Archive for the ‘Wine & Spirituality’ Category

Pro Tools: Ingredient Labeling, Pre-Industrial Winemaking, & The Seventeen Syllables of Wine.

April 26, 2013

Ridge Vineyards is adding ingredients to its back labels.

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StillLifeWithGeyservilleLabels

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“Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art.” – Chopin

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The premise is this, that if the raw materials are there, and they’re good, then not that much else is needed.

 

Son House and a National

 

Basho and seventeen syllables.

 

Rothko and red.

 

Kerouac and an Underwood.

 

Anonymous Four and Hildegard von Bingen.

 

Chopin and a piano.

 

Tenshō Shūbun and ink.

 

~

 

Pro Tools.

 

If you’re familiar with it, then you either curse it as a devil, or praise it as a god, but whatever your feelings, it’s hard to dispute the truth of Pro Tools and the music industry.

 

It changed everything. Can’t sing in tune? Pro Tools has you covered. Can’t play in time? Pro Tools has a drum loop just for you.  Third verse should have been the first? Pro Tools can shift that around for you. Need a piano part, but no one in the band plays piano? Pro Tools. Real marimba cost too much? Pro Tools.

 

And so on.

 

I may sound cynical, but I’m no Luddite. I was working with Todd Rundgren in San Francisco back in the very early nineties, on an interactive music project. We were still in the CD-Rom days then. I was there at the beginning. I recorded an entire album on ADAT when it was only me and the Grateful Dead team using them. And while my first album was on analog tape, my last one was with Pro Tools.

 

Pro Tools.

 

There is a great story about Pro Tools.

 

The setting? A music production conference. All producers and engineers. No rock stars, just tech geeks. Pro Tools was looming on the horizon; to some, it was the beginning; to others, the end. A team of designers gave a talk. They extolled the virtues of what Pro Tools could and would do. It was controversial. People shouted, friendships collapsed, factions formed. In the middle of it all, a seasoned veteran stood up. The place quieted down. He had a lot of gold records. When it was down to silence, he pointed to himself, and said the word, “Pro.” Then he held up a razor, and said “Tools.” And he walked out.

 

Buffalo Springfield’s “Broken Arrow” famously took some 60+ takes to create, with all the different sections spliced together; this was how it was done in the old days; tape and a razor. And yes, this was manipulation of a kind, but what’s important is that EVERY note on the final recording is a REAL note, played by a real person, using a real instrument. The song was assembled from native parts, and raw material.

Just like Monte Bello is assembled.

 

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Ridge Vineyards has elected to include an ingredients list on its labels. Here is Paul Draper on why:

 

At Ridge we call our approach to winemaking “pre-industrial”. We believe that for anyone attempting to make fine wine, modern additives and invasive processing limit true quality and do not allow the distinctive character of a fine vineyard to determine the character of the wine.

 

Ridge is adding to its labels a list of actions and ingredients to demonstrate how little intervention is necessary to produce a fine, terroir-driven wine from distinctive fruit.

 

This is philosophy, and this is principle. And this is reason enough.

 

But not the only reason. Consider safety and health.

 

Did you know that The TTB (Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau) has approved over 60 different additives for use in wine? Some are fairly benign of course, but some are not. Consider Velcorin. It’s approved. And here is just a sampling of what our friends over at PinotBlogger.com found out about it:

 

Special Remarks on other Toxic Effects on Humans:

Acute Potential Health Effects:

Skin: Causes skin irritation.

Eyes: Exposure to vapor or mist will cause eye irritation.

Inhalation: Inhalation of vapor or mist may be irritating to mucous membranes and upper respiratory tract.

May affect behavior/central nervous system. Symptoms may include somnolence, tremor.

May also affect respiratory system (dyspnea), and metabolism

Ingestion: May cause gastrointestinal tract irritation.

The toxicological properties of this substance have not been fully investigated.

 

Nice, no?

 

No.

 

Want to see all the additives currently approved? Click here to review the TTB’s website.

