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Sonoma county carries a friendlier air than Napa, so I had been eager to explore the sister vineyards. The rumors were true, and so my dear friend from Lake Tahoe and I spent a short weekend exploring the wine and the coast. A friend had recommended the Russian River Valley for tastings. We were also on a budget (in general I would guess that Sonoma is cheaper) and decided to take to the internet because we agreed that there must be free tastings somewhere in the two counties. Thanks to a blog post by an employee in the region, we found that the Russian River Valley houses a handful of the freebies.
But we began on Saturday (after driving away from heavy snowfall at Lake Tahoe) at the posh end of town, in the shared grounds of J Vineyards and Rodney Strong. We started with J, and split the ten dollar fee. J is worth the ticket for the food pairings.
The first offering was a sparkling white (their vintage brut), which struck me as a fairly uninspired brut, but a very good one compared to the Cook's I bought in Vegas. This was paired with teeny bits of scallop and asparagus perhaps, on a very small cracker. The next station was a pinot gris that reminded me I'd been in California a while. The fruit forward wine boasted a not-so-subtle medley of tropical flavors that were balanced with acidity and organic aromas. This was not a wine I would have lauded back home, but receives my praise now as simply a joyful gift for your mouth and senses.
This especially positive memory may have something to do with the two pourers who deligthfully discussed the bachelorette party circulating on the second floor. The list of rules the women shared with the J experts, and the condition the party was currently in, gave the impression of serious planners that perhaps weren't very good friends. The future bride was not allowed to ever spit her wine, for example, but the list required her to get sick at some point. We debated the likelihood of any of the party remaining awake that night for the stripper.
Then my friend and I walked upstairs to try the next wines and check out the party. The women were quite well behaved, albeit silent, as a few had retired to the lounge area for some repose. The last station featured a pinot noir I believe (the feature of Sonoma, whereas Napa boasts its Cabernet Sauvignon and Charbono), but the best offering was sold out. What we tasted (and I blame the bachelorette party for eating all the food except a few endive leaves with some sauce on them) was the 2005 vintage. The wine notes are fabulous, with red fruits like cranberry and even the assertion of cola, and a finish of toast. We really enjoyed this one, and the pourer was friendly, giving me tips on future destinations, and talking about his times at Lake Tahoe. He gave us an extra pour, and we could detect better the complexity of the pinot noir. I wanted to buy a bottle. Oh, $70? No thanks.
Then we headed out for the superb gardens that separate the two tasting rooms. J's may hide an actual facility, Rodney Strong displayed the huge casks in the hangar-like anteroom. The latter may share a driveway with J, but the experience was polar. Firstly the room was crowded, so pourers were not relaxed. Well, one was, but it took us a good while to catch his eye. The woman who finally paid us attention and carded us had obviously already decided that we were not worthy customers. She explained the tasting card, two free tastes from the list of three majorly distributed, then five dollars for four of the limited and another five dollars for four of another assortment. We gave her ten dollars and said we'd share a glass. I know that that isn't a faux pas, but I have a feeling we were doomed from the moment we walked in. She poured three ounces and walked away. And it continued like that. I tried to ask her about the vineyards but her answer was curt. And the wine was not worthy of her haughtiness. She must have been having a really tough day.
Then the relaxed pourer, an older chap with an aging hippie look about him and a warm smile, sauntered over. We spent a little time on the Gentleman's Port, with his help explaining the process and the difference between California Ports and others. I got the picture that some grapes yielded here are so fermentable that the later addition of brandy or other alcohol booster isn't always necessary (so you get a whollop of a port here).
Sunday was bright and clear and warm, a perfect day to drive around and try wines. The roads are curvy and old and often secluded for miles under the mammoth redwoods and other green giants. Blasts of sunlight along clearings boosted our spirits with the glee that can only come right after winter.
On the River Road, we began with Korbel. Although their champagne has never impressed me, the stuff is just so bubbly and grand whether from a Veuve Cliquot or Cook's (who just lost a little respect for me?), and we had a wonderful time chatting with the nice pourer, drinking free champagne. Some limited releases intrigued us, especially the noire, which is crafted from pinot noir grapes. But I also find champagne a little harder to judge, partly from my all-inclusive connection to happiness and celebration with a bubbly dry brut, and partly because the bubbles get in the way of my feeling of the bouquet. It's true.
After being strong and not buying any bubbly, we meandered through the gardens that were erupting in color of the new spring blooms. The antique rose collection has won awards, and along the entrance path lay a beautiful array of bulbs and perrenials, many of which were in full bloom. I had to sit and smell them, let my skin soak in the spring. And off we went again, windows down, singing along to bad pop.
Turn onto West Side Road and follow the narrow byway twisting to explore modest green forests, just about every one of these tasting sites are free. Ok, I'll list them: Porter Creek, Davis Bynum, Hop Kiln, Arista. We made it to all but Davis Bynum. These were wonderful experiences.
I especially liked Porter Creek, which nearly shares land with Gallo, but still manages to craft certified biodynamic wine. Most wine that comes out of Europe can be stamped organic, which is nearly synonymous with biodynamic, but an older system. (Many European wines can also be considered biodynamic.) The approach bars the use of any chemicals and although the term often includes a spiritual angle, specifically a monistic perspective on the connectivity of the land and the grape (and yourself and everything else, you get the picture), at Porter Creek they use the term to stand for methods both organic and sustainable.
The tasting room was a one-room cottage on one of the vineyards, with a rustic feel coupled with pride and excitement. It's one thing to make an FDA certified organic wine. It's quite another to make a good wine while meeting even tougher standards. And these wines were good. Different, like free range meat versus Big Macs. Or a better analogy, like cask versus keg beer. The process of growing, nurturing, harvesting, pressing, fermenting, everything that goes into winemaking, is a subtle and immense craft. To raise these grapes so that when they can speak the product is praiseworthy (or at least drinkable), well I can only imagine how the convenience of pesticides and fertilizers work to mask that voice. Am I babbling? Sorry, but the introduction of organic and sustainable agriculture to the world of winemaking is exciting. The yields could demonstrate the benefits thanks to tasters' refined palates!
We each bought a bottle. I wanted the Viognier, but it was too expensive. My first of its kind, this wine was both bold and crisp, fruity but not sweet. It was so different, and that's on purpose. The chardonnay was so artfully well balanced, without the oaky presence, the grapes were just cared for correctly, and when I find a chardonnay I like it's kind of a big deal for me. The pinot noirs were also very good, often fruit forward and bold with a fine and almost restrained body and finish.
Arista was a fun experience, with the place to ourselves and the treat of talking to one of the winemakers. An eccentric and a snob with a dry and surprising sense of humor, he seemed relieved to converse and educate. We weren't often impressed with the offerings, but overall it served as a great lesson. Then he moved into the pinot noir collection. You're supposed to pay ten bucks or so to sample these, but what's six ounces anyway? One vintage was dry and full bodied with a nice fruit character and a $75 pricetag or so, but that was the only noteworthy choice.
Hop Kiln was fun because it was big and the people were friendly and there were free samples of dips and oils set around the open room. Their un-oaked chardonnay and sauvignon blanc were noteworthy.
On the Hop Kiln estate we sat on the car's bumper and ate leftover pizza. Our next stop was the coast. I've already raved enough about that drive, and the day was perfect, so I'll eventually get some pictures up at least.
previous travel blog entry
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