Category Archives: Cabernet Sauvignon

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

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.

“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!

Please don’t turn these Rockstars into a LivingSocial App on Facebook!

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Here’s an intriguing conundrum: if you could somehow reassemble one great rock band, in its original incarnation, which would you choose? Of course, The Beatles is too obvious a choice, kinda like ordering a magnum of 1947 Cheval Blanc to accompany your last meal. Personally, I’m torn. Blind Faith might have been at the top of my list (after all, everyone is still alive), but then I heard the Cream reunion and, hard as it is to admit, they sounded a bit…anemic. But since this is a hypothetical query, I’d narrow my selection to three bands at their now-defunct apex, based on sheer musicianship (so much for Led Zeppelin, I’m afraid).

The Band comes first to mind. These guys weren’t about making popular albums—they set out to make great albums. Music from Big Pink, Stage Fright, and their self-titled second album, The Band, still hold up as modern masterpieces. In music circles, many of the leading performers of the day held this quintet in complete awe, something readily apparent in the enthusiasm with which they contributed to The Band’s epochal live albums, Rock of Ages and The Last Waltz. If only there’d been a way to stop the feud between Robbie Robertson and Levon Helm…

The Band was a hybrid of Canadian and New Orleans musicians. Another group that blend the New Orleans sound with contemporary California style was Little Feat. Driven by the seamless slide guitar of the late Lowell George and the unmistakable barrelhouse blues rifts from Bill Payne’s keyboards, there is little wonder why more bands named the Feat as their favorite band (apart from their own ensemble). No album gets more play on my iPod these days than Waiting for Columbus.

Alas, however, Little Feat must step aside for the ultimate band for which I’d pay a Warren Buffett-sized fortune to hear just once in its original lineup. As Bill Graham put it the night The Allman Brothers Band closed the Fillmore East, “In all my life, I’ve never heard the kind of music this group plays—the finest contemporary music.” Perhaps he should have said “timeless.” Listening to the live version of One Way Out as I pen this entry, it’s hard to believe the sophistication and intricacy of their music, especially considering they were all under 25 at the time. Trying to imagine what they might have produced had both Berry Oakley and Duane Allman not been killed in separate motorcycle accidents simply makes one shiver.

Of course, I’m keenly aware that readers are entitled to their own choices, but please show some restraint. This is a professional blog, after all, not a social networking site! This entry meanders, with my usual penchant for digression, because I could find no more apt analogy to describe my wonderment—and pleasure—at the rockstar lineup that came out to pour at Acme Fine Wine
’s inaugural Atelier tasting last Saturday.

Here, in no particular order, was an assembly of a dozen winemakers who could make even an ardent Francophile take pause: Pam Starr, Dave Phinney, Russell Bevan, Craig MacLean, Andy Erickson, Philippe Melka, Sarah Gott, Mike Hirby, Robbie Meyer, Mark Herold, and Heidi Barrett. Drawing upon the sundry labels they either produce directly or act as consulting winemaker, this coterie poured over 50 different wines. As I remarked to Acme principal David Stevens, it reminded me of the Déjà Vu strip club chain’s trademark: “1000’s of Beautiful Girls and Three Ugly Ones.” Only I’d’ve been hard pressed to name even one ugly one from this lot—each wine was a revelation to the palate.

As such, I am almost hesitant to highlight the handful of wines I felt garnered special citation, especially considering the brevity of the notes I took. My taste memory may be long, perhaps even synæsthesic, but the truncated entries I managed to record in the program guide we received barely merit the term “chirographic.” Or legible. And I challenge anyone to record their findings on 50 wines with a iPhone touchpad! Nonetheless, I did find standouts in Philippe Melka’s 2006 Vineyard 29 Aida Estate Cabernet Sauvignon and Celia Welch Masyczek’s 2006 Scarecrow Cabernet Sauvignon.

Celia’s indelible touch was abundantly evident in the 2006 Keever Cabernet Sauvignon, a wine owners Bill and Olga Keever justifiably call “the best wine we have made to date.” Similarly distinguishable was the 2006 Bialla Cabernet from Craig MacLean and Pam Starr’s 2006 Crocker & Starr Cabernet Sauvignon. Rarely does a Cab winemaker excel on par with a Pinot, but her 2006 Adastra Pinot Noir was every bit the equal of her Bordeaux varietals. Classic Bordeaux blends that tantalized included Mike Hirby’s 2006 Roy J. Maier Cabernet Sauvignon and Andy Erickson’s 2005 Dancing Hares.

