Archive for December, 2011

It’s The End Of The Year As We Know It, And I Feel WINE

December 30, 2011

Two truths:

1. The convention of the End-Of-Year list is most decidedly a media trope that is long overdue to be retired.

2. It is impossible to effectively summarize, in one go, an entire year.

So, that said, here are some End-Of-Year lists, and a summary of 2011!

First, the lists. Specifically, blog lists.

Top 5 blog posts on 4488: A Ridge Blog for 2011? (in terms of total viewerage)

1. Turn Black Friday Red

2. The Oak Wars

3. Zoot!

4. Robert Parker Scores Ridge

5. Julia Child and Paul Draper

Top 5 Search Engine Terms that led people to 4488: A Ridge Blog in 2011?

1. Nadia G

2. Fugazi

3. Barrel

4. Black Friday

5. Thelonious Monk

Top 3 commentors on 4488: A Ridge Blog in 2011? (Thank you!)

1. Tom Wise

2. Robert Seaney

3. Dave Tong

Top 3 Videos viewed on 4488: A Ridge Blog in 2011?

1. Harvest 2011: Picking Lytton West

2. Harvest 2011: Dusi Ranch

3. Harvest 2011: Jimsomare Chardonnay

Ok, enough lists. Onto our 2011 summary. We begin …

With January.

Seems so long ago. What on earth was happening in January of 2011? Well, it was a bit of the good and the bad. On the one hand, beloved actress Zsa Zsa Gabor had to have her leg amputated, and Roger Federer lost in the semis of the 2011 Australian Open, but on the other hand, I was auctioned by Nadia G!

How about February 2011? Well, another month of the good and the bad. One one hand, Tiger Woods was fined for spitting on a golf course. But conversely, The Ramones won a Lifetime Achievement Grammy. So, all’s well that ends well. And at Ridge? Well, February 2011 saw the Monte Bello Hospitality Team go pruning, and of course, it was ZAP! And that was all good.

Which brings us to March. The month in which I enjoyed the greatest tasting experience of my entire life. The Monte Bello Assemblage Tasting. Did I care that Hillary Clinton was in Egypt? That Space Shuttle Discovery was making its final landing? That Coptic Christians and Muslims were at each other’s throats in Cairo? That Phil Collins retired? That the Superintendent of the Chicago Police Force was stepping down? Nah, didn’t even notice. I was making Monte Bello!

Which means I almost didn’t even wake up for April. But good thing I did! Otherwise, I would have missed Penelope Cruz getting her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame! And I wouldn’t have known that Dennis Rodman was getting inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame! And heaven forfend if I wasn’t present and accounted for when they announced the guestlist for the wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton! And on top of all that, I wouldn’t have been there to celebrate the anniversary of The Judgement of Paris!!!

Things finally calmed down a bit in May. Not much going on. Osama Bin Laden was killed, and we hosted the Final Assemblage Tasting for the 2010 Monte Bello. But that was about it.

June was a whole different animal. Very emotional. There was some loss. I’m not gonna lie about it. We lost Peter Falk AND Clarence Clemons. That was hard to take.  But there were new beginnings as well. We saw bloom on the mountain. That was beautiful. Samsara. The circle.

By July, we’d gotten our heads on straight again, and we were ready to rock. Everybody was ready. To rock, and to swing. The Arab Spring was rocking. The Queensland Reds of Australia were rocking (they defeated the Canterbury Crusaders of New Zealand 18-13 to win the Super Rugby championship). Jane Austen was rocking (A rare manuscript of an unfinished novel sold for 1.6 million dollars at auction!). Even Jürgen Klinsmann was rocking. He was named head coach of the United States men’s national soccer team. And Ridge Vineyards was rocking too.  We rocked probably the hardest at Zinbo #1. That was some serious rocking. Zinfandel and BBQ. Yeah, that’s the rock. Let it rock, let it rock, let it rock. I want to rock. Rock and roll hootchie koo. I love rock n’ roll. For those about to rock. Rock you like a hurricane.

