Eccolà, Slow Food! Noi Californiani make SUSTAINABLE wines, too!!

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Colleen was a girl of certain type—but she wasn’t. Well into her mid-twenties, she still looked like she retained her baby fat, giving her a soft, slightly roundish appeal. On the surface, she had a complete lack of pretense or guile, perhaps even an aura of naïveté. She wore her hair long, parted in the middle and without any concession to fashion or style; her attire, if memory serve correct, was generally a pair of denim overalls with a plain or calico shirt underneath. She was exactly the kind of girl you wanted to take on a picnic somewhere in a secreted mountain meadow, then make love on a blanket until the sun went down.

At the tender age of 17, Colleen firebombed a McDonald’s. In the stealth of the night, she tossed a Molotov cocktail into a new franchise under construction in Washington, DC and burned it to the ground. She was never caught and the McDonald’s never rebuilt. Leslie Bacon ought to have struck with such surgical precision.

 

Today, Colleen would find a kindred spirit, albeit less prone toward literal conflagration, in Carlo Petrini. Petrini, revered worldwide as the founder of the International Slow Food Movement, first came to prominence in the 1980s for taking part in a campaign against the fast food chain McDonald’s opening near the Spanish Steps in Rome.

Originally, Petrini started out contributing culinary articles(!) to Italy’s Communist daily newspapers Il Manifesto and l’Unità (anyone know who their sports columnist was?). He has edited multiple publications at publishing house Slow Food Editore and writes several weekly columns for La Stampa. In 2004, he founded the University of Gastronomic Sciences, a school bridging the gap between agriculture and gastronomy.

The Slow Food Movement has spread across the Atlantic to North America, where is has found a most zealous advocate in Berkeley’s Alice Waters. Last year, Waters was instrumental in bringing Slow Food Nation 2008 to San Francisco, a highly-

publicized gathering that drew 85,000 enthusiasts to venues in Fort Mason and at the Civic Center, where the plaza was turned into a working Victory Garden that produced over 1,000 lbs. of organic food during its 4-month tenure.

Since 2003, Slow Food San Francisco has sponsored the Golden Glass, a celebration of food and wine that adheres to the principles of the Slow Food Nation. The recent 6th Annual Festival in Fort Mason was its grandest yet. Given the roots of this movement, it should come as no surprise that the focus of the festival was predominantly Italian, with numerous local favorites, including A16, Perbacco, È Tutto Qua, Bacco, Pizzeria Delfina, Poggio, C’era Una Volta, Emporio Rulli, Acquerello, and Trattoria Corso purveying their fare. Local Italian food artisans included Caffè del Doge, Fra’ Mani Salumi, Fresca Italia, Massimo Gelato and Stella Cadente Olive Oil.
The Golden Glass, as the name suggests, also presented an opportunity to sample an enormous selection of wines, again focused on Italian vintages. And herein lies the rub. If Slow Food is dedicated to the preservation of sustainably-operated, local farming, why was this convergence so focused on imported wines (the dozen wineries that did participate represented the first time The Golden Glass has even included California)?
Not that Italian wines don’t have their well-deserved place. After all, I know of no one on the West Coast who grows Fumin or Negroamaro or Grecante, to name but a few varietals, or who even attempt to make a straw wine (passito) like Cornarea’s Tarasco 2005. It has been well-documented, in this blog and elsewhere, that local efforts to produce Italian varietals have had to retrench considerably and are justing to make a revival. But if the true focus of Slow Food Nation—and, by extension, The Golden Glass—is to promote local, sustainable agriculture, then the vast array of wineries in this area that implicitly adhere to their manifesto ought to be the backbone of this tasting (this is, after all, the foundation on which Sostevinobile is building our wine program).
Of the West Coast wineries that did participate, several did display their efforts with Italian varietals. Iberian varietal specialist Bodega del Sur brought their 2006 Sangiovese to contrast with their 2006 Tempranillo and 2008 Verdelho. Berkeley’s Broc Cellars showed their 2006 Luna Matta Sangiovese, along with a 2007 Cassia Grenache that stakes their claim to fame. Ever ubiquitous, Bonny Doon’s Randall Grahm surprised with his 2005 Ca’ del Solo Nebbiolo, a notably worthy expression of this varietal. On the other hand, it was no anomaly that Girasole Vineyards had a 2006 Sangiovese, and restaurateur Lorenzo Petroni premiered his eponymous label with his remarkable 2004 Brunello di Sonoma Poggio alla Pietra and a Super Tuscan style 2006 Rosso di Sonoma.
I had tasted the wines of Verge Wine Cellars but two nights earlier at A Community Affair, but was pleased to resample his 2007 Syrah Dry Creek Valley. Pey-Marin had poured their Pinot Noir the week before at the MALT tasting in Larkspur, but this time accompanied it with a refreshing 2008 The Shell Mound Riesling. Magnanimus Wines distributes organic and biodynamic wines from Mendocino County; I particularly liked Ukiah Cellars 2008 Chardonnay Mendocino and Mendocino Farms 2007 Grenache. From Hollister, Alicats brought a notable 2006 Syrah Gimelli Vineyard, while Sonoma’s Nalle Winery shone with their 2006 Pinot Noir Hopkins Ranch. Edmunds St. John, to whose philosophically-strewn newsletter I have long subscribed, showed the kind of consistency with their 2005 Syrah Wylie Fenaughty I have come to expect from their vintages, while Clos Saron from Oregon House displayed the versatility of the Sierra Nevada Foothills 2007 Pinot Noir Home Vineyard.
The Golden Glass has always been a marvelous event, and Your West Coast Oenophile looks forward to a long, enduring relationship between their parent Slow Food San Francisco and Sostevinobile. This year’s festival was a wonderful opportunity for me and the Ginkgo Girl to catch up with so many restaurants that have come to love us and to share in this most vital advocacy. We are looking forward to an even grander Golden Glass in 2010, with the anticipation of its increased outreach to the rich abundance sustainably -grown wines from California, Oregon and Washington.

Build it and they will come

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Most of us can recall a teacher or professor whose idiosyncratic style still manages to bring a smile merely at the mention of his name. Bernie Bergen was the lone holdout amid a department rife with Skinnerian acolytes and unreconstructed behaviorists. Once, he stopped in mid-lecture, pointed out the window at the Department of Psychology and pronounced: “Those people in there—they want to tell you the mind doesn’t exist…And they’re wrong!”

In true Nabokovian fashion, I discovered Nabokov in Bergen’s sociology seminar, stumbling upon his obituary in The New York Times while waiting for the lecture to commence. Bernie held joint tenure from both Dartmouth Medical School and Dartmouth College, teaching interdisciplinary courses in Psychology and Sociology with mellifluous allegories citing “little Roscoe,” an elusive mystery even unto this day. I forget the formal title of his course, but the paper I wrote deconstructing the persona of Allen Ginsberg’s mother from his commemorative Kaddish garnered me a most distinctive grade of A-wow! It was the last sociology course I took.