 

There is also taste. Do you know what Mega Purple is? It’s concentrate, essentially. Cheap grape concentrate. Sold for about $135/gallon, and added to so many wines it’d make your head spin to see them all. Not enough color in your wine? Mega Purple can fix that. Not enough body? Mega Purple can fix that too. Don’t like the final texture? Mega Purple it. Need some sweetness? Mega Purple again. Oops, bit of Brett get in there? Mega Purple can mask that. Mega Purple: You can put that s*$t on everything.

 

Dan Berger contributed a great article on the use of Mega Purple in Wines & Vines magazine; you can read it here.

 

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The first wines were made—or, better said, made themselves—some 8000 years ago between the Caspian and Black Seas in the area that today includes eastern Turkey, northern Iran, Georgia, and Armenia. We can surmise that early hunter-gatherers picked wild grapes. Occasionally, instead of eating them, they may have crushed them for juice and perhaps forgotten them for a week or two. Attracted to the sugar, bees and wasps would have carried yeasts to grapes already broken on the vine by birds or wind; those yeasts fermented the juice. When tasted, it had been transformed—as if by magic or a divine hand—from simple, sweet fruit into something affecting the senses in surprising and enjoyable ways. In the Christian ritual of Communion, this natural transformation became a symbol for wine as the blood of Christ.

 

Thus begins a new essay from Ridge Vineyards entitled “What’s In  A Wine?”. It’s heady stuff at first glance, but upon closer inspection, it’s real, it’s direct, and it’s now. Consider a Ridge Vineyards label:

 

ingred1

 

It’s right there at the letter C. “Yeasts brought to broken, mature berries by bees and wasps.” Just like before Jesus.

 

But consider all the letters:

 

A-D are pretty straightforward; not a great deal being done by us in the way of invasion or manipulation. Cutting each cluster by hand? Well, short of waiting for the cluster to fall off of its own volition, that’s about as minimalist as is possible if your intention is to produce wine. Farming practices that protect environment, workers, and community? Well, that certainly involves some proactivity, and verdicts on the methods are certainly subjective. For Ridge, we define sustainability like this:

 

A system that is sensitive to the environment, responsible to the community, and economically feasible to implement and maintain. These three principles provide a framework and direction to guide our decision-making. Sustainability is an ever-changing target, even a state of mind: improvements can always be made to lessen one’s impact on the planet.

 

Integrated pest management. Beneficial crop cover. Organic farming. Sap Flow Monitoring.

 

These are just a few examples. For more, please click here.

 

C we already discussed. D is pretty much the same. What’s needed is already there. We rely on that, and nothing more. But E is an addition, this is true. How invasive is it? Go back to that TTB list of approved additives. Notice anything? Calcium Carbonate is one of very few items without a restriction associated with it. Why? Because it’s harmless. It’s basically Alka-Seltzer for wine. Settles the acid a bit.

 

And then we come to F. This is the big one. This is the Firestarter. S02. If there is a line that separates “Natural Wine” from whatever ostensibly isn’t, it’s probably drawn in S02.

 

The matter of S02 is probably one of the most misunderstood issues in the contemporary world of wine, and truth be told, I’m not going even come close to solving the mysteries here. What I am hopefully going to do is clarify the language of F.

 

Smallest S02 addition needed to maintain vineyard character.

 

What does that mean? Or, more specifically perhaps, how much is smallest, and how does that maintain character?

 

Thomas Ulrich wrote a tremendous article in Wines & Vines recently (January 2013), entitled “Going Native, Very Carefully.” In it, Ridge Vineyards winemaker Eric Baugher details with astonishing specificity our winemaking processes, and in particular, our handling of S02. To the question of how much, there is this:

“The winery team adds 30-35 ppm of SO2 to the must (at crush) to select for native Saccharomyces and limit the growth of bacteria that could spoil malolactic fermentation.”

