Meet The Cork Dork: AKA Kristina Maloney

Wine has always been in my life. As a child, I grew up in a neighborhood where the guy across the street made his own wine. He owned two large oak barrels and all the accouterments to make a batch of wine. All of the neighbors would share the costs and participate in this yearly ritual. We would all get together to celebrate when the grapes were crushed, during intermittent testing of the wine's aging progress and ultimately when the wine was ready to be officially consumed.   

My parents would stash away Ernest & Julio Gallo jugs (yep, those giant glass ones that weighed a ton) for refills. Whenever they needed wine, we would have the appropriate vessel to take part in the delicious wine harvest. A Tupperware pitcher was sometimes also employed. Not glamorous, but very practical. Every participating neighbor got their respective share. Our winemaking neighbor's garage was always open, so everyone had access to the basement club house where the magic elixir was stored. 

Wine was always at the dinner table. I wasn’t a tiny sommelier swirling and sniffing at age 10. I was more of a proud Kool-Aid and Orange Crush connoisseur. Still, the wine was always there, part of the backdrop of my daily life of family dinners and celebrations.     

 Fast-forward to adulthood, and I finally had my own ID that let me legally order wine in public. But to me, the world of wine I lived in at this time felt like an expensive luxury; something reserved for anniversaries or tax refunds. The bottom shelf at the wine shop offered some “student-budget options,” but they tasted more like grown-up juice boxes than actual wine.    

 
Then there were the Serious Wine People. You know the type: The ones who swirl like some stage performer, throw out vineyard names like they’re close personal friends with the winemaker, and make sure everyone at the table knows they spent $300 on a bottle ('worth every penny'). I wanted no part of that smug swirl-and-brag club.  This was all during the nearly 20 years I was living in southern California.   

 My brother was living in the northern part of California, very close to this magical land called Napa. I would visit this magical kingdom on occasion. I loved the wine, but hated the pretentious price tag that was the required entry fee to experience this world of the beautiful Serious Wine People.   

At the time, my future husband introduced me to his friend who was a sommelier at a very lavish, upscale restaurant in Los Angeles. He would present a plate of mac and cheese with truffles and a glass of Meursault. With a twinkle in his eye, he explained where this wine came from (the Burgundy region of France, by the way), and why it makes the plate of food in front of me so much more enjoyable. He lit up talking about something he genuinely loved, and I was captivated. I definitely could taste the buttery hazelnut flavor he was describing. I was fascinated about all the little details, like how the wood of the barrel gave it a subtle vanilla flavor. 

Tell me more!   

I would read everything I could find about wine. I was also lucky to be living near a variety of wine stores that ran the gamut from high end markets to discount grocery stores. I made many acquaintances with wine superheroes on staff and found that they loved to share their knowledge.... especially with someone so eager to learn. My husband and I didn't have the budget (nor did we want to spend the required financial resources) to take wine tasting and education to the next level.   

This pushed my creatively into overdrive. I would research and watch for sales, join the girls at the restaurant that offered half off bottles on certain days, or attend the free or discounted events at the wine stores I frequented.  

One day, after we moved to south Florida, my husband and I received a $100 gift card to Total Wine & More, a local wine mega-store near our house. My mind immediately took the economical route - “We could buy 10 bottles of wine with this card!”. My husband took quality over quantity and suggested - “Why don't we see what a $100 bottle of wine tastes like?”  WHAT!?!  We would NEVER spend $100 on a single bottle of wine. NEVER!      

But.... this was a gift. Free money. Let's do it!   

If you have ever been in a Total Wine & More establishment, you are well aware of the grand scale and sheer amount of wine that fill the endless shelves. It can be very overwhelming. My husband and I divided to conquer our search for a $100 bottle of wine.   

I came across a superhero working in the “Italian” section of wines and struck up a conversation about what was new and what should I try (I never mentioned our $100 budget). There was the twinkle in his eye I recognized! Apparently, the store recently received a very small shipment of  a red wine called Brunello di Montalcino.  This was a Riserva from the Renieri winemakers and had received a 100 point designation from James Suckling. I'll talk about wine ratings in a future blog, but just know that 100 points is a big deal (heck, 92 points is a big deal, so finding 100 points is like a unicorn sighting.). He led me to the shelf, and wouldn't you know it - the price tag was $100. SOLD.

With this purchase in hand we weren't simply going to drink the wine... it had to be an experience! Our wine superhero at the store made some suggestions about the steps we should do in tasting the wine. First, we were to try just a sip of the wine as soon as we got home. Next, we were to take another sip after aerating it in a decanter and slightly chilling it. Finally, we were to prepare a meal and see how the flavor of this wine opened, how the flavor changed and how did it enhance the meal.   

Oh yeah... what to eat?   

We were recommended wild boar or braised lamb, which sounded dangerously close to entering that “pretentious” part of wine tasting I detest. Also, preparing wild boar or braised lamb is not really in my culinary wheelhouse.  I asked if he had other suggestions. Yes, steak in fact. A nice ribeye steak. Well I could do that!  And we did, along with some mushrooms, a starter of some aged Tuscan cheese and a square of dark chocolate for dessert.   

My husband and I loved the process of choosing the wine, creating a menu, shopping, cooking together and learning about wine. We turned it into a weekly date night. We would take turns picking the wine or the region or even what we were going to eat, and we would build the evening around it. This event was the inspiration for my Date Night section on the Cork Dork website.    

Why Cork Dork?

I blame my husband for that one. I married a musician (and an incredible one at that). I sometimes feel like he hears music in the same way we see color. It just makes sense to him on a whole other level, and he never turns it off. We could be at an appointment with some cheesy office jazz music in the background, and he'll feel the need to inform me that the song we were hearing contained a chord progression utilizing modal interchange (like you, I have no idea what that means). 

“You're a dork,” I would always affectionately tell him. 

He would return the favor. I have always loved graphic design and so I would point out random facts, like font face and the clever use of spacing and drop shadows on billboards or on something he was reading. “You're a dork” he would say. “I know” would always be my response. To me 'dork' or 'dorking out' was always expressing something you are passionate about... even when nobody around understands or appreciates it. I am a dork about wine. I just love it – learning about it, talking about it and, of course, drinking it. I created this site just as another way to dork out about it. I hope you enjoy it too. 

My husband and I now live in Portugal, and we’ve fallen head over heels for the people, the pace of life and the sense of community that runs through everything here. Wine isn’t just something you drink in Portugal...  it’s a part of the rhythm of everyday life. It’s poured at long lunches, shared among friends at tiny cafe tables and deeply woven into the country’s landscape, history, and identity. 

What struck me most, coming from the U.S., was how refreshingly unpretentious it all is. Gone were the overpriced bottles, the intimidating jargon and the pressure to 'know your stuff.' Here, wine is something to enjoy, not perform or impress others. It’s delicious, accessible, grounded in real stories — of families, regions, and centuries-old traditions. 

That shift completely changed how I relate to wine, and it’s what inspired me to create Cork Dork. I wanted a space where others could learn without judgment, explore without pressure and have fun doing it. Portugal has shown me that wine doesn’t need to be fancy to be meaningful — it just needs to be shared. And that’s what I hope to do with Cork Dork: share the joy, culture and everyday beauty of Portuguese wine with anyone who’s curious.

 Saúde!