My ongoing efforts to draft the business plan for Sostevinobile requires Your West Coast Oenophile to be a bit of a sociologist these days. I suppose my paltry academic training in this area will excuse the broad generalities I construct, though my well-honed skills as an author do require that I be a piquant observer of the human condition. Last Friday, I attended a charitable event in the Green Room of San Francisco’s War Memorial and Performing Arts Center that was billed as A Community Affair: Summer in the City. The theme of this ambitious, albeit meritorious, gathering was Wine Tasting with Asian American Community Organizations. 

Let me start out with an encomium for this highly commendable undertaking. The beneficiaries from this event included the Asian Community Mental Health Services, Gum Moon Women’s Residence, Community Educational Services, Kearney Street Workshop, Narika, SF Hep B Free, Richmond Area Multi-Services, the Wa Sung Service Club, and, a personal favorite, the peripatetic Asian American Theater Company. Noble endeavors, all. 

Apart from the obvious social nature of this event, many of the attendees insisted to me that they were present in order to support these many causes. My subjective angle on the affair, however, noted that an even healthier percentage of the nearly 500 guests came to appreciate and experience the wine. For a relative neophyte, this, indeed, might have been a nice introductory tasting. Sixteen or so vendors brought a plentiful skew of local wines, along with a smattering of imports that I chose to overlook. Still, it’s hard for me to countenance a tasting where roughly half the wine poured could easily be obtained on the shelves of Safeway or BevMo. This isn’t meant to denigrate the various offerings from such industry standards as J. Lohr, Wente, Rodney Strong and Francis Coppola Winery—all certainly produce commendable, if not laudable, vintages. It’s just that I would have personally preferred a more ambitious lineup to have been assembled. 

A number of the other wineries, like Artesa, Fleming Jenkins, La Famiglia, and Tres Sabores may not be in the common vernacular, even though they were previously known to me. Some, of course, were revelations even to me, including Armida Winery, Blacksmith Cellars, Snows Lake Vineyard, and Verge Wine Cellars. Even more encouraging to see were Alejos Cellars and Korbin Kameron Vineyard, both owned and operated by Asian American vintners. Like the promoters of this event, I am thankful for everyone’s participation.
Still, off the top of my head, I could rattle off another half-dozen Asian winemakers who would have gladly shown their wares at this gathering. More broadly, in the course of writing this blog over the past six months, I’ve covered over 400 wineries, each of which would have been glad to open their label to a new audience. The attendees last Friday’s gathering were entitled to a more comprehensive wine experience; Sostevinobile will be more than happy to contribute our resources and assistance to planning future events.

Of course, I would be remiss in not admitting a large degree of enlightened self-interest in attending A Community Affair. A large part of Sostevinobile’s mission is to provide a commercial establishment that can break down the de facto ethnic segregation that exists in Bay Area commercial venues and entertainment. 
It is an anomaly that has long perplexed me. On most other fronts, we have arguably achieved a harmonious integration in our society here, particularly among the Asian and Caucasian (including Hispanic-identified) ethnicities, that constitute nearly 90% of the Bay Area populace. Schools and universities are seamlessly integrated. Most workplaces reflect a rough cross-section of the community. Social interplay and intermarriage has become fairly pervasive. Yet one would be hard-pressed to identify a drinking or dining establishment that attracts a representational mix among its clientèle.
Back in the mid-1990s, one such establishment made an all-too-brief splash on the San Francisco dining scene. With a kitchen manned by up & coming chef Alexander Ong (now of Betelnut), Orocco billed itself as an East-West supperclub and delivered with considerable panache behind the considerable vision of Michael Tieu. The food was incredible, the lounge was seductive, and the musical ensembles always inviting. Most strikingly, it drew an incredible mix that cut through the ethnic balkanization found everywhere else at night. As my very, very astute Korean girlfriend commented on more than one occasion, “this is the only place we can go that doesn’t feel like one of your places or one of mine.” Unfortunately, financial mismanagement, along with the imposing median strip along Geary, precipitated Orocco’s premature demise, but it still stands as a shining beacon that has yet to be replicated.
Fast-forward to today, and one starts to see an affinity for wine as a new harbinger of unity. In my ongoing development of Sostevinobile’s wine program, I frequently attend wine tastings, visit numerous wineries, and habituate a wide range of wine bars. In all these instances, I am increasingly struck by the high level of endorsement from the Asian communities—an observation I hear echoed by the winemakers and proprietors, as well. This is why I am tremendously heartened to see a gathering like last Friday’s command such a large turnout, and why I feel the need to exhort promoters of similar events to devote a high level of attention to the quality and variety of wines that they offer. You have an eager clientèle on hand; executed properly, informative wine tastings can only increase their enthusiasm .

At this stage, there is probably little point in my delving deeper into my sociological exploration of these matters. The empirical evidence I have seen tells me that the wine program we are creating for Sostevinobile cuts across ethnic divides and will offer considerable appeal to all we welcome into our establishment. Like the omen from Field of Dreams, the task that lies ahead seems clear: “build it and they will come.”

