The Glories of Another Garagiste

In our current age--that is these terrifying last few weeks of Muskocracy--it's especially good to remember the wonder of a world writ small. Not everything has to be about huge numbers (of dollars, or corruption, or case production). Enter one of my annual favorite events, the Garagiste Wine Festival. This year we were fortunate enough to attend Friday's "Rare and Reserve Kick-Off Party," even more kicky as it featured a buffet of Cajun delights from Clean Slate Wine Bar. Chef Melissa Scrymgeour rocks it, even at the catering level, especially as she's sure to feature something for those who don't do meat (in Cajun that's spelled p-o-r-k). This night it was Gumbo Z'herbes, rich, redolent, and full of everything that grew green. This repast was perfect ballast for an evening of serious wine tasting.

In case you're new to what Garagiste means, it refers to folks who might, and sometimes do, make wines in their garages. We're talking tiny productions--you can't pour at the festival if you make over 1500 cases per year. For comparison, Meiomi--which some people consider wine--makes over 2700 cases of their sweet Pinot a day. 

That means what gets poured at the Solvang Veterans' Memorial Hall is made as passion product, as experiment, for the love of wine and agriculture and the hope to please people. That's highlighted even more on Friday, as winemakers pour their rare and reserve--older vintages, barrel samples, stuff so limited in supply that you couldn't buy it if you tried to bribe someone. But it does give you a beautiful picture of what creative, committed folks are up to in the wine world.

At least on this evening, most of what was poured was red, and much of that was more, let's call them chewy varietals--think Tannat, Tempranillo, or two grapes that despite their names aren't tiny in the slightest, Petit Verdot and Petite Sirah. Much of it was from Paso Robles, too, which might explain the grape choices--it's a lot hotter up there. So Fuil Wines' barrel sample of 2024 Sauvignon Blanc from Vogelzang Vineyard truly did stand out, but might have even in a more crowded white wine field. For as Chryss put it, "I want it to be summer, drinking this wine." And the red-heavy focus didn't stop the occasional oddball, like Winespread Panic Cellars 2022 Mourvèdre that looks light as a rosé, comes in at 12.9% ABV, and they suggest you chill. Owner Mitch Cahoon was happy when I suggested it was a summer porch wine, responding, "You can pound that shit!" Now that's not your usual marketing ploy....

But if you want the usual, you don't attend Garagiste. Instead you get things like Exprimere Wines, whose website has pages for both "Philosophy" and "Science & Art." The name, btw, is Latin for "to express or intone" (it just sounds like a fancy way to say experiment). What made their two pours rare was 2022 was their first vintage, and what you get is two Santa Rita Hills Pinots (I was told from Peake Ranch), that then gets trucked up to Sonoma where they do their magic. The Mia ferments at a cool temp, while the Persey gets exposed to some outdoor sun/heat during ferment. The former is lighter, racier, the latter richer, deeper. Given all the rest of the winemaking is consistent, it really does seem like some controlled experiment after all.

Then there's Boyd Shermis at Tomi Cellars, natty in his striped sports coat, sharing a no longer available Interlaced, a Syrah/Grenache blend. While a combo of those two Rhone grapes isn't anything new, Tomi's is, as they blend older Syrah, to give it more time to round and age, with younger Grenache. The result is a non-vintage wine with components from (in this case) 2019 and 2020. The result is a fully integrated delight. (There is a new NV blend out now, don't fret, but don't wait, either, as Tomi tends to make wines in 25 case increments.)

Speaking of small, we sampled the Pinot Noir and Syrah from Etnyre Wines, whose vineyard is a massive two acres in the SLO County AVA only 3.5 miles from the Pacific. Talk about complete care and control. Talk about cool climate, ocean effect. The Etnyres also had the good fortune to lean on more established wineries in their region to get started, with Alban clones for their Syrah and Talley Rosemary's clones for their Pinot. (People in the business can truly play nice.) Pouring library offerings, the 2016 Syrah was a true standout--gamey in that good Rhone way, with plenty of blueberry fruit and spice and a long finish. 

