minutes
    • Turn the shrimp
    • Give the pasta a swirl
    • Have a another sip (or two) of Chardonnay
  • After another 2 minutes (the shrimp should almost be done)…
    • Sprinkle as much crushed red pepper over shrimp as you want
    • Deglaze the pan by throwing in the Chardonnay with the shrimp, allow it to bubble and reduce by half for the next minute
  • While the Chardonnay is cooking down and the shrimp finishes…
    • Check the pasta (it should be done after 7 minutes)
    • Drain the pasta and return it to the stock pot
  • Now bring it all together…
    • Add the olive oil/lemon/parsley mixture to the pot
    • Add the shrimp and wine sauce from the skillet to the pot
    • Toss it all together
  • Serve with heaps of grated Parmesan cheese and a glass (or two) of Chardonnay
  • Enjoy!

Vinomoon: a Retrospective.

It’s been a year since my husband and I took our magical trip to France for our Vinomoon (ahem, our HONEYmoon). This week I happened to be doing a little spring cleaning in our apartment and found a notebook we kept throughout the trip, a compilation of the best and worst of our experiences (because we knew we’d forget them later.) So the timing couldn’t have been better for us to open the notes and relive aloud our spectacular journey to Paris, Champagne, and Bordeaux.

Before taking the deep dive down the notebook’s memory lane, we (obviously!) decided to pop open a special bottle that we lugged back with us from France: an Emmanuel Brochet 1er cru Extra Brut. (P.S. if you plan on buying wine on a trip…bring this or this lifesaving apparatus.)

The bubbly was just as we remembered it (though in France we did get to enjoy it alongside the most delicious, melty triple-creme brie cheese I’ve ever tasted). This time, we paired it with a Petit Marin breakfast cheese, which didn’t have quite the same effect. (Side note: I still consumed the 7/8ths of the wheel.) Despite our lack of gooey cheese, the Brut showed all the character that made us love it the first time, with its nose of vanilla, butterscotch, and toffee. It’s quite rich for being extra dry (with only 4 grams sugar per litre), and full-bodied without feeling over indulgent. Flavors of brioche, pear, and – with the cheese – I got baked apple cheesecake (Is that a thing? If not, it should be). It was low in acid, yet lively and fresh, with a superbly clean finish.

Whilst sipping our delicious bubbly, we ambled through the “Vinomoon” notebook, chortling and reminiscing about the trip. The most magical part of the little notebook was discovering the “interview” we gave each other on the plane back home to California.

So here it is, in all it’s glory: our fake Vanity Fair interview on the “highlights and lowlights” of our Vinomoon:


HUSBAND: We were in the Champagne region in Reims and we missed the last train to Epernay (that sounds like a movie title.) No Ubers. No Lyfts. So we took a taxi home. Which cost a whopping 80 euro!

LEXY: BUT…it ended up being the best cab ride EVER! I got a free French lesson from a true Frenchman. (Well, I guess it wasn’t free, it was 80 euro. But, STILL!) I was crabby to have missed out train, but our Cabbie’s sweet musings about his Petite Chien (or was it his Petite Girlfriend? I’ll never know) turned my red glasses blue. It could have been the bubbly at dinner, but Cabbie and Moi really connected over the ride home.

I speak incredible French after a glass (or two) of wine.



H: Lexy.

L: Moi. What?!? I’m owning it!


G: Lexy.

L: Moi. I’m owning this too! TWO separate colds, 1 stomach bug, and 1 ear infection. I couldn’t hear out of my left ear for 16 of the 17 days. SEE??? THERE WAS A REASON I WAS THE CRABBIEST PERSON!

H: I got sick one time. I re-infected Lexy for her 2nd cold. Sorry, Lex!

L: What? I can’t hear you.


H: I only stalled one rental car once. I also got a parking ticket and didn’t even know! It was mailed to California. How did they find me? 

L: OMG did you ever pay that? We can never go back to France unless you pay it! PAY IT! Anyway, I was very impressed by Husband’s stick shift driving, but my resting heart rate in the car during the many round-a-bouts was close to 150. (Is that bad?)

H: Lexy forced me to pull over about 7,000 times to take pictures. This cow was pretty cute, though.



L: Gosh, it happened SO many times. But the biggie was we were unable to find the entrance to Y’quem (if you don’t know of it, Y’quem is the one of the most famous wineries in Bordeaux, and somehow I had managed to procure us a tour.) So I was having full on panic attack that we might miss our coveted appointment. Thanks to our trusty GPS guide (who I deemed “Claire Voyant”) we finally entered the vicinity of Y’quem, but ended up circling inside the vineyard for about 5 minutes till we found our way. No signs. No one spoke English. “This can’t be right” I kept repeating, over and over as our car was turning the middle of a vineyard. Heart rate: 180.