TAPAS: taking off where ZAP began

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I like to create my own anagrams. Back when Your West Coast Oenophile contemplated becoming a children’s doctor, I devised POPPA, which stood for Pediatricians Opposed to Prophylactics, the Pill, and Abortion, a self-aggrandizing scheme aimed at providing an endless stream of new patients for my future practice. Later, while working at Tetris™ distributor Spectrum HoloByte, I came up with the quintessential Pranksters Hired to Undermine (Your) Competitors’ Quality and Usurp (Their) Prominence and Profitability, otherwise know as PHUCQ UPP. Of course, I am always happy to give due credit to others who can hold their own in this arena, and, as Randall Grahm aptly noted in his off-the-cuff discourse, the contrivance to come up with Tempranillo Advocates Producers and Amigos Society in order to educe TAPAS was sheer mastery.
Maybe because I decided to forgo the quintennial gathering of my own amigos from our days of sequestration back in Lakeville, Connecticut, I decided to attend the trade seminar on Spanish varietals, prior to the 2nd Annual TAPAS Grand Tasting at Fort Mason on Sunday. My friend Markus Bokisch broadly elucidated the history and transformation of Albariño vinification quite ably, not terribly surprising once you’ve tasted his own deft manipulation of this varietal. Similarly, Penelope Gadd-Coster navigated aficionados through an overview on Tempranillo that was highly enjoyable and never didactic.
Onward we went, from the seminar in Building D to the quaint antechamber in Building A, known as the Golden Gate Room. Hard to believe this nowadays, but it was in this very same room that the gargantuan ZAP Grand Tasting, which now occupies two entire piers, first took place. A good omen for TAPAS, to be sure, and a much easier venue to reach than the late, great Copia, where their inaugural tasting was held.
This year’s gathering included 36 member wineries from California and Oregon, plus one lone representative from Arizona. In other words, just about the right density to remain manageable for one afternoon. My simple plan of attack meant rounds of seven wineries at a time, interspersed with a recharge of the incredible paella the chefs from Marco Paella were generously doling out from the back of the room. Maybe because of their alphabetically primacy, I first turned my attention to Oregon’s Abacela, a winery owned by TAPAS president Earl Jones. Standout among their pourings was a 2005 Tempranillo, Reserve, Southern Oregon, and I reserved some space for a revisit near the end of the afternoon with their 2006 Port, Southern Oregon, whose memory from last year’s tasting still lingered. A nearby swing brought me to Plymouth’s Bray Vineyards, whose noteworthy 2008 Verdelho preceded a taste of their striking 2006 Vinho Tinto, a blend of 5 Portuguese varietals: Tinta Cão, Touriga Nacional, Souzão, Tinta Roriz, and Alvarelhão (my spellcheck hasn’t a clue about any of these)! Bodega del Sur from Pacifica(!) similarly offered their 2007 Carmesi, an intriguing blend that spanned multiple viticultural designations, combining Tempranillo, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Syrah. Then again, compare these wines with Boeger Winery’s 2005 Milagro, a decidedly more Spanish-leaning mélange of Tempranillo, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Graciano.
Graciano, of course, has long been my favorite offering from Bokisch Vineyards, though I found myself more partial this time to their 2007 Garnacha, Lodi. Another paragon of this varietal was the 2007 Garnacha, Denner Vineyards, Paso Robles from Villa Creek Cellars, whose equally delightful 2007 Mas de Maha, Paso Robles combines Tempranillo with Garnacha and Mourvèdre. I am used to referring to Garnacha by its Rhône designation, Grenache, and I often flip between Mataro and Mourvèdre; calling this latter varietal Monastrell, as does Paso Robles’ Viña Castellano was unfamiliar to me. Nonetheless, this house produces a fine bottling of such but truly stood out for both its 2004 Tempranillo and 2005 Tempranillo. Viña Robles is of course, another neighbor taking liberal advantage of Paso Robles’s abundance of Rhône varietals, using Petite Sirah, Syrah, and Tannat to add to Touriga to make their 2007 Red Blend.
Maybe someday Bonny Doon will swap me a couple of cases of their finest (would that they still made grappa!) in exchange for my insights into Web design. A striking visual site, but a Web presence is supposed to be all about rapid access to information. To be fair, almost every design house I know is as self-indulgent with their own site; still, Randall, who needs hallucinogenic graphics when your 2007 Angel Paille already fits the bill? The good folks at St. Amant Winery offered their version of a post-prandial wine with their 2006 Vintage Port, Amador County, while St. Helena’s Tesouro Port Cellars blended Touriga, Tempranillo, Alvarelhão, Souzão and Tinta Cão to make their 2005 California Dessert Wine, a deceptively generic name for such an intriguing wine. Further north, in Jacksonville, Oregon, Valley View Winery topped the alcohol charts with their 2007 “Anna Marie” Port, Rogue Valley.
Though currently Sostevinobile does not plan to include Arizona in its mix, the Grand Canyon State was ably represented by Callaghan Vineyards, whose 2007 Padres accentuated its 58% Tempranillo with both Petit Verdot and Cabernet Franc. Iberian wine houses permeated in a number of atypical locales, like Livermore’s Fenestra Winery, which finds its strength in Portuguese varietals, including its 2006 Alvarelhão and 2006 Touriga. Also from Livermore, Murrieta’s Well blends their 2007 Zarzuela with Touriga Nacional, Tempranillo, Souzão and Touriga Francesca. Closer to San Francisco Bay, Danville’s Odisea Wine Company offers blends of epic proportion, my favorite being their 2007 Two Rows Garnacha, a duet of Grenache and Tempranillo. Poised at the Bay’s edge, El Cerrito’s Tejada Vineyards offered similar fare with their 2005 Tempranillo & Garnacha Blend, as well as a noteworthy 2006 Tempranillo, Reserve. Quaint Murphys in the Gold Country lays claim to Hovey Wine, with its standout 2007 Rolleri Cuvée Tempranillo, Calaveras County; the urban confines of the City and County of San Francisco, meanwhile, is home to James Judd & Son’s 2006 Tempranillo. Circling back to Jacksonville, Red Lily Vineyards offered one of the day’s standout wines, their 2005 Tempranillo, Rogue Valley.
Anomalies (at least as far as I am concerned) in nomenclature also abounded, to a degree. The parlance of business school should have nothing to do with the soaring, elegiac beauty of viticulture; still, the 2006 Tempranillo, Lake County from Six Sigma Winery represents a commendable undertaking. I kidded the proprietors of Irish Family Vineyards that their label seemed as much an oxymoron as Pasquale’s Corned Beef & Cabbage, but their 2006 Grenache and 2007 Touriga Nacional warrant no ribbing.
Providing their own laughs, of course, was the ever-outré Twisted Oak, with a quartet of nonetheless highly respectable wines, including a 2008 Verdelho from Lodi’s highly regarded Silvaspoons Vineyards. Another familiar face was Constellation’s Clos du Bois, valiantly striving to maintain an individual identity with its 2005 Tempranillo, Alexander Valley, Sonoma Reserve. This blog has also given considerable plaudits in the past to Quinta Cruz, a pre-eminent Iberian wine producer, whose 2006 Touriga combines both Touriga Nacional and Touriga Francesca.
A number of wineries came out with commendable Rosés (Rosado). After Penelope Gadd-Coster’s morning presentation, many folks flocked to the Coral Mustang display to try her 2006 Tempranillo Rosé. Solvang’s D’Alfonso-Curran dazzled with their 2007 Grenache Gris. Trenza/Tangent Wineries offered a 2008 Trenza Rosado, an uncommon Spanish-style rosé from the familiar Rhône the GMS blend. Verdad Wine Cellars, the Spanish division of Rhône-style pioneer Qupé, blended 90% Garnacha with Tempranillo to make its bone-dry 2008 Rosé.
Truth (verdad) was clearly expressed in the 100% Tempranillos from a pair of Napa wineries. Truchard Vineyards offered a vertical from 2000-2005, the standout being their current 2005 Tempranillo. Striking, too, was the 2007 Tempranillo, Shake Ridge Vineyards, Amador County from Yorba Wines. Less orthodox were the predominantly Cabernet Sauvignon blends with Tempranillo from Parador Cellars, although their 2006 Tempranillo Reserva Rancho Chiles was delightful.
Lacking a clever segue, I can only list the remaining presenters without the benefit of thematic continuity. Barreto Cellars proved strongest in their Portuguese offerings, particularly their 2005 Touriga, Lodi. From the next vintage, Pierce Ranch Vineyards shone with their 2006 Touriga . The wonderfully-labeled Dancing Coyote dueling whites from each country, with a slight edge going to the 2007 Verdelho, Clarksburg over the 2007 Albariño, Clarksburg. Premier grape grower Ron Silva, bottling as Alta Mesa Cellars from his own Silvaspoons Vineyards, truly excelled with his 2008 Alta Mesa Cellars Verdelho, Lodi. 
The standout producer for the afternoon also crushed Silvaspoons grapes. Matt Rorick’s whimsically named Forlorn Hope Wines dazzled with four wines. The 2008 La Gitana was one of only two Torrontés at TAPAS. The 2008 Suspiro Del Moro was, I believe, the only single-varietal Alvarelhão. A third white was his Verdelho, the 2007 Que Saudade. Lastly, he blended Touriga, Tempranillo, Tinta Cão and Tinta Amarela to make his superb 2006 Mil Amores.
It will take perhaps not mil amores but definitely mil amigos to continue sustaining TAPAS. With my strong predilection toward Italian varietals, I have watched the rise and subsequent retreat of these varietals on the West Coast, as well as the dissolution of their trade association, Consorzio Cal-Italia after its promising beginnings. Despite these vicissitudes, including Antinori’s lamentable decision to uproot the Sangiovese vines from its reacquired Atlas Peak, I see inklings of a resurgence in Italian varietals here on the West Coast and, one would hope, a restoration of the Consorzio on par with Rhône Rangers and other specialized advocacies.
I wonder whether Spanish and Portuguese varietals will need to endure a similar oscillation before truly taking hold here. Like Sangiovese and Viognier, I suppose it will take a few tries before vintners truly grasp the full nuance of Tempranillo and its compadres. And, of course, there is still the issue of acceptance from a public that has scant familiarity with these wines. Most people still associate Spanish wine with Sangria and, unfortunately, the taint of Mateus and Lancers still clouds perception of Portugal’s offerings. As always, though, I wish TAPAS all the best with their mission and look forward to the day they, too, move out of Building A and occupy the piers of Fort Mason, just like ZAP (okay, maybe just one pier—there isn’t a paella pan large enough to accommodate both exhibit halls)!

