hear me out: rethinking wine in bodegas and urban liquor stores

As I prepare for my favorite cousin to visit me for the upcoming 4th of July holiday week, a thought came to mind while shopping in Back Bay and the South End: why the heck do I have to leave my neighborhood (02121) to get wine that I love? There is a reason for this and it’s not all bad. But there’s definitely room for intentional adjustments. So let’s get into it...

From my experience, bodegas and local liquor stores in both Boston and New York have served as more than just retail spots — they are “where you talk ish,” seek relationship advice from the person behind the counter, the place where dancing to Latin music through the aisles is encouraged, the beacon for affordable sandwiches, and where you go to get the infamous whole pickle in a jar (if you know you know!). These shops hold historical weight as essential gathering points and access hubs for everyday goods way before major retailers like Target decided to emerge but when it comes to their beverage offerings, particularly wine, there’s a noticeable gap that’s hard to ignore.

Walk into any bodega, corner store, or neighborhood liquor shop (note: I use these terms interchangeably) and you’ll likely find aisles stocked with familiar spirits — Hennessy, Cîroc, Crown Royal, and a selection of affordable rums, vodkas, and ready-to-drink cocktails. These items fly off the shelves, a reflection of demand and longstanding brand recognition.

But take a look at the wine shelf — if you can find it. Tucked away, sometimes collecting dust, you’ll spot a few standard bottles: a sweet Moscato, maybe a vaguely labeled “red blend” or an oversized jug of something resembling Chardonnay. These wines are offered at budget-friendly price points, yes — but they rarely spark curiosity or invite exploration.

The missed opportunity

The minimal attention to wine isn’t just a supply issue — it’s a missed opportunity to tap into a growing cultural and consumer shift. Wine is no longer confined to affluent, white, or rural narratives. Across the country, Black and Latino winemakers are telling their stories through the vine. First-generation sommeliers, multicultural wine collectives, and urban tasting clubs are gaining ground, helping people reclaim space in a historically exclusive industry.

But in many neighborhoods, the entry point is inaccessible. If a customer’s local store only stocks a small handful of wines, they may never get the chance to expand their palate, let alone develop a wine practice rooted in joy and discovery.

It’s about more than inventory

Store owners don’t need a sommelier certification to elevate their wine selection. Partnering with distributors that carry and promote BIPOC-owned brands, offering tasting notes, and simply positioning wine where customers can see and consider it — these are small steps that open big doors. Community wine tastings, in-store signage, and social media shoutouts can spark conversation and connection. It’s not just about selling a product; it’s about offering a richer experience (Shameless plug: TFLUXÈ can help in this area…hint hint!). That begins with intention: intentionally sourcing diverse wines, intentionally sharing stories behind the bottles, and intentionally making wine approachable, not intimidating.

The call for representation

Brands like Inkwell, iBest, Kumusha, and Maison Noir Wines are breaking barriers and building community. When these bottles are present in local shops, they don’t just sit on a shelf — they affirm culture, creativity, and choice. Plus they SELL OUT SO FAST!

And if I’m being honest, I love to touch bottles, read labels, and judge a bottle by it’s label design in person. So while there are accessible ways to access wine through courier services, as a non-driver I’d much rather not have to leave Roxbury or Dorchester just to find a good bottle of wine under $25—especially when I’m on a budget in today’s economy.

The bottle line

This post is not to throw shade to these community gems. As a consumer, I will always shop in these stores especially when I need platańo or any other item that feels like “home.” However, this is merely my way of highlighting how bodegas and neighborhood liquor stores are uniquely positioned to be more than just beer or spirit suppliers — they can be cultural storytellers, tastemakers, and gatekeepers of access within the wine world. By embracing these intentional shifts, these stores can help foster a deeper appreciation for the beverage — one poured glass at a time.

Thanks,

Ty-Juana