Ride the Rhone Range

That's a wealth of wine knowledge on the SoHO Restaurant & Music Club's stage on April 9th for a trade event as part of a day promoting the Santa Barbara County Rhone Rangers. As the newest to the business, winemaker Chris Caruso joked, "There's 140 years of experience up here, and I add one of those years." Hiding behind a bottle of his wine in the photo above, Ken Brown was hailed by moderator Matt Kettmann as the professor at Zaca Mesa "University," back when it seemed every about-to-make-Santa-Barbara-famous winemaker trained there in the 1980s. One of those "students" was Bob Lindquist, who pretty much put Rhone varietals on the SB county map, first with Qupé, and since 2018, Lindquist Family Wines. To have both Brown and Lindquist on a panel, sharing wines and stories and knowledge--well, it would be like attending a comedy panel with Buck Henry and Mel Brooks (assume Henry were still living). 

Speaking of good jokes, before I go on, if you can't read that orange sign, here it is in close up, at the bottom of the stage that holds six wineglasses for seven different drinkers. (Good thing they kept Larry Schaffer from crowd surfing after having people taste his funky but chic Tercero 2021 Counoise.)

I kid, I kid. But Schaffer is as ever indefatigable in his boosterism for Santa Barbara County wine, knowing a rising tide of vinous knowledge rises all boats. He happily reported the current 17 members in SBC of the Rhone Rangers is the highest number ever. And was even kind enough to let some SLO County wines into the tasting portion of the event, as Paso Robles certainly knows its way around a Syrah or two. Then to kickoff the panel, Kettmann asserted there's definitely a Rhone renaissance in the New World, and personally admitted, "A good, cool climate Syrah sone of the most interesting grapes out there."

While not quite all of the 22 Rhone varieties of grape were represented on the panel or at the tasting--wither thou, Vaccarese?--there was a soupçon of Bourboulenc in a blend, I'm pretty sure, and positively more Clairette Blanc than I've sipped in a month of Francophone Sundays. People are doing all kinds of interesting things, sometimes simply by reviving a grape generally relegated to blends only (that Counoise), or farming a mere 7 acres on the front ridge of Ojai Mountain, so 10 miles from the Pacific but at 2700 feet elevation, or Clementine Carter making a beautiful, vibrant Grenache Blanc with grapes from two different vineyards--Zaca Mesa and Kimsey--and treating each with different methods--the first has a carbonic fermentation, the second ferments in a concrete egg. The afternoon attested to invention, ever with an eye on tradition.

So let's leave with Bob Lindquist, kind enough to prove Roussanne can rock when aged--that's a magnum of his 2008 Qupé. It showed no lack of fruit waiting to be drunk for 16 years, yet added a stunning depth, providing a multidimensional drinking experience. It let you rethink what that grape can do. During the panel Lindquist joked, "We gain Marsanne and Roussanne drinkers one at a time," but what he poured, as there was also a 2021 Lindquist, certainly moved that needle much more rapidly. And then sometimes the needle moves too rapidly--he also got to pour what will be his final vintage X Block Bien Nacido Syrah, the Lindquist 2020. Famed for years as one of the best sites for the grape--its intensity, bacon fat, black pepper are unmatched--the old vines have sadly succumbed to leaf roll. 

But that's one more thing wine does for us, insist we love the moment, delicious as it passes through our lives. 
 

WOPN 2022: Old Friends

Despite the many years I've been fortunate enough to attend the World of Pinot Noir (and is there a more annoying way to start an article?), I've never quite cracked the nut on the best way to cover it. There's just so much, and that's only considering Friday's and Saturday's Grand Tastings events. Over the two days at least 165 wines poured over my palate, so distinctions can get a bit blurry, and I'm not just talking about my handwritten notes.

That said, I decided one way to approach this year is splitting up some highlights into two different stories, this one called Old Friends, and then a later post I will call New Finds. (There might be a third post called Some Foods.) And to prove how hard it is to follow even my own outline, I'm going to begin with an old friend creating new finds--Larry Schaffer and his tercero wines. Those familiar with him know him to be warm, wise, chatty (he named two of his wine blends Verbiage), and an endless experimenter. He makes mainly Rhone varietals, but then there's that quenching Gewürtz he calls Outlier (since no one can pronounce Gewürztraminer), his Aberration red blend he asks you to chill, both a Cinsault and a Mourvèdre rosé.... He's hard to stop.