Bambi & Thumper

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1991. The Year of the Palindrome (as was 2002). Too long past now to attribute as a “few years back.” It was a cold, drizzly November evening, with the sun setting by 5 p.m. The perfect kind of evening for drinks inside the fireplace at the Pelican Inn. The perfect kind of first date setting that ends in “how do you take your coffee?”
My date had moved West from Indiana only a few weeks before. I think this may have been her first trip to Marin. As we began the climb up Panoramic towards Muir Beach, she took my hand in a premature but not unappreciated sign of affection. It all seemed to be going swimmingly until—WHACK! A young deer darted out in front of my Tercel and went sprawling across the highway. By the time I stopped the car and got out to look, the deer had picked itself up and had darted off, easily as shaken as I was. After inspecting the grill and finding no appreciable damage, save an infusion of deer hairs it took a month to fully clear out, I returned to the wheel and headed back toward our destination. Around the next bend, a sizable jackrabbit ran out in front of my car, again forcing me to jam on the brakes and nearly swerve off the road. “Great,” I thought to myself. “I’ve been with this girl for less than an hour and already I’ve very nearly killed both Bambi and Thumper!”

Fast-forward to June 2009. This past weekend, I found myself once again pedaling from San Francisco to Larkspur for a return to the 2009 Marin County Pinot Noir Celebration. This annual tasting benefits the Marin Agricultural Land Trust (MALT), a most worthy preservation project that has safeguarded over 40,000 acres of West Marin farmland for perpetuity, and features the growing roster of wineries producing Pinot Noir below Sonoma County. As it has been every year, the array of Pinots has been wide and consistently quite

good, from well-regarded stalwarts like Dutton-Goldfield and Pey-Marin to boutique operations like Precedent Wines and Miller Wine Works. But the star of this event has to be its succulent barbecue, generously supplied by the Point Reyes Vineyard Inn and Devil’s Gulch Ranch, featuring our

aforementioned Disney friends in the guise of Rabbit Sausage and Barbecued Venison! Let it be known that Your West Coast Oenophile is generally not long on sentimentality!

The 15-mile trek from Pacific Heights to the Historic Escalle Winery in Larkspur does much to stimulate one’s appetite, and let’s be honest, a heaping helping of savory grilled forest fare demands that a good Pinot Noir be lustily imbibed, not tepidly swilled and spat. But with the tasting running uncommonly until 7 p.m., there seemed plenty of time to work through the 16 wineries pouring their expression of the fickle Pinot grape.
In general, I was a bit surprised in the contrast between these wines and the Pinots I had recently tasted at Larkspur’s Sideways tasting. At the May event, each of the wineries showed decidedly better with their 2007 vintage than with their 2006. Here, the converse held true for those wineries who had comparable selections. An interesting anomaly I have yet to fathom.
Being an inveterate Classicist, I beelined over to the far corner where Sean Thackrey was pouring his 2006 Andromeda, a pure expression of Pinot Noir that contrasts with the intricate, esoteric blends like his noted Pleiades XVI, a mélange of Syrah, Sangiovese, Mourvèdre, Barbera, Carignane, Petite Sirah and Viognier, among myriad others. A man who culls many of his winemaking techniques from ancient Hellenic transcripts, he and I will have to discuss Aristophanes’ peroration from Πλάτωνος Συμποσίον the next time we encounter.
The winemaking community in Marin being a small, tight circle, it was not unexpected that I would encounter several of the producers I had met at previous festivals. David Vergari continues to refine his style, as exemplified in both the 2006 Marin County Pinot Noir and its 2007 successor that he poured. That ever-ebullient raconteur Mac McDonald, disappointingly, was off at another engagement, but the  2007 Chileno Valley Marin County Pinot Noir from his Vision Cellars was still splendid despite his absence.
Even though angioplasty’s efficacy is currently being challenged in some medical circles, the wines of patent-holder Dr. Thomas Fogarty (and, presumedly, his residuals) remain undiminished; his 2006 Corda Family Vineyards, Marin County Pinot Noir easily testified too this endurance. His assistant winemaker, Nathan Kindler, also debuted his own venture, Precedent Vineyards, with a noteworthy 2006 Pinot Noir, Chileno Valley Vineyard. And the Corda Winery, who produces Fogarty’s Pinot grapes, brought forth their own moderately-priced 2006 Marin County Pinot Noir.
The two revelations of this event included Brookside Cellars, with a 2006/2007 duet of their Pinot Noir Marin County, grown at Nicasio’s Moon Hill Vineyard. Even more memorable was the erotophonic Orogeny Vineyards, whose justly-priced 2006 Pinot Noir Redding Vineyards was close to orgasmic (I can’t wait to try their various expressions of Chardonnay).
One slight limitation to events such as this gathering is that only one varietal is served. Such was the case Saturday, although Gary Miller of Miller Wine Works did slip me an illicit taste of his Syrah. The one official exception to the afternoon was Point Reyes Vineyards, whose sparkling NV Blanc de Noir, Marin County, made solely from Pinot Noir, provided a refreshing contrast to the still wines of the afternoon.
I’d be remiss in not mentioning the very forthright 2006 Kendric Vineyards Marin Pinot Noir. Stewart Johnson’s Kendric Vineyard in Northern Marin also supplies the grapes for Miller Wine Works. Remiss, however, is a term I’m tempted to apply to both Stubbs Vineyards and Moon Hill Vineyards, who departed well before the 7 p.m, closing and prevented me from making further acknowledgment of their wines. They may want to stay on for their full commitment in 2010.
Having sampled all the available wines, I hopped back on my bicycle and wobbled over to the Bay Club Marin, where I had pre-arranged to rendezvous with The Ginkgo Girl. Still spinning from the tequila-infused Ginger Cake I had lovingly crafted for her very significant birthday the night before, she had declined to join me at the tasting but drove up so we could attend Marin Theatre Company’s presentation of What the Butler Saw. Joe Orton’s posthumous masterpiece, a scabrous satire with Aristophanic overtones, had nothing to do with Pinot Noir, but then the allusive title has no bearing whatsoever on the play. Somehow, a very apt symmetry to close the day with.