August is a funny month. You never can tell with August. Sometimes it’s groovy, sometimes it’s funky. It can have the funk, but it can also get in the groove. The 2011 rendition of August was mostly kind of funky. I mean, after all, dig this synchronicity. In the same month, Tim Pawlenty announced the end of his campaign for the Republican Party presidential nomination, and Jhala Nath Khanal resigned as the Prime Minister of Nepal! Crazy! And that’s not all! It only gets weirder! Dig this: Nick Ashford of Ashford & Simpson dies in the same month that Jerry Leiber of Leiber & Stoller dies! Crazy!!!!! And if that weren’t enough, both Lady Gaga and Katy Perry got banned by The Ministry of Culture of the People’s Republic of China. Crazy!!!!!!!!!! Fortunately, things were pretty stable at Ridge Vineyards. In order to combat all that CRAZINESS out there, we relied on the consistency of a series; in this case, our Ten Questions with Paul Draper series. Something about checking in with Paul on a regular basis, all month long, felt soothing. He comforted us. He got us through.

By September, we were back in control. We knew what was going on, we were in the saddle. Sonya Thomas won the United States Chicken Wing Eating Championship without batting an eyelid. That New Zealand Emperor Penguin was back in the ocean. And Google+ hit the ground running. And as to us? Solid. We started the month with Fall Release Tastings at Monte Bello and Lytton Springs, and just kept on rocking in the free world after that. Rocking in the free world.

October was pretty crazy. There’s just no gettin’ around it. Things were nuts. The NBA went on lockout. Steve Jobs passed. Sarah Palin declined to throw her hat in the presidential ring. A swede won the Nobel Prize for Literature. Paul McCartney got married again. Wootton Bassett became Royal Wootton Bassett. And the St. Louis Cardinals won the World Series. S#*t was crazy. Here too. Harvest began on the mountain. Which was crazy.

November is recent enough that I feel I still remember it. I remember China launching the unmanned Shenzhou 8 spacecraft. I remember the 5.6 magnitude earthquake NNE of Shawnee, Oklahoma. I remember the resignation of Silvio Belusconi. And the sentencing of Dr. Conrad Murray. And most of all, I remember what I was thankful for.

Which brings us to December. The end of the year as we know it. And I feel wine.

And I hope that you do too!

On behalf of all of us at Ridge Vineyards, we thank you for an extraordinary 2011.

May you all have a safe, happy, and healthy 2012!

Cheers!

I mean, CHEERS!

I Spy With My Little Eye … A 2006 Monte Bello!

December 30, 2011

I have been thinking about the 2006 Monte Bello lately. I remember it as a really fine and intense wine, but it’s been a while since I last tasted it. I need to fix that …

2006 Ridge Vineyards Monte Bello

The wine looks younger than young in the glass — a dazzlingly youthful presentation — with deep, rich purples and magentas plaited together in a luxuriant braid of viscously ambrosial succulence that atunes perfectly to the hearty berries and piquant umaminess of the bouquet. It must be said again, the youthful presentation is dazzling in its come-on. With some years of bottle age now at its disposal, the wine is still shy upon arrival, and takes a bit of coaxing to be drawn out. But as it emerges, a tremendous incrassation is enacted; oxygen working on wine, poetry working on life.

Mouthfeel is ever so slightly taut by comparison; architectural and tannin-driven, though the tannins themselves manage to be snowflake tender. The fruit is blacker at point-of-entry, near tenebrous in its intensity, yet with an eyebrow cocked. As the wine lands on the fat of the tongue, the viscidity spreads like ripples in a pond, laying lavish and opulent across the four-posts of the palate. There is the beginning of an herb and spice layer in development towards the middle of the journey southward, with an adumbration of clove, chicory, and pipe tobacco ghosting its silhouette upon the walls as the wine glissades onwards towards its finish.

