Category Archives: Pinot Noir

What kind of wine goes best with apostacy?

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I would never think of serving venison for Christmas. A rabbit repast for Easter is, however, an indulgent heresy. Years ago, I tried adapting a Paul Prudhomme recipe for Cajun-style Coniglio Tetrazzini as the overture the post-prandial delectations of a young denizen of New Orleans who was summering in Santa Cruz, but, alas, she never did show for dinner,—or the follow-through breakfast I had so elaborately planned-and I was left to slough through reheated leftovers for the next four days.

Twenty-five or so years later, I decided to reprise my culinary fête for The Ginkgo Girl. Lacking my original recipe, I improvised, kneaded a batch of Red Pepper/Paprika dough instead of the Cilantro Fettuccine I had made the previous time, and cranked it through the spaghetti cutter on my well-worn Atlas Pasta Maker. Fresh spring vegetables (bell peppers, snap peas, button mushrooms) and butter were readily acquired on AT&T Coupon Night at Rainbow Grocery, but an exhaustive search found only Little City Meat Market stocked fresh rabbit for the coming Saturday.

Sunday morning, I set to task, first rolling out the noodles, then boiling and cooling them down as I prepared the sherry-cream base. In the middle of my preparations, I realized, much to my chagrin, that—horrors!—none of the wine we had on hand would complement the myriad flavors of my elaborate concoction.

Because it was Sunday, and a sacrosanct holiday to boot, I soon became aware that my options were quite limited. The Wine Club was closed; groceries, if open, were limited, at best; and all of my preferred wine shops were closed. Reluctantly, I settled for my last available recourse: BevMo.

Now, this isn’t to say that Calizona’s leading beverage chain does not offer a very nice selection of some very nice wines. One certainly can find a wealth of highly serviceable vintages in the $15-20 range that more than adequately address the need for an everyday wine. And their selection of higher-end wines is far from pedestrian. But a store like BevMo, quite understandably, leans toward predictably safe choices. There are rows upon rows of Cabernet, of Zinfandel, of Pinot, of Merlot, and of Chardonnay. They is an abundance of Sauvignon Blanc and Syrah, dollops of Roussanne and Marsanne, a smattering of Pinot Gris and Viognier, and an homage to Petite Sirah and an array of blends, both red and white. But none of these quite fit the menu.

The more traditional Chicken Tetrazzini could have withstood a strong white, perhaps a heavily-oaked Chardonnay that trend-seeking wine enthusiasts often deride. The peppers and spices that infused my rabbit/pasta mélange demanded something red, but on the lighter side. Don’t even think Valdiguié! Perhaps the charms of a California Dolcetto or the rare subtlety of a local Aleatico might have served my purpose, but the tiny tiers of the Other Reds rack offered only an array of GMS blends, a couple of
Petit Verdot and a lone bottle of Carignane. If memory serves true, there may have also been some $9 Sangiovese and a rather unassuming Barbera, but my quest for a well-paired varietal was not to be satisfied. Loathe as I am to admit it, Your West Coast Oenophile was stumped; eschewing the anathema of scouring the Imports aisle, I settled on a 2006 Cambria Pinot Noir (Julia’s Vineyard) and returned to the stove.

My fanatically Catholic mother would readily attribute my shortfall to the heterodoxy of my religious tenets—a divine retribution against my culinary foray. Who knows? I am not about to give her the satisfaction of acceding to her strictures. Next year, I intend to select the wine first and devise a recipe around it.

Whither Bambi Francisco?

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Somehow, Your West Coast Oenophile managed to lose track of Bambi Francisco at the 2009 Wine 2.0 Expo last Thursday. Because this gathering showcased the convergence of wine and technology, I could have thought up a highly inventive way to signal her, like Tweeting “tell Bambi I’m standing by the Cameron Hughes table” from my iPhone or by logging onto the Web app Nirvino had set up for the event and wryly posting “2007 Inman Family Russian River Valley Pinot Gris would sure taste great if Bambi were tasting it here with me” on their overhead screen. But like esprit de l’escalier, the notion didn’t occur to me until well after I had left.

