It was a little restaurant in Puglia.

Paper tablecloths. A handwritten menu. Nothing anyone would ever put on a list. I was sitting outside, and at the table next to mine was a group of local folks who, I slowly realized, had no intention of going anywhere.

The service wasn’t slow. They weren’t waiting on food. The wine was local, the plates came out one at a time, and they just… stayed. Talking. Pouring. Letting the next thing arrive whenever it arrived.

Here’s the thing.

I photograph wine and whiskey brands for a living.

I spend my working days in cellars, in distilleries, in restaurants and behind the bar, so watching how people drink and eat is quite literally my job. And I can tell you that table was doing something most of us have never been taught to do.

It wasn’t just the time they took. It was HOW they took it.

The wine came from a few miles down the road and was chosen before anyone thought about food. There was an order to the night, even though from the outside it looked like there wasn’t one. The locals waiting for a table didn’t hover by the host stand.

They stood outside with a glass of wine, chatting, like the wait was part of the evening too.

And honestly?

Somewhere between that table in Puglia and this one, I built a whole new way of eating out.

It changes how I read a wine list, what I decide before I ever look at the food, the one thing I hunt for on every menu, and how I let a night unfold instead of racing it to the end. It’s the closest thing I’ve found to bottling what that table had.

Let me walk you through it.

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I had logged onto my site one day and realized the WHOLE thing had broken.

Elementor pushed an update and added a line of code they never told anyone about. My website went from looking “fine” to looking like a Jackson Pollock painting.

It was horrendous.

I panicked. I was frantically calling and emailing their support, YouTube-ing fixes, trying to find SOMETHING that would work. Their support was terrible, and I had no idea what to do.

So if building your website feels like the hardest part of starting your photo business, I get it. But I’ll say this plainly: if one page takes you a full day, the problem isn’t you. It’s the tool.

I’ve Tried Them All

Wix. WordPress. Elementor. Squarespace. GoDaddy. My very first blog ran on a Pipdig theme.

Almost every one of them gave me a headache. None of them felt like “me.” And I always felt like I was spending more time building my website than booking clients.

That’s a hobby, not a business.

And Elementor wasn’t even my only problem. Not long before the meltdown, someone landed on my site and made me realize my positioning wasn’t clear. The marketer in me ABSOLUTELY hated that.

So here’s where I was:

• My website wasn’t clear.

• It broke without warning.

• Building ONE page took me over a day.

Something had to give.

Why I Needed an Editorial Site, Not Just a Simple One

I shoot for wine and spirits brands, distributors, bottle shops, and restaurants in Miami. That industry (especially in this city) moves FAST, but it’s built on heritage, and luxury clients judge you by your site before they ever see a gallery.

A basic template site doesn’t get you hired by a Michelin-level restaurant.

When I switched to Showit almost four years ago, I wanted two things: a page I could build in under 20 minutes, and a site as editorial as a Vogue magazine.

Buy the Template. Then Tear It Apart.

The Tonic Site Shop templates got me in the door.

Four years later, I’ve outgrown full template pages entirely. I pull the sections I love, copy and paste them wherever I want, and build every new page like it’s a PowerPoint.

Remember that under-20-minute page goal?

That’s just a Tuesday now.

Here’s my hot take: templates are a starting point, not a finish line. If you never leave yours, your site looks exactly like everyone else’s who bought the same one.

Showit Didn’t Fix My Positioning. It Just Stopped Hiding It.

Here’s the part nobody tells you. A new platform won’t fix a muddy message.

Once the tool stopped fighting me, I couldn’t blame the tool anymore, so I fixed the actual problem. A big part of this was joining The Freelance Photographer, and REALLY locking in on the type of business I wanted to build - but that’s its own post.

Make sure you subscribe so you don’t miss it.

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Now my site feels like flipping through Vogue. You don’t notice the website at all. You notice the work, and you know exactly how to reach me.

But pretty sites don’t pay the bills.

Behind the scenes, mine is running my business. Clients book through the contact form. Readers join my email list. Flodesk, HoneyBook, and my Substack all plug right in.

And when something does break?

Showit’s support team is amazing, and they’re FAST.