Why wine is better than beer. Or liquor. Or sex.

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OK, scratch the third comparison. Sometimes Your West Coast Oenophile can get a tad overzealous when starting a new blog entry. But, with the possible exception of grappa, wine is, according to my unabashed claim, notably superior to the vast array of alcoholic potables because it is a communal beverage. Whisky, ale, gin—these drinks are designed for individual consumption. Wine is meant to be shared, with friends or with strangers, in happiness or in sorrow, with all partaking from the same bottle. It is this unique, convivial quality of wine wherein lies its distinctive beauty.

The month of June began as all months should, with a celebratory kickoff. I received an invite from a loose collective of women heralding from assorted Napa wine ventures to join them for lunch and wine tasting at San Francisco’s Ferry Building—in other words, a marvelous excuse to break up the tedium of a Monday, to crisscross the City on my 14-speed Trek, and to meet new friends (I still haven’t figured out how I was included in their mailing) who share similar passions.
Being a long-time fan of Taylor’s Automatic Refreshers in St. Helena, any chance to patronize their outpost here has “Gott” to be good. And it didn’t hurt to be accompanied by a sextet of female denizens of the viticultural arts. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago when it seemed the only woman in the wine industry was Jill Davis!

My hostesses each brought a sampling of their own wines, ranging from Orin Swift’s ever-popular 2007 The Prisoner to the somewhat dyslexically-labeled 2008 Abi Blanc (a 100% Viognier) and 2007 Adi Rosé (of Syrah) from Beth Adams’ new Abigail Adams. From stalwart Patz & Hall, Anne Moses brought two of her finer Pinot Noirs, the 2007 Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir and the 2007 Jenkins Ranch.
Another familiar label, Viader, was ably represented daughter Janet, who organized this gathering. Her Howell Mountain offerings consisted of their eponymous 2005 Viader, a proprietary Bordeaux and their elegant Cabernet Franc, the 2005 Dare. From Buehler Vineyards, gregarious Italophile Misha Chelini graced the table with their 2008 Russian River Chardonnay and 2006 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. Quaintly named Jelly Jar Wines, a venture of Shannon Pistoni and her husband, proved to be no misnomer—their 2007 Old Vine Zinfandel was jammy indeed and quite pleasing to the palate. Finishing off the event, fellow pentasyllabic Italian surnamed Melissa Leonardini also chipped in with her Orin Swift 2006 Papillon, a traditional Bordeaux blend and the 2007 Volunteer, a side venture of her and her husband.
Amid such pleasant company and delightful wines, it would have been a shame to swill and spit, and so I allowed myself to forgo the illusion of further productivity for the afternoon and happily imbibe. Perhaps I may

have even consumed one  drop too many, for I somehow managed to forget to eat my obligatory Taylor’s Veggie Burger. Oh well, as the crew packed up their effects to head back to Napa, I gladly accepted the proffering of a nearly-full bottle of the Volunteer (I might have taken more, but where to carry on a road bike?). I managed to cradle the leftover portions we had ordered and passed them out to some transients sleeping on the grass beside the immortal Vaillancourt Fountain. Even for these desultory fellows, not a bad way to kick off the month.

All aboard!

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Sometimes public wine tastings are all about the wine. Sometimes it’s the event itself that takes center stage. This past month, Your West Coast Oenophile has attended two tastings put on by the Santa Cruz Mountains Winegrowers Association (SCMWA); both gatherings proved to be impeccable.
I waxed rather eloquently in a previous posting about their trade tasting at Trevese in Los Gatos. My most recent encounter was for their annual Wine with Heart benefit, held for the second time at Roaring Camp in Felton. The afternoon could not have been more pleasant.
I suspect I am not alone in having climbed Highway 17 from Los Gatos to Santa Cruz innumerable times since the late 1970s without ever veering off near the summit and discovering a vibrant community nestled in the hills. Perhaps this semi-clandestine location is what has allowed Felton to retain its quaint charm. In any case, Roaring Camp features a recreation of a turn-of-the-century whistle stop and still operates a Southern Pacific rail line that runs to the boardwalk far below. 
Many wineries gave both time and tastings quite generously to this event; their contribution to the medical research this event helps sustain is quite laudable. But, like a good Lothario, I compulsively seek out that which I have yet to conquer. Ahlgren Vineyards started me off with a stark contrast the understated 2005 Ahlgren Sémillon and a boisterous 2004 Ahlgren Cabernet Franc. From Campbell, Pinder Winery (not to be confused with Pindar, a meretricious Boeotian lyricist from the 5th century BCE, as well as a modern-day Long Island winery) displayed their Rhône-style virtuosity with their 2006 Viognier and 2004 Mourvèdre Contra Costa. Aptos Creek Vineyard, a decidedly boutique affair, offered a 2004 Pinot Noir Santa Cruz County that made one wish it were not such a rarity. The same could be said for the 2007 Chardonnay from Bruzzone Family Vineyards. A third micro-producer, formerly known as Dragonfly Cellars but transitioning to their taxonomic equivalent, Odonata Wines, sampled the remainder of their 65-case special 2006 Durif. 
Keeping things local, Hunter Hill Vineyards resonated with a 2005 Estate Syrah Santa Cruz Mountains and a 2005 Estate Merlot Santa Cruz Mountains. Fernwood this afternoon (not to be confused with Fernwood 2Night (nonetheless made mirth with their 2006 Central Coast Petite Sirah and 2006 Il Cane Sangiovese. Not to be outdone in the pun department, Burrell School brought a wide selection of their academically-themed wines, the standout being their aptly-named “Spring Break,” the 2005 Syrah Estate Pichon Vineyard. Handcrafted Pinot Nor from Clos Títa included their eminent 2005 Pinot Noir Cuvée, Santa Cruz Mountains. In keeping with the Santa Cruz aura, two organic wineries were showcased: Silver Mountain Vineyards with their 2003 Alloy (a Bordeaux-style blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Verdot and Merlot) and Zayante Vineyards, whose 2007 Santa Cruz Mountain Estate Clos du Z combines Grenache, Petite Sirah, and Syrah.
. This highly-coveted designation has to be resuscitated for the amazing 1997 Blanc de Blanc Méthode Champenoise Sparkling Chardonnay from Equinox . A one-man sparkling operation, this 100 percent Chardonnay spent nine years en triage, and was bottled with no dosage. If only he had brought his 2006 Bartolo Fiano as well!
But regrets were not to be had on this gloriously sunny afternoon. After the tasting portion had closed down, guests were treated to a ride on Roaring Camp’s Santa Cruz, Big Trees & Pacific Railway halfway down the mountain toward Santa Cruz. It reminded me of the train ride Dr. Zhivago and his family took from Moscow to Yuriatin. Only it was warm here. And the train cars were open-air. And these were not the Urals. And I don’t recall wine freely flowing in the movie. Several of the wineries brought their leftover bottles along, and generous glasses from Naumann Vineyards, Byington , Cooper-Garrod Estate and Bonny Doon kept everyone well-oiled for the ensuing 1½-hour trek.
Of course, all good things must come to an end. Back at the camp, the Ginkgo Girl and I took in the lingering rays of sunshine before heading back to San Francisco. Even she had to agree, it had been a most splendid afternoon.