H: Lexy’s an awesome back seat driver.

L: Is that a compliment?



BOTH: Tarlant! With Micheline!

H: She was the sweetest older lady – the mother of the current winemaker – and it was the longest and most personal tasting we had. They are like 13 generations deep!

L: Our other favorite was at Moussé et Fils with Cedric. It was a gorgeous facility, and he really took the time to endure our (many) questions.


L: Epernay. We were sitting studying the menu at a completely EMPTY VERY LONG bar. A tipsy frenchman entered and plopped down RIGHT next to us.

H: We had asked if it was okay to eat at the bar. They had said “non.” So while we waited for a table, the drunk man was served food immediately. AT THE BAR. Before they even managed to get us a glass of wine.

L: The drunk man proceeded to ask my husband if he wanted to taste his “pig insides” and when he politely refused, Drunky forcefully shoved pig insides in my husband’s face, and continually asked us why we didn’t want to taste them. Mon dieu!

H: We were (finally) moved to a table, and asked the waiter why the Drunkard was allowed to eat at the bar while we weren’t. The waiter said: he was “an exception.”

L: Then his shoe fell off and he broke a glass. l’exception, indeed.


H: We went to the most incredible farmer’s market in Epernay, right before leaving for Bordeaux. We bought a few things to eat on the train, one being an easy peasy normal Camembert. About half way to Bordeaux…Lexy (who has a ridiculously amazing sense of smell) got a whiff of…TRASH.

L: Something was rotten…and it was in the state of our train compartment. We started sniffing around…feet? No. My purse? No. The Frenchman across from us? No.

H: Food bag? OUI! Meat? no. Artichokes? No. Olives? No. Moldy Chevre? Like the kind that is actually covered in mold? No! Lexy’s right armpit?

L: (It’s a notoriously stinky armpit.)

H: NO! Ah HA! The “mild” camembert?

L: OUI! Nightmare New York City Subway Garbage Cheese Camembert. Even the Frenchman across from us looked faintly ill. 


B: Au Bon Manger in Reims!

L: Everything about this little shop was magical…the hard-to-procure Champagnes lining the walls, the perfect Charcuterie plates, the people…and in waltzed Emmanuel Brochet. (Remember the bubbly I described in the beginning? That was his!) We had seen his picture in our “Grower Champagne” book (he’s very handsome!) so we recognized him immediately. He hadn’t responded to our pleas to come visit his winery…so we asked him in the shop. While he was “way way way too busy” that week, I still managed to procure his email for our next visit!

H: I was too nervous to speak so just sat there grinning like a fool. But at least I didn’t ask to have my photo taken with him like the folks at the other table did. We had just bought some of his wine so I pointed at it and gave a thumbs up. There you go! Ha.



L: Epernay: our Airbnb smelled like chocolate poop. When we arrived (on a Sunday) there was no TP or soap…and all the stores were closed since it was…Sunday.

H: Bordeaux: our Airbnb was up at least 10 flights of the tiniest castle stairs you could possibly imagine. Guess who carried our SIX bags (one of which was a full case of Champagne).

L: They were missing a WINE OPENER (this is BORDEAUX, people!), paper towels, dish soap, and hand soap, and the sponge was so mildew encrusted we had to buy another one. I was so mad about it I took all the items we had to buy back to California with us (out of principle!). Anyone want a used sponge and a roll of paper towels?

But omg: the view from our little apartment balcony!



L: Underground wine museum in Paris (that Husband thought would be “too touristy”). 

H: General availability of rotisserie chicken.


L: Ugh! So many.

H: Paris, in general. The restaurant Le Soufflé. Locking our love lock on the Pont Des Arts Bridge> 

L: Every time it rained. (I love rain!) So, definitely the picnic we had in Ay after visiting Pierre Gimmonet. We were on the grass next to a river in Ay with our picnic and a split. All of a sudden it looked like they sky was about to open up, so we bolted to the car just in time, and enjoyed the rest of lunch safely ensconced during a thunderstorm. I thought it was romantic! Scientific Fact: French rain is definitely more romantic than American rain. 

H: Mine was when bought an (overpriced) bottle of Billecart Salmon Brut Rosé, walked to the base of the Eiffel tower, found a fountain with some rocks to sit on, and toasted each other as the tower lights flashed away. 

L: It rained that night too! Sigh. Also, If you want to know how to pronounce Billecart Salmon, just ask me. I have a recording of our tour guide. So it’s official. Side note: like those in the know, you can just say “Billie.” Pronounced: Billy. As in Billy Baldwin.

H: That’s so weird, Lex.



H: Trust Lexy’s gut.

L: Trust my gut.


The Best Brunch Ever (Every Week.)