My truncated notes for Mark Herold describe his 2006 Kamen Cabernet Sauvignon as “pure chocolate.” My assessment of the 2005 Barbour Cabernet Sauvignon that Heidi Peterson Barrett crafted was no less lofty. Of course, there is more to the viticultural realm than great Cabernet; a most capable proponent of this tenet, Robbie Meyer, deftly offset the heat of the gathering with his proprietary 2007 Peirson Meyer Chardonnay. Also qualifying: Sarah Gott’s 2006 Blackbird Vineyards Illustration, a predominantly Merlot-based blend, with both Cabernets (Franc and Sauvignon) rounding it out. No stranger to blends, Dave Phinney produced his 2005 Orin Swift Papillon with the full complement of the classic Bordeaux varietals. Meanwhile, Russell Bevan offered his eponymous 2007 Bevan Red, a blend of 45% Cabernet Franc and 45% Cabernet Sauvignon, balanced out with 10% Merlot. His 2006 Dry Stack Syrah was equally pleasing.

The true revelation of this event (reaffirmation, actually, for the many cognoscenti in the crowd) was the amazing breadth and quality of the wines being produced here. It seems fashionable, particularly in certain dining circles, to denigrate California wines as lacking subtlety or, worse, adhering
to an indistinguishable conformity (see the comments appended to Michael Bauer’s recent Does buying local apply to wine?). The Atelier tasting incontrovertibly demonstrated that these local vintages are anything but monolithic and can hold their own against any other wines.

Before concluding, I would be remiss if I didn’t pay tribute to the marvelous food that accompanied this event. David and Mimi Katz, the caterers at Panevino, share the same building as Acme Fine Wines, and cranked out an abundance of chichetti throughout the afternoon. I do hope, however, that my fellow blogger, Napa Man, is premature in pronouncing the Atelier as the premier tasting of the year. I, for one, am looking forward to see how David and Karen might outdo themselves with Atelier II. But, as a long-standing Acme denizen who decried the lapse of their annual anniversary party at the Tucker Farm Center while they located to this site in 2008, I can happily say that this tasting more than mitigated for the omission!

It ain’t just about the wine!

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Be Altitude: Respect Yourself. Back when The Staples Singers released this album in 1972, Napa Valley wine had yet to earn a decent modicum of respect beyond limited confines within the Bay Area. Thirty-seven years later, it seems fairly inarguable that these wines have elevated themselves to more than a pinnacle of success.

Last Thursday, the insightful crew over at Uncorked Events put together a tasting from some of the finest recent viticultural endeavors in California. April 23rd has long been one of the more propitious dates on the calendar, marking the birth of both William Shakespeare (1564) and Vladimir Nabokov (1899); Napa Valley with Altitude did its considerable part to complement this historical legacy.

The event focused on wines from the three sub-AVAs that demarcate the Mayacamas Mountains: Mt. Veeder, Spring Mountain, and Diamond Mountain. Not surprisingly, Cabernet Sauvignon, along with kindred Bordeaux varietals and blends thereof, dominated the tasting selections. Chardonnay had numerous proponents, as well, along with a smattering of Syrah and one heteroclitic Sangiovese to appease Your West Coast Oenophile.

With 36 wineries on hand, it would be nigh impossible to highlight each here. Virtually every wine I tasted offered depth and complexity, and it is in no way intended as critique if I fail to delve into greater detail.Certainly, Sostevinobile will be pleased to offer the preponderance of these distinctive vintages (as fall within the economic determinants we are compelled to observe). But before I attempt to assay the list of wines I felt warranted particular kudos, I’d like to elucidate what truly distinguished this tasting from so many others that I attend.

I probably sample a few thousand wines each year, both within my professional capacity and for my private enjoyment. This process often requires me to attend many of the large trade and public tastings put on by various wine associations and commercial promoters. While these duties may not prove as enviable as, say, being the official ice cream taster at Dreyer’s, it is definitely one of the more pleasurable tasks to which one can be assigned. Still, these events can be overwhelming—the ZAP Grand Tasting, for instance, fills two exhibit halls at Fort Mason!

