Say hello to Paso Bro

He found the new Tuscany. It’s off Highway 46.

Paso Bro /ˈpæs-oʊ broʊ/ (Noun)

A “man of the people,” the Paso Bro is the ultimate champion of Paso South, but not Santa Barbara, that’s where he draws the line. Why? Santa Barbara is just too close to LA.

Paso Bro is incredibly approachable (if he hasn’t approached you first, which he probably has) and paradoxically the most exhausting member of the wine archetype family to date. (Links to Pinot Bro and Cab Bro)

Behavioral Traits

• The Rhetorical Flex: He asks “questions” of winemakers that are actually stealth resumes. He doesn’t want to know if the winemaker made wine in Italy; he wants everyone within earshot to know HE’S been to Italy (specifically on a tour bus named “The Tuscan Dream”). 14 cities in 14 days…”I saw it all…don’t need to go back.”

• The Caymus Irony: He positions his palate as “uncorrupted” by elitism and label worship, preferring wines that “pack a punch” and destinations that “keep it real.” The irony, Caymus is the gold standard of winery achievement. Luckily, he discovered Austin Hope and has been a club member since it opened.

• Work Truck Woes: He frequently complains about Napa prices while ignoring the fact that his new Dodge 2500 6.7L Turbo Diesel currently costs $233 to fill up every four days. “Yeah, but I can expense it.” Just look at the custom plates MR PASO….

• The Hospitality Hog: He loves a tasting room because it provides a captive audience. He will keep tasting room staff hostage for 45 minutes telling stories, calling the girls “sweetheart”, asking nonsense questions all while greating new guests with a hearty “Welcome to Paso”.

  

The Daytime “Tasting Trail” Look

• The Top: A rotation of high-performance golf polos, Tommy Bahama silk button-downs, and Salty Crew t-shirts.

• The Bottom: Cargo shorts with no fewer than six pockets.

• The “Holster”: A rugged, leather or ballistic nylon cell phone holster clipped firmly to his shorts. It sits directly above his right hip for “quick-draw” access.

• The Footwear: Horse-bit Loafers. He bought these in Florence during “The Tour.” He tells every tasting room attendant, “They told me in Italy, Gary, you gotta wear the horse-bit.”

The Evening “Giuseppe’s” Ensemble

• The Top: A “fresh” golf polo (if the day one got wine on it, because it did) or a Western-style button-down with pearl snaps. The shirt is heavily starched.

• The Denim: Creased Blue Jeans. These are “nice” jeans. They feature a razor-sharp vertical crease down the center of each leg.

• The Belt: A thick, embossed leather belt with a “modest” silver buckle (about the size of a beer coaster).

• The Footwear: He swaps the Italian loafers for polished Square-Toe Cowboy Boots or “dress” sneakers with the white soles.

Musings

“I don’t need a sommelier to tell me what’s good. My tongue works just fine, and it says this tastes like a hundred bucks. Now, where’s the tri-tip?”

“Why would I go back to Italy? The Italian food here’s just as good! Paso is the new Tuscany.”

Recent Revelations

The Wagyu Epiphany. Paso introduced him to Wagyu via a $150 “sandwich” that he references regularly. He frames this as proof that Paso “punches above its weight class,” never acknowledging that he spent the equivalent of three tasting fees on ground American Wagyu between two buns. Because Wagyu is Wagyu.

Advanced Pairing Theory. He recently “learned” that pairing Syrah with “inert cheese” topped with just a pinch of curry creates a “total explosion.” He shares this unprompted with winemakers, fellow tasters, and bartenders who are attempting to figure out in their head, “What the fuck is inert cheese?”

The Sunset Ritual

At 5:47 PM, the tasting day is done. Paso Bro climbs back into his Dodge and sets the GPS for Giuseppe’s (in Pismo, not SLO). He could drive there blindfolded, but the truck came with the nav package, and he’s going to use it.

The windows go down, as Paso Bro begins flipping through No Shoes Radio and Chris Stapleton on SiriusXM. He waves at a passing convertible full of tourists like he’s the mayor or ambassador of something.

In a way, he is.