So, of course, he had to give in, finally, to the clarion call of Santa Barbara County and make some Pinot. And what did he show up with at WOPN? Four! All his 2020 fruit comes from Kessler-Haak and he's made a blend of three clones, each of which you can buy bottled on its own, too. Think of it as a delicious science experiment. As he put it, he thinks in Rhone terms, and compares the blend to a GSM, with the 113 clone playing the Grenache and providing the high notes, the Pommard 4 taking the Syrah role and providing the balance and bulk of fruit, and then the 114 doing its Mourvèdre impression and providing the undertones. At this point I think the blend stands out as it is so balanced, but who knows what time might show--the 114 seemed youngest as a solo bottling, and those who like their Pinots floral should gravitate to the Pommard. But, as always with Larry, it's all good. Especially if you get some of his homemade blue cheese bread with it, as tasters got to do. (Plus, bonus Shelby Sim of Visit the Santa Ynez Valley usie at the table--a good thing, as I'm so bad about taking photos of people.)

Of course if I go on at this length for every wine/winery I hope to write about this post will be longer than a CVS receipt and less valuable (and darn, I do need a two-for-one on toothpaste after all the red wine), so I'll try to speed things up. For example, here's a two-fer, what the pourer at the Hilt table called "The Matt Dees fun zone," since their aisle portion backed right up to the Mail Road position on the next aisle. I have praised Dees many a time and surely will do so again, but geez he's rocking it. At the Hilt has the the home field advantage of getting to play with Radian and Bentrock fruit (more on both in a bit), which means such wildness and bite to the wines in the best of ways. You can't drink the 2019 Hilt Radian--a wine to geek out on--without doing your best Colin Clive imitation and shouting, "It's alive!!"

Meanwhile over at Mail Road they were offering a vertical from 2018 to 2015, which was fascinating as the wine shifted from even to odd years, the former ones more opulent, the latter more Burgundian. Talk about a lesson in vintages, at least at Mt. Carmel Vineyard (we will visit Mt. Carmel again in the New Finds write up). Another lesson, I make a funny face when I silently express my joy in tasing a good wine, at least based on the pourers at this table after I had theirs. When one asked which vintage I preferred, I could only reply, "The last one I have tasted." Power, elegance, grace.

As for Hilt follow ups, I generally spend some time making sure I get to taste as many wines made from Radian and Bentrock as possible (and thank you, Matt and owner Stan Kroenke for still selling some of this fruit--how sad our area would be if everyone clamped down on what they owned like we were some BS place like Napa). Those sites never make anything less than very good wine, but two particular standouts this WOPN were the 2018 Radian from SAMsARA, which pushed the racy Radian experience to a delicious edge thanks with 100% whole cluster and 50% new French oak, and the 2015 Montemar Bentrock--yep, that's their current release of it, and it might have needed all that time as it's still a gnarly monster of Pinot goodness.

Speaking of monsters, I like big format bottles, I cannot lie, and every WOPN Paul Lato is sure to deliver on that front. It's always bit of a zoo at his table, but that 2013 Drum Canyon you see above was worth it, a spectacular expression of Sta. Rita Hills fruit with oodles of spicy notes and a finish longer than this whole blog post. Same for a Brewer-Clifton 2010 Cargasacchi from a bottle nearly as tall as me (I might exaggerate, but only a tad), the kind of pour you just walk around the hall and finish, as it would be a sin to pour it out after it waited for you, just getting better for over a decade. 

Not to be outdone with wines with some age, Gray Hartley as usual was behind the Hitching Post table with two oldie-but-goodies, a 2000 Sanford & Benedict and a 2002 Fiddlestix. The former had some bricking, sure, but still so much life, and then old notes only French Burgundies are supposed to get like graphite and tea. The Fiddlestix was so vibrant you wouldn't guess it was two decades in, and then amidst all the fruit, some mushroomy notes began to bloom on the finish. Such fun wines, and one of the reasons you go to an event like this--to get what you'd never have a shot at otherwise. I mean, he wasn't even hiding these under the table.

