Category Archives: Sauvignon Blanc

Make Wine, not War—the Sequel

I haven’t written about the Punahou Kid since he took office. Of course, if he had actually accomplished anything beyond soaring rhetoric over the past nine months, I might have felt compelled to comment. Still, I find it alarmingly incongruent that a person perpetuating one war and escalating another can be accorded the world’s most revered award for the promulgation of pacifistic ideals. Failure to see the inherent contradiction here fundamentally correlates to an unabashed appreciation of the Blue Angels as a precision flight formation performing purely for entertainment value, while myopically ignoring the militaristic propaganda underlying such displays.

Far better to see military facilities turned to civilian use. Once again, Your West Coast Oenophile had the pleasure of visiting one such converted base, this time on the man-made Treasure Island, a four hundred acre development attached to the natural formation of Yerba Buena Island at the middle juncture of the Bay Bridge. This past Sunday, the first annual Treasure Island Wine Fest hosted Lodi on the Water, a celebration of more than 40 wineries from this surprisingly diverse AVA can no longer be considered the backwater of the California wine industry.

A chance to see old friends, a chance to meet new ones. Before I started developing Sostevinobile, the Ginkgo Girl and I ventured out to the delta for Lodi Zinfest on a day where the temperature rose above 100° F. Not exactly the most conducive way to pour or to taste wine. This weekend, however, a fog so heavy the Blue Angels had to cancel their Saturday performance hovered well into the afternoon before dissipating.

Not that the wines still weren’t in danger of overheating. An overwhelming crowd had already inundated the tent Treasure Island had recently erected to host large gatherings even before I arrived—and this was only the preview reception for media and trade. Dreading the arrival of the public attendees, I beelined over to the table for Mokelumne Glen, a winery I believe is the only producer in California devoted exclusively to German varietals. With such scant basis for comparison, I concede I feel somewhat hesitant to assess these wines, though the 2008 Late Harvest Kerner certainly ranked as one of the standouts; also quite pleasing, the 2008 Bacchus blended Müller-Thurgau with a Riesling/Sylvaner hybrid.

Another hybrid varietal grown with greater proliferation in Lodi is Symphony, a cross UC-Davis developed from Grenache Gris and Muscat of Alexandria. Abundance marries Symphony with Sauvignon Blanc to create their 2007 Bountiful Blanc, a most distinctive blend. I used to drink their 1999 Viognier almost religiously and had hoped to sample their current vintage, Nonetheless, their 2005 Abundantly Rich Red, a Carignane/Zinfandel mélange, provided more than satisfactory consolation. Murphys stalwart Ironstone Vineyards offered an undiluted interpretation of Symphony with their 2008 Obsession, but true kudos belonged to their 2006 Cabernet Franc.

Ironstone’s Kautz family also produces Christine Andrews as a more sophisticated line of wines. Certainly their 2007 Malbec, though still young, portended a promising evolution, but I found myself wishing they’d brought their 2005 Tempranillo as a benchmark.

Not that the afternoon was lacking for Spanish varietals. Assuredly, Lodi’s leader in this category has long been Bokisch Vineyards, which also spearheads Lodi Rules, the rigorous standard for sustainability throughout this AVA. Markus could not attend this event, owing to harvest duties, but, much to everyone’s delight, this wife was on hand to promote the winery. Liz is the kind of girl who could pour Two Buck Chuck and make it taste good, but her own wines required no embellishment. I found myself liking the 2008 Albariño better than its previous vintage, while the 2007 Garnacha outpaced the other reds she offered.

Standing just behind her, Harney Lane’s interpretation of Albariño seemed somewhat fruitier, but both their 2007 Zinfandel and their 2006 Petite Sirah were monumental expressions of their particular varietal. Housed in Elk Grove, McConnell Estates also produced a noteworthy 2006 Tempranillo, as well as a forthright 2006 Petite Sirah, while Acampo’s St. Jorge Winery accompanied its stellar 2007 Tempranillo with a refreshing take on the standard Portuguese white varietal with their 2008 Verdelho. With a motto of “No Boring Wines,” Ripken Vineyards certainly produces strikingly colorful labels, but I felt neither the 2005 Vintage Port nor the 2006 El Matador Tempranillo had quite the same con gusto zest that their packaging conveyed. Still, I was quite enamored of their immensely flavorful 2006 Late Harvest Viognier.

What? No Pinot? In addition to German and Iberian grapes, Lodi offers a wide range of Italian, Bordeaux and Rhône varietals, not to mention a ubiquitous supply of Zinfandel (interestingly, no one with whom I spoke ventured to mention Tokay or the other filler grapes that made up the bulk of Lodi’s growing 25 years ago). I typically think of Peltier Station for their Petite Sirah, and was pleased to discover their new Hybrid label, a line of sustainable wines that included a new 2007 Hybrid Petite Sirah, as well as a nicely drinkable 2008 Hydrid Pinot Grigio. Watts Winery is a small operation with a big heart—they produce a special On Wings of Hope line to benefit Burkitt’s lymphoma research. I wish they would have taken their 2005 Montepulciano to the tasting, but their 2005 Dolcetto Los Robles Vineyard Clements Hills was more than delightful in its own right. Time constrains caused me to overlook the 2007 Pinot Grigio from Van Ruiten Family Winery, though I did manage a taster’s sip of their splendid 2006 Cab-Shiraz.

Several years ago, I introduce Macchia to Consorzio Cal-Italia; this tasting offered a chance to reconnect and sample their 2007 Amorous Sangiovese and their 2007 Delicious Barbera (one of several versions of this varietal that they produce). Still, it was their library offering of the debut 2001 Barbera that really sent me back. St. Amant Winery also brought a pair of strong Barbera vintages, contrasting their 2007 Barbera with a just-released 2008 Barbera, Another old acquaintance, l’Uvaggio di Giacomo has simplified its name for non-Italian speakers (something Sostevinobile will never do!), but the new Uvaggio label is undiminished with an outstanding 2005 Barbera and a 2008 Vermentino that makes for an easy apéritif.

The Woodbridge Winery not only compelled the gargantuan industrial wineries in California to start making wines with an eye toward quality, it also catalyzed recognition for the potential of Lodi as a varietal-driven AVA. Although this facility’s repute has dwindled since Robert Mondavi stepped back from personal control, and portends to devolve into an indistinguishable jug factory under the current regime, they still managed to produce a respectable 2008 Vermentino for this event. I can’t say that Constellation’s other holding, Talus Winery, struck much of a positive chord with any of their offerings, while Gallo’s Barefoot Cellars seemed outright pedestrian compared to their heyday as part of Davis Bynum. Once again, I could not bring myself to warm up to any of the lackluster Campus Oaks wines that Gnekow Family mass-produces. Central Valley conglomerate Delicato Vineyards ponied up to the table with four disparate labels, and managed to make a slightly positive impression with their 2007 181 Merlot.

Back to accentuating the positive. One thing for certain, Lodi has know lack of inventiveness in coming up with offbeat names for their wines.Witness Michael~David Winery,which seemingly tries to squeeze more life out of a pun than juice can be extracted from a ton of grapes. From their collection of collection of 7 Deadly Zins, I immensely enjoyed the 2006 Gluttony Zinfandel and luxuriated in the 2005 Rapture Cabernet Sauvignon; also noteworthy but obvious, their 2007 Petite Petit, a Petit Verdot/Petite Sirah blend. Grands Amis also offered a young but promising 2007 Petit Verdot and a similarly evolving 2007 Première Passion, a Bordeaux-style blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Petit Verdot. Along with their noteworthy, 2007 Estate Petite Sirah, Vino Con Brio! shared their 2008 Estate Brillante, a deft mix of Viognier, Roussanne, Pinot Grigio and Sauvignon Blanc and the 2008 Passione Rosé, a blushing Sangiovese. Stama Winery made their pitch with the 2005 Curvaceous Cabernet and 2007 Zany Zin, but I cottoned more to their 2005 Late Harvest Sauvignon Blanc.In and of itself, Klinker Brick is a great name, so they can be excused if their 2007 Farrah Syrah is a tribute to owner Farrah Felten and not the late Charlie’s Angel. Besides, their 2007 Old Ghost Zin was enough to make one downright jiggly!

A pun on the name of owner Dave Dart led to the development of d’Art Wines, a highly stylized line of wines that feature the artwork of spouse Helen Rommel Dart on the labels. With lush red coloring on the inside of the bottles, as well, they painted a bold swath with both their 2007 Tempranillo and the 2007 Zinfandel. m2 Wines featured their 2007 Artist Series’ Zinfandel, a perennial commissioned showcase, along with their appealing Syrah/Petite Sirah mix, the 2006 Duality and the 2007 Trio, which blends the same varietal with a predominant Cabernet Sauvignon. The artwork of painter Chris Spencer adorns the very Van Gogh-like label for Barsetti Vineyards. Though it may seem heretical these days, their oaky 2006 Chardonnay outshone their steel-barreled version from the following vintage.; their 2006 Zinfandel showed quite nicely, too.

Several Lodi wineries stay close to the basics and produce quite admirable wines. The Lucas Winery offered a 2006 Chardonnay, as well as a panoply of different Zinfandel bottlings, featuring their 2005 Zinstar. I remain surprised that Maley Brothers still lacks a website, but their trio of 2004 Merlot, 2006 Petite Sirah and 2005 Zinfandel remained as true as when I’d previously sampled them. Lodi mainstay Berghold Vineyards, a long-standing acquaintance, brought out a truly elegant 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon, along with the debut of their 2006 Footstomp Zinfandel, both estate bottlings. And it was no onus to sample the 2007 Chardonnay and 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon from Onus Vineyards.

Readers know I am never hesitant to tweak the wineries, whenever I see an opening. I told Trinitas Cellars their 2006 Ratzinger Zinfandel tasted rather “papal;” I was also quite fond of their 2005 Old Vine Petite Sirah. I also thought Oak Ridge Winery needed a wine called Elvira, but they handled themselves quite ably with their 2007 3 Girls Cabernet Sauvignon and the 2005 Moss Roxx Zinfandel.

Call it an Italian thing—I’ll refrain from the obvious puns on Borra Winery, tempting though they may be. Their designated 45.7° series may seem eclectic to some, but their Fusion wines, particularly the 2008 Fusion–Red, a blend with 60% Syrah and 30% Petite Sirah (with other varietals comprising the remaining 10%) set the standard for this winery. I hold a similar respect for LangeTwins, a winery that has been cited for its implementation of sustainable technology and long-standing dedication to environmental preservation. Their 2007 Petit Verdot shows that their fidelity to the Lodi Rules only enhances the flavor of the wine; the 2005 Midnight Reserve is a finely-tuned Bordeaux blend, with Cabernet Sauvignon predominant.