Of course, I hadn’t been invited to this tasting to renew my acquaintance with this intrepid reporter, so while she filmed her podcast, I moseyed about the various nooks and crannies at Crushpad, searching for memorable wines to add to our growing roster at Sostevinobile and to include in this blog (a fairly formidable task, given the somewhat chaotic layout of the vent and program guide). Naturally, I first found myself at the table for Classic Malts of Scotland, where the temptation of Lagavulin 16 Year Old proved…too tempting.
Admittedly, it takes a few moments to cleanse one’s palate from the taste of Single Islay Malt Scotch, so let me take this time to explain what the intersection of wine and technology is not. At the bottom of the list, one would have to cite the automatonic wonder known as The Winepod™. This impersonal contraption has been billed as “George Jetson, Meet Winemaker” and could only come from the aesthetic void known as San Jose—throw in the grapes, flip on the switch and await your technologically perfect wine. Suitable, of course, to be dispensed in discrete 1 oz. shots at the nadir of the wine tasting experience, the late and not especially lamented VinoVenue. Technology, however, does offer the possibility of enveloping more people into the richness of the wine experience, and, as it has become the lingua franca of the under-35 set, there is much to be said for the virtues of marrying social networking and web-based communities to the sheer joy of œnophilia.
So onward to the wines I discovered (given the utter randomness of listings in the program guide, the order of my selections will likely seem splenetic). First up, though not because he invited me to the upcoming Pinot Days Grand Festival Steve Rigisch poured a pair of truly excellent 2007 Russian River Pinot Noirs, from Olson Ogden and his own Ketcham Estate. If this was a prelude to the June gathering, I am bound to be euphoric. 
Post-prandial fare came early Thursday evening, with a 2004 Port of Pinot Noir, which 122° West Winery calls Sonoma County Dessert Wine. Their 2006 Napa Valley Sangiovese was equally impressive. Strains of The Deuces’ WPLJ (not the Long Island radio station) echoed through my head with my taste of Rick Kasmier’s White Port of Chardonnay, a wine that may well become timely in the midst of this economic neo-depression. In a similar vein, I admit I cringed before tasting his Kaz Vineyards’ 2008 Stimulus (seems every advertiser these days feels compelled to use this term in their promotions), but with a lineup that includes Lenoir, Malbec, Barbera and DeChaunac, I suspect a trip to his Kenwood tasting room will soon be in order.
In stark contrast to Kaz’ 27 varietal offerings, Bedarra Vineyards from Dry Creek Valley produces a mere 250 cases of a single wine. Their second vintage, a 2007 Chardonnay, showed tremendous promise. Meanwhile, making their first California foray, Y Rousseau Wines presented their understated yet refreshing 2008 Russian River Valley Colombard Old Vines.
Similar modesty was not to be found in Walla Walla’s lone representative, Wines of Substance. While their labels cheekily borrows from Breaking Bad’s twist on the Periodic Table, their wines are anything but chemical in composition or taste, with both 2007 Riesling and their 2007 Merlot ably displaying why Washington excels in these particular varietals.
Loyal readers of this blog well know my partiality for the Italian interpretation of most cultural expressions or phenomena. Naturally, I gravitated to Dono dal Cielo’s table, where I was delighted with both the 2006 and 2007 versions of their Newcastle (the California hamlet, not Newcastle-on-Tyne, the more renowned British brewery enclave) Zinfandel. Of greater fidelity, Due Vigne di Famiglia offer a quartet of wines, punctuated by their salubrious 2006 Nebbiolo and my predilection a 2005 Dolcetto.
It would have been wonderful if Michael Giarraputo had been able to speak with me in Italian, but his Think Tank Wine Company is quiet conversant in the sustainable values Sostevinobile espouses. His 2007 La Encantada Vineyard Pinot Noir is an excellent organic expression of Santa Rita Hills’ signature varietal. Another winery aiming at a different kind of appeal, Courtesan Wines, echoed the highly romanticized version of this Venetian archetype, so sensually portrayed in Dangerous Beauty. Hints of sensuality were abundant in both the 2006 Courtesan (Cabernet Sauvignon) and 2006 Brigitte (Merlot), both hailing from Oakville. The big O of the evening, however, was O’Brien Estate, whose 2006 Seduction is a Bordeaux-style blend that lived up to the promise of its name. Their 2007 Chardonnay was also a worthy counterpart.
A Palo Alto venture, Cannonball Wine Company, inspired me to whip out my iPhone 3G and play the immortal saxophonist’s Mercy, Mercy, Mercy. Their 2006 Cannonball Cabernet was a deft blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah from a decidedly unkosher mélange of four vineyards in Dry Creek, Mendocino and Paso Robles. A more traditional blend was the 2005 Estate Bottled Cabernet Sauvignon from Lancaster Estate, a stellar Bordeaux-style assemblage of 90% Cabernet Sauvignon, 5% Malbec, 2% Merlot, 2% Cabernet Franc, and 1% Petit Verdot.
It’s a rare treat when a wine looks as good as it tastes. The labels Eric Kent Cellars commissions for their wines are vibrant, evocative and well-suited to their portfolio of Chardonnay, Syrah, and Pinot Noir from Sonoma. Most memorable of the evening was their 2006 Dry Stack Vineyard Syrah, a stellar Bennett Valley vintage with and equally memorable label from artist Colin Day.
Some people are drawn to wines by their rating points from Robert Parker or Wine Spectator. I tend to succumb to those wineries that can offer something contrarian in nature, as demonstrated by Delgadillo Cellars, which was just now releasing its 2001 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon! A splendid Old Vine Cabernet, this wine came closest to warranting the highly coveted .
I topped off the evening with a return to the Classic Malts of Scotland table and, later, an unanticipated (and soon to be contested) rendezvous with the traffic constabulary from the SFPD. Though highly improbable, I can categorically state that a late-night encounter with the elusive Ms. Francisco would have been far preferable. Then again, she never did show up that time for the showdown on the squash court she had always promised…

Philosophy or pablum?