However, for a tasting of its scale, Napa Valley with Altitude was the most pleasurable event I have encountered in quite a long while. Three rooms at the Fort Mason Officers’ Club were commodiously laid out to accommodate each of the sub-AVAs, creating an intimate locus for sampling wines and interacting with each winery’s representative. The rooms all afforded panoramic views of San Francisco Bay and Aquatic Park, which were bathed in sunlight Thursday afternoon. Generous helpings of both warm and cold hors d’oeuvres—a must for keeping up with five hours’ worth of wine tasting—were continually replenished by the caterers from Mariposa Kitchen and from AG Ferrari. Sofas, tables, and even a fireplace in the vestibule offered a welcome retreat from the din of the gathering when such was needed for composing notes or merely collecting one’s thoughts. All-in-all, even with a moderate crowd in attendance during the public segment, this venue seemed closer to a private living room than a leviathan warehouse. If only all wine trade events could feel so accessible!

And then there was the wine. Most of my colleagues beelined over to Spring Mountain Vineyard’s 2004 Elivette, a Bordeaux blend that emphasized Cabernet Sauvignon. Back when my friend Mike Robbins owned this winery, it was featured as the setting for Falcon Crest; the current ownership still makes an enviable Cabernet Sauvignon (2005), as well.

Another old friend whose Cabernet never disappoint was Peter Thompson, who was on hand to pour his 2005 Andrew Geoffrey Cabernet Sauvignon. I confess to indulging myself more than once at his table. On the other hand, I never knew the late actor Richard Farnsworth, who, despite his appearance in Olympia Beer’s insipid commercials from the 1980s, nevertheless always managed to evoke a kind of warm & fuzzy feeling in whatever role he played; Richard Graeser’s portrait on his Graeser Winery labels might seem a veritable doppelgänger for the Grey Fox star, but his flagship Bordeaux-style 2005 Couer de Leon was unmistakable. Other standout Diamond Mountain District Cabs from the Class of 2005 included Dyer Vineyard, Diamond Terrace, the old pros at Martin Ray Winery and Schramsberg scion Hugh Davies venture into still wines with his J. Davies tribute.

Perhaps “old pro” is a tad premature for describing Newton Vineyard, but their strict adherence to offering unfiltered wines shone exemplarily in their 2005 Merlot, 2006 Chardonnay and 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon. As with their fellow vintners from Diamond Mountain, the rest of the Spring Mountain contingent shone most brightly with their 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon—notably Marston Family Vineyard, Peacock Family Vineyards, Vineyard 7 & 8, and, with striking panache, Sherwin Family Vineyards 2005 Estate Cabernet Sauvignon.

A Spring Mountain newcomer to me, Terra Valentine Winery, poured a trio of their estate-bottled Cabs. Ever-so-slightly, the 2005 Wurtele Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon, stood out among the three. Unabashedly proclaiming itself, Mount Veeder’s Vinoce Vineyards 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon might have inspired one to abjure all others (OK, maybe that’s a bit extreme). Still, my remaining notes do seem to focus on other vintages, like the 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon from Diamond Mountain’s Kiss Ridge Vineyards or the bi-county mélange Pride Mountain Vineyards assembles for its stellar 2006 Napa/Sonoma Cabernet Sauvignon. From Spring Mountain, Paloma Vineyard’s 2006 Merlot heartily echoed the 2001 vintage that garnered them a #1 ranking among Wine Spectator’s Top 100 Wines.

Mount Veeder’s representatives tended to feature standout blends. sounding almost Shakespearean, Godspeed Vineyards married Cabernet Sauvignon, Malbec and Syrah to produce their 2005 Trinity. Marketta Fourmeaux, the longtime producer of her eponymous Marketta Vineyards label, introduced her latest foray, Hand Made with its 2006 Mt. Veeder Blend (Cabernet Sauvignon, Malbec, Merlot). Wine ingénues Mary and Whitney Yates might have had the Ginkgo Girl fuming at the attention I paid them, but their Yates Family Vineyard’s 2005 Alden Perry Reserve, a Merlot-dominated blend balanced out with both Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon, would surely have appeased her.