Zinfandel being a hallmark of Lodi, it was not surprising to find some wineries exclusively featuring this varietal, like the Paul Simeon Collection, whose only pour was their 2007 St. Sophia Zinfandel. Benson Ferry staged a Zinfandel trifecta, with their 2006 95240 Zinfandel zipping by and winning by a nose. Jessie’s Grove Winery also featured a number of their Zinfandels, including the cleverly-named 2006 Earth, Zin & Fire and a deep 2006 Westwind Zinfandel; My true fondness, however, was reserved for their 2008 Chardonnay and the 2008 Jessence Blanc, a Roussanne/Viognier blend.

I concede that my fondness for Harmony Wynelands may have precipitated from the charms of event coordinator Kitty Wong, who was on hand to pour their esoteric 2006 GMA, a marriage of Mourvèdre, Grenache and Alicante Bouschet. This latter varietal, a cross between Grenache and Petit Bouschet, a hybrid vitis vinifera created from Aramon and Teinturier du Cher, which gives Alicante Bouschet the rarity of having red flesh; such a complex pedigree is cause for Harmony Wynelands to give its bottling the lofty appellation of 2005 Alicante Bouschet Premier Crush. On the less exotic side, I also found their 2006 Riesling quite approachable, as well.

In contrast, Heritage Oak Winery may have seemed to venture into the slightly exotic with their quite satisfying 2007 Vino Tinto, but its Spanish appellation belied a distinctly California combination of Zinfandel, Syrah and Petite Sirah. Their 2007 Block 14 Zinfandel was equally appealing. Namesake Carl Mettler of Mettler Family Wines provided a well-received 2007 Epicenter Old Vine Zinfandel, along with the 2005 Petite Sirah and a somewhat early 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon that offered indications of future promise. Further down the row of tables, Vicarmont Vineyards’ Vic Mettler chose to stake his claim in the Right Bank’s dominating varietal, with a 2007 Vicarmont Merlot and the palindromic 2006 vMv Merlot.

My general sense is that the Lodi AVA, which had but eight working wineries in 1991, has made sizable strides in its viticultural evolution, especially since my last visit in 2007. Even though I would rate the inaugural Treasure Island Wine Fest as one of my more manageable tastings this year, with 43 wineries attending, there clearly was a enormous amount of information (and wine) to absorb. Certainly, a more capacious guide than a two-sided 8.5″ x 11″ print would have helped make the event more manageable, but I managed, most ironically, to visit with each of the presenters, thanks to the Blue Angels! Had they not put on their display somewhere near the midpoint of this marathon, the bulk of the crowd would have remained inside the tent, and my mounting sense of claustrophobia would have never permitted me to finish. Go figure!

I managed to attend a number of other tastings this past week, including Napa Valley Vintners’ Battle of the Palates that kicked off Harvest Week in San Francisco on Monday and Wednesday’s sumptuous Wine & Spirits Magazine Top 100 Tasting at The Galleria. The Punahou Kid came to town Thursday, yet inexplicably neglected to invite me to either of his soirées. I could have stood outside the St. Francis and joined the protests over the predictably lackluster results of his stewardship or the feckless selection of the Nobel Prize committee; instead, I opted to spend the evening uncharacteristically uncorking unimaginative imported wines at the Officer’s Club at Fort Mason. The first military base ever converted to civilian usage!

A Columbus Day tribute: Welcome Back, Sangiovese!

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I am starting to suspect there may be more polyphenols than hemoglobin in my bloodstream. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, as far as Sostevinobile is concerned. Your West Coast Oenophile began last weekend with a fall swing up to Napa, with stops at half a dozen wineries before attending the final Cheers! St. Helena of 2009.

The wineries could not have been more hospitable. I first arrived for the Estate and Wine Cave Tour at Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars, a winery I had not visited since its sale to Chateau Ste. Michelle some three years prior. Despite its parent company’s recent acquisition by Altria, there seems to be no nicotine taint on this brand, only slight wafts of tobacco aromas in their array of incredibly textured Cabernet Sauvignons and Merlot.

After a few overly generous tastes of their exceptional 2005 S.L.V. Estate Cabernet Sauvignon and the 2005 Cask 23 Estate Cabernet Sauvignon, I headed north up Silverado Trail to Quixote Winery, the current organic wine venture of former Stag’s Leap apostrophic rival Carl Doumani. Liberated from his Stags’ Leap Winery, this contrarian vintner has set out on a highly Cervantean quest to bottle the perfect California Petite Sirah. Few, if any, would claim that his luxuriant 2005 Quixote Petite Syrah is tilting at windmills; equally delightful was the 2004 Panza Cabernet Sauvignon, an organically-grown “Rhôneaux” blend inadvertently poured by Quixote’s ever-affable hostess Anne White.

Anne had formerly worked at Diamond Creek, a later stop this warm afternoon. But first, I made a long-delayed swing over to Martin Estate in Rutherford, a boutique gem with 8 acres of organically-farmed Cabernet Sauvignon. Words cannot begin to capture the opulence of this winery, a 19th century edifice that originally had been constructed as a (comparatively speaking) miniature version of Greystone in St. Helena where Georges de Latour first made his wines. The building, converted in the 1940s to a residence, has been restored by current owner Greg Martin to include the current wine operations while housing part of his vast collection of antique arms and other artworks. From the decor of the mansion to the 120′ swimming pool to the Teutonic grandeur of the wine label itself, nothing about Martin Estate could be described as minimalist; befittingly, his wines, too, evoke an unabashed opulence, notably the 2005 Martin Estate Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon and his very limited port selections, including Greg’s “answer to Château d’Yquem,” the 2002 Martin Estate Gold, a botrytis-laden Late Harvest Chardonnay.

I swung back to Silverado Trail and wound my way up to Calistoga. There, it was a quick hop over to Highway 29 and over to Diamond Mountain Road, where I returned for a followup visit to Diamond Creek. Oddly, I somehow managed not to taste their array of vineyard-designated Cabernets while chatting with winery President Phil Ross. Phil did, however, provide me with a golf cart that enabled me to take a self-guided tour along the rickety paths that comb Diamond Creek’s three distinct vineyards, each distinguished by a highly differentiated soil composition and a definable microclimate that impacts their growing season. It is a tour best appreciated with one’s faculties fully intact.

Having managed not to flip the golf cart along the steep pitch of the trails, I thanked my host for his hospitality and zipped over to Twomey’s Calistoga facility. This winery, an offshoot of Silver Oak, exclusively produces their estate-grown Merlot (with an occasional touch of Sauvignon Blanc) while its sister facility in Healdsburg, the former Roshambo winery, sources and bottles a quarter of Pinot Noir selections.Of the several wines I tasted, the 2001 Napa Valley Merlot peaked beautifully at this age while the 2005 Napa Valley Merlot longed for more time in the bottle; my choices in Pinot Noir spanned the California Coast from Mendocino on down, with the 2007 Santa Barbara County Pinot Noir most pleasing to my palate.

My ailing friend and fellow advertising refugee Ira Zuckerman could not meet with me at Emilio’s Terrace; instead, I was hosted by founder Phil Schlein, an ardent devoté of organically-farmed grapes. A walking tour of his steep hillside vineyard crowned my boots with a fine layer of dust, a veritable badge of honor for this urban dweller. Inside, I partook of Phil’s considerable insight into the financial aspects of business development while sipping his straightforward 2004 Emilio’s Terrace Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve.

Porting home a bottle of their Cabernet Franc-based 2005 Moonschlein Red Wine, I found myself with enough spare time to attend the Friday afternoon Pulse Tasting at Acme Fine Wines. Up & coming winemaker Mark Polembski was on hand to pour from three of the wineries that employ his talents: Anomaly Vineyards, Charnu Winery, and Zeitgeist, a project he co-owns with his wife, Jennifer Williams of Spottswoode. All three wineries offered a limited-production 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon, all quite good, with a slight edge going to Mark’s own label.

Cheers! St. Helena proved to be a veritable potpourri of local vintners, ranging from the large and well-known to the hard-to-find 400 cases operations that many people employed by other wineries put out under their own label. As my habitual readers know, I tend to find these large-scale events a bit of sensory overload and make best with what I can do. With barely enough time to introduce Sostevinobile to these vintners and manage a quick swill of their offerings, my observations on individual wines manage to be tenuous at best. Still, my introduction to Nichelini’s 2008 Sauvignon Vert was a pleasant introduction to a wholly unfamiliar varietal, while Soñador’s 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon was exactly what one might expect from this benchmark vintage. Roxanne Wolf’s trademark painting lend a certain concupiscence to the labels for Eagle Eye, certainly an apt trait for their trademark blend, the 2006 Voluptuous. On the other hand, the 2006 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon from Lieff let its considerable pedigree stand out front. A most auspicious debut was the 2006 Wallis Family Estate Cabernet Sauvignon Diamond Mountain District, while the 2006 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon Peterson Family Vineyard from SwitchBack Ridge heralds from an estate that dates back to 1914.

I wanted to find out that Kapcsándy Family Winery produced a California Tokaji, but their 2006 Estate Cuvée State Lane Vineyard instead combined Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Cabernet Franc in a true Pauillac blend that reflected the background of winemaking consultant Denis Malbec. I exchanged pleasantries and thoroughly enjoyed the wines I sampled from other Napa ventures, including Intersection, Varozza Vineyards, Calafia Cellars, Wolf Family, Front Row from Napa’s pioneering Carpy Family, Salvestrin, and Tom Scott Vineyard, while sundry other wineries offered their current Meritage or Cabernet Sauvignon, but, at the end of the day, the standout wine was the 2006 Sangiovese Eaglepoint Ranch from Abiouness, a pure expression of this varietal (as opposed to the mask of a Super Tuscan blend) that I have not experienced at this level in California for quite a number of years. I was ready to call it a day.

I was scheduled to attend the West Coast Green Expo in Fort Mason the next day but inadvertently stumbled on the debut of the Taste of Fillmore festival on my way to Walgreens. I tried to resist—surely my venal-CO₂H capacity had attained its maximum tolerance for the weekend. Alas, my ecological impulses fell by the wayside (though I did manage to attend the after-party at the Academy of Sciences later that evening), and I warily flung myself into the thick of the cordoned-off block between California and Pine. After revisiting Dick Keenan’s Carica Wines and his delightful 2007 Temptation, I sampled the nascent talent of Pacifica’s Barber Cellars, an array of interesting wines from Napa’s Farella Vineyard, and a consensus favorite, the 2005 Proprietary Blend, a mélange of Syrah and Grenache, from Singh Family Cellars.

The very French-focused Beaucanon Estate offered a septet of wines, including a Bordeaux-style 2003 Trifecta and the utterly compelling 2005 Beaucanon Estate Cabernet Franc ‘L Cuvée.’ This afternoon, however, belonged to Italian-style wines, starting with Kelseyville’s Rosa d’Oro, with a discrete selection of their varietals that included the 2007 Primitivo, 2006 Barbera and 2006 Aglianico. Ramazzotti Wines glistened with the 2007 Ramazzotti Frizzante, a Prosecco-style sparkling Chardonnay, and their compelling 2005 Ramazzotti Ricordo, a Zinfandel blended with Petite Sirah, Alicante, Syrah, Carignane and Chasselas Doré. However, as had been at Cheers! St. Helena, the 2002 Ardente Sangiovese Atlas Peak from Ramazzotti’s kindred Ardente Estate Winery defined this day’s tasting.