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I’ve long held a strong disdain for California’s senior Senator. Meretricious may be too harsh an epithet, but her penchant for self-aggrandizement is egregious. And even that wouldn’t be such a calumnious indictment, except that, apart from her overt desire to augment her own political capital she singularly lacks a philosophical adherence behind her legislative agenda. She may have felt a moral duty to replace slain San Francisco Supervisor Harvey Milk (of the recent cinematic hagiography) with another denizen of the Castro District, but where was her concomitant obligation to the local Italian community in the wake of the ethnically-motivated assassination of George Moscone? Her much-publicized efforts to homeport the nuclear battleship USS Missouri offered no measurable benefit, albeit posing substantial environmental and safety risk, to the Bay Area, apart from bolstering her own defense credentials in preparation for her eventual Senate run. True, she may fervently drive legislation on behalf of tighter gun control, yet she had the unmitigated chutzpah to lobby openly for the death penalty from the pulpit of the Roman Catholic cathedral, in blatant disregard for one of the few truly enlightened Vatican doctrines.
Still, Your West Coast Oenophile really harbors no concern over the apostasy of this patrician-Republican-cloaked-as-a-centrist-Democrat, even as her aged jowls descend eerily into a Nixonian physiognomy. It is not the intent of this blog to vitiate her potential entry in the next California gubernatorial race nor to take issue with her various contrivances, political or personal (no matter how indistinguishable the two may be). Indeed, the vituperance of my prefatory comments belies a primarydesire to advocate a logical and philosophical consistency to whatever position one espouses; it’s just that no one I know embodies a starker contrast to this dictum than does Dianne Feinstein.
SWitness her efforts several years ago to shore up her credentials with the female electorate—hardly a stronghold for this well-ensconced spouse of a leading local billionaire. Feinstein openly lobbied for unrestricted access to abortion, arguing that choice in this matter belonged solely to the woman and not to the discretion of the state. “Does that include allowing abortion for gender selection?” an astute interrogator queried, a deliberate allusion to the prevalent application of this procedure in societies that derogate the value of female progeny. The inherent contradiction here requires no further explanation.
The moral ramifications of philosophical inconsistency may not be as pronounced in issues of sustainability, but I do find the dominant paradigm to which so many professed locavore establishments ascribe to be equally paradoxical. In a scenario that seemingly repeats itself ad infinitum, I engaged a new, highly-touted San Francisco organic dining establishment in an inquisitive exchange over their professed adherence to local, sustainable principles a couple of nights ago.
Having read a rather lavish encomium in The Tablehopper for ┓(I am withholding identification of this cafe beyond an overt symbol), I thought I might reward myself with a late night bite and a touch of the grape for completing my dastardly 1040A forms far ahead of the government’s due date (note how I deftly carried my numerous 2008 expenditures for developing Sostevinobile over to the current tax year). As soon as I hit the Electronic File option, I turned off TurboTax and cautiously wound my way past dissolute throngs of Hibernian revelers to the quiet perch in the Mission where ┓operates. The atmosphere, as well as the clientele, seemed to have been transported from Saturn—not the multi-ringed planetary giant but the eclectic Santa Cruz cafe—ebullient and completely sincere. The bubbly, mildly corpulent server behind the counter greeted me warmly and without any need for prodding, launched rapturously into her litany of the multiple virtues behind all the ingredients  ┓deploys in its cuisine.
“That’s wonderful,” I replied. “But may I see your wine list?” To their credit, their offerings were all either biodynamic- or organically-grown, but, as I suspected, predominantly imported, with a smattering of wines from California and the West Coast.
“So why don’t you extend the same [local, sustainable] principles to your wine selections?” I asked. Of course this hostess was completely fazed by my question and meekly allowed that they hadn’t considered this aspect. “Besides,” she proffered. “This way we can offer you a glass of organic wine without having to charge outlandish prices.”
At this time, I won’t try to belabor the point that there is an abundance of excellent and affordable organic wine produced in Oregon, California, and Washington. I could argue at length that shipping wine here from overseas not only creates a considerable expenditure of carbon emissions, the resulting need for wine produced here to be delivered to non-local markets doubles the impact. The issue at hand is that one needs to be philosophically thorough in comprehending and applying one’s putative principles, else they become empty pablum. It is a point I hope ┓(and others) will soon recognize.
I don’t pretend it will be an easy task for Sostevinobile to maintain a rigid adherence to accepted sustainable principles, nor will I be surprised if we slip, on occasion. Nor will I deride the laudable intentions of , if they do not conform exactly to what we will advocate. I culled over wine list at ┓and passed over the very serviceable 2006 Jeriko Estate Pinot Noir for a delightful, slightly more economical glass of 2006 Bonny Doon Ca’ del Solo Sangiovese. I could not help but wonder whether the organic Sangiovese from Staglin Family Vineyard, a $95 bottle when available, might not have tasted…

On the Road Again (redux)