After my Elementor meltdown, that alone was worth the switch.

The One Thing I’d Change

Is it perfect? No.

You can’t stack URLs, so I can’t do gretchenreese.com/portfolio/client-name for client galleries. I’ve requested that feature about five times. Still waiting.

If that’s my biggest complaint, I’ll take it.

How to Start Your Photography Website on Showit

1. Take the free month. Build a real page before you pay a dime.

2. Start with a template, but plan to outgrow it. Find the sections you love, not the full page.

3. Organize your media gallery first. Trust me, the more organized your photos are, the faster your site comes together.

Then just play. The SEO and site settings are simple, and you’ll figure it out a whole heck of a lot faster than you think.

Grab your free month of Showit

Yes, that’s my affiliate link. Even without the URL stacking abilities, I’m all in.

Stop Fighting Your Website

My website works for me now, which means my energy goes into building my social and my email list instead of babysitting my own site.

This is The Shot List, where I break down how I actually build this business: the tools, the systems, and the mistakes I made so you don’t have to. But if you want to see what actually happens on set, Back of House is where all the fun stuff lives.

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And it was right about the moment I realized Willett isn’t just another stop on the Bourbon Trail.

Here’s the thing most people don’t know: a LOT of the bourbon you love is owned by a big conglomerate. Willett isn’t. It’s been family-owned since Thompson Willett founded it in 1936, and it’s one of the few left on the trail that hasn’t sold out.

That alone made it worth the drive.

But it’s not why I’m still thinking about it.

The Bottle That Started It All

My first Willett pour was the Pot Still Reserve, nearly 5 years ago now. It’s full of flavor, it’s definitely a sipper, and it’s got that little bit of fire I usually only find in a good rye.

And it’s kept my attention ever since.

So when I met the Willett marketing team at a Women Who Whiskey event in Minneapolis and they said, “Come see us in Kentucky,” I didn’t need to be asked twice.

(Full transparency: my tour was comped. My opinions are, as always, ALL mine.)

Grain to Glass, Minus the Boring Parts

The vats are alive. They’d just added yeast to one of the fermentation vats, and as we were finishing up talking about it, the whole thing started bubbling and took off right in front of us. Sweet, malty, fermenting grain. If you know, you know. (And if you don’t, you NEED to smell it once in your life! There’s really nothing like it.)

The still is MASSIVE. The pot still is about two stories tall, and down at the bottom of the distillery, it’s surprisingly loud. We’re talking - mic’d up, still needed to shout, could barely hear loud. Whiskey making certainly isn’t for the faint of heart…or the easily over-stimulated.

The cuts are everything. Every run gets split into heads, hearts and tails, and only the hearts are the good stuff. Get the cuts right, and you’ve got a whiskey that packs a punch. Get them wrong, and you’ve got a headache from your first sip. Head-heavy blends, I’m looking at you!

130 Degrees and Fourteen Years

The rick houses are painted black, and the top floors can hit 130 degrees. The windows and doors stay open to keep the air moving and cut down on the angel’s share, the whiskey that evaporates out of the barrel while it ages.

The lower floors stay cooler, so the whiskey matures slowly and gently: softer, rounder, more mellow. The upper floors get HOT, so the whiskey pushes deeper into the wood and pulls out more caramel, vanilla, spice and oak. The proof creeps up, too.

(Which is exactly why the upper-floor barrels tend to be my favorites!)

Some of the barrels in there had been resting for six years. Some for fourteen.

Let that sink in the next time you knock back a pour.

Through the Lens

This is the part I’ll be thinking about for a while.

The first floor of the rick house is dark, but the light that comes in hits the chains and the wood in a way that feels almost nostalgic. Look out through the screened door, and you see rows of rick houses, a little pond and a ridiculously sunny Kentucky sky.

No filter needed.

We ended exactly where my Willett story started: with a pour of the Pot Still Reserve and a piece of dark chocolate.

Full circle moment - in the very best way.

Now, I was lucky to have a friend with me who swapped glasses with me for the four tour pours so I could try them all.

