Category Archives: Tempranillo

TAPAS: taking off where ZAP began

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

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On the Road Again (redux)

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

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

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