I walked into the classroom as a Texas wine fan, and walked out as the leveled-up version: A Certified Texas Wine Ambassador!
My reward for a day of attentive tasting and discussion was a snazzy certificate and a pin. Also: A permanent sense of responsibility for representing Texas wine in an industry where it’s constantly maligned and underestimated. (Hey, no pressure.)
In the past few years, Texas wine has been making great strides–both economically and in terms of quality. Texas’s wine boom has been widely reported on in the travel and leisure media. The official numbers back it up: The economic impact of Texas’s wine biz is now estimated to be over $24 billion annually.
Many other sectors of the wine industry may be shrinking, but Texas wine–driven in no small part by Hill Country tourism–is ascending.

The Texas Wine Ambassador Certification program is a project of Kelsey Kramer, DipWSET, the Director of Education at the Hill Country Wine Academy. HCWA is the educational arm of William Chris Vineyards. They host classes at their main campus in Hye, Texas, and also at the nearby Carter Creek Winery Resort in Johnson City. As of last weekend’s class, more than 600 individuals have been certified as Texas Wine Ambassadors.
There are two main reasons the course was created: First, mainstream wine curricula often have nothing to say about Texas and other emerging regions in the United States. Sometimes, not even that they exist! If you flip through a WSET Level 3 textbook, for instance, you’d think that only the West Coast and upstate New York make wine.
And secondly, the recent growth in Texas wine has resulted in lots of demand for corresponding education. For a winemaker, there’s no point in bottling great juice if communication breaks down in between the bartop and the barstool. Every Texas winery–and there are now hundreds–wants their tasting room associates and marketing folks to be able to speak with confidence about what’s coming out of those barrels and tanks.
As for me, I had a lot of reasons for choosing to take the class (hello, lapel pin!). But a big one was wanting to be able to taste and discuss Texas wine in educated company and sound like I know what the heck I’m talking about. 😊
Joining the Texas Wine Ambassador Class of 2025
And so, we assembled at the Carter Creek Winery at 9 AM to get up to speed on Texas wine. There were 25 of us–accomplished professionals, enthusiastic beginners, and everybody in between. Each seat was pre-set with wine glasses and all the other necessary items, including a comprehensive workbook for note-taking.

In this roughly 8-hour session, we took on the vast field of Texas wine. Kelsey is a gifted teacher and a knowledgeable presenter. There’s so many topics to cover, so she endeavored to squeeze in a little bit of everything: Tasting, major grapes and styles, winemaking, terroir, viticulture, history, regulation, service, and pairing. The pace was brisk and breaks were short–the better to dive into the material as deeply as possible.
We talked soil. We talked climate. We talked grafting and vineyard pests. (I couldn’t stop grinning at the highly detailed, anatomically correct whiteboard drawing of a phylloxera louse!)
A day full of maps and slide decks can be dry for some learners, so the class was peppered with illustrative demonstrations. We nibbled on grape skins and lemon wedges. We did a side-by-side comparison of Texas Mourvèdre and Spanish Monastrell. There was an experiment with blotting paper and a bittering agent to explore how widely taste sensitivity can differ, even among experienced palates.
Not everything was technical and fact-centered. A portion of the course zoomed in on the squishier, relationship-building aspects of Wine Ambassadorship. We discussed why negative myths about Texas wine persist, and how to gently push back against them. We learned how subtle cues can help you to identify where a guest is in their understanding of wine, and to meet them where they are.
I’m not in wine service at the moment, and patience with timid tasters isn’t second nature to me. I love to gab about wine and food, to analyze and review it, and to share information. (Sometimes too much information.) I have wine opinions–lots. When you’re excited about something, it can be really difficult to listen more than talk.
Mid-way through the class, Kelsey challenged us to write a three-word tasting note for each wine we tasted without using any flavor, aroma, or structural descriptors. (That exercise drove my verbose and chef-ly brain absolutely mad. I’ll come to the defense of the wordy, specific tasting note in a future post.) Still, I got the point: Sharing too much detail can constrain the experience of someone who may be encountering the wine for the first time.

The next item on the agenda was a catered lunch from Carter Creek’s restaurant. The resort was blooming with purple sage, butterflies, and hilltop breezes–but it was all business for this highly focused group. After a short recess on the lawn, it was back to our seats for more terroir talk and a few more Texas wines.
There was a final collaborative group exercise (on food pairing). Then came the short multiple-choice exam and our (instant) results. (The exam is taken on your phone and you must score at least 60% to pass.) Certificates were conferred, and a new vintage of Texas Wine Ambassadors was released out into the world.
Is Texas wine up to the challenge?
Any business writer will tell you that the problems and screw-ups are the meatiest part of a company’s or a leader’s story. The story of the Texas wine industry is no exception–and the Texas Wine Ambassador Course focused deliciously on all the roadblocks to making quality wine here.
The biggest obstacle? Climate. Every person on Earth will say that their local weather patterns are unpredictable. As humans, it’s what we do to make small talk. But Texas weather actually is bizarre. (And occasionally deadly, as this month’s Guadalupe River disaster heartbreakingly reminded us.)
Texas has heat and wind and freezes and hail and hurricanes and nine whole months of sticky humidity punctuated by alternating droughts and floods. (Don’t forget the random tornadoes and their evil broods of tornado babies.) Spring temperatures are a crapshoot. No single patch of land in Texas gets exactly the right amount of rainfall for vines at exactly the right time.