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

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Whether other nations make better wine than we do is debatable, although readers of this blog know that Your West Coast Oenophile has intoned mightily on this subject many times over the past several months. One thing that is inarguable is that they do know how to say certain things better, like the title to this installment.

I am not hesitant to concede the rather pedestrian perspective that shaped my introduction to wine. Wine selections at most of the suburban establishments where I dined consisted of an unidentified red or white and sometimes rosé, which was often a house-made blend of the other two offerings. 
On the next level were the myriad imports. Italian wines consisted of Verdicchio or Soave, Valpolicella or Montepulciano from such august houses as Bolla or Cella; Chiantis, in their straw cradles, were mostly distinguished by competing lengths of their bottle necks. French wines meant a cheap Louis Jadot négotiant blend or one of Stiller & Meara’s totems to kitsch and tastelessness (the other being the films of their unctuous offspring, Ben). From Portugal came the tangy twins, Mateus and Lancers, whose ceramic bottles formed candle holders at nearly every red-checkered tablecloth spot I can remember.

The aforementioned generic white and red wines, frequently labeled Chablis and Burgundy, heralded from a quintet of California jug producers and their New York compatriot, Taylor (later on, Coca Cola bought up Taylor and launched Taylor California, which subsequently purchased both Almaden and Paul Masson en route to becoming the behemoth we now know as Constellation). All six brands produced an inventory of red, white and rosé in a variety of bottle sizes; Almaden, if memory serves correct, complicated the equation by offering a choice in whites: Chablis or Rhine. The backbone of all these wines were cheap, plentiful table grapes like Thompson seedless and Tokay, grown in abundance throughout the Central Valley. Of the six brands, Gallo was then, as it is now, predominant. In turn, Paul Masson distinguished itself with the overdramatic promotions of their pompous pitchman, Orson Welles, and atypical bottling in a glass carafe that usually found itself recycled next to the Lancers candlesticks.

The breakthough to this monotonous ensemble came with Robert Mondavi’s Woodbridge Winery and their ever-popular 1.5 liter blends, affectionately known as Bob White and Bob Red. These may not have been GREAT wines, but, at least, here were California jug wines that were PRETTY DAMN GOOD. Though not labeled as such, these wines had varietal character (Sauvignon Blanc, Cabernet Sauvignon) and easily held their own as everyday table wine or as a thoughtful contribution to a BYOB party. Besides providing Mondavi with the funds he needed to establish his Oakville labels, these wines compelled the folks in Modesto to launch an aggressive advertising campaign** to assert their wine’s quality.

Focus groups automatically eliminate anyone in the advertising filed from participating on their panels. Advertising is an astoundingly cutthroat profession, curiously so in that one would think people ought to be able to rise to the top based on talent and the quality of their work, as opposed to certain industries where the hyper-aggressive accrual of money is the only barometer of success. But it is not so much a disdain for this sordid occupation as a belief that people who work in advertising might skew the results that causes marketing researchers to preclude them.
In its struggle for self-preservation, the hierarchy in advertising strives to maintain mediocrity and marginalizes individuals who might upend this equilibrium. Having been deemed too talented for my own good, I spent years outside the inner sanctum, churning out a modicum of subsistence as an indentured freelancer. As such, I never felt any compunction at not disqualifying myself when offered the opportunity to participate in a focus group. My responses have always been honest and unbiased by my professional activities. However, on topics of which I have a strong familiarity, like Apple-related products, I have not been at all reticent in displaying my acumen.

Such has been the case a number of times that I have participated in wine marketing reviews. It’s sad, of course, when a great label is acquired by one of the major conglomerates, who then systematically the brand. Twice I’ve asked to new launches from the once-esteemed Beaulieu Vineyards, first their BV Coastal label, then their subsequent BV Century Cellars, which, to my highly-vocal dismay, did not supplant the former sideline but was placed alongside it as part of Diageo’s reckless pursuit of market saturation. More recently, I was asked to preview the design for Solaire, a Central Coast designation apocryphally attributed to Robert Mondavi. Here was everything true wine lovers had long feared when Constellation bought up Mondavi’s portfolio; rather than restore the label to the prominence it had once enjoyed (over the several years preceding this acquisition, certain scions within Mondavi Generation II had eviscerated the brand, with a watered-down Coastal appellation and a fantasy of planting grapes on Mars), the astute folks from Canandaigua, NY continued the erosion with this blasphemous derivative.

Of course, it is highly improbable that California wine will return to its inglorious past and produce the markedly inferior jug wines of a generation ago. And, despite my continuing trepidation, I suspect its giant corporate parent will still manage to preserve the quality of Robert Mondavi Reserve and, of course, Opus One. But the devolution of this brand in particular, which has done so much to elevate the quality of wine grown here, as well as others like BV, into massive, almost generic factories under the guise of industry conglomerates is an atrocity, with little sign of mitigation portending.

