C lad in his trademark look of a casual button-down shirt and baseball cap that sports his Pillsbury Wine Co. logo, Sam Pillsbury looks like a fun uncle ready to sip on a beer at the family barbecue. He has an affinity for giving hugs and speaks with bold confidence that tends to draw attention in a room. His New Zealand accent hints at his well-traveled past. Pillsbury’s father was a successful corporate executive who saved his money, which allowed his family to move often and call idyllic spots home. Pillsbury was born in the U.S., spent some of his child- hood in St. Croix and was 13 when his family settled in New Zealand in 1960. There, he found his passion for film. But he also discovered a bias that prepared him for what he would face in his future career. “The feeling was that anything made in New Zealand was crap and that it had to come from England or America. It was the same with movies. Things have changed a bit since then,” he says. “But I was used to this type of attitude.” Pillsbury persevered, submitting his films to competitions in an effort to prove skeptics wrong. In 1982, “The Scarecrow,” a comedy horror flick starring the late John Carradine that Pillsbury co-wrote and directed, became the first New Zealand feature to be accepted into the Cannes Film Festival. Pillsbury went on to do more than 30 projects in film and television, splitting his time between New Zealand and the U.S. In the late ‘80s, he started spending more time stateside and moved back to his birth country. Then in 1999, Pillsbury sipped on a glass of Arizona chardonnay that pointed him to his next great creative challenge: Growing the next big thing in an obscure, harsh desert. “When I tasted that wine, what was exciting about it to me was that it told me a story that almost nobody knew, which is that you can make wonderful wine here,” Pillsbury says of the Dos Cabezas WineWorks white. That glass changed Pillsbury’s life forever. But whether its effects on the wider Arizona industry can endure have yet to be seen. A budding industry grows Arizona wine started as a tiny industry. From a handful of vineyards bloomed an agricultural giant for the state. The industry here is now worth $4.24 billion, according to an impact study by the National Association of American Wineries. In 1999, there were 12 licensed wine producers in Arizona. In 2000, the industry produced 405,000 gallons of wine, according to the U.S. Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau. As of late 2023, 156 winemakers produced more than 700,000 gallons of wine. Wine visitors spent $241 million in 2023, up almost sevenfold since 2011, per the Arizona Office of Tourism. And wine- related employment has ballooned 500% since 2011. Wine in Arizona now supports a labor force of 2,430 people who together earned $115 million in 2023. In the early days, almost no one saw such growth potential. Only the most passionate and stubborn stalwarts of Arizona wine bet it all on the burgeoning industry. When Pillsbury fearlessly charged into a then-obscure Arizona wine realm by planting his first vines in 2000, the film- maker-turned-winemaker established himself as one of its pioneers. “People would come up to me, look me straight in the face and say ‘You must be fucking crazy growing grapes in the Arizona desert,’” he says. “Never ever once was I threatened by that comment because I knew they were wrong and they were stupid. But it did concern me that we had this big prejudice thing to get through.” A pioneer retires Pillsbury is now 78. He knows that most people his age have been retired for a decade or more. After 25 years earning his place on the ground level of a now-thriving Arizona wine industry, he wants to join them. “I thought I could go on forever… but it’s starting to get hard,” Pillsbury says. “I don’t have the time, money or energy.” Last December, the award-winning founder of Pillsbury Wine Company put his entire operation on the market. This includes his Willcox vineyard and winery, equipment and tasting room in Cottonwood, which closed in mid-April. His Willcox tasting room remains open. Pillsbury is among the class of early power players who set the bar, like Page Springs Cellars founder Eric Glomski and Callaghan Vineyards’ Kent Callaghan, the state’s most tenured winemaker, whose family planted their Southern Arizona vineyard in 1990. Pillsbury entered the industry by partnering with the late Al Buhl, the founder of Dos Cabezas WineWorks, who is considered among the early visionaries who made Arizona a wine state. Over the past decade, the Arizona wine industry has gone from budding to flour- ishing. The proof is in the accolades from international competitions, a college wine program that has graduates helming their own wineries and a global rock star wine- maker touting the state’s wares. Pillsbury leaving the business raises the question: Are colleagues of that first impactful generation soon to follow? If so, is there a solid second generation to carry the mantle? New and future Arizona winemakers face challenges. Farming makes for a rough life. People’s alcohol preferences are fickle. And the sheer amount of dollars it takes to run a winery is dizzying. Yet the wine- makers who forged this thriving industry in the desert hope a new generation will emerge to usher the state’s wine industry into the future. ‘We’re on the trail they blazed’ Despite the challenges new winemakers face, Michael Pierce, winemaker for his family’s Bodega Pierce and Saeculum Cellars, is optimistic. He called Pillsbury’s impending depar- ture a “closing of a chapter” in Arizona wine history. But promising young wine- makers are poised to step into his boots. “It’s the passing of an era, and there are a lot of people he affected and those people will continue to move forward with what he’s done,” Pierce says. “Arizona wine will evolve with those people and I see that as a positive. We’re on the trail they blazed.” Pierce, 42, is in the new class with that responsibility. With his parents, Barbara and Dan, in their 70s, he’s starting to have delicate discussions about whether it’s time for them to slowly step back and enjoy retirement. The demanding work that farming requires, in addition to the long hours spent in their Willcox vineyard — some- times alone — is a concern, especially as Pierce’s father gets older. He says there is some pressure to continue the family busi- ness, which turns 15 this year and features tasting rooms in Willcox and Clarkdale. “It was always our hope from day one, to establish something to be here in perpe- tuity,” Pierce says. In January, Pierce joined the University of Arizona as an extension agent in commercial horticulture, assisting farmers in Yavapai County. Prior to that, he was the director of viticulture and enology >> p 12 Sam Pillsbury (Photo by David Del Grande)