Then I want to highlight a few wines that just capture a sense of place, and in one case even a sense of an era. You could almost start a friction-created blaze trying to pass people to get near the Sea Smoke table (get it, where there's smoke there's fire?), and the 2019 Southing struts like the Sta. Rita Hills on steroids, and I say that as someone who loved every one of Barry Bonds' 73 homers in 2001, a pre-pursuit of balance year this lovable lug of a Pinot also reminded me of. Foxen rocked, as usual, but this WOPN I was most taken by their Santa Maria Valley bottling, in particular the 2017 Block 8 Bien Nacido. That's BN's highest elevation, so maybe that helps make it so wonderfully aromatic I was practically content just sniffing it, but after tasting it wrote "people don't know what cherry in Pinot Noir is if they haven't tasted this wine." 

Continuing north through California up Edna Valley way there's the 2018 Stephen Ross Stone Corral Vineyard, a site Ross shares with the alas not at the event Kynsi. Kettmann in the Wine Enthusiast put it this way, "Dark-cherry and black-raspberry aromas meet with loads of crushed slate and dried loam as well as hibiscus and rosewater on the dynamic nose of this bottling. The palate is also very rocky and mineral-driven, while showing darker plum and purple-flower flavors." That works. The mineral-driven nature really woke up my palate on a long Saturday afternoon.

To almost end, let's consider something northy north in California, one of my favorite vineyards, Savoy in Anderson Valley. Now owned by FEL, I've been going there since it was Breggo many moons ago, and it still makes one of the most elegant and haunting of Pinots. It's as if you can sense the nearby redwoods lurking in each bottle.

All that said, I'd be remiss not to mention two of the better out from under the table moments. Despite Chardonnay being Pinot's Burgundian brother (or is that sister? does it depend upon the wine?), and despite almost all of the wineries present making both, it's kind of considered bad form to play up your Chardonnays. Some place just went and poured them, and more power to them. Some hid theirs away. For example, Liquid Farm offered me a 2015 Golden Slope Chardonnay and lord knows it deserves its tip-of-the-cap name to the Cote d’Or, so creamy and luscious (it almost recalled one of my favorite SBC whites, Stolpman's L'Avion Roussanne, somehow).

In a complete different, equally pleasing way, Greg Brewer had his latest just-to-be-released 2021 Diatom Chardonnay hidden away. As Brewer puts it on his website, "Diatom is motivated by the pursuit of subtraction and refinement," which makes it a vision of purity. Alas, at that point in the tasting, close to close at 6 pm, I managed to make this brilliant observation as he drew the bottle out and said it was his new release, "You mean a 2022?"

Uh, no, this year's wines aren't released yet, as they are still sleeping in baby buds, dummy. I do want to give myself a bit of a break, though--what with no in-person WOPN last year, and the excitement of getting to see so many great wine friends again this year, it's tough to know what time it is.

To Syrah, with Love

 

While the term Rhone Rangers always makes me think of winemakers astride giant wine bottles in Monument Valley--"Heigh ho, Nebuchadnezzar, away!"--the serious side of me never minds a ride with a few glasses of Syrah (or Grenache or Mourvedre or...). For as Santa Barbara legend Bob Lindquist put it, quoting Jim Fiolek, "Syrah delivers what Merlot promised." 

All of that is a far too fanciful way to introduce a quick look at the Santa Barbara Rhone Rangers' recent event on February 4, a Syrah tasting that took viewers on a quick tour of the county. Moderated by Lamar Engel of The Wine Militia (sorry, but by now that's a name that has to change, no?), it featured a stellar winemaker cast with brilliant bottles to boot:  

 Larry Schaffer of tercero wines with his 2014 Syrah - Larner Vineyard, Ballard Canyon 

Matt Brady of SAMsARA Wines with his 2017 Syrah - Zotovich Vineyard, Sta Rita Hills  

Kristin Bryden of Zaca Mesa with her 2016 Syrah - Black Bear Block, Estate Vineyard, Los Olivos

And the aforementioned - Bob Lindquist of Lindquist Wines with a barrel sample of his 2019 Syrah - Bien Nacido Vyd Z Block, Santa Maria Valley  

The group was wise, entertaining, and sometimes geeky, even entering into a clone discussion of Syrah as if it were all finicky like Pinot Noir or something! (Although they seemed to agree that site trumps clone for making a good wine.) Whatever the topic, this free Zoom also made clear Santa Barbara winemaking stands tall (and often foot stomps hard). 

