Category Archives: Viognier

Hinduism had damn well better be wrong!

This isn’t part of my incessant rant against those infuriating outsourced call centers whose mangling of even the most basic tenets of conversational English (“how might I best facilitate the rectification of your importuned perturbance most congruently Mr. Marc?”) manages to elicit threats annihilating Bangalore from this foresworn pacifist. Rather, I speak of their—one would certainly hope—erroneous concept of reincarnation, where even a minor malfeasance could condemn a poor soul to enduring a subsequent lifecycle as an aardvark or some scatophagous species like a housefly.
If there really is reincarnation, I want to come back as Jamaican or a Caribbean Islander. Not because I find the accent so appealing. Nor is it necessarily the allure of a tropical climate or the island cuisine that is primarily focused on fresh fruit and seafood. And rest assured, Your West Coast Oenophile is not secretly harboring a desire to switch from wine to rum. Or ganja. No, in my next life, I simply want to be a professional steel drum player.
Wafts of reggae fusion filled the lawn at the Oakland Ferry terminal Saturday afternoon as the East Bay Vintners Alliance staged their fourth annual Urban Wine Experience. For a moment, it almost seemed that UB40 was entertaining the crowd, but the sound belonged entirely to Bay Area Caribbean stars Pan Extasy, with their star percussionist, Ashton Craig. To call Craig a virtuoso on the steel drum is an understatement—his tantalizing arrangements of The Temptations’ Just My Imagination and Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl to reggae standards like No Woman, No Cry and I Can See Clearly Now provided the perfect backdrop to these sun-drenched festivities.
I was in attendance on behalf of Sostevinobile and, of course, to taste the wines that an eclectic collection of 16 East Bay vintners exhibited. The organizers of this event smartly paired each of the wineries with an individual food purveyor from the East Bay, as well, and I would be remiss in not recognizing the contributions of Adagia Restaurant, Angela’s Bistro, Asena Restaurant, Bellanico, Bucci, C’era Una Volta (a return visit from June’s Golden Glass), Culina, E-22 Café, Fabrique Délices, Levende East, the resurrected Miss Pearl’s Jam House, Pappo, Savory Cook Special Event Catering, Whole Foods, and—truly the last word in culinary circles—Zza’s Trattoria, Enoteca & Catering. As readers might expect, the abundance of Italian cuisine was hardly a disappointment. Various duck dishes seemed to abound, as well; a portent of which may well have been the huge gaggle of 60+ waterfowl I espied as I drove into Oakland, huddled together on nearby Coast Guard Island as if in complete trepidation of what lay ahead down the road.
As I had at P.S. I Love You, I started the tasting with Rock Wall, eager to sample what they were producing beyond Petite Sirah. Though young, I found their 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley showed great promise. Standout for me, though, was their 2007 Zinfandel Sonoma County, which I felt exceeded the Reserve version they were also pouring. Over at the next table, parent winery Rosenblum Cellars filled in for the regrettably absent Stage Left Cellars. Frankly, if they would always pour their 2007 Rockpile Zinfandel, I’d be happy to let them substitute for any winery they wished!
Rosenblum also poured their 2007 Fess Parker Roussanne. I generally find Roussanne preferable to Marsanne, except in the case of Alameda’s groundbreaking winery, where the latter varietal has always outshone the former (this afternoon proved no exception). Ironically, Rosenblum’s former winemaker, Jeff Cohn’s JC Cellars poured their 2007 Preston Vineyards Marsanne, alongside an excellent catfish entrée from Miss Pearl’s Jam House; I found it slightly wanting compared to his previous efforts, but satisfying nonetheless. Better exemplifying his skills was the 2007 Smoke & Mirrors, a Syrah balanced out 9% Petite Sirah and 6% Zinfandel. Quite a satisfying wine! At the next table, Rob Lynch’s Irish Monkey can best be described as a quixotic operation with some notable offerings. Their chilled 2008 Chardonnay Davis was most welcome in the 85°F heat, while their 2006 Syrah Lovall Valley was noteworthy in it own right. As instructed, I washed down C’era Una Volta’s creamy polenta plate with the 2006 Sangiovese Amador—indeed, it was splendid.
