Paloma, SAMsARA, What a Pair-A!

So often restaurant wine dinners are extravagant and obvious: why, yes, that tannic Cab is no mistake aside the steak. And how the Chablis-like Chard sings with the whitefish sautéed in the very same wine!  

So that’s why the recent SAMsARA dinner at Paloma on March 31 subtly surprised. The first of five delicious courses kicked off with—horrors!—a red wine. A chilled red wine. That was a 2022 Grenache from Spear Vineyard, a lighter, livelier version of the grape. SAMsARA winemaker Matt Brady--an efficient, ebullient host for the evening--called it "crunchy," which pleased me to no end as in my notes just prior I used the same term, meaning either I have a perceptive palate or we both love peculiar if precise adjectives. Its mineral, playful notes perked up with the Miliken Farms Japanese sweet potato, "brûléed" with a brown sugar BBQ sauce, hit with a bit of aioli, then strewn with sesame, scallion, and a vivid pickled ginger. Between the off-beat wine opening and the grounded yet vibrant first dish, everyone around the boisterous long table had to readjust their expectations for the evening. Very good was a bar at mere ankle-height for this crew.

The second course was spring itself on a plate, Tutti Frutti sugar snap peas, artfully sliced to expose their pretty innards, tossed with a rose dressing just faintly floral, crispy guanciale, and pickled red onion (a nice nod back to the pickled ginger in the previous course--it was that kind of sly segueing that made the evening even more memorable). The peas were buried in an avalanche of grated Pecorino, rich and salty. A steely 2022 Zotovich Chardonnay provided a laser focus to keep cutting the dish into sharper diamonds of delight. 

It turns out the process for the pairings began when Brady showed up with 18 wines for the Paloma staff, led by the unassumingly talented Paloma chef John Parker, to consider. Those flavor profiles got the kitchen's team mind spinning, and coming up with delights like the third course: a grilled oyster mushroom skewer--with all of that good red oak smoke inside--hiding a line of luscious Drake farms chèvre and also atop a shallow pool of green goddess, the two different creaminesses combining as a perfect complement to the mushroom umami. It needed a bit of textural balance that it got in two clever ways, one more typical--pepitas--and another spot-on, if oddball--toasted quinoa. The wine pairing for this course might have been the most by-the-book, but as Brady pointed out, "Pinot Noir is what we're best known for," so how could we complain? Especially when it wasn't just Pinot, it was 2022 Bentrock Vineyard PN, which Brady rightfully called "a rock star, an A+ vineyard." The wine's lean but far from mean raciness, that hint of wildness, unlocked even more flavor from the terrific dish it accompanied.

 

To be honest, they could have sent me home at that point a sated, elated man. I actually made sure to share a revised version of that old Borscht Belt saw to my nearby table mates, “Such good food—and such enormous portions!” And that was even prior to the fine servers dropping Snake River Farms wagyu tri-tip in front of me: not one, not two, but three hearty slices of precisely medium rare steak. A classic peppercorn au poivre sauce and scatter of chopped chive made the dish from Santa Maria but also from Ste. Marie, if you know what I mean, a culinary mash-up that completely worked. Plus, the humble inclusion of charred cabbage carried along the good time from the grill theme in the least pretentious, yet oddly scrumptious way. 

Brady poured one of his favorites of his own wines for this course, a 2021 Zotovich Syrah (the current release is the 2022). The 100% stem inclusion gave the wine a serious backbone, but only a hint of the green that stems can offer a wine. No, this was all about black pepper, as if it had its own au poivre sauce. Who needs a Cab when a Syrah can be this wonderful?

You know, when I started this I thought I might skip a typical course by course discourse, but I couldn't help myself. Writing this is such a lovely way to re-experience the delight of a night. And sure there was dessert, fortunately piquant and bright and light as these things tend to go--doesn't graham cracker crust seem somehow less dense? And toasted meringue, well, that's just air that's somehow spun from egg white and sugar--you could eat a bucket of that and it would barely register, no? Grapefruit curd is a fruit, so pretty much salad. White chocolate pearls are precious textural crunch and more eye candy than candy-candy, right? What's more, we washed it all down with a 2023 Blanc de Blanc that had the good breadiness you want from a sparkling wine but also a snappy depth and its own citrus bite. Another brilliant pairing that made the food better as the food made the wine better.

Kicking things off Brady made clear the SAMsARA mantra, "Let the site shine, don't put our fingers on the scales." That's a way to think of the entire evening, an unfussy yet artfully skilled celebration of gorgeous fruit and produce and proteins that would make any Santa Barbaran proud.

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. 
 

Introducing Sparks*

James Sparks excitement. James Sparks great wine talk. And now James Sparks scrumptious sparkling wine.

But I guess for some of you I need to back-up. Let me introduce you to Kings Carey, another tiny winery that could and can in Santa Barbara County. It's pretty much all James Sparks, with tasting and marketing assistance from his wife Anna Ferguson-Sparks, and that's how you get the winery's unusual name: the couples' hometowns were (respectively) Carey, Idaho and Kings Point, New York. Sparks is better known as the winemaker for SB stalwart Liquid Farm, crafting some of our county's best Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, plus an annual killer rosé of Mourvèdre. (More on rosé in a bit.)