For Sostevinobile, it is particularly gratifying to see a winery stake their œnological claim with the resurrection of an Italian grape that has lost much of its cachet in California. While local expression of this varietal differed from its classical vinification in both Chianti and Brunello, I felt the 2000 Atlas Peak Sangiovese Reserve had solidified its inclusion among the leading wines produced on the West Coast.

Sadly, however, when Paolo Antinori reacquired the Atlas Peak winery, the Sangiovese vines were uprooted and replanted with Cabernet Sauvignon. This conversion coincided with a general downturn in production of Italian varietals on the West Coast and the collapse of Consorzio Cal-Italia, the trade organization devoted to local production of these wines. Originally, the Consorzio had paralleled Rhône Rangers and sponsored an annual Grand Tasting in Fort Mason. Industry ambivalence toward these varietals and internal financial disarray precipitated the collapse of this event after only three years. Some members tried to maintain the tasting as a larger food and wine festival in North Beach’s Washington Square to coincide with Columbus Day celebrations, but this, too, fizzled, after only one year.

Call it Columbus Day. Call it Italian Heritage Day. Either way, it is a celebration whose importance the Consorzio Cal-Italia tasting helped underscore. To the Italian people here, the incorporation of so many of our cultural institutions and artifacts by the population at large, while at the same time denigrating us in popular media and in social settings, is a source of both pain and bewilderment. The expediency of politicization aside, we take this one day each year to affirm the inextricable role Italians have played in the development of the cultures throughout the Western Hemisphere.

Senza la cultura italiana, la civiltà occidentale non esisterebbe. A translation is not necessary, but, as a popular Italian bumper sticker boasts, immodestly but accurately, “We Found It. We Named It. We Built It.” Each year, we express our pride in what we have contributed on this day. It would truly be wonderful to have a resurgence of Consorzio Cal-Italia, a reinvigoration of Italian varietals among the local wineries, and a return of an annual festival on this holiday weekend rivaling the other Grand Tasting held in San Francisco. These renewed forays into the cultivation and local production of Sangiovese may well be harbingers of greater things to proliferate.

Make Wine, not War

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Some parts of Alameda definitely do not resemble Mayberry. The decommissioned Naval Air Base on the west side of the island is gradually being transformed with residential developments and commercial enterprises, an irenic reinvigoration of the local economy that parallels many of the tenets Sostevinobile embodies. Among the facilities that have been converted to civilian utilization, perhaps none offer a more dramatic environment than the former airplane hangars. Fans of St. George Spirits (Absinthe Verte!), including Your West Coast Oenophile, have long been quite familiar with the facility that lends its name to their Hangar One Vodka.

Finally, Alameda’s favorite artisanal spirits producer has company. Over at the next hangar, Rock Wall Wine Company has set up shop. Self-billed as a continuation of a “legacy of fine winemaking,” this grandiloquent venture constitutes the evolution of pioneering Alameda winemaker Kent Rosenblum and is daughter Shauna. The facility is massive, some 40,000 ft.², with a vaulted roof that is at least 35 ft. high. On a clear day, the open-air portion of the former hangar offers unsurpassed views across the Bay to downtown San Francisco and beyond, like an oversized Gottardo Piazzoni mural, only more vibrant.

Last Saturday presented a picture-perfect afternoon; a more enticing scenario for Rock Wall’s first Open House could not be imagined. Rocked by the Downwind Run’s authentic cover versions of classic rock anthems from the Sixties and Seventies (Allman Brothers, J.J. Cale) and fueled by an endless, carnivore’s delight from Angela’s Bistro, Rock Wall and five of its tenant wineries offered an array of new wines for one’s delectation.

I started off at the table for Carica Wines, fulfilling a long-overdue promise to join owner Dick Keenan for a tasting of his varietals and blends. I found the 2006 Sauvignon Blanc Kick Ranch to be an exceptionally clean expression of this grape, to the point it almost reminded me of an unoaked Chardonnay. Standout among the five wines they poured, though, was certainly the 2007 Temptation, again from Kick Ranch, a superb take on the classic GMS blend. I also found the futures tasting of their 2008 Petite Sirah displayed noteworthy potential.

Carica’s 2006 Syrah struck me as a tad on the sweet side. In contrast, fellow resident winery Blacksmith Cellars brought forth a 2005 Syrah from Alexander Valley, a wine rounded out with 7% Tannat, that utterly exploded the flavor of a well-done slice of Tri-Tip from one of the carving stations. I was pleased to sample Matt Smith’s 2008 Torrontés once again, but felt less enthusiastic about his 2008 Chenin Blanc, a once-popular varietal that has fallen into near oblivion in California. On the other hand, Blacksmith’s 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon from Alexander Valley offered tantalizing hints for the unreleased 2005 vintage, and their two dessert wines, a non-vintage Malvasia Bianca and the 2007 Late Harvest Syrah were almost perfect alongside the ice cream made from Rock Wall’s Late Harvest Zinfandel!

Readers know that I’ve cited R & B Cellars a number of times recently, including the Urban Wine Experience in Oakland; their wines were not so much a revelation this afternoon as a chance to revisit several outstanding vintages. Like the Blacksmith Syrah, R & B’s 2006 Counterpoint, a straight Cabernet Franc, made me cry out “bring on the steak!” Three vintages of Cabernet Sauvignon made an indelible impression, with the 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Reserve begging to be drunk now, while the 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Reserve demands another 5-7 years before hitting its peak. I personally preferred both R & B’s 2006 Swingville and 2007 Swingville, a zinfandel blended with ~10% Petite Sirah to their 100% Zinfandel, the 2007 Zydeco from Napa Valley. Unquestionably, however, the 2007 Minuet in Merlot completely outshone the 2005 Metronome, an unblended Merlot.

I wish I could be more encouraging about Ehrenberg Cellars, formerly known as Nectar Vineyards. Despite winning amateur winemaking awards, these wines seemed rather unfocused; perhaps, their move “out of the garage” into a community of well-seasoned wine producers, including the peripatetic Edmunds St. John, will enable them to achieve their potential.

Weighing in at the next viticultural tier, JRE Wines, the Rock Wall co-tenant from namesake John Robert Eppler, offered glimmers of his winemaking pedigree at Rosenblum and Robert Mondavi. Again, one sensed that this winemaker had yet to hit his stride, though I found his two blends, the 2007 Tradition (Zinfandel/Petite Sirah/Tempranillo) and the self-proclaimed “Rhôneaux”-style 2006 Petit Rouge (Syrah/Petite Sirah/Cabernet Sauvignon/Petit Verdot) eminently drinkable.

Even though Shauna Rosenblum did give me her last bottle of Rock Wall’s 2007 Tannat, I will not be compelled to say every single one of her wines were extraordinary; after all, the wine program at Sostevinobile has always been and must remain predicated on objectivity in our selection process. Still, Shauna is an enormously affable next-generation winemaker and her skills clearly show why it is far better that she has pursued this vocation rather than succeed her father in his veterinary practice. Their 2008 Chardonnay Russian River Valley was a pleasing revelation, as was the 2007 Rock Star Rouge, a blend of Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon and Cinsault. Even stronger was the 2007 Zinfandel Sonoma County, to my taste a more approachable wine than its Reserve incarnation.

Lipitor be damned! I headed back to the food counter for another generous helping of Tri-Tip before downing Rock Wall’s 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley, the veritable Grammy-winner from their lineup and another ideal pairing for this delectable meat. I also found their 2007 Late Harvest Riesling to be a worthy complement to the aforementioned Zinfandel ice cream, but had to beg off from marrying it with Blue Cheese, as one of my fellow attendees recommended.

I do look forward to great things from Rock Wall, both from its resident producers at its custom facility, as well as the winery itself. I have seen this same scenario played out so many times before. Successful winemaker sells his inextricably self-identified label to one of the handful of corporate megaliths devouring independent producers these days. Promises of autonomy are made initially, but slowly the eponymous brand is exploited to further the conglomerate‘s reach and by the time the attendant service contract has expired, the label feels like a vestige of its former grandeur. On the positive side, however, the original winemaker tends to go on to found a new label that does express the ideals of his vinification. Witness Carl Doumani’s Quixote, Richard Arrowood’s Amapola Creek or Tim Mondavi’s Continuum—by the time Diageo releases Rosenblum Coastal Cellars, I fully anticipate Rock Wall will be in this league.

Dam Good Wine!!

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Years ago, I was lounging on the sun deck of at the San Francisco Bay Club when the fellow next to me suddenly exclaimed “Wow! There’re two decks on the bridge!” In complete disbelief, I turned to him and asked “in all the years you’ve lived here, haven’t you ever driven across the Bay Bridge?”

He assured that he had—many times in fact. “And you never noticed that, say, there was steel overhead in one direction as you drove?’ I queried. “Or sky overhead when you came back?” He promised to check out this startling revelation the next time he drove to Oakland.

Your West Coast Oenophile had a similar epiphany last weekend. However, unlike the addleheaded heliolater from my health club roof, I can claim mitigating circumstances. The invitation to last week’s Drink Dry Creek’s ZinTopia listed the event’s location as the Warms Springs Recreation Area at Lake Sonoma. I was baffled. How many times had I trekked through Windsor, Asti, Healdsburg, Geyserville, Cloverdale, etc., in the early 1980s and never encountered a lake in northern Sonoma? How could I have missed such a prominent landmark?

It took a bit of Internet sleuthing to discover that I hadn’t indulged to the level of delirium on my frequent wine tasting forays—indeed, in the early 1980s, there wasn’t a Lake Sonoma! This marvelous recreational jewel turns out to be man-made phenomenon, a limnological accretion formed by the development of Warm Springs Dam. Following the dam’s completion in 1983, water impounded from Dry Creek gradually filled the basin over the next several years and altered its historic topography in creating this 2,700 acre reservoir. In other words, rather hard to miss once it was created.

The 319′ high rolled earth embankment that comprises the dam stands as the lone barrier between 470,000,000 m³ and the verdant field of the Warm Springs Recreation Area, a thought only slightly less discomfiting than the notion of encountering the CHP upon leaving the wine tasting. As things turned out, neither a deluge of Biblical proportion nor of wine lay in store for this afternoon.

ZinTopia turned out to be a wonderfully balanced event, just enough food and wine to keep pace for four hours in the hot afternoon sun and reach an acceptable level of satiety by day’s end. Actually, had they only served the grilled California White Sea Bass, I would have been content (not that the outdoor grilled Pizza and Angus Beef Sliders were anything to scoff at). But, as loyal readers of my Sostevinobile well know, restraining me from tasting good wine is no mean feat!