 

—and this—

 

“To reduce the risk of oxidizing or spoiling the wine, the winery team adds small amounts of SO2 before crush, immediately following the completion of malolactic fermentation and during each quarterly racking thereafter. According to Baugher, a small dose of sulfur dioxide is 5-10 ppm. For him, the amount of SO2 depends on pH and residual sugar-aldehyde formation produced by any in-barrel springtime fermentation.”

 

To get at some of the technical detail above, I direct you to an excellent article by Shea A.J. Comfort; you can find it here. In the meantime, to get to the real nitty-gritty, the important thing to know is this: ppm stands for parts-per-million. Parts-per-million. Meaning, 30-35 ppm is … not much. Numerous sources will confirm that the total SO2 allowed in wine in the US is 350 ppm, and in the EU it is 160 ppm (for red wines). So again, 30-35ppm is … not so much.

 

So why add it at all? This is where the “maintain vineyard character” part comes in. Paul Draper spoke to the issue in an excellent interview posted on Alice Feiring’s site “The Feiring Line.” Consider the following, excerpted from said interview:

 

The difference of opinion over natural wine often occurs over the use of SO2. Of course we have the problem that EU regulations allow an addition of 10ppm and US regulations allow 0ppm addition for “organic” wine. That problem is really beside the point as an addition of 10ppm in virtually every case is insufficient to keep the natural process on the proverbial straight and narrow in order that the wine will consistently express the distinct character and quality of its site. Of course that presupposes that the site is sufficiently good terroir to provide that character and quality in the first place. My experience of growing fine wine and of tasting wines made with 0ppm to 10ppm is that unless the minimum effective level of SO2 is used the wines will not consistently express terroir. Given that, that expression or the attempt at that expression is essential to what I love about wine, we carefully analyze the wine to determine that effective minimum level.

 

If I can offer a translation of sorts, I believe the gist to be this: At Ridge, we add just enough S02 to PREVENT anything changing the flavor of the juice, as opposed to adding S02 specifically TO change the flavor of the juice.

 

And that is the A to F of a Ridge label.

 

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We provide other resources as well. Consider a “typical” wine page on our website, say, for the newly-released 2011 Ridge Vineyards Geyserville (the wine whose label we analyzed above). Scroll down the page, and you’ll find this:

 

Winemaking

 

All estate-grown grapes, hand harvested. Destemmed and crushed. Fermented on the native yeasts, followed by full malolactic on the naturally-occurring bacteria. 16.9mg/ liter calcium carbonate added to ten small fermentors to moderate acidity; minimum effective sulfur (30 ppm at crush; 92 ppm over the course of aging). Pad filtered at bottling. In keeping with our philosophy of minimal intervention, this is the sum of our actions.

 

That’s it.

 

~

 

We have considered health and safety. We have addressed taste. We have discussed terroir and vineyard character. There is also a bit of the activist behind it all. In a recent e-mail, Ridge winemaker Eric Baugher wrote the following, as regards additives and ingredient labeling:

 

We feel, by listing our ingredients, we can bring the issue into the consciousness of consumers.  Not that we want to make enemies in the industry, or attack any wineries for what they might add to their wines, we are looking to consumers to become more knowledgeable about these additives and practices by volunteering this information on our labels.  If they begin to make their purchasing decisions based on the level of purity of the wines they drink, then it possibly could have an effect on making those wineries think twice before they add something.

 

And in a letter Paul Draper recently penned on the matter, he wrote:

 

We refer to winemaking at Ridge as “pre-industrial” – an approach that involves the use of native yeasts, hand-harvested, sustainably grown grapes, naturally occurring malolactic bacteria, and a small number of natural ingredients used in making fine wine over the last two hundred years. We are hoping to encourage other fine-wine makers to provide a list of ingredients for their customers.

 

For more on Paul Draper and the concept of Pre-Industrial Winemaking, please click here, but for the purposes of this post, I hope the following definition will suffice:

 

Pre-industrial winemaking begins with respect for the natural process that transforms fresh grapes into wine, and the 19th-Century model of minimum intervention. When you have great vineyards that produce high quality grapes of distinctive individual character, this is not only an environmentally and socially responsible approach, it’s also the best way to consistently make fine wine.