And, perhaps, underlined one of the "problems" for creating a vinous Santa Barbara County identity. For this event featured four delicious syrahs (and we were lucky to taste three of them, all except for the barrel sample, and for that we swapped in a Jaffurs 2016 Syrah Bien Nacido Vineyard, which was a gorgeous monster, btw) that made clear site and winemaking will lead you to very different expressions of the same grape. The tercero, at just 12.9% ABV, lured you in to its loveliness, with a floral character the others didn't touch. It's the kind of wine that forces you to wake up and be aware, which is a good thing. The SAMsARA, with Brady's fondness for whole cluster, added a pleasing, despite the words I'm going to use, vegetal funk--a unique wine that made you keep sipping more. The Zaca Mesa, from the warmest location (and the SB vineyard that first planted Syrah way back when--we got a lot of history, too), had a fascinating depth and spice. And then Bob's wine--well, we don't know as we couldn't have any, but how could it not rock having been made by one of our county's founding wine fathers?

Even better, the SB Rhone Rangers will be doing more of these events, so go check out what they have to offer. And drink their wines--you won't get one expression of anything, but you will get a scrumptiously expressive everything. 

Larry Schaffer Pours Wine & Words

Writing, particularly wine writing, is a tricky business folks (so leave it to the professionals!). If you try to be even vaguely journalistic (hey, that's like pretty much all journalism these days!) and reach out to people with questions, sometimes the story you finally end up writing doesn't include some of your sources, however perspicacious he or she might have been when giving you answers.

So, while I've been doing some reporting on Santa Barbara Vintners Road Trip LA--see my post on a wine dinner with unusual varietals and my blog on the state of Bordeaux varietals in SB--I never had a good spot to include a fine Q&A with Larry Schaffer, owner and winemaker of tercero wines, and one of the most indefatigable proselytizers for Santa Barbara County. I have to admit, I'm sorry I missed him pouring at both the Rhone varietals day and at what sounded like an amazing BBQ at Rose Cafe in Venice featuring, of course, rosé wines.

That said, here's what Larry said in response to a few leading questions.

George Eats: What does LA need to know about SB County Rhone varietals?

Schaffer: What I want LA to know about SB County Rhone varietals is that we actually excel at producing balanced, food friendly versions of the majority of the 22 varieties that are considered Rhone varieties. And just as importantly, I want the folks in LA and beyond to realize that Santa Barbara County is NOT synonymous with "Central Coast"--the former is our county alone whereas the latter stretches from the San Francisco Bay to Ventura. It encompasses Monterey, SLO, and Santa Barbara counties, among others, each with our own distinct characteristics. I'm really pushing for the "Central Coast" moniker to be underplayed at this point and for folks to use Santa Barbara, SLO, etc. to talk about specific areas.

George Eats: Is that different from what EVERYone needs to know, and if so, why?

Schaffer: Yes, in the sense that LA is somewhat our grape growing region's backyard--but sometimes it does not feel that way. It appears that most folks in LA and Orange County, given the choice, are predisposed to driving to Paso or flying to Napa as opposed to coming to Santa Barbara County. And I believe that is our fault as a region--not being active enough in the area as a whole to educate LA from top to bottom what our region has to offer. And this road trip is a great start to hopefully changing that viewpoint.

George Eats: Which of your Rhone varietals will you be pouring, and what should possible attendees know about them? [editors note: this question hurts a bit, as the events are passed, but don't worry, Larry will certainly be pouring somewhere else soon, plus visit his tasting room!]

Schaffer: I will be taking part in a seminar for the trade and media on Wednesday, and at that seminar, I will be pouring my 2011 Grenache from the Larner Vineyard in Ballard Canyon. I will also be pouring my 2015 Mourvedre Rosé, my Greanche Blanc, my Mourvedre and probably a few others, if I can sneak them in :-)  I'm hopeful that attendees will approach the tasting with a desire to learn about varieties they may not be familiar with. I'm confident that they will come away quite pleased at their discoveries. And I also want to educate them about the Rhone Rangers organization, of whose Santa Barbara County chapter I am President.

