Kermit Lynch opens second-ever shop after 53 years
The iconic Berkeley-based wine merchant chooses Marin, San Francisco for his long-awaited second retail venture. The new shop will reflect Lynch’s signature style, with an emphasis on European terroir-driven wines.
After more than half a century, the name Kermit Lynch (pictured) is finally appearing above a second storefront. The legendary Bay Area wine importer, now 83, is opening a new shop at Marin Country Mart in Larkspur this autumn or winter, as confirmed by company president Dixon Brooke to the San Francisco Chronicle.
It will be only the second retail location in Lynch’s illustrious 53-year career. “Over the years, we’ve looked at opening a second retail location, but never found the right place,” Brooke said via email. “We’ve always felt that our strength as a retailer was building direct relationships and guiding our clients through the rewarding journey of navigating European fine wine.”
An old-world vision with modern roots
Lynch’s influence on American wine culture is hard to overstate. From his original Berkeley storefront, opened in 1972 with a US$5,000 loan and 35 cases of wine, he championed small, family-run domaines in France and Italy. By importing wines that were expressive, unmanipulated and often unknown to the American market, he carved a singular path distinct from the blockbuster California Cabernets of the time.
His vision found kinship with Alice Waters and Richard Olney, whose commitment to seasonality and authenticity echoed Lynch’s own ideals. It was Olney who introduced Lynch to Lucien and Lulu Peyraud of Domaine Tempier, with whom Lynch formed a lifelong bond. He would later co-own Domaine Les Pallières in Gigondas with the Brunier family of Domaine du Vieux Télégraphe.
Indeed, Lynch played a pivotal role in reshaping perceptions of rosé in America, introducing dry, Provençal styles at a time when the category was dismissed as unserious. As noted in the drinks business’s recent feature Is the future of rosé still rosy?, “Importers like Kermit Lynch began shifting that narrative in the late 20th century, introducing dry rosés to Americans, who, for the most part, ignored them, until they didn’t.”
From Berkeley to Bandol and back
In a 2016 Noble Rot piece, Lynch recalled a legendary night with Olney and the Peyrauds at Tempier, a heady blend of old vintages, Provençal cuisine and a “tall water glass filled with Scotch” as a final toast. “I was his nicely wined-up chauffeur,” Lynch wrote, likening the experience to an undergraduate physics major chauffeuring Einstein.
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It’s this blend of earnestness, irreverence and deep knowledge that continues to define his brand. Lynch has long resisted expansion for expansion’s sake. The opening in Larkspur, his first since 1972, represents a rare evolution for a business built on timeless principles.
Why now, and why Marin?
Marin Country Mart offers both prime foot traffic and logistical ease. “We believe that retail is a local affair,” wrote Brooke. “Particularly in the Bay Area, where crossing a bridge can sometimes take more time than you have available!”
The centre itself is home to a curated blend of boutiques and eateries, from Goop and Jenni Kayne to Hog Island Oyster Co. The new Lynch outpost will echo the Berkeley shop’s “taste before you buy” ethos, with a curated selection focused on French and Italian terroir.
A legacy of authenticity
Lynch’s reputation rests not only on what he imports, but how. He famously introduced refrigerated shipping containers to the US wine trade after finding that Burgundies arrived tasting “cooked”. He successfully petitioned the federal government to allow moderate health statements about wine, pushing back against blanket warnings from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
These are the acts of someone not just importing wine, but defending it. Lynch has been awarded the Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur and two James Beard awards. Yet he still describes himself as a rebellious son of teetotallers, first introduced to wine at 17 by Berkeley grads and later wooed to the table by Olney and the Peyrauds.
A new chapter, same story
Lynch once wrote that he aimed to “filter out the industrial, the pretentious, and the anonymous” in wine. That sentiment will no doubt extend to the new Marin shop, where wines will be chosen not for points or prestige, but for the clarity with which they speak of place.
“I still see Lulu,” Lynch wrote nearly a decade ago. “She just turned ninety-eight. Lucien and Richard are gone, but from time to time, Lulu and I raise our glasses to them and reminisce about how they enriched our lives.”