One of them they call "the trouble maker." Another one came with me to Miami. Here's which ones are worth your money:

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The woman at the bar by herself was a punchline, or a cautionary tale. So the first time I ever ate by myself at a restaurant, I did what I thought you were supposed to do: I brought my phone and stayed on it the entire time, as if I needed to look busy to justify being there.

But since that first glass of champagne in a small East London restaurant, here’s what I’ve learned: eating alone isn’t sad at all.

It’s just been given a stereotype.

Somewhere along the way, we decided that being by yourself in public must mean something has gone wrong. I know folks that will offer up a reason for it ALL the time.

“Well, maybe they’re just traveling for work.”

As if a woman sitting alone with a glass of wine needs an explanation.

But I think it goes deeper than dining. A lot of people aren’t just afraid to eat alone. They’re afraid to be out in the world and simply exist by themselves.

And of course, life is more fun with the people you love. But sometimes that isn’t possible.

And I realized that if I waited for someone to join me every single time, I would never do anything I wanted to do.

That might sound a little bullish. But it’s true.

It’s true when you go to a music festival by yourself, like I did last week. And it’s true when you move to a new city alone, like I did yesterday. Even if you know a few people there, you’re still doing it alone.

You’re not waiting for someone to make it okay, or to give you permission.

So, slowly, a table for one became a ritual.

And what I didn’t expect was that being comfortable alone would turn out to be the very thing that keeps me from feeling alone.

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When someone at a wine shop says “natural wine,” do you know what they actually mean?

Because here’s the thing. Half the people saying it can’t define it either. And that’s not a dig at anyone - it’s just accurate. There’s no legal definition. No governing body, no official certification, no stamp of approval. Just a loose, vibes-based consensus that’s been picked up by sommeliers, Instagram aesthetics, and the guy at every dinner party who needs you to know he only drinks skin-contact orange wine now.

So before we can even have this conversation, we need to actually talk about what it is.

The Basics of Natural Wine

At its core, natural wine means minimal intervention. Organic or biodynamic grapes. Wild or ambient yeast – the stuff that already lives in the air and on the grape skins, not a commercially cultivated strain added in to guarantee a consistent ferment. Little to no additives. Little to no added sulfites.

That last one matters more than most people realize. Conventional wine is legally allowed up to 72 additives. Seventy-two. Most people genuinely have no idea. They think wine is grapes and time. It’s often a lot more than that.

Sulfites are what most winemakers use to stabilize and preserve wine – to make sure the bottle you open in Minnesota tastes exactly like the one someone opened in London last Tuesday. Natural winemakers largely skip that step, or use it very sparingly. Which is why natural wine can be wildly unpredictable from bottle to bottle, vintage to vintage, sometimes even glass to glass.

That unpredictability is a feature for some people and a bug for others. Think farmers market tomato versus grocery store tomato. One is engineered for consistency, shelf stability, and broad appeal. The other might be the best thing you’ve tasted all summer – or it might be mealy and weird. It’s the same kind of thing.

The range in natural wine is enormous. It can be crisp and clean and mineral-driven. It can be funky in ways that are genuinely hard to describe without using the word “barnyard.” It can taste almost cidery, almost sour, and slightly fizzy when you were NOT expecting that. The texture is often different too – less polished, less round, more alive in a way. It might be cloudy. It might look like a smoothie. That’s not always a bad sign.

When people say “funky,” by the way, they usually mean something in the neighborhood of earth, cheese rind, wet hay, the smell you get after a big rain storm. It’s not funky like bad – it’s funky like interesting, if you’re into that. Which not everyone is, and that’s totally normal.

Natural wine was never designed for the masses. That’s intentional. It’s also half the appeal and half the problem.

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Most of them just haven’t noticed yet.

When dinner can show up at your door in thirty minutes and you can grab it in a pair of sweatpants, going out stops being the default. It becomes a choice. Every time someone books a table, gets dressed, and walks through your door, they’re choosing YOU over the couch.

Which means the in-person experience has to be worth it. Every. Single. Time.

Not to add any pressure, but hey - that’s just the way it goes.

We’re living in a convenience culture.