The organizers from Drink Dry Creek had paired the Sea Bass with an array of Sauvignon Blancs from participating member wineries. Some chose to bring one bottling; others presented contrasting vintages. I must concede that I rarely indulge in this varietal by itself, and, in retrospect, I might have felt more glowingly about the wines I did sample had I ported my dining plate to these tables. Still, these wines fared far better being chilled than did those Zinfandels that vintners valiantly struggled to keep from cooking in the sweltering heat, and certainly proved quite refreshing. 2008 Sauvignon Blanc seemed de rigueur for the wineries that were pouring this white, and both Mauritson and Dry Creek Vineyard proffered admirable vintages. The standout in this category, however, came from Sbragia, with a distinctively crisp Sauvignon Blanc that held its own as an apéritif.

The lone contrast amid the white wine section under the event tent was the 2008 Petite Zin Rosé from Dry Creek Vineyard. The centerpiece of the afternoon, as well as the center island of the tasting, was, of course, the gem of Dry Creek—Zinfandel, in all of its red glory. Ridge Winery sent out a team from their Lytton Springs bale house, so it seemed a logical starting point to swing by and say “hi.” Their formal pourings included the debuts of the 2007 Lytton Springs, a long-standing workhorse of their single vineyard program that featured a blending with 22% Petite Sirah and 7% Carignane, and the 2007 East Bench, a relative newcomer to this lineup that was rounded out with 8% Petite Sirah. Ridge’s bonus pour, the 2003 Zinfandel Del Carlo Ranch, outshone the younger wines and raised the bar for the rest of the afternoon.

Befittingly, Lori and Ray Teldeschi, proprietors of this same vineyard, manned the station directly behind Ridge and poured both the 2006 Old Vine Zinfandel and the 2005 Old Vine Zinfandel from their Del Carlo Winery. Though both featured an identical blend with 11% Old Clone Petite Sirah, all from the same vines, I clearly favored the newer release as a wine that might give Paul Draper a run for his money! On the other hand, Talty Vineyards contrasted their 2006 Estate Zinfandel with their 2005 Estate Zinfandel—in this case, my preference fell to the earlier vintage.

In recent years, Wilson Winery has gained much acclaim for both their Zinfandels and their Cabernet Sauvignon. I found their 2007 Zinfandel Molly’s Vineyard quite appealing and truly relished bother their 2007 Zinfandel Sawyer’s Vineyard and 2007 Zinfandel Carl’s Reserve. In this era of winery consolidation, Wilson is becoming a bit of a mini-mogul, having recently purchased a handful of smaller wineries, including Mendocino’s Jepson Winery inexplicably renamed Jaxon Keys). Another of their holdings Mazzocco, out on Lytton Springs Road, proved a worthy partner with their popular reserve Zinfandel, the 2007 Maple, and an enticing 2007 Zinfandel, Sonoma County.

The wineries I commended above for their Sauvignon Blanc proved equally adept with Zinfandel. Both the 2007 Mauritson Zinfandel and Sbragia’s 2006 Gino’s Vineyard Zinfandel proved noteworthy, while Dry Creek’s 2006 Old Vine Zinfandel showed a delightful complexity. In reviewing my note, I regret missing the Sauvignon Blanc from a handful of other wineries but did manage to enjoy both the 2007 Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley Mother Clone from Pedroncelli and my gamble on the 2006 Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley from Ferrari-Carano.

I know I should rise above making bad puns, but the 2006 Zinfandel-Dry Creek Valley from Rued was definitely not rued; indeed, discovering this winery for the first time was a most unexpected surprise. Optima Wine Cellars was also a serendipity for me, but with a 2005 Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel on hand; their 2005 Orgaz Zin, truly a deft pun, proved to be anything but a misnomer. Other newcomers to the Sostevinobile roster included Bella Winery with its 2007 Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel and Dutcher Crossing with its expression of the 2007 Maple Vineyard Zinfandel. In contrast, Everett Ridge seemed an old friend—I had just sampled their 2006 Diablita Zin-A the night before at California Wine Merchant; their 2006 Old Vine Zinfandel easily amplified my favorable impression of their wines.

Tony Terlato’s Alderbrook, truly an old familiar, brought a 2007 Old Vine Zinfandel that made a similarly strong impression. Their 2006 Confluence, a Zinfandel/Syrah blend, balanced its components quite gracefully. Other wineries that offered both Zinfandel and contrasting varietal or blend included Amphora, whose excellent 2006 Zinfandel, Dry Creek Valley was matched with its 2006 Malbec, a varietal many wineries here find too challenging to tackle. Mounts Family Winery brought its 2007 Mounts Malbec, a striking expression of this wine—a perfect complement to their 2007 Mounts Estate Zinfandel. Moniclaire rose to the challenge with its 2006 Petite Sirah but truly stood out for its 2006 Zinfandel. Given its close identification to Zinfandel, I was surprised that Collier Falls’ 2006 Primitivo presented the only offering of this varietal; in addition, their newly-released 2005 Zinfandel showed signs of incredible promise.

The only winery pouring an alternative white wine with its Zinfandel was Mill Creek with its 2008 Gewürztraminer. Their 2006 Zinfandel-Beacham Downey Vineyard deserved a prize for best name of the afternoon. Kokomo Winery seemed an odd choice for a name until owner Erik Miller explained his allegiance to his Indiana roots, and, certainly, his 2006 Zinfandel, Dry Creek Valley showed no sign of Midwest terroir. These days, any place east of the Rockies seems indistinguishable, so I kidded Forchini that their 2006 Papa Nonno, a Super-Tuscan blend, sounded more like a wine from Arkansas (you have to speak Italian to get the joke).

A stop at the Montemaggiore table gave me another chance to practice the familial tongue with owner Vince Ciolino before I sampling his wondrous, organically-grown 2005 Nobile, a Paso Robles-style blend boasting 60% Cabernet Sauvignon to 40% Syrah. Even more the purists, Quivira, one of only two Demeter-certified biodynamic wineries in Dry Creek, could make anyone a convert to this practice; both their 2007 Quivira Grenache Wine Creek Ranch and their 2007 Quivira Mourvèdre Wine Creek Ranch came close to bringing tears to my eyes.

I reacted as fervidly to the 2006 Mountain Cuvée from Gustafson Family Vineyards; this extraordinary blend combines Zinfandel from their three-acre Heritage Tree block with adjacent lots of Petite Sirah and Syrah. I extolled the incredible wines from Frick when I covered Rhône Rangers earlier this year, but was more than happy to retaste his wizardry with his 2007 Frick Counoise and the 2007 Frick Viognier.

I found the 2008 Viognier from Hawley Winery a tad of the sweet side, but feel confident these young, organic vintners will soon hit stride. On the other hand, the well-seasoned organic winemakers at Michel-Schlumberger showed their considerable talents with a restrained 2008 Viognier and a marvelous 2007 Cabernet Franc their delightful volunteer repeatedly overpoured (if only I could allow myself to taste like a civilian)! Rounding out the afternoon, the renowned Preston of Dry Creek, one of the most prodigious organic wine growers in California, validated themselves with a spicy, complex 2006 Carignane Dry Creek Valley Certified Organic. If only I had saved room to complement with an Angus beef slider!

We headed back to San Francisco after a quick detour to survey Lake Sonoma and its array recreational facilities. Suntanned and sated, there was little left to say about this splendid afternoon gathering except “Dam Good Wine!”

Déjà vu all over again

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Why must Howell Mountain wines be so uniformly good? Granted, this consistent quality bodes well for Sostevinobile and our future patrons, but leaves little leeway for Your West Coast Oenophile to eke out a column that offers a modicum of variation as I endeavor to assay last Monday’s Wines of Distinction Tasting in San Francisco. Granted, I approached this tasting with an established bias, having sampled the majority of these same wines only a few months before, at the Howell Mountain benefit in St. Helena; still, this reevaluation only confirms my belief that this AVA offers a climate and terroir so ideal to viticulture, even Alistair Muller could not help but make a great wine from grapes grown here.

Few, if any, of my readers will readily recognize this oblique reference, which, of course, allows me to digress—the hallmark of this blog—with an anecdote from my earliest days in the wine industry. Back then, Laura and I had befriended neighbors to whom we referred off-handedly as Fred and Ethel. A more bumbling duo could not be conceived. All along we had assumed that she was the more inept of the pair until that weekend when she was “compelled” to attend a company retreat in Honolulu, leaving him to fend for himself. Resourceful nonetheless, he tripped down the road and brought home a package of Ready-to-Eat Ribs, the four easy steps for preparation recounted here verbatim:

1) Preheat oven to 375°.

2) Place ribs in oven. Cook for 10 minutes.

3) Take ribs from oven and remove tin foil wrapping.

4) Cook for 10 more minutes.

Alistair was absolutely flummoxed. After struggling for nearly an hour, he traipsed down the hall to see whether I could decipher the immense complexities of these instructions. “Am I supposed to cook this on the stove?” he queried.

I responded with utter incredulity. “Do you see the word ‘stove’ anywhere there?”

“But it says ‘take ribs from oven, then cook 10 more minutes.’”

“Exactly!”

“So then I put it on the stove…”

“No!” I replied, my agitation mounting. Nonetheless, this conversation continued in this elliptical fashion for the next fifteen minutes, without penetration. “But why does it say ‘take ribs from oven and remove wrapping’?” he asked in complete candor.

Exasperated, I exploded. “It’s for idiots like you who would try to take off the tin foil while the ribs were still in the oven and burn the shit out of their fingers!”

“Are you sure???”

I don’t know whether Alistair ever had dinner that night. These days, I periodically check out the obituaries from the South Bay. Just to make sure he hasn’t accidentally electrocuted himself. With the TV remote. Still, I remain firmly convinced that, even with his lack of basic acumen, even he could churn out a memorable Cabernet from a sloping vineyard on Howell Mountain.

Before I delve into my review of the wines actually poured at last Monday’s gathering, I must commen
d the organizers for how they staged this tasting. Twenty-nine wineries aligned the perimeter of the Bently Reserve lobby—just enough to make visiting each table leisurely within the time allotted. Attendance was moderate, which permitted me to engage each of the wineries in a detailed conversation, even though I had met most earlier this summer at Howell Mountain’s benefit in St. Helena. If only all the events I must cover could be as manageable!

For no reason other than it allowed me a certain ease with taking notes, I decided to sample each winery in alphabetical order. Nonetheless, my review of the Howell Hountain tasting need not follow the same motif.Were I to continue with classic television allusions, as mentioned above, I would likely cite that Bedrock duo, Fred & Wilma, as my segue into Arkenstone, a name that could easily double as the state from where President William Jefferstone Flinton hails. All jest aside,this organically-farmed winery once again began the afternoon with their rather demure 2006 Arkenstone Sauvignon Blanc, somewhat of a rarity for this AVA, and followed with their still-memorable Cabernet blend, the 2006 Obsidian.