Garagiste also often gets to show off how those with day jobs in the business working for bigger concerns still run their own tiny labels. Take Sapien Wine, run by Trevor Bethke. He's also assistant winemaker at Cordon Wines and consulting winemaker at Buellton's Easy Street Wine Collective, so he's a busy man. But he's also got a crazy background with degrees in Biochemistry and Bioanthropology. Add it up, especially when he's accessing grapes like Pinot from Fiddlestix and especially an iron fist/velvet glove Grenache from Kimsey in Ballard Canyon, and you've got impressive, elegant wines.

Our only regret Friday was knowing we weren't coming back to do the full tasting with even more winemakers pursuing their visions on Saturday. 

Garagiste Turns 10

 

Forget tiny libraries, we are here to praise tiny wineries. For February 10th was the (somehow already) 10th Annual Garagiste Wine Festival, Southern Exposure, held as usual at the Solvang Veterans' Memorial Hall. The conceit--as with bands, winemakers often kick off their careers in their garages before venturing out into rental warehouse space somewhere (often in the wilds of Lompoc or Paso Robles, say). The biggest (and that term really means little here) producer at this year's event crafts 1800 cases per vintage. For comparison, Trinchero Family Estates, which admittedly is 50 global brands under one so-called "family," produced 20 million cases of wine in 2020. Places pouring at Garagiste wouldn't even add up to the angel's share at Trinchero.

So, that means Garagiste is a place to drink deep of inspiration, experimentation, passion, play, and sure, some perspiration (not as a wine additive, promise). You can taste every varietal from Albariño to Zinfandel, with all sorts of grapes and blends in-between. You'll have the father-son team at Boutz Cellars pouring you barrel samples of their Assyrtiko, proud of the wine and their Greek heritage. Think of the wine as a Santorini retsina-resonant answer to Albariño. And that's just a bonus blast next to pours like a 2022 100% Syrah not even labeled yet, but nailing westside Paso's penchant for brooding, roasted meat notes. (Overall, Paso wineries seemed to outnumber those from Santa Barbara County this year, tbh.)

Having had the good fortune to attend many a Garagiste Festival, what also strikes me is there are new finds every year. One such find this time was Fuil, pronounced as you might think, no fooling (it comes from the Gaelic, meaning blood, kindred, nature). Winemaker Matt Espiro Jaeger is also an actor, and in a recent interview described his life: "I was literally leaving right after bows for Oedipus at the Getty Villa around 10 pm, driving 2.5 hours north to drop off my empty pick bins, napping for 2-3 hours, picking up my grapes, driving back to Camarillo, crushing and processing the grapes, driving back to LA, taking a nap, then heading back the theatre." Didn't get to see him the Sophocles so can't judge his acting, but the wines are certainly worth that hectic schedule. Worth a second sip was his 2021 Ballard Canyon Syrah, from the esteemed Kimsey Vineyard, a lighter style of that varietal that reminded of the ethereal versions of Grenache you get from A Tribute to Grace.

Or take Entity of Delight and winemaker Crosby Swinchatt (a delightful name that sounds like a Lemony Snickett invention, no?). For a young man he's had some peripatetic career, from New Zealand to Oregon to Sea Smoke to Lo-Fi right here in Santa Barbara County. He favors natural wine, so you can enjoy a fascinating 2022 Mourvèdre from the Kaerskov Vineyard in the Los Olivos District AVA (supposedly the only Danish owned and operated vineyard within the Danish city of Solvang, so now you can win that bar bet). At 12% ABV it's far from a brooding Rhone-monster, but it still pleases with leather, wild strawberry, and even some blood orange notes.

"Old" timers also pleased, too. Montemar nails varietal specificity as well as anyone, and then lets their wine bottle age to develop into its fullness. It's hard to beat their wild and fulfilling 2016 Bentrock Pinot Noir, especially at $52 a bottle. Tomi only makes 250 cases per vintage but that's split over 12 different wines on their website, 8 poured at Garagiste. Everything from a 2020 Barbera that practically ordered a plate of pasta and gravy for you to a 2020 Ambient Light Reserve Albarino aged in acacia oak--the floral on floral really works.