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And what is so rare as a day in June? Perhaps a midweek March afternoon, winding up a country hillside halfway from nowhere for nine miles to stumble upon an organic farm where a striking 5’9″ Chinese girl touts organic olive oil and tea tree scrubs while ever-so-slightly mispronouncing “bruschetta.” The Mt. Olive Organic Farm wasn’t a scheduled stop or even the point of my trip, but it serves as a paradigm for all the unanticipated discoveries I made during my Paso Robles swing last week.
In terms of winery destinations, Your West Coast Oenophile has been, as I suspect many others are, egregiously Napa/Sonoma-centric for more years than I care to enumerate. There have always been pockets of vineyards interspersed throughout the state, and I’ve happily visited a number of them here and there. But the notion of a concentrated, cohesive, cooperative wine community outside of the aforementioned region seemed a bit unfathomable (even though Sideways had clued me in to the existence of such). So, naturally, I was quite taken by surprise to discover that the juncture of US 101 and Hwy. 46, long seen as little more than a convenient pit stop en route to Los Angeles, had exploded into a major AVA blanketing both sides of the freeway.
Let me end any suspense here and now: during my three day Paso Robles swing, I did not manage to visit all 240 wineries (suffice it to say that such a feat would have lent considerable credence to the Ginkgo Girl’s suspicions of my incipient dipsomania). Still, I did manage to take in quite a selective range of what this vast AVA has to offer.
My first stop in Paso Robles tended to the sustainable component of Sostevinobile, a most informative workshop on sustainable building jointly sponsored by the good folks at PG&E and the California Sustainable Winegrowing Alliance. Wonderful to learn of the numerous energy rebates potentially available to our San Francisco flagship site, as well as the requirements for LEED-CI certification. This ever-evolving project continues to take many turns at each juncture. The workshop began with a tour of the Eos Estate Winery, the Central Coast’s first winery to supply 100% of its own electrical consumption. Years ago, I met the Arcieros, former owners of this estate, and introduced them to the forebear of Bacar and the Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant, Eos Restaurant and Wine Salon in Cole Valley—a natural marriage, or so it had dawned on me. But progress is progress, and one would tend to believe that should Sapphire Wines apply the same exacting diligence to their wine operations, their potential will be impressive.

After the workshop, I drifted eastward to the amazingly eclectic Tobin James, a must-see winery that also serves as a counterpoint to Healdsburg’s Dry Creek General Store 1881. In a strange way, my awkward efforts to snap a picture from my iPhone perfectly captures the élan of this place. The quirky charm of the ramshackle place belies the seriousness of their winemaking, which, in turn, exposed a common conceit to which I admit
succumbing occasionally, that being a predilection to correlate quality and price. While I had the chance to sample several of their varietal offerings, including a most agreeable 2005 Sangiovese Il Palio, their standout was also their most economical wine, the 2006 Chateau Le Cacheflo, a proprietary blend of Syrah, Sangiovese and Barbera that retails for a relatively paltry trickling from one’s “cash flow”—somewhere in the vicinity of $11.99.
By no means, however, does Tobin James hold a monopoly on Italian varietals bottled on Paso Robles’ east side. Poised at the intersection of the two main thoroughfares, Martin & Weyrich, a longtime favorite, featured a number of traditional Italian wines and esoteric blends, including their signature 2005 Insieme, a
mind-boggling mélange of Cabernet Sauvignon, Zinfandel, Nebbiolo, Sangiovese, Barbera, Pinot Nero and Petit Verdot (please don’t suggest they add Graciano—that’s reserved for blending in their 2002 Flamenco Rojo)! Still, I found myself particularly enticed by their well-rounded 2004 Nebbiolo Il Vecchio, a worthy rival to any Barbaresco priced even double the $22 it commands.

