If there’s one thing Brian Ruffentine dislikes, it is pretension. This strapping former fireman is well aware that in his new line of work — the wine trade — this is something of an occupational hazard. But not at Garage-East, the airy, timber-lined Phoenix wine bar he runs with his wife Megan. Here, he explains, they are forging a distinctly Arizonan appreciation of wine.

“We’re the cowboy state, the gunsling­ers,” he says. “We pronounce our wine ‘rose’, not ‘rosé’. We have the freedom to say, we’re going to squeeze some juice and add it to wine and carbonate that and put it in a can, and if that blows your mind — welcome to Arizona.”

And with that, Ruffentine cracks open a tin of sparkling white mixed with peach and grapefruit juice. Should you call it a mimosa or a bellini? Ruffentine chooses neither, having no time for fluty European designations: the label on his can reads “Breakfast Wine”. I take my first sip gingerly, braced for an alcopop-style sugar hit, only to find it surprisingly light and pleasantly tart. “Here’s the deal,” says Ruffentine approvingly. “This stuff is good.”

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