George Eats: How else can Santa Barbara "take-over" LA?

Schaffer: As mentioned above, this is a great start, but simply that--we as a region need to keep our pedal to the floor and continue this process each and every year, just as other counties from throughout CA and beyond do. One of the "blessings" in this challenge is that the wines and experiences they will have here in Santa Barbara County are top notch--we just need to alter and create new perceptions and market better to our potential visitors! And by experiencing our wines more often throughout the LA area, they will see this quite clearly.

Rhone Rangers Offer Up All of Grenache's Guises

 (photo courtesy Larry Schaffer)

You might not trick anybody if you ask him or her what's the most commonly grown wine grape in the world. Most people would guess or know it's cabernet sauvignon. But you could win quite a few bar bets asking people what's the second most commonly grown wine grape globally.

Meet Grenache. A work horse in the Rhone region of France, a favorite in Australia, a cornerstone of the Spanish wine industry (some think it originated there, where it's called Garnacha), Grenache has a checkered history in the U.S. Because as much as the varietal can make delicious wines -- think Châteauneuf-du-Pape -- it also can grow prodigiously, and for years was crucial to filling millions of jugs of wine coming out of California's Central Valley. And you know how it is when you're cheap and loved by everybody -- you don't get the best of reputations.

Want to read the rest then do so at KCET's Food Blog.

Should the Local Food Movement Include Wine?

Finding the word "local" on a menu is practically cliché; there may be a day when vegetables grown in a restaurant's own garden won't be enough anymore. We might wind up at "micro-local" soon: "We grew the greens for your salad in a pot at your table."

Given that focus on food, it seems strange that restaurants might not feel the need to serve local wines, too. Matt Kramer of the Wine Spectator wrote a recent column asking, "Do wine directors and sommeliers have any obligation to champion nearby wineries?" Since he focused on Northern California and Oregon, I thought it might be illuminating to examine the issue in Southern California.

Want to read the rest then do so at KCET's Food Blog.

Tercero Verbiage Blanc

Tercero Verbiage Blanc 2013: The back label of Larry Schaffer’s latest white Rhone blend claims, “I love to talk—a lot! I also love to make wine—a lot!” After tasting it you’ll say you love Verbiage Blanc—a lot!

Want to read the rest then do so at the Indy's site.

Why Size Doesn't Matter

There are hundreds of reasons to go to wine festivals - often that's the number of wines you can have poured into your tasting glass - but one of the best is to get to meet and hear the winemakers talk their craft. We don't get to do this enough in the world, to hear artisans talk their way through what they do. Luckily, many winemakers are loquacious, like Larry Schaffer of Tercero Wines, who at the recent Garagiste Festival held in Solvang March 28-30, let loose lines like, "The wonderful thing about wine is the answer is always, 'It depends,'" and, "With grapes as good as the ones from Larner Vineyard, I don't call myself a winemaker, I call myself a grape-herder."

Want to read then rest then do so at the KCET Food Blog.

Garagiste Against the Machine

Good timing is often simply good luck, and that's certainly the case with my arrival in Santa Barbara. 1994 was pretty much the dawn of the success of the county's wine industry, so I've had the opportunity to taste and learn, over and over. In those nearly 20 years pioneers have gone bankrupt--twice--while still making terrific vino, a Hollywood film put Pinot on the map, a new AVA got carved out every few years or so, exes and partners have stood equal or more (let's not quibble) with their spouses/exes/"pals" as winemakers, people figured out where to grow Bordeaux varietals (remember the green pepper in every cab once upon a time?), and you can hit 17 wineries without even heading over the hill. Once the Wine Cask's Futures Program was the best way to keep your deeply red thumb on the vinous pulse of the county, but with that a mere memory (unless you have a really deep wine cellar), it was fascinating to attend The Garagiste Festival Southern Exposure: Celebrating the Artisan Winemakers of the Santa Ynez Valley tasting on February 16. There one got to sample the wine of 32 artisans (oh, ok, I hate that word too, but it did mean something once, and does here), who, despite sometimes having ties to larger, more established wineries, all are up to something new, and if nothing else, small. Ryan Cohchrane might win the precious prize, having made only 12 barrels of wine in 2012 (his wines all seem to have names that end "sold out").