Basta! If I continue in this vein, this entry may never end. And so I will forego any attempts to link Dr. Marc Cohen’s Howell at the Moon with the comic genius of Jackie Gleason and Audrey Meadows as immortal Ralph and Alice Kramden, leaving their excellent 2005 Howell Mountain Cabernet to stand on its own merits. Like Howell at the Moon, Blue Hall is run by a run by Andrew Zolopa, a physician from Stanford. His reprise of his 2005 Camiana was as memorable as the first time I tasted it—a special bottling of 100% estate grown Cabernet Sauvignon that contributes a portion of its sales to benefit HIV-infected children in Africa.

Idealism of a different sort came from CADE, a sustainably-focused winery applying for LEED Gold Certification. A division of the PlumpJack enterprises, CADE’s 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon reinforced Sostevinobile’s tenet that sound environmental practices and skilled œnology are wholly synergistic (one can only hope that a portion of their profits is not donated to Newsom for Governor, however). With no competing agenda, Neal Family Vineyards poured sequential releases of their Certified organically-grown Cabs, the 2004 Howell Mountain Estate Cabernet Sauvignon being one of the afternoon’s true standout.

One of the more pleasant aspects of this afternoon was not being inundated with an endless selection of wines; most participants brought 2-4 of their vintages, with many offering but a single wine. Still, it was hardly a burden to taste all of Outpost’s six hand-cultivated, organically farmed wines. Standouts in this group were the 2006 Howell Mountain True Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon and the 2007 Howell Mountain Zinfandel; as an aside, I could not help but think their 2007 Howell Mountain Grenache would have made the perfect accompaniment to the cherry-glazed Duck Leg I described in my previous posting. Duckhorn Vineyards (note the deft segue) poured an interesting quartet of wines, dating back to their previous ownership. Their more recent pair, the Cabernet/Merlot blend 2005 Howell Mountain Red Wine and the Zinfandel-dominant 2006 Howell Mountain Postmark were clearly their more impressive offerings.

Six other wineries elected only to pour one Cabernet Sauvignon; for each, staking their repute on a single wine proved fortuitous. I very much enjoyed the 2005 Reserve Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon from Spence, as I did the inaugural 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon from Roberts + Rogers, despite the absence of owner Bob Matousek. Despite its more recent vintage, the 2006 Howell Mountain Cabernet from Red Cap seemed quite drinkable at this stage, while the 2005 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon Riva di Ponente Vineyard underscored why Cimarossa has become so highly prized among wine cognoscenti. Another mouthful to pronounce came from Napa stalwart Cakebread Cellars, with their 2006 Howell Mountain Cabernet Dancing Bear Ranch; another longtime veteran, Piña Napa Valley, dazzled with their 2006 Howell Mountain Cabernet Buckeye Vineyard.

Interestingly, two wineries were willing to stake their claim based on a wine other than Cabernet. I had previously tasted the 2004 Howell Moun
tain Merlot from W.S. Keyes, but was pleased to revisit it. New to me, however, was Retro Cellars, with their 2006 Old Vine Howell Mountain Petite Sirah, a reserved, almost muted expression of this normally outspoken varietal. Retro’s owners, Randy and Lori Dunn, also presented their eponymous Dunn Vineyards label, showcasing their 2004 Howell Mountain Cabernet while delighting a few privileged attendees with their 1998 bottling of the same, a classic example of this vintage as it mellows through its second decade.

Where there is Cabernet Sauvignon, there is often Cabernet Franc. Clearly excelling with the latter varietal was La Jota, with its wondrous 2004 Cabernet Franc; their 2004 23rd Anniversary Release Cabernet Sauvignon was certainly no slouch, either. White Cottage Ranch brought both Cabs, along with a Rosé of Cabernet Sauvignon. Admittedly, the 2005 Howell Mountain Cabernet Franc seemed a tad young, whereas the 2006 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon held greater promise. The rejuvenated Atlas Peak offered a tantalizing preview of its 2008 Cabernet Franc, with another barrel sample, their 2008 Merlot, alongside; their soon-to-be released 2005 Howell Mountain Cabernet showed that it will be a worthy successor to their much-honored 2004 vintage.

I mentioned to Cornerstone Cellars owner Craig Camp I thought his 2005 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon begged to be tasted in 2013—and beyond. Even the 1999 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon he poured held future promise. Cornerstone also makes another 100% Cabernet Sauvignon that assembles grapes from three corners of Napa: Howell Mountain, the western edge of Oakville, next to the Mayacamas Mountains, and the Southeast corner of the Napa Valley, but Camp did not serve this “blend.” In contrast, the amiable Joan and Bill Smith, owners of W. H. Smith, blend the classic Bordeaux mix (Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Petit Verdot and Malbec) from their Piedra Hill Vineyard into both their 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon Bronze Label and 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon Purple Label. Ironically, another couple, Notre Vin’s May-Brit and Denis Malbec, do not bottle or even grow Malbec, reserving their Hughes Vineyard solely for Cabernet Sauvignon, from which they made their 2006 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon Rosé and their 2006 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon.

Besides Cabernet, the other hallmark of Howell Mountain is its Zinfandel. Wineries that showcased both included D-Cubed, with a truly outstanding 2006 Howell Mountain Zinfandel and an admirable 2005 Bravante Cabernet Sauvignon and Robert Craig, whose 2006 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon shone quite brightly beside both his noteworthy 2006 and 2007 Zinfandels. At Lamborn Family Vineyards, the ubiquitous Heidi Barrett worked her usual magic with both the 2005 Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon and the pre-released 2007 Howell Mountain Zinfandel. Summit Lake also brought two Zins to accompany their 2006 Emily Kestrel Howell Mountain Cabernet; of the three wines, I can only say that the 2002 Clair Riley’s Pirate Reserve Zinfandel struck me as memorable.

I was, admittedly, underwhelmed by the Sauvignon Blanc Ladera Vineyards poured, but the outstanding 2005 Ladera Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon readily dispelled any doubts about this winery’s efforts. On par with this wine was la crème de la crème of Cimarossa, Tor Kenward’s 2005 Howell Mountain Cimarossa Cabernet Sauvignon (the 2006 bottling was still too premature to tell if it will rival the magnitude of its preceding vintage). And, of course, the true joy tastings like this is discovering that rare gem you might not have the opportunity to experience elsewhere, like Diamond Terrace’s 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon Howell Mountain—a scant 190-case offering from owners Hal and Maureen Taylor’s Eagle Summit Vineyard. That they also slipped in a taste from their more prolific (235 cases!) 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon Diamond Mountain District was a perfect coda to the afternoon.

In going over my previous column on the wines of Howell Mountain, I realize this entry may be a bit, to paraphrase that famous icon of 1950s baseball and telev
ision, Yogi Berra, “déjà vu all over again.” Pour me a generous glass of Howell Mountain Cab, and I can live with that criticism.

It’s Showtime at the Apollo

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Long before I met the Ginkgo Girl, Your West Coast Oenophile more than once venture out solo on a Saturday evening, desultorily returning just as Saturday Night Live was playing its closing strain. Immediately afterwards, NBC broadcast a hip variety show called It’s Showtime at the Apollo. Broadcast from Harlem’s legendary Apollo Theater and featuring some of the leading black musical acts of the time, it was hosted by Sinbad before he became funny. Or after—I was never quite sure. Amateur performers also competed for a shot at stardom in a Gong Show-like atmosphere that often had them being given the hook midway through their performance.

Last Saturday night, Showtime at the Apollo took on a whole new connotation as I ventured to the remote Yuba County enclave known as Oregon House, CA for the 30th Anniversary celebration at Renaissance Winery. Because of its isolation, I had never actually been to this estate, but my encounter the preceding Thursday with Clos Saron’s Gideon Beinstock, who also serves as Renaissance’s winemaker, convinced me to make the nearly three-hour trek. To say it was revelatory would be an understatement.

There are cult wines, and then there are cult wines. The former category includes those highly prized $500 Napa Cabernets produced in limited allocations like Screaming Eagle, Harlan Estate, Colgin and Dalla Valle Maya (all of whom I highly urge to send sample bottles to Sostevinobile). The latter refers to those wineries that fly under the radar for most people but command an intensely loyal following among wine cognoscenti, labels like Thackrey, Linne Calodo, and, of course, Renaissance. As such, I had expected to find a little ramshackle operation: dirt road, creaky old barnhouse, manual bottling line, and a plank for a tasting room. Instead, I tailed a white stretch limo from Marysville Road (once I had determined that the street sign Rice’s Xing stood for Crossing, not a Chinese surname) to the presidial gates of Apollo, the opulent 1,300 acre estate where Renaissance operates.

The enormity of this property took me by complete surprise; the lushness of its extensive landscaping, the grandeur of its gilded statuary, the richness of its architecture presaged revelations for which I was wholly unprepared. Even if I hadn’t been dizzy from driving in near 110° heat, my head would have been in a whirl. The moment I had parked my car, the solicitous staff was eager to accommodate me. A woman named Geneviève asked if there was anything she could get for me. “A deed of trust,” I quipped.

But, alas, transferal of ownership seems highly remote, as I discovered that Renaissance is held by a non-profit entity known as The Fellowship of Friends. Being that an abundance of articles assaying this movement already populates the Internet, it serves little purpose for me to delve into the nature of their philosophy or the notoriety arising from this utopian settlement, though as a well-trained Classicist, I must concede that their assimilation of Greek and Roman mythology seemed rather tenuous, as did their mélange of as many other core beliefs as the learned Mr. Thackrey blends into his esteemed Pleiades.

Allegations aside, the focus of this gathering was a celebration of the wine, and rarely does one ever have a chance to taste a vertical of nearly every vintage a winery has produced. From 1982 onward, Renaissance has produced an exemplary Cabernet Sauvignon that rivals any comparably-priced production from Napa or Sonoma. Interestingly, however, Renaissance’s vintages seemed uniformly to defy the historic patterns from these other regions. Where a Napa vintage excelled, here was typically an off-year; years in which the North Coast dovetailed, Oregon House reached pinnacles. The pre-dinner gathering tasted 24 different Cabernets, covering the three winemakers who have toiled here since Renaissance’s inception. Following a few early, admittedly offbeat efforts, founding winemaker Dr. Karl Werner hit his stride with the 1984 Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve, a wine that still drank remarkably well 23 years later. Several years later, his widow, Diana Werner, found her forte as his successor in the 1990 Cabernet Sauvignon. Gideon apprenticed under Diana and took over the helm in 1993. After 16 years of attenuating Renaissance’s extensive plantings into a refined, manageable vin de terroir program, his pennants are the 1997 Cabernet Sauvignon, a wine that has grown in stature here as rapidly as it has declined elsewhere, and the phenomenal 2001 Cabernet Sauvignon, a bottle of which was generously included in our take-home gift packet.