The finish itself is the wine’s truest display of youthful circumspection; a demurement of coy promise sealed in a locked journal of poetic and impassionate angst. The hints are there, but the mystery is sealed. The wine closes off and leaves one with the tautness evident at first taste, though a shift from tannin to acid has upended the flavor paradigm somewhat. At first taste, I wanted a hard cheese —- high in salt, chalky in texture — to absorb the fruit, control and subdue the intensity, corral the plainsong wildness. Now, at final taste, I wish for Mt. Tam. Cowgirl Creamery, bless you your Monte-Bello-taming heart.

Cowgirl Creamery, Mt. Tam

 

And bless you, 2006 Monte Bello, it’s so very nice to see you again …
 
 

Fog. Fog On The Mountain.

December 30, 2011

 

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,                              
And seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

 

(poetry excerpt above from “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” by T.S. Eliot

Monte Bello Sunset: A Fire In The Sky/Fire On The Mountain

December 29, 2011

…There’s a dragon with matches that’s loose on the town…

… A fire in the sky …

 

 

For Those About To Type, Part II

December 29, 2011

For those of you who may have read about (or attended!) our recent Wine Bloggers Tasting, you’ll know that part of the experience involved our guest Wine Bloggers having a go at crafting tasting notes on one or more of four different vintage manual typewriters.

(You can read about the tasting, and see pictures of the typewriters and those who used them, here)

While their efforts were certainly valiant in this regard, it might also possibly be slightly safe to say that (borrowing a phrase from JeffIsRad at the Stay Rad Wine Blog) there was perhaps in evidence the occasional lack of “pinky strength” …

You be the judge!

(click on any image below, and you’ll be taken to an attachments page, where you can then scroll left or right to see all the images)

‘Twas The Night Before: The Ballad of Old Saint Wine, The Holiday Wine Elf

December 23, 2011

‘Twas The Night Before: The Ballad Of Old Saint Wine, The Holiday Wine Elf

 

‘Twas the night before tomorrow

and all through the kitchen

not a bottle was decanted

not even the Lytton

 

And the wine rack was set

on the counter with care

in hopes that new bottles

soon would be there

 

Kids the world over

all snug in their beds

as visions of verticals

danced in my head

 

And mama with a zin,

(a magnum, not a fifth)

was trying to bribe me

to wrap up some gifts

 

When out on the lawn

there arose such a clatter

I sprang from the floor

to see what was the matter

 

Away to the window

to see what I’d find

I pulled on the cord

and opened the blinds

 

The moon on the breast

of the new-fallen snow

branches making shadows

like the prongs of an Ah So

 

When what, to my wondering

eyes should appear

But an American Oak barrel

pulled by 6 strong wine-deer

 

And a little old driver

on the barrel, supine

and I knew in a moment

it must be Saint Wine!

 

More rapid than pump-overs

the wine-deer they came

and he whistled and shouted

and called them by name

 

“Now Merlot, now Syrah,

now you too Chardonnay

On Zin, on Grenache,

and on Cabernet!

 

To the top of the porch,

to the top of the wall

now dash away, dash away

dash away all!”

 

So up to the house-top

the wine-deer, they flew

with that neutral oak barrel

and Old Saint Wine too!

 

And then in a twinkling

I heard on the roof

the prancing and pawing

of each little hoof

 

As I drew in my head

and was turning around

down the chimney St. Wine

came with a bound

 

He was dressed all in grapeskins

from his head to his foot

and his tannins were tarnished

with ashes and soot

 

And a casebox of wine

he flung on his shoulder

A fine mix of vintages

from younger to older

 

His dimples, how merry

his eyes, such a blue

his teeth, once so white

now a purplish hue!

 

His moist little mouth

was open to speak

As his beard, white as snow

lined with thin purple streaks

 

The stump of a cigar

on his lip, balanced handily

with the smoke reaching upwards

like leaves in the canopy

 

He had a broad face

a little round belly

that shook when he laughed

like Cabernet jelly

 

He was chubby and plump

a right tipsy old elf

and I laughed when I saw him

in spite of myself

 

A wink of his eye

and a twist of his head

soon gave me to know

I had nothing to dread

 

He hummed to himself

then, as if just to tempt me

he filled up the wine rack

‘til no slot was empty

 

And laying his finger

aside of his nose

and giving a nod

up the chimney he rose

 

He sprang to his barrel

to the team gave a sign

and away they all flew

like the dew on a vine

 

But I heard him exclaim

in the winter moonshine

A good wine to all,

and to all a good wine.