Fast-forward to last Saturday’s Uncorked! Wine Festival at Ghirardelli Square, a placed for which I had once designed a commercial with liquid chocolate bubbling forth from its court fountain (naturally, the myopic principals at the ad agency quashed the idea). Billed as a festival with 53 participating wineries, there were quite a number of corporate-held satellites among the booths. Given the proximity of this event to Cellar 360, it didn’t come as much of a surprise that nearly all of Foster’s Wine Estates’ California portfolio was present, and, in all fairness, the majority of these labels (Cellar No. 8, Beringer, Chateau St. Jean, Sbragia, Etude, Meridian, Souverain, Taz, Stag’s Leap Winery, St. Clement and Wattle Creek) have maintained a remarkable degree of autonomy. Jackson Family Wines was ably represented by Arrowood Vineyards, which, like all of the wineries in this portfolio has been allowed to stay true to its origins. Constellation, on the other hand, has shown itself to be far more intrusive with its acquisitions (as noted above), but I cannot attest to how much control Clos du Bois, their sole holding at this event, has relinquished.
The last heavyweight pouring at Ghirardelli Square was, of course, Gallo, which has battled Constellation for several years now for bragging rights to the megalomanic epithet World’s Largest Wine Company. Their attendees included a couple of labels Gallo Generation 3 has cultivated out of their Sonoma vineyard acquisitions: Frei Brothers and MacMurray Ranch, along with 1.5 liter titan Barefoot Winery (originally Barefoot Bynum), and their premium Napa acquisition, William Hill Estate and Louis M. Martini. Changes to these latter two brands may appear subtle to the consumer, but changes are indeed underfoot, despite previous declarations of a hands-off approach. What will come, now that William Hill’s winemaker has been “transfered” to Martini remains to be seen, but the alarming development has been the launch of a second label from Martini, the Napa-Sonoma hybrid known as Ghost Pines. Some may celebrate this development of reasonably-priced Chardonnay, Merlot, and Cabernet Sauvignon from these leading AVAs, but I found them rather underwhelming. Worse, I fear, they will be harbingers of more diminution of the brand along the lines of what Robert Mondavi and BV has endured at the hands of their corporate parent, if not worse. Years ago, Louis P. Martini invited me to lunch at his winery, where I enjoyed an animated conversation and a 1984 Barbera that still brings tears to my eyes. “Louie,” I told the girl pouring for William Hill, ”is most assuredly rolling in his grave.”
But let me close on a more optimistic note, for indeed, there were many delightful discoveries among the hitherto unfamiliar labels I encountered at the Uncorked! event, be it a subtle Tempranillo from Berryessa Gap Vineyards or the splendid array of Italian varietals from Rosa d’Oro. I promised the pourer for Deerfield Ranch that if the Ginkgo Girl and I decide to solemnize our relationship, we would serve his Super T-Rex***, an artful blend of Sangiovese, Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon, with a touch of Dolcetto. Fellow Hotchkiss internee Zelock Chow showed off a noteworthy Cabernet from his family’s Howell Mountain Vineyards, as did Charlie Dollbaum from Carica Wines. Another Howell Mountain venture, White Cottage Ranch, pleased with their 2006 Merlot, while Hall Wines showed exactly how organically-grown Cabernet shines. The 2006 Seven Artisans from RDJ Artisan Wine Company proved a more-than-competent Pomerol-style Meritage, while a chilled 2007 Roussanne from Truchard Vineyards offered a welcome antidote to the rather stifling afternoon heat. Yorkville Cellars, a Mendocino organic winery, boasts of being the only house in California to grow and produce each of the eight Bordeaux grapes as single varietals, and while they neglected to bring their much-anticipated Carménère, the five wines they poured did not disappoint. Another Mendocino operation, Zina Hyde Cunningham, managed to satisfy my Barbera craving, while DL Carinalli Vineyards made good with their 2007 Chardonnay and 2007 Pinot Noir.
Speaking of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, I do owe acknowledgment to my new acquaintance from Suacci Carciere, who enabled me to obtain tickets to this event; thankfully, the 2.5 mile pedal from Pacific Heights to this event was a whole lot easier than the 35-mile roundtrip I made the previous week to their Sideways tasting in Larkspur. And despite my long-winded perorations the Uncorked Wine Festival was a welcome urban escape for a Saturday afternoon, supporting a highly worthwhile cause (Le Cocina) in these economically-challenging times and giving voice to a number of promising, independent wine ventures, as well as their house brands.
**Despite the late Hal Riney’s gravel-voiced recitation, the slew of gold and silver medals were mostly awarded to The Wine Cellars of Ernest and Julio Gallo, one of the myriad labels they offered in the 1980s, which accounted for significantly less than 1% of their total production.
***There’s a subtle, inside joke that only people who know us would understand.

Top 10 Reasons Why I Am NOT Miles Raymond!

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10. His beat-up Saab convertible is far less eco-friendly than the car I drive
      (41 MPG highway).

  9. I have a full beard, not the  sculpted scraggle he wears.
  8. I have NEVER used the word soupçon in describing a wine.
  7. Prep school portrayals like A Separate Peace are so unflattering.
  6. Friends don’t let friends marry Armenians.
  5. My mother’s hordes her secret cash stash in a 2,000 lb. vault.
  4. The plays I write are filled with sardonic humor.
  3. San Diego State???
  2. Anyone who knows me knows I’d have gone for the Asian babe. Then
       again, it was Sandra Oh, named by Maxim as the #3 Unsexiest Woman
       in the World, behind Sarah Jessica Parker and Amy Winehouse.
   1. Robbe-Grillet? Château Cheval Blanc? Richebourg? This guy is a closet
       Francophile!
  

The folks who produce Pinot Days invited me up to a mini-preview tasting, along with a special showing of Sideways at the Lark Theater last night. I hadn’t seen my friend Sasha Verhage of Eno in ages, not since he and his fellow wineries at 805 Camelia had generously donated $1,000 in wines to the fundraiser for my playwrights’ group, Play Café in Berkeley.
Being that yesterday was Bike to Work Day, I decided to be extra-diligent in my sustainable transportation practices and brave the 16 mile jaunt from my humble abode in Pac Heights to Larkspur on my 14-speed Trek. Somehow, I managed to veer off the path I had carefully mapped out after crossing East Blithedale, but the ever-reliable Maps application on my iPhone quickly routed me back to Camino Alto, alongside Masada, Bill Graham’s former hilltop estate. (note to self: it will be a very long time before I cycle 16 miles to a wine tasting again).
I still managed to arrive 35 minutes before the curtain, plenty of time to compose myself and sample the Pinot Noir selections from the three participating winers: Eno, Ketcham Estate, and Suacci Carciere. Each winery brought their 2006 bottling and their current 2007. While the earlier vintage showed quite nicely for each, clearly the 2007s were more lush and textured, a well-balanced, nuance wine with subtle wafts of—good God, I am becoming Miles!
The movie was still quite entertaining after several years, and several of the locations were quite familiar to me this time. Unlike Miles, I was able to leave the venue quite clear headed and wound my way down to the base of Marin County. There are few experiences quite as serene as pedaling across the Golden Gate Bridge in the moonlight, but, alas, a most unwelcome fog was barreling through; with little scenery to distract me, I raced across the span in a valiant effort to stay warm. Back in San Francisco, the fog was heavy enough that it actually condensed in several spots through the Presidio, further delaying my arrival.
Back at home, the Ginkgo Girl was already under the covers. “What took you so long?” she asked. It was a moment Miles could onl
y have dreamed about. I quickly took a hot shower, but by the time I came back to bed, she was already sound asleep.

A matter of statistics

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οἶνοψ πόντος (the wine-dark sea) is perhaps the most quote phrase from Homer (Odyssey 1.183).  Your West Coast Oenophile derives his nom de plume from φιλεῖν (to love) and οἶνος (wine).

These citations are merely a contrivance to allow me to slip in the seventh language (ancient Greek) that I’ve employed, to date, in this blog. Since I began maintaining this electronic diary in January, I’ve cranked out approximately 21,669 words, including today‘s entry.
More germane, however, is that I’ve sampled well over 50 distinct varietals and blends from California, Oregon and Washington throughout the past 4⅓ months. Don’t even ask how many wines that constitutes (although my liver takes comfort that it’s sufficiently under 1,000) nor how many wineries I’ve covered (at best, 5% of the labels currently produced on the West Coast). Obviously, I have a lot more painstaking work still ahead!
The point is that I say to all those import-centric contrarians, particularly among the self-proclaimed locavore establishments: we have an abundance of excellent wine right here in our midst to create a consistently intriguing wine list at Sostevinobile.


“Nobody goes there no more. It’s too crowded!”