The sisters Yates also impressed with their 2005 Cheval, their showcase 100% Cabernet Franc. Another breathtaking 2005 Cabernet Franc came from Spring Mountain’s Guilliams Vineyards, a fitting tribute to the birthday and translated surname co-owner Shawn Guilliams was sharing with the aforementioned Bard of Avon. Despite the name it shares with the nomenclature-obsessed Grand Cru châteaux, LaTour Vineyards shared a superb Burgundian-style 2006 Napa Valley Chardonnay. With no conflict to its name, Paras Vineyard offered a remarkable array of wines, resounding with their 2007 Grenache, 2005 Syrah and a contrasting pair of Viognier from both 2005 and 2006.

The earliest vintage of the tasting came from Random Ridge, with a 2001 Cabernet Sauvignon that hopefully proved a harbinger for where all the wondrous 2005 Cabs I tasted at Napa Valley with Altitude will be heading. But readers of this blog will not be surprised that the 2006 Fortunata, their extraordinary expression of Sangiovese, was the wine that held me rapt at this most delightful event.

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…

Best to Drink from Years 7DD to 7E5; San Jose Mercury News Rating: 5E pts.

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That’s Silicon Valley parlance for “drink between 2013 and 2021” and a “95 point rating.”** These hexadecimal assessments may even be modest for Ridge Winery’s 7D5—I mean, 2005 Monte Bello. As I mentioned to my hosts last Sunday, at Ridge’s First Assemblage tasting for the 2008 Monte Bello, I have yet to taste such a complex 2005 Cabernet (70% Cabernet Sauvignon, 22% Merlot, 6% Petit Verdot, 2% Cabernet Franc), so much so that it demands being set down for at least 15 years. Winemaker Eric Baugher insists that the current vintage, an uncharacteristic blend of 81% Cabernet Sauvignon and 19% Merlot portends to become one of their benchmark releases, superior, in fact, to the 1971 Monte Bello that placed first in the 2006 reenactment of the Judgment of Paris.

Your West Coast Oenophile tends to be a bit of an agnostic when it comes to Ridge. I have always held them in exalted esteem not so much for their single vineyard Zinfandels but for the “off-varietal” selections they produce intermittently: Mataro (Mourvèdre), Carignane, and Grenache, as well as single varietals and blends with Syrah and Petite Sirah. But the real virtue of the winery comes out on a crystal-clear day like Sunday, where panoramic views from some 2200′ up make Silicon Valley look like a vast Legoland below—a realized metaphor, as some might say.

Ridge is not the only winery on Black Mountain. As you approach the hairpin turns en route to the summit, you first encounter Picchetti, a winery and preserve that is all too frequently overlooked by Ridge pilgrims, much in the way the more demure Jan Smithers got overlooked for the amply-endowed Loni Anderson on WKRP in Cincinnati. If you somehow manage to miss Ridge, you’ll encounter the rarely-accessible Fellom Ranch Winery. Almost as far up the mountain, on the side of Montebello Road overlooking the valley, Don Naumann operates his eponymous Naumann Vineyards from the aerie he built just below Ridge’s original operations. Like Fellom Ranch, it is only open on select weekends and by appointments.

Last Sunday, Naumann held a couple of private tastings and put out their sandwich boards to direct visitors to their deck. Having never had the opportunity to visit this winery, I took my chances and veered off to the side on my way back from the Assemblage tasting. I would hazard to guess that few, if any, would-be burglars would set their sites on a home 16 miles up an inexorable series of hairpin turns, so it’s a fairly safe assumption that a stranger traipsing across your back porch at 5 PM is likely there to try your wines. Even though Don had already closed up for the day, he happily brought out two glasses and two bottlings each of his Chardonnay and his Merlot. The latter, which he grows on his two Montebello properties, quite clearly constitutes his pet project and his passion show in the wine. The 2004 Estate Merlot was an honest, fruit-forward expression of the varietal, easily drinkable now and a wonderful complement to a lighter cut of beef or a red meat medallion (think ostrich)! In contrast, the 2005 Estate Merlot is a wine waiting to happen, not quite the two decades before the Monte Bello will reach maturity, but easily three-five years away from hitting full stride.

Don and I must have spent close to an hour sitting on his porch, over looking the expanse of Santa Clara County, discussing winemaking, viticulture and my plans for Sostevinobile. He could not have been more hospitable. Recently, the Ginkgo Girl and I rented Bottle Shock, a somewhat apocryphal version of the 1976 Judgment of Paris tasting. I recall Bill Pullman’s Jim Barrett telling Steven Spurrier (Alan Rickman) how people in the Napa Valley were different and genuinely bonded together as a community. Jim Warren of Freemark Abbey always used to tell me, “It isn’t just the wine. It’s the lifestyle we have here.” I wish I had understood that better while he was still alive. The same could be said for the beauty and tranquility along Montebello Road and the people who inhabit it.