 (written with both respect for, and apologies to, Clement Clarke Moore, the author of the original “The Night Before Christmas”)

For Those About To Type, We Salute You ! The Final Wine Bloggers Tasting of 2011 …

December 20, 2011

Anyone who’s read about this tasting series, or perhaps even attended an episode, will know that there is always a theme to each tasting event. This was again the case for what was the final Wine Bloggers Tasting of 2011, held recently here at Monte Bello.

I must say, that as we’ve progressed the series, it has gotten potentially more and more challenging to develop engaging and creative themes. Fortunately, Ridge itself is a unique and surprising enough institution that quite often, the themes essentially present themselves. The theme for 2011: Episode IV, was suggested by the release of a new series of wines from Ridge Vineyards, our Historic Vineyard Series.

Thus, the theme was History, a viticultural going back in time. Each of the Historic Vineyard Series wines is crafted from fruit coming specifically from blocks that conform to the original historic plantings of our mountain’s “Founding Farmer Families,” and as such, each harkens back to a time when the mountain was comparatively raw and uncharted, a time before much of what we now take for granted in the modern world had been invented, a time long before electricity had even come to the mountain.

To set the stage for our oenophilic time travel, I set a price of admission for our guest Wine Bloggers. To participate in the tasting, each would have to commit to typing at least one tasting note on a vintage manual typewriter, four of which I provided from my personal collection, with the oldest dating to 1924. All agreed, and the game was afoot!

Upon arrival, each of our guests was greeted with a glass of the 2008 Monte Bello Chardonnay, for my money, one of the greatest Monte Bello Chardonnays Ridge Vineyards has ever produced. This was just a treat to get things off on the right foot, a little treat to whet the collective viticultural whistles.

(As an aside, I should note that the event was not in any way shape or form some sort of No Tech Zone. These ARE wine bloggers after all. So the public access Wi Fi was live, and we had a Twitterfall feed up to chronicle the chatter as it happened in real-time.)

Anyhow, after everyone had settled in, I distributed some information about our Historic Vineyard Series wines, and poured the first offering, the 2009 Klein Cabernet Sauvignon. In keeping with its cool-climate origins, this 100% solo-varietal Cabernet stuns with its subtlety, elegance, balance, approachability, minerality, and herbaceousness. It shows as proof once again that cool-climate cabs have a unique potential to reflect a truly singular sophistication. I’ve nothing against muscle wines per se, provided they’re built well, but give me a cool-climate cab any day! It’s sort of like the difference between Steven Wright and Sam Kinison. Or Bruce Springsteen’s “Nebraska” and Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA.” Or the quiet part of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and the loud bit. Or Mary Oliver and Charles Bukowski. Or “Casablanca” and “The Bourne Identity.” Or Basil Rathbone’s Sherlock Holmes and Robert Downey’s.

Anyhow, from here we moved to the Torre Ranch Merlot, a perfect showcase for the upended paradigm that is a cool-climate mountain property; here, the Cab provides the subtlety, whereas it’s actually the Merlot that brings the structure. In our archetypal Monte Bello assemblage construct, the Merlot provides the beams and girders, the Cab paints the walls in. That said, on its own in solo-varietal fashion, the Merlot is most certainly not without grace; it still manages to be balletic in its power, not unlike a star athlete; a compressed and perfectly calibrated reconciliation of grace and force.

We concluded this portion of the tasting with the Perrone Cabernet Franc. In my estimation, the Cabernet Franc grown on our mountain is of a superior caliber on a shockingly regular basic; but the intensity of its acid profile in particular means its potential role in the assemblages is often constrained. On its own, however, it is what I oft refer to as “an excitement wine.” Excitement wines are those that somehow rise above their impressive component profiles (acid, tannin, fruit, herbs, alcohol, minerality, etc.) and functionally well-executed structures to achieve a mysterious captivatory quality that transcends simple flavor. They leap out of the glass, capture your attention, deploy an indecipherable layer of attraction that, for lack of a better term, is truly exciting. Pure and unadulterated excitement in the glass.