Valdiguié is not the most complex varietal, despite its tongue-twisting morphology; still, it readily adapts to a blush expression (again, quite welcome on a sweltering afternoon). I chilled down with Urbano Cellars’ version, their 2008 Vin Rosé, Green Valley and also found myself grateful for their 2006 Petit Verdot, Lodi. Unfortunately, their next door neighbor, Urban Legend, had promised to bring a tantalizing selection of Sangiovese, Teroldego, and Nebbiolo, but only mustered a premature sample of their unreleased Barbera. Allora!
A number of familiar faces were pouring this afternoon. Oakland standout Dashe Cellars brought an exceptional 2007 Zinfandel, Dry Creek Valley and 2008 Vin Gris, Dry Creek Valley (a blend of 40% Grenache, 30% Zinfandel and 30% Petite Sirah) to match. I also enjoyed their 2007 Dry Riesling, McFadden Farms Potter Valley. French-affiliated Aubin Cellars offered a fetching pair of Pinots from their Verve Label, the 2007 Pinot Noir Monterey Old Vines and the 2006 Pinot Noir Sonoma Coast—I forget which I preferred!
Even if Eno Wines was substandard, it would still be a pleasure to see Sasha Verhage and his wife Kiara. Nonetheless, their 2006 Yes Dear (Grenache, Eaglepoint Ranch), 2006 Acre of Happiness (Zinfandel, Teldeschi) and 2006 In Your Own Time (Syrah, Las Madres) all stood out as exemplary. I’ve also long enjoyed the wines from R & B Cellars, though I had yet to make the acquaintance of Kevin Brown before this afternoon. Ironically, none of their musically-themed labels (Swingville, Zydeco, Serenade) echoed the diverse selection (socca, reggae, calypso, Caribbean Jazz) that Pan Extasy included in its repertoire, which may account for why I was extremely partial to his 2004 Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon and am eagerly awaiting the 2005 version.
This penchant for quaint names extended to Prospect 772, perhaps my favorite discovery of the afternoon. Along with some intriguing offerings from Bucci’s in Emeryville, including a shaved fennel cold dish, I reveled in their 2008 Baby Doll Dry Rosé, the self-styled pugnacious 2006 The Brawler (a Syrah tempered with 4% Viognier) and their standout 2006 The Brat (a 80% Grenache/20% Syrah blend). Another newcomer, Andrew Lane, blended Syrah, Zinfandel and Valdiguié to make their 2007 Andrew Lane Rosso Napa Valley. More distinctive, however, was their 2005 Andrew Lane Merlot and their multi-vintage Gamay Noir Four Vineyards Napa Valley.
On the food side of things, the Urban Wine Experience began with a Duck Paté and finished with a Duck Confit. This latter concoction paired up admirably with the 2005 Troubadour Paso Robles, an equal blend of Grenache and Petite Syrah from Tayerle. Though not listed on the program, they also poured their just-released 2006 Sun King, a Bordeaux-style red blended from Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Verdot and Malbec. Of course, I managed to save some room for dessert, which consisted of pure liquid delight in the form of Mango Wine and Persimmon Wine from Adams Point.
On my way out, I held the iPhone up to Pan Extasy’s bandstand, so the Ginkgo Girl could hear a portion of what she had missed. It would be a shame if she misses any more of these gatherings. Nicely tanned and filled with both good wine and good duck, I strolled through Jack London Square and quiet soberly made my way back to San Francisco (after all, it would have been a shame to meet my end after such an enjoyable afternoon).
I still sometimes think the world is merely a figment of my imagination and therefore feel compelled to remain alive forever. But if I do go and reappear, I had better not downgrade to mallard the next time around. Human (or better) is a must, and if I am not gifted with an uncanny ear for melody, an intuitive sense of rhythm, and agile hands that can hammer out an intoxicating Calypso melody across the gleaming metal surface of a kettle drum, then at least let me come back as tall as fellow locavore pioneer and Caribbean rum authority Thad Vogler!