DoorDash, Uber Eats, Grubhub, Deliveroo, or whatever delivery app they’ll come up with next. You can get whatever you want at the snap of your fingers, straight to your door. And while that sounds nice on the outside, I think that convenience is quietly taking away the nuance, the care, and the connection that make a meal feel special.

If you’re opening a restaurant, cocktail bar, or any hospitality space right now, every single detail needs to be impeccable.

Not just at the soft opening.

Not just on a Friday night.

ALWAYS.

The lighting. The menus. The way your team greets someone at the door, and the way they say goodbye. Because the places that will see their bookings increase for the next few years won’t be the most convenient ones.

They’ll be the ones that make people feel something.

And the ones getting it right are already proving it.

At Boia De in Miami, if you order a bottle of wine and it’s not what you thought it would be, you’re not stuck with it. You finish your glass, they take the bottle away, and they bring you a different one. Then they serve that first bottle by the glass to other guests for the rest of the night.

No awkwardness. No guilt. Just a team that genuinely cares whether you enjoy your night.

At Macchialina, you’re surrounded by warm lighting - even if you’re sitting at the bar - and you’re able to speak to the bartender about their wine and spirits program, how they select each bottle that comes through their doors.

I always notice when the full team has the same level of education that the program director or the executive chef does - and it always leaves me curious about what they’ll do next and when I can book a time to come back and find out.

But here’s the thing: not every elevated spot gets it right.

One of my favorite cocktail bars lost me for good in a single moment, and it had nothing to do with the food or the drinks.

So let’s talk about what actually separates the places you’ll remember forever from the ones you’ll forget by Tuesday. What I notice the second I walk into a room as someone who photographs these spaces for a living. Why QR code menus NEED to go. And if you own or operate a spot, exactly what I’d get right before you open your doors.

Because getting it right isn’t about one grand gesture. It’s about a hundred tiny ones.

And getting it wrong?

Sometimes that only takes one time.

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At Whiskey Washback in New York City, people were walking up to their booth just because of the photos. They didn’t know the distillery. They didn’t know the whiskey. They saw the imagery and wanted to know what this place was all about.

That’s the WHOLE point of a brand campaign. And honestly?

It’s the best compliment I could have asked for.

One of the most iconic images from the shoot was of Ashten, one of our models, sitting in the middle of a rye field in a golden dress that matched her hair. Every color and tone in the frame blended right into the grain around her. Literally, a master colorist in NYC couldn't have done it better.

That shot is still one of the visuals that lives rent-free in my mind.

But here’s what most people don’t know: this campaign almost looked COMPLETELY different.

Our original idea was a sauna-themed shoot in middle of Minnesota winter. Instead, we ended up on the sixth-generation family farm roughly ten miles from the Canadian border that’s home to Far North - with twelve models, two eight-hour shoot days, and a setup so simple you might not even believe me when I tell you what it was.

That single shoot became the anchor for a full website refresh, a martini bar campaign, a live events strategy, AND social media content that’s still going strong nine months later.

It also involved a gust of wind, a soaked tablecloth, a dead lighting set-up, and an iPhone flashlight saving the day (thank goodness!).

But more on that later.

So how did a one-woman setup pull all of that off? Let me take you back to the farm, from the exact gear in my bag to the scene that almost didn’t happen.

Behind the Scenes

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This is the dish I make when I want a dinner to feel special. Candles lit, a bottle open on the counter, butter browning in the pan, and sage crackling as it hits the heat. It makes your kitchen smell like salt and butter with just a kiss of herbs and citrus, and when I tell you my mouth is watering just writing this, you’d better believe it.

It’s also come highly requested from friends when they come over for dinner… even when they had it the last time they came over, too.

What’s on the plate

Meet my brown-butter sage tagliolini. It’s a rustic pasta with crispy fried sage leaves, super salty guanciale (the real star of the show here), warming spices, a bit of lemon and TONS of fresh 36-month parmigiano. Duh. It’s rich in flavor, but light on the palate - and when I tell you it takes maybe 20 minutes to make, you might not believe me…BUT I can guarantee that the people you serve this to will be dreaming about it days later.

How to Pair It

Now, you could go one of two ways with this one - you could play into the subtle warming notes of the spice blend OR you could play into the zestiness of the citrus.