Martin & Weyrich also produces a wine they label Etrusco, not really a Super Tuscan so much as a Cabernet rounded out with Sangiovese. Some dominazioni purists may regard such a blend as heresy, but the folks at Martin & Weyrich are in good company. Across 101, L’Aventure commits similar apostasy with their artful marriage of Bordeaux and Rhône varietals. Yes, mes amis, Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah can happily reside in the same bottle, as their aptly-named 2006 Optimus attests. Conventional Cabernet and Rhône GMS (Grenache-Mourvèdre-Syrah) blends are well represented in L’Aventure’s library and offer quite the sophisticated counter to Paso Robles’ rustic perception, while their new Syrah-based 2008 Estate Rosé will by no means remind anyone of White Zinfandel.
I spent my final day in Paso Robles scouring the westside hills, on a loop that took me to Adelaida Cellars, Justin Vineyards, Tablas Creek, Halter Ranch and the geologically-imbued Calcareous Vineyard (would that the folks at Linne Calodo have been remotely as accommodating in their response to my inquiry)! My first stop, Adelaida, is a winery that embraces a wide swath of the viticultural terrain: Bordeaux, Burgundy, Rhône, and Piemonte, as well as the obligatory homage to the local signature grape, Zinfandel. Their 2007 Viognier inarguably lived up to its billing as a balance of crisp minerality and aromatic fruit, a subdued expression of this somewhat haphazard varietal. Similarly, the 2005 Nebbiolo brought an unabashed smile to my face. I of course delighted in their 2005 Viking Reserve Cabernet, as strong a $75 Bordeaux blend as any of its Northern competitors, but, as per usual, found myself most intrigued by the 2006 Version, a jam-packed blend of Mourvèdre, Grenache, Syrah, Cinsault and Counoise.
Leave it to Tablas Creek, however, to tantalize me with a 100% Counoise bottling. The 2005 Tablas Creek Counoise came about, as it has in occasional prior vintages, when their estate pantings yielded more fruit than needed for their Esprit de Beaucastel and Côtes de Tablas. This is a rare expression of this grape for California and a wondrous d
elight. Tablas Creek also poured me their 2006 Tannat (an 88% blend softened with Cabernet Sauvignon) again a rarety on the West Coast and again an amazing discovery. 2006 Roussanne, 2006 Grenache Blanc, 2006 Mourvèdre—I could wax ad infinitum—Tablas Creek, along with Alban Vineyards and Qupé, has always represented the holy grail of Rhône-style wines from California to me, and this visit exceeded my expectations. That their 120 acres of plantings are all organic certified only enhanced my appreciation.
I would be quite remiss if I did not acknowledge Monica, whose splendid hospitality and individualized attention truly made my Tablas visit thoroughly enjoyable. Her counterpart at Justin, Sara Lutsko, was equally delightful and could have even tempted me to…but I digress. Justin is a winery that also features one of Paso Robles most acclaimed restaurants. Judging by the hairpin turns and utter remoteness of the setting, diners would be wise to book a room at JUST Inn, their onsite bed & breakfast. Justin takes a decidedly Pythagorean approach to their labels, and indeed their blends often do sum up a² + b² to produce a decidedly synergistic c². Case in point, their 2006 Justification, an atypical blend of Cabernet Franc and Merlot, or the 2007 Orphan, a Cabernet Sauvignon + Syrah combination. I joked that they ought to pair their 2006 Savant (another Cabernet & Syrah hybrid) with a wine labeled Idiot (cf. Rainman for the reference), and they came close with their 2007 Obtuse, a port-style dessert wine made from 100% Cabernet Sauvignon. My kudos, as well, for their 2006 Tempranillo Reserve (mistakenly priced, one would hope, at $312.50! on their website) and their distinctive 2006 Petit Verdot. And did I mention the 2006 Isosceles, their justly-famed Bordeaux meritage?.
It seems that many of the attendees at the Green Building Workshop beat me to Halter Ranch, a small, unimposing venture that both Jill Whitacre and Kira Costa of the Central Coast Vineyard Team highly touted. Their judgment makes me wish I could have followed up on all their recommendations. As one of the first Central Coast wineries to be certified for Sustainability in Practice (SIP), Halter Ranch put forth a lineup of estate grown varietals and blends of both Bordeaux and Rhône clones, distinguished by their 2007 Viognier and their 2005 Cabernet Franc.
By now, everyone knows that bombastic scene, with Leonardo Di Caprio, arms spread back like an erne, perched atop the Titanic’s bow, proclaiming “I am King of the World!” Yet that is exactly the feeling one gets from the panoramic loft that houses Calcareous Vineyard’s new tasting facility. The grandeur of this setting, with 270° views sweeping across the entire valley, is impossible to depict with the constrictions of HTML text, but it should become an obligatory stop for any Paso Robles tour. Against this commanding backdrop, one could easily luxuriate in their 2004 Reserve Zinfandel, the 2006 Twisted Sisters Chardonnay, a York Mountain 2006 Pinot Noir or the 2006 Petit Verdot. Still, I have to confess a fondness for their 2006 Très Violet, a GMS blend that veers from duality of Grenache or Mourvèdre predominance and allows Syrah the upper hand.
I drove back to San Francisco along the Pacific Coast Highway as a coda to my revelatory visit. As I passed through Soquel, I detoured to Bargetto Winery in the hope of finding a final touch of Dolcetto to round out my excursion, but, alas, they were sold out and I had to settle for a taste of their 2002 La Vita, a proprietary blend of Dolcetto, Nebbiolo and Refosco from their Santa Cruz Mountain estate vineyards. It is a hard life I lead…