Dinner patrons received a box of six bottles to bring home, a mixed selection of Cabernet Sauvignon, Viognier, Roussanne, Syrah and Granite Crown, a proprietary red blend. Herein lies the root of my, frankly speaking, bewilderment at the arrangement of this gala. Those of us who stayed on for the dinner were fêted with a three-course meal, followed by dessert. Rather than serve entrées with wine pairing that elegantly matched each course, the dinner was accompanies by yet another dozen vintages of Cabernet Sauvignon, all of which were selected from Gideon’s Vin de Terroir or Reserve bottlings. Now had we been at a winery like Silver Oak, which only bottles Cabernet, I could understand this monolithic approach, but Renaissance offers a wide array of distinctive reds and whites, both as single varietals and artful blends. This inundation with Cabernet seemed, at best, quite awkward, especially following the pre-dinner tasting we had just enjoyed.

Perhaps it is a phenomenon of living in such exclusive isolation, but there seemed to have been no coordination between the wine selections and the preparation of the menu, which, in turn, tended to clash with itself as the meal progressed. The first course consisted of a duck leg in cherry sauce atop a bed of lentils. A respectable balance of these ingredients, to be sure, but a course that had consistency at all with a pairing of four Cabernets. Had we been served, instead, the 2004 Mediterranean Red, a Grenache-dominated GMS blend, or a vertical selection of the same, the wine and food would have married elegantly (I suspect the 2002 Pinot Noir might also have fit the bill).

The next course consisted of a delicately roasted slice of lamb, one of those rare selections that actually matches up quite well with Cabernet. But the chef’s choice to smother the meat in an overbearing garlic compote seemed almost heretical and, again, created a jarring clash between food and wine that no alternative selection might have complemented. Still, a more orthodox lamb preparation might well have been served by the 2005 Syrah, the 1996 Claret Prestige, or the 1999 Merlot Premier Cuvée with equal aplomb to a Cabernet.

A random selection of Brie, Pont-l’Eveque, and Morbier comprised the final course. The disparity of these cheeses with yet another round of Cabernet even struck Gideon, who discounted the compatibility of each. Here again, the course might have been better served with a Pinot Noir, or any of Renaissance’s notable whites: the 2006 Roussanne, the demure 2006 Sémillon Vin de Terroir, the 1993 Sauvignon Blanc still featured in their Library selections or the 2007 Carte D’Or, a Sémillon-Sauvignon Blanc blend.

Gratefully, the dessert offered no Cabernet pairing. Still, the peach cobbler could have skillfully been accentuated with any number of late harvest wines from the Renaissance roster: 2006 Roussanne Vendanges Tardives,1992 Riesling Late Harvest, 1989 Sauvignon Blanc Late Harvest,2006 Sémillon Late Harvest or the 1995 Chardonnay Vendanges Tardives. I am told that, early in its development, Renaissance excelled at making a German-style Riesling that put the winery on the map, so to speak. I suspect a resurrection of one of these bottlings might have similarly pared well.

The coda to this meal was the complete omission of coffee or tea service. After considerable pleading, I managed to wangle a triple shot of espresso from the coffee maker housed within the full bar that serves their tasting room—a necessity before navigating the late night trip back to San Francisco. Gideon and I shared a most amiable conversation as the caffeine slowly surged through my veins, and I departed with nary a wisp of concern over my sobriety.

Showtime at the Apollo had indeed been an unanticipated adventure into the unknown, if nothing else one of the most esoteric destinations I have yet encountered. I think of the true homage to Persian culture and Zoroastrian beliefs one encounters at Darioush; on the other hand, the ersatz classicism of Ferrari-Carano’s garrish architecture illustrates the diametric opposite, a pallid imitation of a style and culture, lacking any depth of comprehension or genuine appreciation. The setting here lay somewhere in-between, underscored by a demagoguery that held an invisible sway over the course of the evening’s events. But I had come to Renaissance for the wine, and the wine I had been served had, isolated in its own context, been quite excellent.

I have long appreciated this winery for its incredible versatility with so many wines that they had not served on this celebratory evening. I would hope, as Renaissance strives for recognition as a premier winemaker unfettered by implication or exposé, that it take full advantage of the panoply of superb vintages they have to offer and rest upon these laurels.

When nature calls

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Five cutting-edge wineries, all clustered in a single room. A mere handful of attendees compared with the throngs at Family Winemakers. An abject need to tear myself away from my keyboard and begin to confront life after the Ginkgo Girl. How could I possibly not attend?

Donning my Specialized helmet and slipping my feet into the toe clips, Your West Coast Oenophile headed out from my Pacific Heights exile last Thursday evening and leisurely wound my way down to Hayes Valley and Arlequin Wine Merchant. This recently-expanded wine shop/café is the offshoot of Absinthe, a popular restaurant with one of the most extensive premium liquor selections in California. In the year I spent as a starving artist between finishing grad school and entering the wine industry, I actually filled in as a bartender at Absinthe predecessor Ivy’s, an upscale, distinctly “festive” Civic Center institution, for a very brief period. Discretion dictates that I refrain from trenchant observations of the furtive liaisons engendered here, lest risking a boycott of Sostevinobile in this post-Prop. 8 era. Still, I did find it a more inclusive milieu to be among patrons whose principal predilection is for heterodoxical wines.

Despite the slight reservations I expressed in my previous entry, I was glad to partake in the celebration of San Francisco’s Natural Wine Week. Once I plunked down my $20 tasting fee, I beelined over to the table for Clos Saron, a winery that had been scheduled to pour at Golden Glass but failed to show. The delayed gratification was well worth the wait. Clos Saron proprietor Gideon Beinstock, who also serves as winemaker for fellow Oregon House winery Renaissance Vineyards, readily displayed his complete mastery of the viticultural practices natural winemakers espouse, artfully blending Burgundian, Bordeaux and Rhône varietals into his repertoire. Limiting himself to small lot productions of under 200 cases, his wines displayed an extraordinary restraint, evocative of terroir-driven vintages I have sampled from Paso Robles’ L’Aventure. Among the several wines Gideon generously poured, I was most impressed with his 2008 Carte Blanche, a triple-appellation mélange of Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Roussanne and Viognier. The 2004 Heart of Stone also delighted with its blend of Syrah rounded out with Viognier. And, of the two Yuba County Pinot Noirs, I thought the 2007 Pinot Noir Home Vineyard clearly stood out.

Over the past few years, I’ve attended numerous “Meet the Winemaker” Monday night tastings at California Wine Merchant; certainly, a similar program will become an important component to Sostevinobile, both as a means of outreach to our clientele and as part of our commitment to showcasing the abundance of exciting and diversified wines grown here on the West Coast. One of the more intriguing wineries I’ve encountered at these sessions has been Lioco, a Los Angeles-based partnership between Matt Licklider and Kevin O’Connor (the name being a portmanteau derived from the initial few letters of each surname). On this warm evening, the duo tempered the gathering with a pair of cool, contrasting whites, the 2008 Chardonnay Sonoma County and a distinctly oak-free 2006 Chardonnay Michaud. Their forte, however, was the 2007 Indica, a Mendocino blend of Carignane rounded out with Mourvèdre and Grenache.

Few wineries here can match the scholarly approach Tablas Creek applies to its focus on a particular category, in their case Rhône varietals. Unti Vineyards in Dry Creek, however, is gradually building a comparable portfolio with Italian varietals. This father-son team has long delighted with their proprietary Segromigno, a Sangiovese-Barbera blend I frequently enjoy as the house vino alla spina at Delfina Pizzeria just down the street from my abode. At this pouring, their varietal 2007 Sangiovese Dry Creek Valley spoke eloquently of the resurgence of Cal-Italia wines. In tandem, a separate 2007 Barbera Dry Creek Valley begged for the kind of Neapolitan pasta sauces I simmer for a week before serving. Unti’s most noteworthy offering on this evening came from their 2007 Montepulciano Dry Creek Valley, to my knowledge the only bottling of the Montepulciano d’Abruzzo grape on the West Coast. I know I can look forward to offerings of several other wine debuts as George and Mick continue their research into the untapped potential for other Italian varietals in this welcoming climate.

Jared and Tracey Brandt know that I have lon
g been a proponent of their studious winemaking methodology at A Donkey and Goat. As an unknown winery several years back, they stunned the attendees at Rhône Rangers with the debut of their unreleased 2000 Syrah, an astounding wine that, in my aversion to the overwrought vernacular of wine descriptives, was best described as “pure velvet.” It’s a benchmark that’s extraordinarily difficult to replicate; otherwise, I might have been more effusive about both the 2006 Syrah Fenaughty El Dorado and the 2006 Syrah Vielles Vignes Mendocino County Tracey poured on this occasion. Nonetheless, their current 2007 Four Thirteen El Dorado, a blend of 45% Syrah, 35% Grenache, 18% Mourvèdre and 2% Counoise, displayed enormous potential to age beautifully over the next few years.

A Donkey and Goat really led the way for several Berkeley-based wineries that incubated at San Francisco’s Crushpad. Another graduate of this custom crush facility was Broc Cellars. From its inception, owner Chris Brockway has focused on Grenache, consigning his energies in other varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay to his affiliate venture, Broadside. recently, he added another Rhône varietal Mourvèdre, to his repertoire; the 2007 Mourvèdre Luna Matta Vineyard, Paso Robles was a worthy entrant, to be sure. His 2007 Grenache Cassia Monterey, however, was nothing less than (again eschewing traditional epithets) a stunning rendition of this varietal, far and away his best effort to date.

So did San Francisco Natural Wine Week make an acolyte out of me? To be sure, I have become a strong proponent for how this methodology allows a grape to express both its varietal character as well as the distinct traits of their vineyard/microclimate in which it was grown. Sostevinobile remains committed to the proliferation of the winemaking arts here on the West Coast and is more than happy to embrace this school as part of the diversity of our offerings.

My Big Green Weekend

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Confession: it’s been a while since Your West Coast Oenophile has honed in the sustainable component of Sostevinobile. All things in due course, so they say, and my focus on putting together such a comprehensive wine program must remain the paramount focus of my efforts (oh, and then there’s the not inconsiderable demands of sourcing the financing needed to power our proverbial environmentally-friendly engine). Nonetheless, my sojourn this past weekend introduced me to an array of sustainable ventures and innovations encircling the San Francisco Bay.

I finally made the trek Saturday to the new Berkeley Bowl West, a paean to both sustainable food and environmental design, with its 140,000 sq. ft. solar-powered facility. There’s a decidedly different dynamic to this outpost, though hard to tell whether it’s just the newness of the site (technically, they’re still celebrating their Grand Opening) or whether something different is indeed underway. The new store seems almost minimalist in comparison with its parent location—not in terms of its selection of fresh produce, which remains quite vast, but in its sense of layout and decor. The new store is clean and linear, whereas the old store seems cluttered and funky.

Described by its architects as “a one-of-a-kind, green, environmentally friendly, and sustainable marketplace”, the former feels like a showcase for green architecture;the latter, an elaborate indoor farmer’s market. The clientele at Berkeley Bowl West looked notably different; still in time, perhaps, a more tie-dyed æsthetic will emerge. Also absent, in a most welcome sense, were the interminable checkout lines that inundate the Oregon Street facility.