If you wanted to go for the lighter, brighter side - a Rosso di Montepulciano would be my pick for you. It usually runs a little bright and juicy, with a beautiful acidity to it (it comes from being a younger wine) and you get a lot of red currant and cranberry that’ll pair incredibly well with the lemon on this plate. It has just enough body to hold its own with the guanciale, and that acidity cuts right through the richness without overwhelming the dish, which makes it the perfect companion.

But let’s say you wanted to lean into the warming spices. Maybe you want to go for something that feels like it’s been aged a little bit longer and doesn’t have the tang of a younger wine. My two picks for you would be an Amarone or a Super Tuscan. High in concentration of flavors, heavy on the raisin, black currant and chocolate notes - these are two wines that would elevate the warming spices on this plate and bring them to an entirely new level.

Below, I'm sharing the full recipe (yes, the 20-minute version) and the exact bottles I'd pour with it.

Full Recipe & Wine Pairing Breakdown

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Each neighborhood has a very distinct personality when it comes to food – and because there’s so many options, especially if you’re looking for the Michelin Guide. This past week, I’ve been eating my way through Downtown Miami, and what I’ve noticed is that this is the place you go if you want smaller, more intimate hidden gems.

They’ve got smaller dining rooms, less tables, and that “new discovery” feeling every time you walk in the door.

Tâm Tâm

A Michelin Bib Gourmand-winning Vietnamese drinking food and wine bar very close to Brickell, Tâm Tâm is a cozy corner-spot well known for, and I quote, their “erotic” pork ribs, wings that are to die for and lamb skewers that make you salivate just thinking about them. And while I didn’t get the chance to try the pork ribs – I did get a chance to try a few of their other smaller plates and the lamb.

Picking a favorite, the lamb takes the cake for me – but the wings were a VERY close second. Granted, I am a meat lover – so take that as you will. Paired with a chilled Barbera blend, it was the perfect way to explore Vietnamese food with a new lens. Definitely will be going back.

Niu Kitchen

Tucked away in the heart of Downtown Miami, Niu Kitchen has spent the last three years on the Michelin Guide but still feels like a local neighborhood best-kept secret. They’re known for Old World Spanish foods and flavors, natural and biodynamic wines and of course, their Oyster plates.

Now, I’m not much of a seafood gal, so while that didn’t tempt me – the special that’s been on the menu for the last ten years certainly did. Truffle and potato foam, poached eggs, crispy Iberico ham and truffle oil on the top, all paired with a glass of Cava brut. I love that Niu Kitchen still has that “fresh discovery” feel about it, even though it’s gotten a lot of accolades and attention. The wine list is thoughtful and well-curated, AND I even tried my first-ever orange wine there. Which, yes, as a wine photographer – I do need to step up my game in that department.

Rosaluna

This is my little favorite find from when I was in Miami last January. It’s Italian comforts with a twist, think Nonna’s classic recipes in the heart of Miami. It’s not always busy for dinner, due to the location in a business campus, but it’s one that you can’t miss out on if you’re looking for a small intimate spot with flavors that’ll leave you dreaming about them long after you leave.

I can’t get enough of their fried zucchini flowers, it’s a favorite of mine from when I used to live in Italy. Ricotta, lemon and tomato on the inside – it’s perfection, if you ask me. Seasonally rotating pasta, a pistachio cheesecake, and a wine line list that would make anyone swoon – it’s a spot I consistently come back to and am always glad when I do.

ViceVersa

Tucked away in the Elser Hotel, but by no means a secret, Vice Versa is THE spot to go if you want one of two things: 1) a negroni to die for, and 2) a smashburger to write home about. Yes, it even convinced me - the Midwestern Jucy Lucy lover - to give it a go.

Whenever I’m missing the pillowy pizza dough of Southern Italy, Vice Versa is a go-to spot for me. Now, I’m a classic Margherita gal, but the ever-changing menu helps you break out of the concrete box when (and if) you ever need to. Plus, it also just won Best Hotel Bar, so I can almost guarantee you won’t leave disappointed.

Stay tuned for more Miami eats, downtown & otherwise.