Taking the pledge

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From the look of things today, we are going to need all the help we can get if we’re going to steer ourselves out of this economic morass. This task is so formidable, there’s actually a rumor floating around that embattled Illinois Senator Roland Burris is going to quit so that the Punahou Kid can resign, reclaim his former seat, and hand the Presidency over to Joe Biden (could anyone blame him if it were true?). But rather than dwell on speculative fantasy, I, for one, am ready to do my part and right here am making my patriotic pledge: Your West Coast Oenophile will, just like the chastened, stimulus-laden bankers on Wall Street, continue to undertake my responsibilities and accept not a penny more than $500,000 in annual salary until this financial crisis has fully abated. Even if that means foregoing the Napa Valley Wine Auction this coming June.
Speaking of investment bankers, the Ginkgo Girl and I dropped in on my longtime friend Alan Jones on our way back from Sonoma last night. Alan is a former Exonian who preceded me in college at a couple of not-so-preppie student organizations, Black Praxis and Foley House before veering off to business school at Wharton. From co-op to coöpted, as I like to kid him, but then his wine collection and recently expanded wine cellar dwarf my humble assemblage, so perhaps he had the better idea.
Alan’s hospitality remains legendary and his pours are generous to a fault (or so the CHP tried to assert nearly two of decades ago), so he warrants citation on these pages. But I would be remiss in not elaborating on the splendid tasting we attended earlier in the day.
Not every winery can be described as idyllic, nor need they be to make exceptional wine. I have known several, like Starry Night and Kalin Cellars, to be housed in industrial parks, racking barrels six tiers high in cramped warehouse spaces and contracting itinerant bottling lines twice a year. Yesterday introduced us to a septet of little-known bonded ventures clustered in an industrial complex outside the town of Sonoma. It would have seemed more symmetrical had this cooperative tasting billed as The Eight Street Wineries included eight distinct labels, and, in fact, it did, but our typically tardy arrival prevented us from reaching MacRostie Winery, the sole venue housed separately from the rest. Nonetheless, I can assuage my guilt, and appease them for this transgression, by offering earnest plaudits for their many excellent Chardonnays I’ve had the pleasure to imbibe over the years.
The seven wineries we did manage to visit, as part of my never-ending quest to source an intriguing array of West Coast wines for Sostevinobile, were, in no particular order: Enkidu, Anaba Wines, Ty Caton, Talisman, Parmalee-Hill, Three Sticks and Tin Barn Vineyards. A more eclectic montage of monikers would be hard to assemble. And certainly each brought forth a wine, if not several, that I hope will find its way onto our roster.
I’m not ashamed to admit that my cuneiform reading skills have slacked off considerably, so I’ll take Enkidu winemaker Phil Shaehli at his word pertaining to the genesis for each of the esoteric labels he assigns to his wines. Babylonian floods aside, however, the true standout was his accessibly-appointed 2006 Tina Marie Pinot Noir. We found ourselves equally enjoying the 2006 Durell Vineyard Pinot Noir across the way at Three Sticks, no surprise considering the pedigree of both the vineyard and veteran winemaker Don Van Staaveren. With a quartet of 2005 Pinots, the Ginkgo Girl and I were evenly split on which of Talisman’s releases we preferred, but then isn’t that the true beauty of wine?
Don van Staaveren is also winemaker for Parmalee-Hill, a name that adorns so many labels—Flowers, Kistler, Patz & Hall, Saintsbury, Saxon-Brown, Steele—it’s almost impossible to keep track; little wonder their eponymous label is consistent across the board. Tin Barn was like a small time warp, in that their current releases all hail from vintages three to four years previous than most other wineries are now offering. Orson Welles, who, to be sure, turns agitatedly in his grave at the mere mention of his namesake restaurant in San Francisco, may have uttered the catch phrase, but Tin Barn’s wines really are sold when their time has arrived—case in point, their ready-to-drink-now 2003 Syrah Sonoma Coast, Coryelle Fields Vineyard. At the other end of the Rhône spectrum, Anaba presented both their red and white Coriol blends, the former being predominantly Grenache, the latter skewed heavily in favor of Viognier. Both were quite breezy, but proprietor John Sweazy truly stood out among the pack with his 2007 Anaba Sonoma Coast Chardonnay.
I am neither being remiss nor showing favoritism by holding my last comments for Ty Caton. Being the inveterate punster that I am (I still insist that proprietress Marcy Roth of Sausalito’s Bacchus & Venus wineshop should change the store’s name to Grapes of Roth), I lobbied shamelessly for a limited-release, vineyard-designated Napa Cabernet, Ty Caton To Kalon, but it is not to be. Oddly, though, amid his generally excellent lineup of estate-produced varietals, his almost faithful Bordeaux-style meritage, the 2005 Ty Caton Estate Field Blend stood out as the pinnacle of his winemaking talents.
And, on that note, it’s time to bring this post to a close and curl up with the Ginkgo Girl. This week has me traveling to Paso Robles, with much ground to cover and much to report on my wine explorations. Never let it be said that this erstwhile ’Kissie doesn’t earn his $500k the hard way!

God didn’t make the little green apples…

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Your West Coast Oenophile felt a bit like Peyton Manning Thursday. Not in the sense that I could suddenly pinpoint a perfect 40-yard spiral pass nor did I feel I had become the foremost celebrity, apart from my auto-iconic former college roommate, of Indianapolis, that pseudocosmopolitan enclave primarily known for hosting of amateur athletic championships. Rather, much as Colts QB must have felt seeing his younger brother Eli succeed him as Superbowl champion, I beamed with fraternal pride as I navigated a series of wine tastings from select vineyards in Washington and Oregon. 



Much corollary can be found in the dynamic of the early rivalry that matures into a genuine enthusiasm for the parallel success of one’s siblings. Being the eldest, or primus inter pares as those of us who maintain a strict credence in primogeniture are wont to describe ourselves, usually means being the first to achieve success outside the confines of the familial setting. At first, there is an almost natural tendency to denigrate the efforts or abilities of those who follow us hierarchally, the self-validating belief that “he or she will never be as accomplished as I am.” Over time, however, the solidification of one’s credentials and position gives way to a more benevolent desire to one’s consanguineous rivals achieve a measure of parity in their own right. 


