Pursuits
Just Because I’m in a Madhouse, It’s Not Crazy to Drink Local
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Sipping pinot blanc in a former mental asylum, I’m testing my decision to drink local wine during my annual summer stay by Lake Michigan.
The whites at Left Foot Charley winery, housed in what was once the laundry of the state loony bin in Traverse City, are so crisp and savory they convince me my palate won’t suffer if, while here, I’m a “locapour”.