With love,

But that didn’t happen by accident.

A successful shoot isn’t about getting more photos. It’s about having the right plan in place before you take any.

I still get inquiries in my inbox where the biggest concern is that their last photographer only gave them enough content for three weeks after the shoot.

Stressful? Yes. Avoidable? Also yes.

Here’s what I stopped letting my clients do before shoot day that got us to nine months of content:

#1 Hand me a Pinterest board and calling it a brief.

Pinterest tells me what you like - but it’s NOT a shot list.

A Pinterest board is inspiration.

A shot list is the strategy.

One shows what looks pretty, the other tells you what to shoot, why, AND who it’s for. Confuse the two and you walk into a shoot with a folder of screenshots. And you walk out with a gallery that doesn’t actually SAY anything.

#2 Describe your customer as “millennials who like nice things” instead of having a specific person in mind.

Demographics are a starting point, not a finish line. When you’re planning your next shoot, you need to get SO specific about who exactly it is that you’re targeting.

Even the details that seem so small - those are probably the most important.

It’s what sets your content apart. Instead of “Oh! That’s pretty,” it becomes, “Wow! That was made for me.”

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#3 Ask for a shot list that’s really 40 variations of the same photo

That’s what’ll have you burn through a gallery in weeks, not months. I know we all love a beautiful photo, but I’m not going to give you 40 shots of basically the same frame. That doesn’t help you at all.

#4 Treat product shots and lifestyle shots like two separate jobs instead of a continuous story

Every shot should feel like it speaks with your brand voice - from internal sales decks to e-commerce to social media. They have separate jobs - but they’re still telling the same story for your brand, and there should ALWAYS be a golden thread connecting every single image together.

#5 Book a shoot with no plan for how to use the gallery after

This is where you end up with pretty photos instead of strategic assets - and I don’t want that for you. This is the shift that I move my clients towards. From “we’ll figure it out” to confidently walking into shoot day with a plan that carries them well into the next quarter, and sometimes, like Far North, well beyond it. From guessing what to shoot to knowing exactly what you need and why.

We plan exactly how the images will be used before they’re even created - and you won’t even know what a ghosted Dropbox folder feels like ever again.

If you want to walk into your next shoot day with a REAL plan and no guesswork, I created a step by step guide called The Anchor Point Method to help you. It’s the exact steps I take leading up to every client shoot - from campaign planning, to behind the scenes management.

You can grab it here.

With love,

It started in January, leaving a relationship that no longer fit the path my life was taking, struggling with my relationship with my faith and finally stepping into myself fully, without holding anything back.

Now, there’s one saying that’s taken me through a good portion of this season, and it’s this:

In the last ten months, I’ve ended a four year relationship, fallen in love, travelled to a new city, revitalized a business, had my heart broken and healed, rebuilt a stronger relationship with my faith and traditional values, AND decided to move. Twice.

Now, if that’s not a lot - I don’t know what is.

If you’re wondering how I’ve kept my head on straight through everything, here’s the honest answer:

It wasn’t simple, it wasn’t linear, and it CERTAINLY wasn’t easy.

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This week Frame the Flavor flips the script. Instead of me interviewing a guest, my friend Caroline West, founder of the Minneapolis-based marketing studio Harvin Dutch, is turning the mic on me. We get into branding, photography, usage rights, and why "millennials who like nice things" is not a customer persona no matter how many mood boards say otherwise.

We talk about the difference between studio shots and lifestyle photography, why flatlays tank on social, and why I think most brands are shooting the product before they've figured out who's actually holding the bottle. Caroline and I also dig into licensing and usage rights, the part of this industry nobody explains clearly until you've already messed it up. Spoiler: paying for a shoot gets you access to the images, not ownership of them.

We close out talking about what's next for me, why I refuse to work on anything I'm not a little bit in love with, and the big life update I've been sitting on.

If you've ever wondered what actually goes into building a cohesive brand, how usage rights work, or what it's like being the one answering questions instead of asking them, this one's for you.