The solar rooftop panels at Berkeley Bowl West are expected to generate 149,633 kWh—the equivalent of 179,560 lbs. in carbon dioxide emissions—every year. Amidst the illumination provided by this renewable energy, I made my perfunctory inspection, sampled a few of the freebies, snuck a sun-dried tomato slice from the bulk bins, then wandered across the courtyard to its adjacent satellite, the Berkeley Bowl Cafe, where I actually purchased a ginger ale and cookie to sustain me on the drive up to Carneros (I find comfort food a welcome deviation when the Ginkgo Girl is out of sorts).

I used to drive to Napa via the East Bay quite a bit in the 1980s, so I could look in on the grandmother of a friend who had returned to the East Coast for graduate studies. Since her passing, I’ve tended to head over the Golden Gate Bridge and cross over from Sonoma, which seems less industrial and CHP-prone. No matter what, I made the trek in ample time to arrive midway through the inauguration of Cuvaison’s green tasting room at its Carneros Estate Vineyard.

This new facility was designed by San Francisco architect Douglas Thornley, this pristine structure, along with its companion office space, is again decidedly minimalist in its approach and features a wide array of energy saving technologies, including denim insulation. The design of the tasting room takes maximum advantage of its elevated perch looking out onto the Carneros Valley. It is a vista few wineries can rival.

Cuvaison Estate Wines is a certified Napa Green Winery, both here and at its Calistoga facility, with 1,428 solar panels that generate up to 252kW at the Carneros winery. Its environmental practices focus on Winery Water Conservation and Quality, Soil Management, Solid Waste Reduction and Management, Energy Efficiency and, of course, Wine Quality. With ample helpings of dim sum (what? no potato plastic utensils?) provided by San Francisco’s Yank Sing, I managed to sample five of their current releases. Greeters poured each guest the 2008 Vin Gris of Pinot Noir as they signed in—given the heat of the afternoon, this splendid Rosé almost seemed a necessity. I followed this introduction with a taste of their 2008 Sauvignon Blanc, an unpretentious expression of this varietal that had extracted any hint of grassiness. The 2007 Chardonnay Carneros was clean and straight-forward. Similarly, Cuvaison’s 2007 Pinot Noir Carneros and 2007 Syrah Carneros seemed to straddle a mid-point between food-focused wine and the kind of vintage one tends to quaff simply for its inherent pleasure. I told winemaker Steve Rogstad I found these wines “restrained” in their presentation and structure; he seemed immensely pleased.

The views beyond Cuvaison’s terrace, as well as those alongside it, made it hard to pry myself away from these festivities, but I was obliged to trek onward to the quiet Sonoma hamlet of Sebastopol in order to inspect the new operations of Pizza Vino 707. Owner and fellow Hotchkiss survivor Stephen Singer is perhaps best known for developing the wine program at Chez Panisse; ironically, the Eurocentricity of this program amid Chez Panisse’s pioneering S.O.L.E. (sustainable, organic, local, ethical) food commitment provided my impetus for developing Sostevinobile. Stephen produces a remarkably restrained Syrah under his own Baker Lane label, also in Sebastopol. The ostensible purpose of my visit was to taste the Baker Lane Pinot Noir, but the restaurant has yet to stock these wines or the other local vintages they plan to feature, so I held my visit to exchanging a few pleasantries before returning to San Francisco.

On my way home, however, I became sidetracked by the festivities at Sebastopol’s 75-year-old Enmanji Buddhist Temple. Obon Oduri can best be described as Zen line dancing (thankfully without the cloying strains of Billy Ray Cyrus’ Achy Breaky Heart). I couldn’t help but sit along the sidelines and spectate as the ring of kimono-clad women and men in varying degrees of Western attire traipsed around the makeshift platform, waving lotus-shaped fans as they sauntered by.

Zen is, of course, the Japanese expression of Buddhism spiritually akin to the tenets of the sustainability movement, but is frequently coöpted by alternative practitioners here in the western United States. I could not help but marvel at the seeming anomaly of Asian congregants at Enmanji—an oxymoron to those who have ever attended zazen at the Green Gulch zendo in Muir Beach. Nonetheless, to a casual observer, Enmanji seems little different than any other mainstream American parish, with its temple, Sunday school classes, ample parking lot, and combined meeting hall/gymnasium.

Several years ago, I worked up a comedy routine about being the only white student at a Buddhist parochial school, St. Siddhartha’s, where I starred on the senior high basketball squad, the Flaming Monks. Towering above the rest of my classmates at a lofty 5’7″, I was Russell, I was Chamberlain, I was Kareem! (Many years later, I found myself having similar fantasies as I gazed upon a roomful of the tops of heads as I mingled among the San Francisco Trial Lawyers Association, but this remains fodder for a later blog entry).

In all seriousness, the celebration at Enmanji was a delightful event I felt privileged to have a chance to witness it. Happy to find so many kindred spirits in this remote sector of Sonoma County, I treated myself to an oversized cupcake and commemorative fan before heading back to San Francisco. Along the way, I stopped in Mill Valley to fill my car up with gas and myself with a well-deserved shot of grappa at Piazza D’Angelo before heading across the Golden Gate Bridge.

Summer weather in San Francisco can be remarkably fickle. After a gloriously warm day on Saturday, I envisioned rising Sunday morning and cycling across the Golden Gate Bridge for some much-needed solar rejuvenation on the sands of Muir Beach. With a pristine tan invigorating every square centimeter of my dermis, I then planned to ride into Cow Hollow and join

my fellow Dartmouth alums in greeting the Big Green Bus at the San Francisco stop along its nationwide tour. A dense fog and high winds, however, curtailed my trek as I rode through the Presidio; with pale complexion and only minimal expenditure of energy, I rolled downhill and joined the gathering at Perry’s on Union Street.

The tonic of my (would-be) athleticism was countered by the sobering revelation of discovering several offspring of my coevals, now undergraduates at the College, in attendance. Still, we managed to bond as contemporaries in our common zeal for sustainability. Since 2005, 15 students have dedicated themselves each summer to manning a 1989 MCI coach modified to run on reclaimed biodiesel fuel and crisscrossing the continent in this working laboratory for alternative energy and sustainable living practices. With solar panels , deep cycle batteries, a 4000-watt Xantrex XW series inverter, bamboo flooring from EcoTimber and computer cases forged from recycled PET plastic bottles, it is commendable endeavor.

Amid the festivities and comradery, I offered to treat one of the young volunteers to a glass of wine. She ordered a Malbec from (shudder!) Argentina. Oh well! Perhaps in 2010, Sostevinobile will be able to host this annual gathering and share our insights into sustainable viticultural practices with these laudable trailblazers from the Big Green!

Does Howell Mountain warrant its own mondegreen?

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A mondegreen is a misconstrued song lyric. Probably the best-known example is from Jimi Hendrix’ Purple Haze, with “’scuse me while I kiss the sky” invariably being interpreted as “’scuse me while I kiss this guy.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that (to quote Jerry Seinfeld).

Hendrix aside, the indisputable King of the Mondegreens has to be John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival. Is there a person alive who can even come close to deciphering the words to Down on the Corner? Or Up Around the Bend? You can look up the lyrics to these songs on the Internet; it will absolutely amaze you what he’s actually singing!

Creedence could be joyous. Creedence could be political. Creedence could be incredibly poignant. Their most heart-wrenching song (with surprisingly well-enunciating vocals to match), Lodi, still remains incredibly evocative every time I listen to it. For several decades, it stood as the only thing most people knew about this quiet, Sacramento Delta town.

Those of us involved in the wine business in the early 1980s had another impression of Lodi. From the days when a wine could be labeled as a varietal if it contained 51% of a specified grape, Lodi thrived as a cheap source of bulk fillers, most notably Tokay (no correlation to Hungary’s etherial Tokaji) and, secondarily, Thompson seedless. There were a handful of wineries that were outside the incestuous, quasi-industrial—a frequent joke, back then, was that these facilities might be requisitioned as emergency refineries when the next oil crisis hit—troika of Gallo, Franzia and Bronco that ruled the Central Valley; these predominantly cooperative collectives, assembled from a vast swath of local growers, produced some of the most ungodly wine known to mankind. One outfit, known back then as Eastside Cooperative Winery, had an inventory of 212 wines (types, not necessarily varietals) that they offered. The one I still cannot forget was Chocolate Cinnamon Wine.

Eastside’s sole virtue, apart from their moderately successful Royal Host Brandy, was that they made their Lodi neighbors, Guild Wineries, seem almost competent. Or maybe not. In those days, Guild had one brand of note, Cresta Blanca, and another, Cribari, that I’m told had once been respectable but had been turned into a pallid version of Carlo Rossi. Their crushing and fermentation took place in Fresno, then they would ship the bulk wine up Highway 99 to Lodi, where it was cellared and bottled. This convoluted process baffled Your West Coast Oenophile, to put it mildly.

“Why are you exposing your wine to Central Valley heat in this manner?” I asked with well-warranted incredulity. Their response offered little clarification. “We think people perceive Fresno as a negative. We wanted the prestige of ‘Bottled in Lodi’ on our label!” Of course, people back then thought Ronald Reagan had no idea what was going on with Iran-Contra, either!

Back in the early 1980s, these aforementioned wineries and other nearby ventures had upwards of 500,000 cases of wine stacked in their warehouses (I saw 50,000 cases alone of Eastside’s inimitable Chocolate Cinnamon concoction). Then someone at Brown-Forman came up with the brilliant concept of wine coolers, a blend of indescribable wine with a base of fruit juice and high fructose corn syrup. Millions of gallons of hitherto unsalable wine were dumped into these 6-packs, and an entire sector of the wine industry was rescued from impending oblivion.

It was virtually impossible to screw up the wine cooler solution. Unless you were Guild. Brown-Forman had California Coolers, with their memorable ad campaign. Gallo, in its inimitable fashion, let Brown-Forman blaze a path, then swamped them, in typical Gallo fashion, with Bartles & Jaymes. Guild, on the other hand, came up with Quinn’s Quail Coolers, and one of history’s most misguided ad campaigns: Soar with the Quail. Fine, I suppose, except for the incidental consideration that the quail merely jogs and never gets off the ground for any appreciable period of time.

In similar fashion, I would like to think that it’s virtually impossible to screw up wine grown on Howell Mountain. If the Taste of Howell Mountain, which I attend last weekend, is any indication, my premise is well-founded. With not even a remote semblance of Guild to be found among the 40 wineries donating their fare to this charitable fundraiser, there was nary a flawed wine to be found. Great if you’re an inveterate imbiber; not so great if you’re an aspiring blogger. How does one differentiate (at least in print) among a plethora of stellar Cabernets and Zinfandels (with a smidgen of Syrah and other varietals) grown in this landmark AVA?