How I love thee. Brunch and brunching might be among my top-5 favorite things on the planet. Here’s to the ladies who brunch! What’s not to love about a lazy weekend tradition of a combination breakfast/lunch (but let’s face it: mostly breakfast) in which we luxuriate over all things eggy? After staying up a bit later than usual on Saturday night, one likes to sleep in a bit, and no one wants to miss breakfast (or the chance of bottomless mimosas)! So thank heavens for late-morning brunch!

This glorious weekend tradition originated in England in the late 19th century and was aptly proclaimed “brunch” in a 1895 Hunter’s Weekly article by Guy Beringer where he states “Brunch is cheerful, sociable, and inciting…talk-compelling. It puts you in good temper, it makes you satisfied with yourself and your fellow beings, it sweeps away the worries and cobwebs of the week.”

I highly agree with all of these sentiments.

Brunch then became popular in America in the 1930s. People were looking for a new “social scene” outside of church, as attendance was low after the 1st World War. Hotels began providing “brunch” as many restaurants were (shock!) closed on Sundays. Restaurants eventually caught wind of this and began providing brunch (and morning libations). And thus…the tradition of Sunday Brunch was born. (YAY!)

My only caveat with brunch (yes there is ONE tiny caveat) is that along with this delightful and enticing eggy goodness comes a great cost: the cost of “fancy” eggs. Like Anthony Bourdain rails about in his book: it’s hard to knowingly fork over $15 for eggs and potatoes. He describes it a “horribly, cynical way of unloading leftovers and charging three times as much as you ordinarily charge for breakfast.”

So instead of trekking to our favorite San Francisco brunch joints, my husband and I made the decision early in our relationship to create our own lavish weekend brunches. Sunday has since become our leisurely cook-brunch-at-home day…and it couldn’t be more tasty! (And inexpensive!) One of our favorite (and easy) recipes is below. It’s gluten-free, sugar-free, and oh so darn darn delicious paired with a lovely Sparkling Wine. (Bottomless, because bubbly always happens be in our refrigerator.)

So put on some Sunday Brunch Radio (yes, this exists on iTunes) and start cookin’!

Scrambled Eggs with Goat Cheese and Chives:



Ingredients for 2 servings:
– 4-6 eggs
– Chives (we grow these in our mini herb garden.)
– Goat Cheese
– Gluten-free English muffins
– Butter

Prep chives. Pre-heat non-stick pan. Whisk eggs together. Melt 1 tbs. butter. Add eggs. Pop muffins in toaster. My husband insists this is the only way to scramble eggs anymore, continuously stirring to give them that “French” fluffy look. Add goat cheese (to your liking – I like a LOT). Cook to desired level of done. Top buttered muffins with eggs.


And don’t forget to concoct your own bottomless mimosas…in the comfort of your own home!

We humbly suggest Lexy’s Toast Brut Rosé…with a teeny splash of grapefruit juice. (Need we say more?)





Full disclosure: We here at Lexy’s Toast produce Lexy’s Toast Wines Sparkling Rosé. 

These Are a Few of Our Favorite Things: Valentine’s Day Gift Guide

We’re getting excited as Valenwine‘s Day grows closer…errr…I mean, Valentines!

In lieu of individual gifts, my husband and I are going in on a gift together…a wedding album! (Finally.) However, I’m still expecting a card, some flowers, and some bubbly.

(Hint, hint, husband.)

Here’s our top Valentine’s Day gift picks, for the loved ones in your life, below:


1. Yes, real men indeed wear pink. Loving this silk dot tie!

2. For those that don’t imbibe: Strawberries & Champagne Lollipops!

3. This pretty Silk Pillowcase promises to do all sorts of magical things for you. Better skin and hair while you sleep? And machine-washable? Yes, please!

4. Use this mini bottle of bubbly as a keychain, or just hook it on your purse for a daily dose of sparkle.

5. One of my most favorite things on the planet is husband bringing me some sweet yellow flowers (I’m not really a rose kinda gal)…and a bottle of bubbly! Get ours, here.

6. For the kiddos in your life: sweet flower cookie cutters!

7. My husband and I are gifting ourselves this beautiful Layflat Photo Album with our favorite wedding photos. After some extensive research, we landed on Artifact Uprising. Sometimes they have 10% off codes right around holidays if you get on their mailing list! I like this company for a couple reasons: they use sustainable paper, recycled fibers, and provide jobs for adults with disabilities. Check them out!

8. It’s always the right time for…Champagne! And it’s definitely time for this adorable bubbly watch.

9. Well, this couldn’t be a sweeter gift package: Sugarfina bubbly “wine” candies, complete with a set of Champagne glasses? We’ll toast to that!


P.S. Except for our Sparkling Wine, we here at Lexy’s Toast are not affiliated with any products listed here; we just covet them. 😉 

P.P.S. Cover Photo by Melania Mahoney Photography.