And then there's tercero and Larry Schaffer, Santa Barbara's mad scientist of wines. The amount of wines Schaffer makes puts even Tomi to shame--he can't stop experimenting. But that sort of makes him the poster boy for Garagiste--the point is to make wine because it's fun and you hope to try new things and please new drinkers, or reinvigorate the palates of more experienced drinkers. So while he's still nailing down his second vintage of Jurassic Park Chenin Blanc, or sharing a 2016 Roussanne (very dry, but he suggest pairing it with a dessert like a Basque cheesecake), he's also got a non-vintage red bland that's all freshness and cranberry and juicy goodness, a blend of Carignane, Cinsault and Counoise just waiting for warmer weather and your favorite afternoon spot in the sun. That blend's awfully apt name? Curiosity #1.

Which could be the theme for Garagiste, after all.

Small Wineries, Huge Vision, Big Flavors--Garagiste Fest '23

Malvasia Bianca makes up less than 0.2% of white grapes in California. But at Saturday's 9th Annual Garagiste Wine Festival--Southern Exposure, held at the Veterans Hall in Solvang, you could taste two wines made from this semi-obscure grape about ten feet apart. Being tiny does that for you as a winery--you can mess around, follow your passion, craft single expressions of grapes most often known for blending. Nobody is going to care too much, and it can't hurt your bottom line too much, as you barely have a line at all. Too often the big folks can't risk doing something that doesn't end in dollars. (Note, sometimes people experiment when the get big; in the beer world take Firestone Walker and its Barrelworks program, where all that 805 the masses wash down allows for things like Royal Street, an ale that apes a Sazerac, and it is almost Mardi Gras. Still....)

As for that Malvasia Bianca, the two versions were certainly distinct, even if both on the dry side for this white grape better known elsewhere in the world. For tercero, Larry Schaffer made a MB that's floral and perfect for the warmest days of spring. For Lepiane, Alison Thomson made a MB that sips like a fine vermouth. Such delightful and keen distinctions were a huge part of the thrill of the afternoon tasting.

So was a sense of discovery. Take the tongue-in-cheek Funky Town, a side project from the bigger and better known Ampelos. Winemaker Peter Work didn't want to grow complacent, so came up with this second, experimental label to play a bit. And what tasty play it is, including a Piquette made from the "leftovers" of Syrah and Grenache production, bright, fizzy, and a mere 7% ABV, so a perfect lunch wine. Then there's a spicy Carignane and an orange Albariño from a bit more skin contact that offers surprisingly chewy tannin for a "white" grape.

An event like Garagiste also lets you taste unusual terroir--for example, Pinot Noir from Marin County. Talk about your ocean effect--Kendric Vineyards is equidistant between Tomales Bay and the SF Bay. The result is a lighter, almost more Oregonian Pinot, with plenty of cherry but also earth and some oomph from stem inclusion. 

And then there are wines beyond the imagination, almost. At the Hermann York table one of the pourers preceded giving us a taste of their 2021 Galleano Rosso--a wine that's 100% Salvador grape--with the claim, "This doesn't really exist anymore. When you have it, it will either change your life or you'll say, 'It's not for me.'" It swirled an inky, almost ominous color in the glass. Indeed, it packs that kind of a wallop, think the zinniest of zinfandels in a bad mood. If you've ever wondered what the flavor of intensity is, here's your wine. Perfect for a grape that comes from uncertain parentage, it's rough and tumble and lovable all at once for being so much itself.

Sort of like Garagiste, still highlighting small producers (under 1900 cases a year), still supporting the Cal Poly Wine and Viticulture program (especially through silent auction at the event), still making clear bigger is far from better. And certainly not more interesting.

All apologies to all the fine wineries I didn't mention by wine in this write-up that offered lovely pours: Camins 2 Dreams, Dana V. Wines, Diablo Paso, Kimsey Vineyard, Montemar Wines, Silver Wines, and Tomi Cellars.