Then, there’s the market headwinds. The grapes that everyone knows and loves (supermarket heroes like Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Grigio) don’t tend to perform at their best here, often leading to consumer disappointment when these wines are uncorked. Varieties that do grow well may be unfamiliar to shoppers and diners. Variation between vintages is considerable (see “climate” above).
All of these things present a huge quandary for retailers and restaurants when they’re trying to assemble their wine lists each year. Who wants a Cabernet that tastes like fajita water instead of berries, or a Sangiovese that’s so pale and acerbic it should’ve been a rosé? Nobody–that’s who. Spend $45 for one of those bottles, and it might be a while before you’re willing to try Texas wine again.
Yet false starts are not the same thing as failure. A lot has improved (and continues to improve) in the world of Texas wines.
Wineries are getting braver about choosing varieties that are adapted to the climate. (And drinkers are catching up!) Innovative research is helping growers to overcome viticultural challenges that once seemed unsolvable. Distribution and labeling are being worked out through the (long) processes of lobbying and legislation. Over the past couple of decades, Texas has seen a bi-partisan rejection of the Prohibitionism that’s historically made it harder for wineries to cater to the their customers.
The result? Texas wines really are getting better. Consumer taste and producer accountability are improving in tandem. Less prevalent are the neon-hued, cowboy-hats-and-roses bottles of California juice with names like Sweet Southern Red. There are fewer anonymous blends on the shelves these days, and fewer shady labeling shenanigans.

Growing in prominence are the unique and expressive Texas wines: The Texas wines from unusual but adaptive grapes. The Texas wines that make you go “hmmmm” (in a good way). The Texas wines that don’t taste like wines made anywhere else in the world.
In Sunday’s class, we tasted a vibrant Albariño, a creamy, layered Roussanne, an autumnal Mourvèdre, and a dense and majestic Tannat. (See what I did there? No flavor/aroma descriptors!) All were from Texas winemakers and Texas-grown grapes.
This strong, diverse lineup mirrored the experiences I’ve had recently at Texas tasting events and wineries. Just so you know: There are very good wines being made here. They’re good in varied (and often surprising) ways.
Defining the “typical” Texas premium wine is probably a long way in the future–if indeed that’s even the goal–but the current moment is one of fruitful experimentation.
Texas wine: A long history (and a bright future)
Sitting in the Wine Ambassador class was, for me, both timely and personal. Yeah, I’m relatively new to formal wine study–but as a Texas wine drinker, there have been years of observation and hope.
I sometimes liken my support for Texas wines to that of a long-suffering fan of a losing sports team. Though I can assess them objectively, even critically–I never stop wanting them to win.

As a native Texan approaching my 40th year here, the changes I’ve seen in the wine industry are monumental. And there’s a lot of change that’s happening right now–or is just about to happen.
I think of my paternal grandfather’s (mostly unsuccessful) efforts to establish a vineyard on his post-World War II homestead in Wylie. People said grapes couldn’t grow in North Texas and he stopped trying. (Eventually, his old property fell to eminent domain and now a state highway runs through it.) As estate wineries continue to pop up between Dallas and Oklahoma, I wonder what he’d think of this region in 2025.
I remember sampling “local” wines in gift shops when traveling through the Texas Hill Country with my parents. This was usually a medium-sweet German Riesling or a California blush wine, because few production wineries were operating in central Texas at that time.
I have felt excitement–and occasionally, mixed emotions–when Texas wineries evolve beyond the quaint, good-enough-to-drink-but-barely wines I remember from the 1990s into the rarefied world of Serious Wine with its critics’ scores and wait lists.
I have heard the grief and frustration of vineyard owners who lost whole fields in the Great Texas Freeze of 2021. (It was a “once in a century” winter storm that many Texans suspect won’t be the last extreme weather event we see in our lifetimes.)
I have smiled with pride and amusement watching a suburban cowboy walk into a bar and ask for a glass of “Tempernilla” (rhymes with “vanilla”)–and insist that it be 100% Texan.
Sunday’s class provided a realistic assessment of the challenges faced by Texas wine, and also many reasons for optimism. Because of obstacles created by humans and by Nature, it’s really difficult for Texas wine people to get it right. Because of our strength, determination, and curiosity, it’s inevitable that we will get it right at least some of the time.
The story of Texas wine is an inspiring one–and it’s still being written. I heartily recommend this class to anyone who wants to deepen their understanding and appreciation of the grapes of our great state.
Also–did I mention there’s a pin? Even though I’m in the early days of my wine studies, I can already tell I have a predilection toward pin addiction. I’m going to have to actively resist the urge to collect wine certs like a Girl Scout blanketing her vest with badges.
It’s a cute pin! Whether I end up sporting it dorkily at TEXSOM next month or stuffing it shyly in a drawer forever, it’s a treasured souvenir of a weekend well spent.

What: Texas Wine Ambassador Certification Class
Where: Hill Country Wine Academy, 10352 US-290, Hye, TX 78635
Event hosted by Carter Creek Winery Resort & Spa, 4064 US-290, Johnson City, TX 78636
When: June 29, 2025 (contact Hill Country Wine Academy for future dates)
How much: $250 including course materials, exam, wine, and lunch
Wines tasted (prices are approximate retail):
Bingham Family Vineyards Albariño, Texas High Plains AVA (2021) – $34
William Chris Roussanne, La Pradera Vineyard, Texas High Plains AVA (2024) – $38
Wine for the People Dandy Rosé, Texas (2024) – $34
William Chris Mourvèdre, Texas High Plains AVA (2021) – $30
Juan Gil “Silver Label” Monastrell, Spain (2022) – $16
Grower Project “The Source” Sangiovese, Texas Hill Country AVA (2020) – $32
Lost Draw Tempranillo, Lost Draw Vineyard, Texas High Plains AVA (2021) – $52
Skeleton Key Cabernet Sauvignon, Texas (2022) – $24
Ab Astris Estate Grown Tannat, Texas Hill Country AVA (2020) – $48

Review disclosure: I was not compensated or provided any free products for this review. Opinions expressed on The Wine Fairy blog are entirely my own.
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