I freely acknowledge that early on in my wine pursuits, I scoffed at the notion of wines from California’s brethren West Coast states. I remember being approached by an AMREX colleague back in 1983 about presenting an Oregon property to the rum producers I was endeavoring to help expand their portfolio. “Oregon has enormous potential,” he proposed, but I was not to be persuaded. 


Some twenty-five odd years later, it is not a revelation but an avid concession to declare that our Northern neighbors are producing wines on par with, if not infrequently exceeding, the vintages produced here. Notable Oregon wineries like Domaine Serene, Adelsheim and Argyle excel throughout the entire range of Pinots: Chardonnay, Blanc, Gris and Noir, as well as the sparkling wines based on these varietals. Washington has established its primary reputation in Syrah and Merlot, but has garnered impressive accolades for the Cabernet Sauvignon produced by Quilceda Creek, Leonetti and others. 


Renowned winemakers like Randall Grahm, Piero Antinori and Jed Steele have all ventured beyond their California footholds into the Pacific Northwest. The wines I sampled over lunch Thursday underscored their confirmation of the quality these viticulture regions can produce. Northstar is an affiliate of Washington’s Château Ste. Michelle devoted exclusively to Merlot; their 2005 offering shows that this varietal can actually be made into a wine.* The signature 2007 Eroica Riesling, a collaboration with the esteemed Ernst Loosen may not parallel the heights of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3, but will certainly open the eyes of any Chardonnay devotee. 


Later that afternoon, I happened upon a more heterogeneous sampling of Oregon vintages, amid an array of Nike footwear and the offer of a complimentary eyebrow waxing I judiciously declined. The 2007 Torii Mor Pinot Gris may sound at first like a New Zealand import but was readily identifiable as a noteworthy Willamette Valley expression of this versatile grape. Similarly, the 2006 Willakenzie Pinot Noir Willamette Valley did much to fortify the reputation of this AVA. The wine, though, that came closest on Thursday to earning a much-coveted  was the 2005 Foris Cabernet Franc Siskiyou Terrace, a Rogue Valley production of this underappreciated varietal. I was more than happy to accept a second (and a third) sampling. 


I did manage to finish the evening with tastings of a number of California wines. Though past the point of taking meticulous notes, I found the mayoral Plump Jack Cabernet and both Byron Pinot Noirs eminently agreeable. More of a revelation to me was the setting, a hitherto unknown cultural gem that now occupies the former Museum of Modern Art space in above the Green Room in San Francisco’s Veterans Building. granted, the Museum of Performance & Design may not rank in significance with San Francisco’s major repositories or even the above-referenced Indianapolis Museum of Art, but as long as they refuse to acknowledge that cacophonous abomination known as Beach Blanket Babylon, Your West Coast Oenophile will happily grant them plaudits. 


*As opposed to the sub-$10 swill that so inflamed Miles Raymond. 

Now give me a red envelope!

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I hope all my readers will join me today in wishing a heartfelt 恭喜发财 (Gung Hay Fat Choy) to my beloved Ginkgo Girl! She knows I could never have accomplished any of this without her.
I wish I could be so unabashed in all my praise. But my most recent foray in wine tasting leaves me feeling a bit tepid. Before I assay the wines I tasted from the San Francisco Wine Society, let me first note my great admiration for Crushpad and the many splendid, up & coming wineries that have incubated in their Potrero Hill facility. A Donkey and Goat, (who blew away everyone at Rhône Rangers a few years back with their unreleased 2000 Syrah) Eno, VIE, San Sakana are but a few of the burgeoning wine producers who initially honed their skills at Crushpad’s custom crush facility, then moved onto their own operations. even as boutique operations, these wineries either bought or contracted their own vineyards, supplied (or functioned as) their own winemaker and diligently crafted their product as distinctive expressions of the oenological arts.
Now, however, many of winemaking aspirants subscribe to Crushpad’s systematic program, buying pre-designated grapes and relying on in-house technicians to develop their wine. Which is fine for the occasional hobbyist who simply wants to bottle a few cases to serve to his friends or custom bottle a wine exclusively for Joe & Bob’s commitment ceremony or for Aunt Martha’s 90th birthday, but seems to me to be somewhat disingenuous when bottling wine for commercial sale.
Don’t get me wrong—many of the wines the members of SFWS produce are indeed noteworthy. Jazz Cellars put out a most respectable 2006 Petite Sirah, sustainably cultivated at Eaglepoint Ranch Vineyard in Mendocino. Seawind Wines offered a pair of Pinot Noirs, the 2007 Split Rock Vineyard from the Sonoma Coast being a clear favorite. But how do you justify a $70 or $90 Cabernet that is bottled from grapes that are systematically available to program subscribers?
Even if a wine in this price range is no longer considered stratospheric, it still ought to have a distinct character to justify its price. Andy Beckstoffer’s To Kalon Vineyard inarguably produces some of the finest Cabernet Sauvignon ever made in Napa, but if my wine tastes the same as your wine and the same as our friend’s wine, where’s the unique value proposition?
One of the great beauties of wine is its symbiosis of artistry and nature. Terroir need not be the only determinant of a wine’s character or flavor (there are numerous 2eme Cru offerings that I have tasted whose highly-vaunted terroir tastes more of soil than of grape). A good winemaker is a craftsman, who puts his distinctive mark on every bottling, making it his personal signature. It would behoove many of the wine bottlers in the SFWS to focus on making their next vintages far more individualized and less homogeneous.
Of course, I give myself the prerogative to be contradictory or to go back on my word as this blog evolves. So, despite earlier promises to shy away from a rating system, I reserve the privilege of bestowing a special approval on any wine I find so exceptional, I cannot restrict myself to proper tasting technique for a wine professional. The category of Too Good To Swill & Spit will be awarded to any wine I encounter that begs me to linger and enjoy a full glass (if not bottle)! As such, my first  goes, somewhat ironically, to the 2005 Flying Wine Cellars Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon. What earns this wine my kudos is the roundness it derives from adding 15% Petit Verdot to its To Kalon Cabernet. A standout wine at this event, and an outstanding wine in general.
Anyway, enough of this banter this New Year’s Day, 4707! 红包拿来!