WHERE TO FIND ME:

@gretchen_reese on Instagram

www.gretchenreese.com

CAROLINE WEST:

@harvindutch

www.harvindutch.com

RESOURCES:

Get one month FREE of ShowIt with code 'gretchenreese'

Get 15% off SITEWIDE at Tonic Site Shop with code 'gretchen15'

This is a family owned whiskey distillery out of California that treats their Adventure Series like a mad science lab. We're talking honey barrel finishes that took months to figure out, mash bills built with heirloom red corn, and a totally unpeated American single malt that somehow still tastes like Scotch. Clayton doesn't color inside the lines unless he wants to, and that's the whole point.

We also get into some stuff that NOBODY is talking about yet in the whiskey space. Like how Ozempic and other GLP-1 drugs are quietly reshaping the entire alcohol industry, and how the private equity boom that flooded the market with barrels is finally starting to bust. If you've ever wondered why your favorite bottle got harder to find or why some brands seem to be scrambling right now, this conversation will make a lot more sense.

By the end you'll understand why breaking from tradition isn't a gimmick for Devil's Creek. It's the business model, and it's working.

If you love whiskey, bourbon, or just good stories about people who build something from scratch, this one's for you.

WHERE TO FIND ME:

@frametheflavorpodcast

@gretchen_reese

gretchenreese.com

DEVIL'S CREEK DISTILLERY:

@devilscreekdistillery

www.devilscreekdistillery.com

RESOURCES:

Get one month free with Showit!

30% off of your first year of Honeybook

Retropia Vintage Lens

In this episode, I'm breaking down the real differences between drinking whiskey neat, on the rocks, and in a cocktail — what each method actually does to the flavor, when one makes more sense than the others, and why the "correct" way to drink whiskey is honestly a myth designed to make people feel insecure at bars. Whether you're a whiskey beginner trying to figure out how to order or a self-proclaimed connoisseur ready to fight me in the comments, this one's for you.

Spoiler: there's no wrong answer. Except maybe one.

WHERE TO FIND ME:

@frametheflavorpodcast

@gretchen_reese

gretchenreese.com

RESOURCES:

Get one month free with Showit!

30% off of your first year of Honeybook

Retropia Vintage Lens

EPISODE RESOURCES:

Grab your free month of Showit with code GRETCHENREESE

Get 30% off of your first year of Honeybook

The great debate on natural wines: Read the Article

But here’s where most people stop: they know the names.

“Go here for Chianti, go there for Prosecco.”

That’s tourist-brochure knowledge. It’s fine. It’s not technically incorrect. It’s also not really anything other than a HUGE generalization.

What I actually want you to understand is why. Why you can only grow certain grapes in certain places. Why the same grape grown thirty miles apart can taste like two completely different things. Why each region is so unique. Why certain foods bring out certain flavors in wines better than others.

Because once you get that, the region stops being a checklist of names you’re supposed to nod along to at dinner and starts actually making sense in a way that doesn’t feel too out of touch.

Chianti Classico: the original, not the imitation

This is the heart of it. The real zone, sitting between Florence and Siena, built almost entirely around Sangiovese. The reason it tastes the way it does isn’t random — it’s the soil, the elevation, centuries of producers figuring out exactly what this grape wants on this exact hillside.

Look for the Black Rooster. Gallo Nero. That’s your sign you’re in the real deal, not just a bottle that slapped “Chianti” on the label because it sounded fancy and Italian and vaguely expensive.

And if you see Gran Selezione? That’s the top of the top. Single-vineyard, estate-selected, aged a minimum of 30 months. If you’re going to spend a little extra anywhere in this category, that’s where I’d put my money.

Every. Single. Time.

Brunello di Montalcino: not a casual Tuesday wine

If Chianti Classico is the heart, Brunello is the crown, and it absolutely knows it.

Same general grape family, but the rules around it are no joke. Legally required to age at least five years before it’s even allowed out of the building. But trust me, this is one that’s definitely worth the wait.

These wines do not want to be rushed. They want a real decant and a meal that deserves the occasion, not leftover pizza on the couch.

When these wines are done right? Dried cherry, leather, tobacco, dried roses, and a mineral thing happening that makes them feel ancient in the best possible way. LOVE.