The tasting felicitously began with a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc from host Charles Krug, the sole non-Howell presence at this benefit. I must concede that even I have frequently overlooked this excellent winery, which has unfairly suffered the perception of being “the other Mondavi” as well as being “the other Krug.” Since the mid-1990s, Charles Krug has meticulously endeavored to reestablish both its wines and its branding, and now oversees what I believe is the largest holding of organically-farmed acreage in the entire county. Moreover, with the sales of Robert Mondavi and Louis M. Martini to external, maleficent conglomerates, it remains the last of the independently-owned grand estate that dotted Highway 29 in the 1970s.

Outside on the lawn, tables were spread out generously around central islands for catering and silent auction bids to afford easy access to the assorted wineries offering a sampling of their recent vintages. Participants ranged from boutique operations like Blue Hall and Summit Lake to industry stalwarts like Cakebread, Duckhorn, Beringer and St. Clement. The highly-coveted
Cimarossa vineyard was ably represented by both Tor Kenward and its own eponymous label. Arkenstone, who also poured a Sauvignon Blanc to help mitigate the 85° heat, might have vied for the best nomenclature, but the unequivocal winner here had to have been Howell at the Moon.

Personally, I have long been a fan of Atalon, and was equally pleased to see the familiar presence of D-Cubed, Ladera, Outpost, Bravante, Diamond Terrace and even Atlas Peak (though I still bemoan the uprooting of their Sangiovese vines). A trio of Roberts (Robert Craig, Robert Foley, Roberts + Rogers) have also been long on the Sostevinobile roster. Others, like Cornerstone, Neal Family Vineyards, Fleury, Dunn Vineyards , Black Sears, Haber, CADE and another “Caps Lock” venture, SPENCE, provided welcome newcomers for our incipient venture. Semi-reticent (in their choice of nomenclature, not œnology) W.H. Smith and W.S. Keyes were fortuitous finds, while the rare chance to taste La Jota and Lamborn Family Vineyards was an unexpected pleasure.

I started off the day enjoying the gracious hospitality of Zelock Chow, proprietor of Howell Mountain Vineyards, and was happy to retaste his wines in the afternoon. Despite my usual gregarious nature at these events (I find people in the wine business so much more engaging than my familiars in the advertising world—and don’t even get me started on the Silicon Valley folks who think Friday night Happy Hour happens at Fry’s), I managed to complete my entire dace card, so to speak, and rounded out the Silent Auction segment with White Cottage Ranch, Piña Cellars, O’Shaughnessy, Rutherford Grove, Highlands Winery, Villa Hermosa, and Red Cap.

Another first for me, at this event, was the mobile wood-burning oven that was carted in to make individually-fired pizzas. Of course, the very next day, Pizzeria Delfina brought in a version twice this size to accommodate their booth at Golden Glass in San Francisco. Still, I’m convinced that if I land up closing out my twilight years in a Winnebago Vectra, I will be hitching one of these marvels to my trailer post.

Feeling fully sated and moderately lubricated, I joined the rest of the 400+ attendees inside for the live segment of the afternoon, presided over, quite genially, by auctioneer Greg Quiroga. Bidders both local and from afar had turned out to raise much-needed funding for Angwin’s Howell Mountain Elementary School, and by the end of the day, had contributed over $32,000 to the cause. While the auction proceeded, volunteers from the school and community offered liberal pourings of sparkling wine, and, for those who still desired, full glasses of the various wines we had sampled outside. The room had a bit of a cathedral-like aura to it, but the proceedings were anything but solemn. As School Board Director Wendy Battistini, a most gracious hostess, proudly proclaimed “Howell Mountain wines rock!”

I managed to linger for about another hour or so, mingling among some of the local winery workers and decompressing from a long day at work (you think covering eight tastings in one month is easy?). Before returning to home to the Ginkgo Girl, I stopped off at Taylor’s Automatic Refreshers in downtown St. Helena and kept the CHP at bay with one of their ever-delightful veggie burgers. The warm summer air at 9PM was a stark contrast to the weather that awaited me back in San Francisco.

I will return to the next Howell Mountain tasting at the Bently Reserve later this summer and assess these wonderful wines with much greater detail. For now, I’m too lazy to complete my research and find out from Uncorked Events why Howell Mountain hasn’t been included in their Napa Valley with Altitude tastings. The orphaned hill among its brethren mounts? The black sheep of the Napa Clan? Perhaps, in compensation, I should compose a Howell Mountain anthem. Perhaps I might even have to sing and record it myself with my distinctive atonal delivery. In that event, step aside, John Fogerty—the Howell Mountain mondegreens will abound like no others!

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

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

I am not hesitant to concede the rather pedestrian perspective that shaped my introduction to wine. Wine selections at most of the suburban establishments where I dined consisted of an unidentified red or white and sometimes rosé, which was often a house-made blend of the other two offerings.

On the next level were the myriad imports. Italian wines consisted of Verdicchio or Soave, Valpolicella or Montepulciano from such august houses as Bolla or Cella; Chiantis, in their straw cradles, were mostly distinguished by competing lengths of their bottle necks. French wines meant a cheap Louis Jadot négotiant blend or one of Stiller & Meara’s totems to kitsch and tastelessness (the other being the films of their unctuous offspring, Ben). From Portugal came the tangy twins, Mateus and Lancers, whose ceramic bottles formed candle holders at nearly every red-checkered tablecloth spot I can remember.

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

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

Focus groups automatically eliminate anyone in the advertising filed from participating on their panels. Advertising is an astoundingly cutthroat profession, curiously so in that one would think people ought to be able to rise to the top based on talent and the quality of their work, as opposed to certain industries where the hyper-aggressive accrual of money is the only barometer of success. But it is not so much a disdain for this sordid occupation as a belief that people who work in advertising might skew the results that causes marketing researchers to preclude them.

In its struggle for self-preservation, the hierarchy in advertising strives to maintain mediocrity and marginalizes individuals who might upend this equilibrium. Having been deemed too talented for my own good, I spent years outside the inner sanctum, churning out a modicum of subsistence as an indentured freelancer. As such, I never felt any compunction at not disqualifying myself when offered the opportunity to participate in a focus group. My responses have always been honest and unbiased by my professional activities. However, on topics of which I have a strong familiarity, like Apple-related products, I have not been at all reticent in displaying my acumen.

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

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

Fast-forward to last Saturday’s Uncorked! Wine Festival at Ghirardelli Square, a placed for which I had once designed a commercial with liquid chocolate bubbling forth from its court fountain (naturally, the myopic principals at the ad agency quashed the idea). Billed as a festival with 53 participating wineries, there were quite a number of corporate-held satellites among the booths. Given the proximity of this event to Cellar 360, it didn’t come as much of a surprise that nearly all of Foster’s Wine Estates’ California portfolio was present, and, in all fairness, the majority of these labels (Cellar No. 8, Beringer, Chateau St. Jean, Sbragia, Etude, Meridian, Souverain, Taz, Stag’s Leap Winery, St. Clement and Wattle Creek) have maintained a remarkable degree of autonomy. Jackson Family Wines was ably represented by Arrowood Vineyards, which, like all of the wineries in this portfolio has been allowed to stay true to its origins. Constellation, on the other hand, has shown itself to be far more intrusive with its acquisitions (as noted above), but I cannot attest to how much control Clos du Bois, their sole holding at this event, has relinquished.

The last heavyweight pouring at Ghirardelli Square was, of course, Gallo, which has battled Constellation for several years now for bragging rights to the megalomanic epithet World’s Largest Wine Company. Their attendees included a couple of labels Gallo Generation 3 has cultivated out of their Sonoma vineyard acquisitions: Frei Brothers and MacMurray Ranch, along with 1.5 liter titan Barefoot Winery (originally Barefoot Bynum), and their premium Napa acquisition, William Hill Estate and Louis M. Martini. Changes to these latter two brands may appear subtle to the consumer, but changes are indeed underfoot, despite previous declarations of a hands-off approach. What will come, now that William Hill’s winemaker has been “transfered” to Martini remains to be seen, but the alarming development has been the launch of a second label from Martini, the Napa-Sonoma hybrid known as Ghost Pines. Some may celebrate this development of reasonably-priced Chardonnay, Merlot, and Cabernet Sauvignon from these leading AVAs, but I found them rather underwhelming. Worse, I fear, they will be harbingers of more diminution of the brand along the lines of what Robert Mondavi and BV has endured at the hands of their corporate parent, if not worse. Years ago, Louis P. Martini invited me to lunch at his winery, where I enjoyed an animated conversation and a 1984 Barbera that still brings tears to my eyes. “Louie,” I told the girl pouring for William Hill, ”is most assuredly rolling in his grave.”

But let me close on a more optimistic note, for indeed, there were many delightful discoveries among the hitherto unfamiliar labels I encountered at the Uncorked! event, be it a subtle Tempranillo from Berryessa Gap Vineyards or the splendid array of Italian varietals from Rosa d’Oro. I promised the pourer for Deerfield Ranch that if the Ginkgo Girl and I decide to solemnize our relationship, we would serve his Super T-Rex***, an artful blend of Sangiovese, Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon, with a touch of Dolcetto. Fellow Hotchkiss internee Zelock Chow showed off a noteworthy Cabernet from his family’s Howell Mountain Vineyards, as did Charlie Dollbaum from Carica Wines. Another Howell Mountain venture, White Cottage Ranch, pleased with their 2006 Merlot, while Hall Wines showed exactly how organically-grown Cabernet shines. The 2006 Seven Artisans from RDJ Artisan Wine Company proved a more-than-competent Pomerol-style Meritage, while a chilled 2007 Roussanne from Truchard Vineyards offered a welcome antidote to the rather stifling afternoon heat. Yorkville Cellars, a Mendocino organic winery, boasts of being the only house in California to grow and produce each of the eight Bordeaux grapes as single varietals, and while they neglected to bring their much-anticipated Carménère, the five wines they poured did not disappoint. Another Mendocino operation, Zina Hyde Cunningham, managed to satisfy my Barbera craving, while DL Carinalli Vineyards made good with their 2007 Chardonnay and 2007 Pinot Noir.

Speaking of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, I do owe acknowledgment to my new acquaintance from Suacci Carciere, who enabled me to obtain tickets to this event; thankfully, the 2.5 mile pedal from Pacific Heights to this event was a whole lot easier than the 35-mile roundtrip I made the previous week to their Sideways tasting in Larkspur. And despite my long-winded perorations the Uncorked Wine Festival was a welcome urban escape for a Saturday afternoon, supporting a highly worthwhile cause (Le Cocina) in these economically-challenging times and giving voice to a number of promising, independent wine ventures, as well as their house brands.

**Despite the late Hal Riney’s gravel-voiced recitation, the slew of gold and silver medals were mostly awarded to The Wine Cellars of Ernest and Julio Gallo, one of the myriad labels they offered in the 1980s, which accounted for significantly less than 1% of their total production.

***There’s a subtle, inside joke that only people who know us would understand.