Continuing with our looking back into the past theme, I then introduced the second portion of our tasting, a three-vintage vertical of Library Estate Cabernet; the 2003, 2004, and 2005 vintages. As I have recently reviewed these wines on this blog, I’ll opt to let you read from some of our guest’s works; some of which can be found by clicking the following links:

http://comeforthewine.blogspot.com/2011/12/ridge-monte-bello-blogger-tasting.html

http://stayradwineblog.com/2011/12/11/pinky-strength-the-ridgevineyards-blogger-tasting/

http://www.givemegrapes.com/2011/12/vintage-bloggers-wine-tasting.html

 and to see my notes, you can click here (you’ll need to scroll down to just below mid-page):

http://blog.ridgewine.com/2011/10/28/the-2011-ridge-vineyards-holiday-packs-are-here/

Our tasting closed with another fascinating contribution from the magical vaults of one Allan Bree, who goes back far enough with Ridge to remember calling Paul Draper with a tin can and string.

Kidding! I’m kidding, I’m a kidder, I kid …

In all seriousness, Allan does go back a ways with Ridge Vineyards, which means that any time he brings something special, you can be sure it’s going to be special. Should you wish to do so, you can click the following to read of some past examples of Allan’s generosity:

 http://blog.ridgewine.com/?s=allan+bree

For today’s tasting, he brought something we later determined constituted a full 5% of the world’s available supply. Meaning, Ridge itself only has about a case of this wine left, and Allan had two bottles, one of which he shared with the Wine Bloggers Tastings. It’s about as rare a Ridge wine as can be found, partly due to its bottle age, and primarily because Ridge only ever made it once. One vintage. Only 33 barrels produced. Most of which, as far as we can tell, no longer exists. Unless you have some?

Oh, the wine, of course! A 1994 Monte Rosso Zinfandel! And may I say, it was delicious! Which was particularly impressive, given Paul Draper’s original estimates of its longevity. From the original label text:

These very ripe grapes—like those in the Ridge ’79 and ’80 Glen Ellens from the adjacent Moon Mountain vineyard—were the very first zinfandels of the vintage to be harvested. This old-vine fruit from Monte Rosso’s warm, red-earth slopes received special attention. To maximize intensity, we used three small tanks rather than a single large fermentor. Despite keeping new cooperage to twenty-five percent, spicy oak is a major component, complementing the wine’s rich, black fruit. This big—yet elegant —zinfandel will benefit from a year of bottle age, and be at its best over the next five to eight years. PD (12/95)

Suffice it to say, it was quite a tasting, and in fact it was quite a year of tasting. This is the second year of our Wine Bloggers Tasting series, and I couldn’t be more thrilled with its development and progress.

I’ve gotten to know a fantastic and fascinating cadre of writers and wine lovers, and I’ve tasted an extraordinary roster of wines in truly great company.

I thank all of our guests over this past year for their participation, and I thank Ridge Vineyards for continuing to produce exquisitely crafted and magical wines, for providing support for this series, and for blessing me with the job of writing the Ridge Vineyards blog!

Cheers to all, and thank you for a great 2011’s worth of Wine Bloggers Tastings!

And as a final note of appreciation for our Wine Bloggers, and to that oft-misunderstood subset of the population at large that is the Wine Blogger Community, might I just point out that Wine Bloggers too appreciate the importance of wearing groovy footwear whilst drinking fine wine

A Toast

December 15, 2011

A toast.

An act that goes back millenia.

To raise a glass — in acknowledgement, in recognition, in celebration — is to descend gently into the rolling waters of human history.

We have been toasting life, death, love, loss, achievement, failure, happiness, sadness, fortune and misfortune, for nearly as long as we’ve been able to recognize ourselves as ourselves. In fact, the act of toasting may very likely prove to be the very first act of self-awareness that our species ever knew.

