Layne Witherell has tasted more than 100,000 wines in his life. Fifty of them have blown his mind, and he’s still on the hunt for more. 

He tries four new ones onstage each month at Blue Portland Maine, a bar that hosts live music. 

Since writing his undergraduate history thesis in 1975 on the origins of wine in California, Witherell has done just about every job in the industry: working for an importer, running his own shop, writing a wine column, leading corporate tastings and writing a memoir about his wine life. On his resume, he describes himself as a “super salesman.’ 

“I’ve worn so many hats,” he said. 

He’s performed his stand-up gig at BPM for several years, sampling wines and swearing like a sailor. “I get to be the 1960s version of me,” he said. In his career, he’s interviewed some of the greatest winemakers, he said, but right now is his favorite part of his career. 

His gig is a simple set-up, just him, a table, a microphone, a stack of notebooks and the four bottles on display. 

MORE THAN A TASTE

When it was time to taste the second wine at his December show, he wrapped two hands around the glass and took a whiff. Then a sip. A Gewurztraminer made on the East Coast.

“What do we think?” he asked the crowd. 

“Too floral,” someone shouted from the crowd. “It tastes like potpourri,” said another. 

“It’s niche-o-rama,” Witherell said. 

His shows are part history lesson, part comedy and part unfiltered opinion, drawing audiences of between 20 to 50, of all ages, according to Celeste Parke, one of the owners of BPM. They’re typically held on the last Wednesday of the month, from 6-7:30 p.m. 

There’s no formula for how Witherell develops his wine stand-ups, and the way the wine tastes is a mystery even to him before he tries them, along with the audience. One month, the theme was natural wines. Another month, it was South African wines. 

BECOMING A WINE GUY 

Witherell caught the wine bug while serving in the Navy in Rota, Spain, during the 1960s. When he wasn’t working on a diesel submarine, he frequented bodegas that primarily catered to locals. He watched a farmer mix wine from a Coca-Cola bottle with wine from a larger bottle.

Witherell was transfixed, and he now calls this mixture a “mendo-blendo,” a trademark of his shows. He tells his audience members to not drink every drop when tasting, instead mixing reds with reds and whites with whites at the end. 

“You get to be the winemaker,” he said. Sometimes the result is miraculous. Sometimes, it’s something far less appealing.

Through the years, Witherell has chased good winemakers and wine, developing an extensive palette and deep knowledge all while sticking to his roots as a “light blue collar funky ass dirt bag.” 

“He’s seen a lot,” his wife Judy said. 

Joe Appel, a Maine-based winemaker and former Press Herald wine columnist, said that Witherell entered the wine industry at a time when culture was more exclusive, and wine was considered a luxury product. 

Witherell did his homework. 

He has more than 500 wine books at home. “I’m a wine book freak,” he said. And for the past forty years, Witherell has recorded notes about every wine he’s tasted, filling more than 20 volumes with scrawled details. On June 15, 2018, he tried a Bardolino that was “light, acidic — but with pizza — a knockout!”

He was awarded a Master Knight of the Vine, a high honor from the brotherhood promoting American wines, for his work in Oregon pairing pinot noir with salmon. He worked his way up to vice president of the Lemma Wine Company, a regional distributor, making frequent trips to Europe to discover and export fine wines. 

But in the conversations Appel has had with Witherell over the years, Witherell was open and casual about wine. 

“He has an irreverence,” Appel said. 

To Witherell, wine, like a good drama, should have a beginning, middle and end, and when he’s out to dinner, he usually spends $60 to $75 on a bottle. It’s the best margin, he said. 

“If it’s expensive, it has to add more layers of flavor,” he said. “It’s like a hamburger versus a wagyu steak.” 

Sometimes, he geeks out over the wagyu steaks of wine. 

He waited 10 years to try a Valentini Trebbiano d’Abruzzo, a bottle that typically sells for at least $500. He finally found it in a restaurant in New Orleans. He remembers nothing about the meal, just that he spent an hour savoring the wine. “It was mind-blowing,” he said. 

He appreciates the artistry that goes into making good wine. While he was writing a wine column for the Richmond Times-Dispatch in Virginia, he received a call from the Italian trade commissioner asking if he wanted to interview Angelo Gaja, a famous winemaker whose bottles sell for $500 to $800. “I must have driven 100 miles per hour,” he said.

A NEW CHAPTER

Witherell moved to Portland about 20 years ago because his wife, Judy, is a Mainer and she vowed to return someday. The pair met in Richmond, Virginia, and lived there for several years.

Ten years into his time in Maine, Witherell tried to retire. But he couldn’t stay away from the wine world.

He writes a wine column for the West End News, and for 12 years, worked for Trader Joe’s as their wine salesperson until 2024.

When he worked at Trader Joe’s, Witherell would eat lunch with a group of Gen Zers, or what he describes as the wine industry’s worst nightmare.

Young people, a demographic that’s generally the most curious and adventurous with their wine consumption, don’t have a lot of disposable income nowadays to buy pricey wines, according to Appel. Alcohol consumption is generally down among this group as well. Appel cites economic stress, the legality of alternative stimulants like marijuana and shifting socialization as the reasons. 

But some young people have discovered Witherell’s shows.

Nicole Welsh moved to Maine in 2018, and met Witherell in the wine section at Trader Joe’s. She initially asked him for wine advice, but he shared more than that, including restaurant recommendations. 

“He was my first friend in Portland,” she said. “He really takes people under his wing.” She brought some of her friends to his monthly show.  

“If anyone is going to revive the local wine scene and preserve it,” Appel said, “it’s him.”