Sostevinobile doesn’t want wines with good taste…

Sostevinobile wants wines that taste good.
was just turning off I-280 last night when the radio station announced Budd Schulberg had died. Best known for his Academy Award-winning screenplay for On the Waterfront (“I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender.”), Schulberg was a proud veteran of the Dartmouth Jack-O-Lantern, a publication that also spawned such luminaries as Dr. Seuss and Animal House writer Chris Miller. Not to mention Your West Coast Oenophile and my compatriot for the evening, Jim Lattin, the Robert A. Magowan Professor of Marketing at Stanford Business School.

For those who have heard me rail over the years against the myopia of MBAs (“Mind Becomes Atrophied”) and inveigh against the damage they have inflicted on the true creative spirit, this may seem like the most unholy of alliances, on par with seeing yours truly happily washing down a Big Mac with a glass of Fat Bastard while cranking out a manuscript in Microsoft Word on a Dell laptop. All jest aside, it may well turn out that some of Jim’s young protégés provide the impetus to turn Sostevinobile a brick & mortar reality. It was one of the most opportune meetings I have held in quite some time.
It so happened that we caught up at a quaint wine bar I occasionally frequent on treks to destinations between San Francisco and Legoland (an epithet guaranteed to cull me no favor with Carl Guardino). It so happened that last night, they were holding a special tasting from a small vintner from one of the less-heralded local AVAs. Familiar story. Husband & wife team. Hands-on management. Hand-picked fruit. Sustainable growing practices. Sincere. In short, all the qualities Sostevinobile looks for in a winery.
The wines could not have been more bland.
It does pain me to reject a winery’s efforts outright, although there have been several I have declined to extol among the more than 800 wineries from whom I’ve sampled product over the past 9 months. In keeping with my practice, I simply eschew mentioning these ventures in this blog and relegate them to a Do Not Consider category in my database. Still, it’s important for this readership and for our future clientele to realize that Sostevinobile is highly selective and judicious in the wines we identify for inclusion in our program.
Readers of this blog know that my approach has been simply to identify wines that I find meritorious and include them without delving into extensive descriptions of their character and flavor. I don’t presuppose that how something tastes to me will be how it tastes to someone else. I prefer that people sample the wines I recommend and evaluate them by their own criteria, without the influence of my specifications. Moreover, as a writer, I reject the notion that I can verbalize or assimilate any kind of sensory experience through the deft application of florid prose. But, in deference to Jim’s wish that I expound my insights into my selections, let me try to detail why these wines failed to garner my approval.
We sampled six pourings from the winery in question: four basic varietals, a late harvest dessert wine and a fortified port-style interpretation of one of their varietals. Each could best be categorized as monodimensional, an unambitious expression of the grape with scant vinification employed. It seemed little effort was incorporated to encourage a distinctive expression of the varietal; a rudimentary grow-harvest-crush-ferment-age-bottle approach that precluded the artistry a skilled winemaker to educe a wine that has been memorably crafted. In this case, it seemed the wines had barely evolved from the very pedestrian approach winemakers in the early 1980s slid by on.
To be more specific, we first sampled this winery’s version of Viognier. No oak, stainless steel fermentation, an unadorned expression of this varietal that was almost cloying. Most wineries, of course, are still struggling to define exactly how they want to produce Viognier, and, as a result, there have been enormous vicissitudes in how it has been approached here in California. The heavily-oaked, Chardonnay version rapidly fell out of favor, but it has been apparent for quite some time, that a wholly unmanipulated interpretation of the grape holds little charm, either. The result is that many of the local Viogniers, like the aforementioned vintage satisfy neither as a refreshing, cocktail-style wine nor as a complement to food.
In contrast, this wine bar’s owner offered us a blind sampling of a white from a well-respected, nearby vintner that tasted exquisite —so much so, that I withdrew my initial guess of Viognier and hazardly suggested that it might be a Pinot Grigio. The initial aromas bespoke a fruitiness that I’ve long identified with this grape, but the finish was uncommonly dry—the deft manipulation of a highly -skilled winemaker abundantly evident. Indeed, this particular Viognier echoed the marvelous wines Alban Vineyards produced at the beginning of this millennium, a limited-quality release that became my staple every time I partook of Alex Ong’s Green Papaya Salad at Betelnut. By comparison, the unremarkable Viognier from the visiting winery didn’t stand a chance.
To employ a bit of street vernacular, it is not the function of this blog to dis a particular wine or vintner. I draft these entries in order to lay a foundation for the richness of the wine program Sostevinobile is assembling. In truth, I applaud the efforts of the winery I have been dissecting here. On the surface, at least, they are attempting everything that we vigorously endorse in our winemaking community. But, in the end, it has to come down how the appeal of the wine itself; in other words, how it tastes.
To paraphrase the iconic StarKist tuna commercial, “Sorry, Charlie.”

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

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

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

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

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

All aboard!

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

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

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!

What kind of wine goes best with apostacy?

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.

On the Road Again (redux)

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

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!

Who wants to be a billionaire?

Apparently, I am nearly the last person to learn that Microsoft intimated at Wednesday’s CES kickoff that it is scrapping Vista. Not sure what that really means—I never use their derivative operating system nor any of the execrable software they publish. Besides, I was immersed in Macworld this week.
Still, back in 2000, I actually met Microsoft’s Big Kahuna. And I don’t mean the guy with the perennial $8 haircut.
We had just finished dinner at Viognier, a noted San Mateo restaurant and wine destination (how could it not be with a name like that?). Manned by Gary Danko at the helm of the kitchen, Viognier sat perched atop the 4th Avenue branch of Draeger’s, an upscale grocer with a rather impressive wine department in its own right, and had recently been voted the #2 restaurant in the entire Bay Area. As we exited the elevator to the sidewalk, whom should I see standing on the corner but current Microsoft CEO and America’s ninth-richest person, Steve Ballmer! Of course, recognizing Steve in public is a rather simple featone would not tend to describe him as a poster boy for 24 Hour Fitness. Nonetheless, I’m sure Danko’s gastronomic wonders managed to augment his ample girth by an inch or two.
Corpulent cracks aside, I decided to introduce myself (we actually have a number of acquaintances in common). Knowing he was deeply immersed in battling the Justice Department’s efforts to split his company into two or three separate entities, I extended my right hand in a semi-conciliatory manner and proffered, “Don’t worry, Steve. No matter what happens, they can never take away Microsoft’s ability to innovate.”
I’m not sure he ever caught my gist…