I have GOT to learn how to swill & spit!

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So Saturday was supposed to be the big day when I made my public debut as a wine blogger and budding entrepreneur at the Wine Questers Taste n Tell gathering on Treasure Island. I say “supposed to be” because the good folks at FedEx Office (née Kinko’s) managed to turn my quick printing of a dozen or so makeshift business cards into a 2+ hour ordeal—I would elaborate further, but the manager called me Sunday and offered to print up a whole box of cards on, naturally, recycled paper stock gratis.
Anyway, I rushed out across the Bay Bridge (halfway, actually) and arrived at the warehouse winery VIE shares with Blue Cellars on the old naval base at around 4:40 pm, only to discover the event has wound its way back to San Francisco a home in the Marina. After a frantic call on my iPhone and another furious drive back over the Bridge and across the City, I arrived at the makeshift tasting room for Canihan Cellars, a mere 12 blocks from my house (as opposed to the impromptu 30-mile, traffic-filled loop I had taken). Of course, my belated arrival meant that I missed out on six of the seven wineries Taste n Tell was featuring, but at least I had a half-dozen business cards to pass around. Moral of the story: if you don’t drink, drive (or so I guess).
Now the whole idea behind Taste n Tell was that all of us technophilic wine critics were suppose to sample the offerings from VIE, Blue Cellars, Morningwood Wines, Treasure Island Wines, AP Vin, Sol Rouge and Canihan Cellars, then instantaneously report our findings on an array of social network sites via iPhone or Blackberry. Of course, in my case, this was pared down to only the last of the seven wineries. And, I have to confess, I’m kind of new to both parts of this proposition, not just the dexterity required for rapid thumb-typing but the professional protocol of wine tasting. In other words, I still swallow my sample pour. Two rounds of six different wines and the Touch Screen becomes an amalgam of blurs and typos.
Nonetheless, I am happy to report, from the recesses of my memory, that Canihan Family Cellars is quite an impressive wine operation for one so small and relatively young. Their organic vineyards in Sonoma are managed by Phil Coturri, one of those can’t-seem-to-miss stalwarts of the wine industry and produce a formidable lineup of Pinot Noir, Syrah and Cabernet Franc.
Now I happen to be quite the fan of most what I would term also-ran varietals, like Petit Verdot and Pinot Meunière (not to mention Aglianico, Albariño, Arneis, etc.), something that will become more evident throughout this blog and in our Sostevinobile wine bars. I tasted both Canihan’s 2005 and 2006 Cabernet Franc and was elated. The earlier vintage, which won a Gold Medal at the 2008 San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition particularly stood out for its peppery bite and remains quite the bargain at $20.
Canihan offers both Pinot Noir and Syrah under their eponymous label, as well as in a special bottling they call Exuberance. The name could not be more à propos. Their Pinot Noirs are grown “just across the street” from the Los Carneros AVA on the Caroline’s Block of their Sonoma Valley vineyard and exhibit a full-bodied, rich
flavor and aroma with distinct echoes of their terroir. Again, the 2005 Exuberance Pinot Noir won gold medals from both the 2008 San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition and the 2008 West Coast Wine Competition.
The crown jewel of this jewel of a winery, though, is its Syrah, again with a much-heralded 2005 vintage under both the Canihan Cellars and Exuberance labels. In 2007, their inaugural offering, the 2004 Syrah pulled off an incredible feat by winning Double Gold Medal (as Best Syrah) and being judged the Best Red Wine of Show in the 2007 San Francisco International Wine Competition (out of over 4,3000 wines entered). Any description I might personally offer would pale in comparison.
So perhaps I can be forgiven, at least this time, for not relegating my 15 ml sips of these wonderful wines to Paul Giamatti’s favorite brass spittoon. There will be plenty more tastings to come and by then my wine vocabulary should have tacked on the word “Strewth!”