Vino Nobile di Montepulciano: the one nobody’s talking about enough

I will say this loudly and as often as I have to: this wine deserves so much more attention than it gets.

Same Sangiovese family, different town, completely different price point. Softer than Brunello, just as elegant, without the Brunello-sized bill.

Think of it as the “we’re not exclusive yet, but I’m into you” of Tuscan reds. All the chemistry, none of the commitment.

Although, you might rethink the commitment thing once you get a taste of this one. Just saying.

Super Tuscans: the wines that broke the rules on purpose

This is my favorite story in all of Tuscan wine, hands down. In the 1970s, the Antinori family made a wine called Sassicaia using Cabernet Sauvignon, which absolutely was not what you were “supposed” to plant in Tuscany. Then came Tignanello, blending Sangiovese with Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc, because apparently the rulebook was more of a suggestion.

Neither wine fit the existing classification. So Italy did the only thing its bureaucracy knew how to do: it labeled them as basic table wine. Same tier as the cheapest bottle on a gas station shelf.

And then they became some of the most expensive, most sought-after bottles in the entire country. Sometimes the rules just need someone arrogant enough to ignore them, delusionally confident enough to follow through, and it works out SO well.

Why any of this actually matters

Once you understand the why behind these regions instead of just memorizing the names, everything clicks differently. You stop ordering wine because the label looked pretty and start ordering it because you actually know what you’re getting into.

That’s the whole idea here.

I’m not a sommelier and I’m not pretending to be one.

If this made you want to understand your next bottle instead of just guessing and hoping for the best?

That’s exactly the point.

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At least, I hope you wouldn’t.

Typically, I would assume you’re looking for a little bit of consistency - whether it’s showing up for you, a regular phone call, texts here and there that let you know they’re thinking about you, shared values - that sort of thing.

If this is what you look for when you’re dating someone new - why is it that your brand evolves EVERY few months when you feel like something’s not working?

New personality. New colors. New fonts.

This week you’re “luxury and elevated.” The next you’re “raw and real.” Then you’re chasing a trend because someone else’s reel went viral.

The metaphorical “bangs” chop that every girl can relate to.

But here’s the thing about dating and branding: people don’t fall for the most polished version of you. They fall for the most consistent one. The person - or brand - that shows up the same way, again and again, until showing up that way becomes a personality trait people trust.

Read more

Well, hear me out.

I’m big on body language. On-set, in-person, behind the lens. Not being able to read it makes such a big difference in how campaign imagery is perceived, it’s not even funny.

Sure, they look cool - but is it worth campaign conversions?

Nope, didn’t think so.

Read more

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Beginnings are hard.

At least, that’s what the Substack original heading tells me. Initial thoughts aside, I wanted to start sharing my tips that I’m using to build and grow my photography business that don’t cost a crazy amount of cash or make you want to pull your hair out.

Because let’s be real here - sometimes figuring that out on your own does kind of make you want to scream a little bit.

Just me?

Just so you know, I’m the type of gal who:

• Doesn’t LOVE to spend a ton of time online, so the time I do spend needs to count

• Loves to be creative, won’t do stupid internet dances for attention

• Big fan of growth, but doesn’t love digging into analytics

If this resonates with you at all, this is probably for you.

Cheers!

Spoiler alert: the answer isn't one-size-fits-all.

I'm diving into what each style brings to the table—and which one actually performs better depending on your brand goals, audience, and where you're showing up online. From romantic vineyard scenes that feel like they're straight out of a movie to moody bar moments, polished product close-ups on a clean background, or something with a little more flair, this episode gets into the details on how to use visual storytelling as a strategic tool for brands.

The Key Takeaways:

• The primary differences between lifestyle vs. still life product photography

• When to use each photo style based on your audience and brand values

• Why mixing both styles might be the most powerful approach for your brand

• Photography tips for keeping your visuals on-brand and conversion-driven

Whether you're curating your next photoshoot or building a new website, this episode will help you frame your bottles—and your brand—in a way that sells and tells a story. Which is kind of the whole point, right?

Connect With Me:

www.gretchenreese.com

@gretchen_reese

@frametheflavorpodcast

www.frametheflavor.com