But selling out is far from a problem with this intriguing, intrepid group. I had to start my tasting at Larry Shaffer's Tercero Wines table, who, at this point, if he's a garagiste, has at least a three-car garage. As usual he offered an abundance of riches (starting with a vivid '09 Mourvedre) and then some, as he always seems to pour something off the list, too. (OK, I have to admit this was the media/trade tasting, so everyone was trying to double impress. And that works, you know.) One of his greatest projects is a Mourvedre Rose, its pale-pale color and odd funk on the nose (barnyard?) simply not preparing the palate for such a lovely wine that he wisely compared to a Tavel.

Indeed, a pleasant preponderance of pinks on what was a warm day made summer seem very near. In addition to Tercero's, Altman Winery offered a '10 Rose from Petit Syrah that packed a surprising amount of fruit while remaining dry, A-non-ah-mus poured a '12 Rose from Syrah barrel-sample that asked for a veranda with a view to be imbibed upon, and Kaena (another one of the slightly more established garagistes) poured a '12 Grenache Rose barrel-sample to prove many a grape can make a wonderful pink wine.

Well, there's a danger of a write-up like this one to become a mere list, plus when you're trying to taste upwards of 100 wines in two hours, it becomes a bit of a stunt more than a stroll--and since the winemakers themselves were pouring, it was easy to want to linger, discovering winemaker's goals, learning about growing seasons, finding out stories like how the Miller family bought J. Wilkes after Jeff's untimely death and are carrying on his tradition (very very well, it seems).

That said, here are a few producers you want to look for, even though you might have to look hard, as their output is about what a Gallo cranks out since I typed "what a Gallo cranks out."

Ground Effect
Nick de Luca, who has worked at Star Lane/Dierberg among other places, is crafting delightful, sometimes unusual blends, like an '11 Gravity Check that includes Chenin Blanc, Albarino, and Pinot Gris, and he admits as it ages the wine seems to favor one or the other in its profile. There's also the '11 Rock Garden Syrah, Grenache, Zinfandel, a big red monster of berries and vanilla.

La Fenetre
Joshua Klapper aims for direct, elegant wines that could be alongside dictionary definitions of varietals, if you had a dictionary that you could lick to see what things were. OK, that might be a bit gross a description, but the wines--Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Syrah--are anything but.

Shai Cellars
Shawn Shai Halahamy makes bold reds. His '09 Adome is 65% Syrah and 35% Cab and %100 luscious. It could turn PETA's executive board into carnivores, it calls for steak so. His '09 Grenache, as he puts it, "is incredibly savory and meaty, showing copious amounts of dried cherries and kirsch, smoked leather, dried beef, and ground pepper on the nose. This leads to a medium-bodied wine that has a supple, light texture, notable balance, and a long finish." Not only do I agree, I can barely read my notes from this point.

After all the talk in this entry about reds and pinks, it was necessary to include the photo below, with a bit of American flag. But at least our local wine country can wave its banner proudly, with wines like these.

When you opt not to park in spots of a lot marked "Police Station Business Only" for a wine festival, it's advisable to pick a place within walking distance to eat-it-off, as it were. And since this fest ran from noon-2, it seemed a perfect time to walk into Solvang and get a delightful late lunch at Cecco. It certainly didn't hurt it was one of those Santa Barbara perfect spring days that just happen to spring in the middle of February--where else could one want to dine but al fresco in Cecco's charming courtyard? The Caesar salad is a straightforward presentation (Chef David Cecchini is a classicist at heart), all about the crisp romaine, crunchy but not gob-stopper croutons, Parmesan, and a dressing zippy with garlic and anchovy. Then came two wood-fired pizzas, the thin crusts variably charred--since they're cooked in a real wood oven--and the topings spare, but not to the point you need to hunt them down. The Pomodoro was especially lovely with its fire-roasted red and yellow tomatoes a-burst with flavor. Not that the Bianco, adrift in its "snow" of arugula, didn't offer  perfect flavor profile itself, with its salt and brine from artichoke hearts, its richness from daubs of ricotta, and then some red onion and garlic for those notes only the most strong of lilies deliver. A fine way to end the day--plenty left over for lunch the next day, too.