As with many winemakers working for someone else, Sparks also wanted to follow his own muse too. Hence, Kings Carey, producing a tiny 600-1200 cases a harvest, almost always single vineyard, single varietal. It can get tricky, as Sparks has no vineyards of his own, and he's also meticulous about what grapes he chooses to work with. He insists on organic fruit--as he puts it, "organic is proactive, not reactive"--and that means from year to year what he gets to make might change. But whatever he makes, you will want to drink, promise.

Even better, you can taste at his small winemaking facility that just celebrated its first year in a spot just past the Welcome to Solvang sign (after you leave the town going west) on the 246. Yes, he's the tasting room person, too (most of the time), so you need to book ahead, but it's worth checking out the spot that was a motel in the 1970s (one room in the space was clearly a large shower at some point, and perhaps a chilling room in Kings Carey's future) and most recently where Broken Clock Vinegar Works did something very different with grapes. 

What Sparks does is minimal, and that's why his wines tend to sing of site and varietal. It's fun to be able to side-by-side his two Chardonnays, a 2021 MarFarm from SLO with bright lemon curd loveliness and creaminess, alongside a 2021 from Spear (he's got a soft spot for this vineyard and who could blame him?) in the Sta. Rita Hills, a bit richer than the wine from a bit further north (more heat?) even if made with no new oak. Another difference between the two Chardonnays--the Edna Valley had some residual sugar, so Sparks filtered that out. So he will intervene when he has to. But that's always up to what each wine and vintage suggests he needs to do to let it shine.

Sparks particularly has an affinity for Grenache. His talent is to let the grape sing tenor without merely burying its brightness in dark berry baritone. Take the 2021 To Market Grenache he's pouring right now. At 12.5% ABV it's up to you how and when you hope to love it--give it a quick chill, and it's your warm weather red if you don't want to rosé; serve it cellar temp, and it's a versatile red for apps and cheese or weightier fish or lighter meats. 

And I promised to discuss rosé, didn't I. The Liquid Farm each year is one of our county's standouts, made from Mourvèdre, walking the knife edge of lean and fleshy to the point you keep drinking it trying to decide. That kind of balance isn't easy. But Sparks replicates it with a different but equally pleasing rosé for Kings Carey, made from Grenache, 4-hours skin contact, foot stomped, aged on the lees for 6 months in neutral 400L barrels. So steely and bright it asks where the heck the sun is, and why aren't you out in it and imbibing this delight? 

While I won't walk you through the full lineup--there's equally enticing and lively Syrah and Semillon too--Sparks' most exciting current project is sparkling. To create bubbly in small production is truly a labor of love, as you're not making enough to buy machines to riddle your bottles for you, to point out just one labor-intensive process. While his blanc de noir is still in production--méthode champenoise wine is sort of like trying to make aged bourbon, as it's going to be a many year investment until you release round one--he has released a 2021 Kings Carey Sparkling Pinot Noir Rosé from Spear Vineyard. (See, great grape source is back again.) Of course, it's been a ten-year thought process, he insists, to get to making bubbly. All that thought shows in the glass, that breadiness you want without any heft, that lift from the effervescence, and then the sweet/sour fruit tumbling like a coin that will land the way you placed your bet, every time. If this is just the "simpler" first effort, it's hard to imagine how terrific that blanc de noir will be upon release. 

Then again, Kings Carey was meant as the place where Sparks could play. You'll know that as soon as you glimpse one of the bottles, all sporting busy for a wine label art from Philadelphia-based Hawk Krall. Sparks admits to his love 1960s and '70s art with a Vegas neon feel, hence the art choice that's as bold as his wines are refined. Kings Carey teaches us about a perfect balance we never even imagined existed.

* And, yes, instead of making it clear this post is about a talented winemaker, I had to make a reference to an album title from 1977. Sorry, James! At least Sparks are having a moment again, now.

Red Blends Trend Terrifically Tasty

Since Santa Barbara County is so good at growing so many varietals of grapes so well (more than 50, if you cared to know), it makes sense its winemakers start to wonder, “What will happen if we put a bit of varietal A with some of varietal B?” Often that algebra of blending might mix varietals G, S, and M, but we’ll get to that. 

Recently the Vintners Association hosted a tasting at Santa Barbara’s delightful and delicious Barbareño that featured 13 wineries pouring 33 red blends that attested to the palates and creativity in the region. While the red blends tend to play in century-old patterns begun by the French – people generally either mix Bordeaux grapes or Rhone grapes together – of course there’s always a wildcard or two.

Want to read the rest then do so at the Santa Barbara Vintners blog.

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.

Sip This: Morgan Cotes du Crow's

Morgan Cotes du Crow's Syrah/Grenache Monterey 2014: This 53 percent grenache and 47 percent syrah blend is from vineyards in central and south Monterey, where it does get hot enough to grow fine Rhône grapes. Morgan’s owner, Dan Lee, who is a pioneer of Monterey’s pinot-pumping Santa Lucia Highlands appellation, has been on the board of the Rhone Rangers for a dozen years, so he knows his way around this delicious fruit.

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