When a raging storm snuck up on Folly Beach on a recent Sunday afternoon, beachgoers weren’t thinking about listán blanco from the Canary Islands, let alone contemporary vermouth culture in Basque Country. But they thronged the service window at Vino Feo anyhow, ordering plastic cups of coconut sangria to sip on the abbreviated front porch until the rain let up.
“It’s giving piña colada vibes,” one man in a bathing suit told his wife, evidently pleased by both the cocktail and the couple’s decision this summer to relocate from Atlanta to Charleston County.
That was the intention that Vino Feo founder Brandon Underwood poured into what’s become the year-old operation’s signature drink; when he came up with its basic recipe, the longtime local beverage manager aimed for “beachy and refreshing and lively and fun.” Also in the mix: up to a dozen different coastal Spanish wines made from obscure grapes with names that could just as well belong to World Cup stars.
Originally devised as a solution to the ongoing problem of opened bottles bound to go bad during the wine window’s weekly four-night shutdown, Vino Feo’s acclaimed sangria represents everything that’s special about the minimalist venture. By casually pouring together the dregs of exceptional wines and serving them with a lime, Underwood has reasserted wine’s place in daily life and its capacity to enhance it.
“People are opening tabs and running to the beach and then jumping in the water and coming back and drinking a bottle, and then running back to the beach,” Underwood said. “It’s just a fascinating way to be enjoying wine.”
Best known around town for his stints at Edmund’s Oast, Renzo, and Estadio, Underwood had the financial wherewithal after paying off student loans to flee downtown Charleston’s hyperkinetic dining scene for the proudly divey Chico Feo, an open-air taco institution where customers care more about surf forecasts than the sand in their hair. When he joined the team, Chico Feo offered three kinds of wine: red, white, and rosé.
Underwood reasoned he could take some pressure off the main bar and deepen his longstanding relationship with Spanish wine culture by pouring txakoli on the restaurant’s beachside porch. Owner Hank Weed was at first reluctant to consign the space to another big dream, having been burned by dumpling makers and izakaya chefs. But Underwood promised that his project wouldn’t tax Weed’s time or patience.
By the time he got the green light, though, Underwood had more in mind than effervescent white wine. He envisioned Vino Feo as a celebration of wines made from grapes cultivated in air as salty as what sits over Folly. As a lifelong foe of pretension—he sidelines in sketching portraits of his friends’ rear ends—he wasn’t about to assemble an intimidating wine list. Instead, he posted a menu with vague, beach-appropriate categories, such as “sparkling” and “white stuff,” and each week rounded up superlative bottles to match.
“It’s maybe 20 to 30 different bottles,” Underwood said of the ever-changing selection. “I just fill up a big white Igloo cooler and then dump ice over it. Most of my job is making sure everything is cold.”
Served by the glass, wine is priced at $8-$14, a range made possible by the literal lack of overhead at a business without inventory, employees, or a watertight roof. Underwood will gladly part with a bottle, though. “I’m not attached to anything,” he said. “Everything ought to find a home.” He also offers five kinds of vermouth—“people are drinking an insane amount of vermouth on Folly”—and salty snacks, mostly anchovies.
For his work, or his insistence that he’s not doing any, Underwood has earned a devoted following among new-wave Spanish winemakers who’ve glumly grown accustomed to Americans’ reflexive rigidity around wine. He’s even hosted a few of them at Vino Feo.
“We had a winemaker from the Basque Country hanging out, pouring txakoli right next to the bar,” he said. “When they got out there, I was like, ‘This is not going to be like a normal tasting.’ We’re at Chico Feo; we’re at the beach, and it’s going to be super interesting and chaotic in the best way possible. They had a blast. I know they felt at home.”
Amid the barrier island’s open-minded residents and low-maintenance visitors, Underwood certainly feels that way. After 14 years in downtown Charleston, he last month moved to Folly Beach.
Fantastic as always Hanna. I don’t need to read anything else today.
Thank you!