There is a pre-fab, monlithic conformity to much of Silicon Valley that seems, apart from the form & functional design of the Apple product line, almost impervious to a sense of aesthetics. Fortunately, this rigid orthodoxy has not made it up the way of the Valley’s western slopes. The people who operate the nearby Lehigh-Hanson Cement Quarry have ambitions to expand their operations significantly, a move that would have significant environmental repercussions throughout the nearby region, including the vineyards on Black Mountain. To counter this proposed devastation, please visit and endorse Quarry No!

**The hexadecimal conversions were hard enough to derive. Please d
on’t even think to ask for them in binary!

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…

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.

Go East, Young Man!

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Is there a substantive difference between Napa and Sonoma or are they merely two faces of the same coin? Your West Coast Oenophile does not engage in the San Francisco vs. Los Angeles dichotomy nor harbor any desire to plunge into this debate. Sostevinobile strives to be inclusive for all the wines that meet a sustainable threshold while exemplifying the highest standards of winemaking. To paraphrase Charlie the Tuna, we seek wines that taste good (and with good taste).

Nonetheless, there is a physical demarcation between these two premier winegrowing counties, so I headed east across the border for the second day of my wine swing. The powers that be were not about to underwrite a stay at Meadowood nor dinner at Bouchon (or even Ad Hoc, for that matter), so I settled for a highly overrated motel and a quick bite at Bounty Hunter. Afterwards, I fell sway to the siren call of Ali Weiss, a gifted solo performer gracing the nearby Downtown Joe’s with a full encore set. A complimentary CD and a couple shots of Balvenie later, I zigzagged back to my pool-less downtown resort, to the strains of a less mellifluous siren and an eventual night’s sleep.

As with my day in Sonoma, I started off tending to the environmental development of our premises. Immediately, I recognized that Bardessono, a premier green resort which had just opened two days before, was by far the preferable place to have stayed. Renowned eco-developer Phil Sherburne and I sat out by one of his pebble-lined reflecting pools and discussed matters of sustainable development and mutual interest. I hope we forged a relationship that will bear considerable fruit as becomes as Sostevinobile a more tangible reality.

From there, the rest of my day was devoted introducing our project to several of the wineries, a circuit that ranged from the quaint basement operations of Charter Oak to the opulence of Staglin and Darioush, a gleaming personal monument along the Silverado Trail. Someday, I would hope I could produce a Cabernet to rival their 2005 Signature Cabernet Sauvignon! In between my stops, I managed a double Joel Gott, first at his obligatory Taylor’s Automatic Refresher, a McDonald’s-be-damned paragon of drive-in burger stops, then for a golf cart-chauffered tour of The Ranch, a humongous custom crush facility in what once housed Sutter Home’s White Zinfandel operations.

An impromptu stop at Conn Creek reintroduced me to their 2005 Anthology, as well as a number of deep, rich Cabernets I had tasted last fall at Taste Napa Valley; this time, the experience was amplified by the charms and graciousness of a hyperenthusiastic young wine pourer named Amy, who confided that she had been “bitten” by the wine bug (a generation ago, I might have been “smitten”). And herein lies a contrast Your West Coast Oenophile is willing to make, between the impersonal harshness of the urbanized realm and the heartfelt accommodation one feels amid the tranquility of the vines.

From the jaded perspective of a city dweller, I am amazed how readily, with little prior introduction, people in Napa and throughout the wine country invite you into their homes and how warmly they receive you. Be it the understated setting of Rob Fanucci’s grandfather’s cottage or Shari Staglin’s commanding Rutherford estate, the civility is unaffected, if not a natural extension of their dedication to the wine that they craft.

Back when I began combing the Napa Valley, I used to stop by the Jim Warren’s St. Helena real estate office, lured, in part, by the cookies his wife Maggie would bake for me. Jim, whose father had been the governor of California and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, was a crewcut, pipe-smoking former Marine who nonetheless took on a decidedly avuncular liking to me. “It’s not just the wine,” he’d pointedly advise me. “It’s the lifestyle.”

Wish I could tell him today how right he turned out to be.