It’s quite possible that, with the toast, humans finally recognized themselves.

The point being, is that the act of toasting something, or someone, is a very primal, fundamental, necessary act of recognition.

And then there is war.

War too, sadly, dates equally back.

For as long as there has been history, there has been war.

Strange that the two have so often co-existed; war, and toasts

In war, we find the seeds of destruction, whereas in the toast, we have the root of affirmation.

To go to war is to negate, to toast is to celebrate.

Today, somewhat quietly, the United States concluded the war in Iraq.

Regardless of anyone’s feeling about that war, or any war, I like to believe we’re all pleased to see it end.

So perhaps in equally quiet a fashion, we can toast tonight.

And please know, I don’t ask you to raise a glass of Ridge. I just hope you can raise a glass. Any glass, any liquid, any company.

A toast!

A toast

to the end

of the war.

Becoming YOUR Bottle …

December 15, 2011

The bottling line. Does it conjure anything for you? Me neither. At least, it didn’t used to, before I worked on one. Then when I did, for the first time, bottle, I thought it was mesmerizing. At first. Then, I thought it was tiring. Long, tiring, even kind of boring. It was too physical to be meditative, too repetitive to be interesting. So again, no conjuring. The bottling line. No resonance.

Then I received this picture …

The picture came from Will Thomas, our viticulturist up at Lytton Springs. This is a shot of the bottling line at Lytton; they’re bottling the Ponzo Zinfandel. And for some reason, it really struck me. The bottling line.

It occurred to me that there is something that happens on the bottling line that is completely, utterly unique amidst all the processes involved in the making of wine.

It is on the bottling line that wine — a lot of wine; gallons upon gallons upon gallons of it — transforms from wine in the grand abstract, to the very specific reality of YOUR bottle of wine. On the bottling line is where that grand mass of liquid, housed in some enormous tank, or spread out across a multitude of anonymous barrels, becomes YOUR personal bottle of wine. YOUR bottle of wine is born on the bottling line.

Who can know now what might happen to that bottle, what might become of it, what unforgettable experience or ritual it might play a role in? It might be the wine on the table at the restaurant you dine in on the night you ask your lover to become your spouse. It might be the first wine you taste in the first hours after your first child is born. It might be the first wine you serve with the first holiday dinner you cook the first year after your grandmother passes away. It might be the wine you pour on your father’s grave as they return him to the earth from whence he came. It might be the wine you drink to celebrate the 50th anniversary of your wedding. It might be the wine you give your son the night he becomes a father. It might be the wine your share with a best friend you reconnect with after 20 years of not talking. It might be the wine you drink with a great loaf of bread, an excellent hunk of cheese, and a really good book, all by yourself, on some beach somewhere, on some anonymous Sunday, some year, in some country, that is in fact one of the most pleasant days of your life.

That wine may have just been born on the bottling line.

A Broom & A Bottle of Wine

December 11, 2011

If you were listening to NPR this morning, and happened to catch The Writer’s Almanac (hosted by Lake Wobegon’s own Garrison Keillor), you would have heard Mr. Keillor reading a stark and stunning poem by the evisceratingly poignant poet Jim Harrison, whose birthday it is today, the 11th of December.

Wine plays an emotionally significant role in the poem, and does so in such a way as to support once again the theorem that in wine, we have our liquid of ritual. Enjoy.

Broom

To remember you’re alive
visit the cemetery of your father
at noon after you’ve made love
and are still wrapped in a mammalian
odor that you are forced to cherish.
Under each stone is someone’s inevitable
surprise, the unexpected death
of their biology that struggled hard, as it must.
Now to home without looking back,
enough is enough.
En route buy the best wine
you can afford and a dozen stiff brooms.
Have a few swallows then throw the furniture
out the window and begin sweeping.
Sweep until the walls are
bare of paint and at your feet sweep
until the floor disappears. Finish the wine
in this field of air, return to the cemetery
in evening and wind through the stones
a slow dance of your name visible only to birds.


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