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I have a friend—I mention this with a rather detached sense of bemusement—who is vying for the title of Most Dourest Man on the Planet (if you knew him, this would not seem a redundancy). Fortunately, he has a histaminic reaction to wine and almost never drinks it; otherwise, I might have titled this entry “Sour Grapes.”

One of the pillars of his “campaign,” so it seems, is to become the living embodiment of the truism “Misery Loves Company.” Although Your West Coast Oenophile is demonstrably younger and vastly more well-preserved than such a palpably decrepit fatalist, this dour fellow incessantly strives to cajole a kind of pathetic empathy, commencing his pronouncements with such leveling phrases as “when you get to be our age” or “guys like us.” Perish the thought!

Recently, he sought my concurrence with his conjecture that, having reached that point in life known as the “declining years,” “we” no longer have the tolerance to wait on line an hour or so to get into this new hot spot or that fancy nightclub. “On the contrary,” I protested. “I never had the patience for that!”

To this day, I cannot fathom the rationale in lining up for a place which will be packed to the rafters and as deafening as a crowded subway station. Why endure the indignity of being herded like cattle just to endure the further indignity of a venue where you cannot move more than an inch at a time or hear what the person beside you is saying? Is this really how people connect with each other?

Which brings me to the phenomenon known as the overcrowded wine-tasting event. Last Monday, I obliged myself to attend both the Santa Cruz Mountains Winegrowers Association tasting in Los Gatos and the California Cabernet Society’s Spring Barrel tasting in San Francisco. How I managed the two, I am still trying to fathom. Don’t get me wrong—these were marvelous events, with opportunities to sample some incredible wines. It’s just that the pleasure I used to derive from such gatherings is diminishing as I find myself becoming more and more overwhelmed by the crush—not of grapes, but of attendees.

There is an æsthetic to wine tasting, perhaps even a need for a touch of solipsism, in order to enjoy fully the aromas, flavors and texture of a well-executed vintage. The more tranquil the setting, the more conducive to the pleasure of the indulgence (as we deliberate the design for Sostevinobile, this attribute will remain a paramount consideration). Granted, I am trading a large degree of serenity at these tastings for the convenience of meeting with 40 or 60 or 100 wineries, all in a convenient, centralized location, but with wine cradle slung about my neck, a pen clasped in one hand and a program guide steadied by the other, the task presented me—taking copious notes, exchanging pleasantries and business cards, and remaining focused through four hours of standing and sipping—becomes rather daunting, if not onerous. Especially amid a throng of several hundred with the same agenda as mine.
But enough with my lamentations. To paraphrase a familiar saying, “there’s no crying over spilt (spit?) wine.” And certainly, I have to offer tremendous plaudits to the good folks from the Santa Cruz Mountain Winegrowers for their selection of a setting for their wine expo. Those familiar with Los Gatos know it as an oasis of charm amidst the monolith sprawl of light industrial campuses that dominates Silicon Valley. Largely overshadowed by the culinary meccas of San Francisco, Berkeley and the Napa/Sonoma axis, Los Gatos (along with its neighboring Saratoga) now boast three of the 28 Bay Area restaurants to garner stars in the prestigious Michelin guide. Ensconced in the former Coggeshall mansion, a picturesque Queen Anne Victorian located along the major downtown thoroughfare, Michael Miller’s Italian gem, Trevese, readily reveals why it warrants this coveted accolade. 
In between delectable canapés of mushroom mousse and smoked sturgeon, I fended my way through my fellow trade attendees and managed to sample pourings from each of the 29 wineries present. New discoveries included the 2006 San Andreas Red, an estate-grown Bordeaux blend from the boutique Black Ridge Vineyards. Its companion winery, Heart O’ The Mountain, the former Alfred Hitchcock estate in Scotts Valley excelled with its 2006 Pinot Noir Santa Cruz Mountains. Winemaker Frank Ashton of the whimsically named Downhill Winery introduced me to his 2008 Torrontés, a white wine that usually heralds from Argentina and a perfect counterpart to his 2007 Chardonnay Sleepy Hollow. Echoing Downhill’s Iberian-style affinity, Santa Cruz Mountain Vineyards offered an array of Spanish and Portuguese varietals, including their 2008 Verdelho Alta Mesa, their Douro-style 2005 Concertina, and a 2006 Touriga Pierce Ranch; of course, I’d be remiss not to cite their 2006 Durif McDowell Valley, a wine that tripped me up in a recent blind tasting at Vino Locale.
Saratoga’s Cinnabar Winery most impressed me with a trio of their wines, a 2004 Petit Verdot from Lodi, their Bordeaux-style 2006 Mercury Rising blend, and an intriguing interpretation of their 2004 Teroldego. Similarly striking was the 2007 Viognier Santa Cruz Mountains from Cooper-Garrod Estate Vineyards, and both the 2008 J. D. Hurley Sauvignon Blanc and the 2006 J. D. Hurley Merlot from Gilroy’s Martin Ranch Winery. Tiny Sones Cellars offered a striking 2006 Petite Sirah, and an excellent array of Pinot Noirs were displayed by both Muccigrosso Vineyards and Sonnet Wine Cellars.

Hitherto unfamiliar wineries are primary focus when I attend these tastings, so my neglect to cite wines from well-established operations like Bargetto, Burrell School, Clos LaChance, (smooth as ice) Fleming Jenkins, Kathryn Kennedy, Michael Martella, Mount Eden, Roudon-Smith, Savannah Chanelle, Storrs, the angioplasty of Thomas Fogarty and, of course, Ridge, is not meant as a critique. Their inclusion on Sostevinobile’s roster has been pre-ordained. Or, as we Italians often say when confronted with formidable prospects, allora!
Formidable could not even begin to describe the task that await me later that afternoon at San Francisco’s Bently Reserve. My trek to Los Gatos had left me with barely an hour to wind my way through 93 purveyors of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Bordeaux-style Meritage blends. And each was presenting not only their current releases, but their 2008 barrel samples. Throw in a crowd of 400 or more, and you begin to realize what a Herculean task confronted me. Even with a number of old familiars, like Jordan, Beaulieu Vineyards and Arrowood; recent acquaintances like Adelaida Cellars, Justin, and Ty Caton; and a slew of participants from April’s Napa Valley with Altitude and the Acme Atelier tastings, I was barely able to make a dent.
When I was in graduate school, the Women’s Locker Room attendant also maintained the sign-up list for the squash courts at the Smith Swim Center. Looking up from the registry one evening, I found myself gazing at four naked coeds, pristinely bathed and eagerly awaiting their towels from the dispensary. To put it bluntly, it is nigh impossible for any 19-year-old, all pink and fragrant from a fresh shower to look bad; similarly, it is quite a feat for any Cabernet at the level presented last Monday not to be good. I will make individual amends with all the wineries not mentioned here as I meticulously make my way through the roster in the California Cabernet Society program guide. For the time being, however, let me offer kudos to those I did manage to savor: Kenefick Ranch, Arns, Sequum, Garden Creek, Corison, Roberts + Rogers, Ascentia, Atlas Peak, Martin Estate, Delectus, Steven Kent, and, as a most appropriate finial to the apex of this event, the wondrously-named…Allora!