 

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The point is, in the end, it’s for you. We want your wine to be healthy and safe. We want it to taste good. We want it to be unique. And we want it to be honest. We want you to know the pro, and the tool.

We want the wine to be symbolic, and we want it to be transformative.

We want it to be Son House and a National; Basho and seventeen syllables; Rothko and red.; Kerouac and an Underwood; Anonymous Four and Hildegard Von Bingen; Monk and a piano; Tenshō Shūbun and ink.

 

~

Most of all, we want our wine, to be your wine.

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The17SyllablesOfWine 

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Before the white chrysanthemum

the scissors hesitate

a moment.

 

(Yosa Buson, translated by Robert Hass)

Ladies & Gentlemen, the 2013 Wine Blog Awards Are Coming! Let the Nominations begin!

March 25, 2013

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For myself, as someone who writes nearly daily about wine, this is an exciting time of year, a season of awareness for wine-inspired prose.

It is a time to redouble efforts to experience the great diversity of voices on offer, to luxuriate in the excitement of the new, and to remember the pleasures of the legendary.

It is a time of discovery for me, a time in which I find, just when I thought I knew a little something about wine & the culture of wine, that in fact there are worlds upon worlds upon layers upon worlds of which I am still unaware.

And it is a time of reconnect, in which I return to some of my original heroes in the field, and remind myself once again why they’re so good, and why they have been so influential to me.

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And to be honest, it is a time of friendship, something I never envisioned or expected when I began writing this blog. Back in April of 2009, I had no idea what I was doing, or where I was going. (Which is possibly still the case!) Yet here I am in 2013, proud and happy to note that some of my great friends are … wine bloggers! I am happy to say that I have truly gotten to KNOW a great many of these writers — some virtually, many in “real life” — and the annual Wine Bloggers Conference has become, amongst other things, a rare and special opportunity to see again familiar folks whose company I truly enjoy.

But most of all, this is an opportunity to celebrate achievement.

So if you would, please join me in the nominations process, and take a moment to acknowledge those whose passion for all things wine, all things cultural, all things artisanal, serves to ignite you in your own life, chimes the Zen Awareness Slap inside the halls of your own temple, reminds you again and again and again that wine is our Liquid of Ritual, and that nothing less than memorable will suffice.

Nominate one of these writers. Nominate many of these writers. Nominate many of these writers for multiple awards. It may be a small gesture on your part, but it would mean an awful lot to a great many wonderful people.

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Beauty Is A Rare Thing: Building the 2012 Monte Bello

February 22, 2013

I was early, by intention. I wanted to absorb the air, the space, the mojo.

Ghosts of Shamans past — silken-shadowed, proud and twirling — wove the naked canes with threads of dripping gossamer.

In my car, the metal murmuring beneath me.

The music came on. Ornette Coleman.

Frantic, frenetic, almost borderline atonal. Strange against the hazy blues and grays weighting down the coming sun.

Then the track changed. Beauty Is A Rare Thing. The long, lone, keening wail of saxophone, the prophesizing rumble of the toms, the gravitas of bass drops, all the spaces in-between the lonesome spaces.

Beauty Is A Rare Thing.

I drove towards the crest of the mountain; to the exalted limestone histories, to the winery, to the ghosts of Shamans present, past, and future.

I am constantly amazed by the ways landscape is destiny.

Dawn behind the valley of the fog. Dawn beyond the yawning of the crush pad. Dawnlight just beginning with the One Tree Hill …

MB_OneTreeHill

We turn away to face the cold, enduring chill
As the day begs the night for mercy love

 ~

Almost reassuring to me now — the pathway through, and to, the holy Monte Bello belly — this, my moment, this, my third Assemblage year.

MB_EnteringTheBarrelRoom

Through the darkness, through the lightness, through the barrels …

…to the crystal choreography of history in the waiting …

MB_Glassware

This is Assemblage.

~

One-hundred-thirty acres, give or take. Acreage that begins some thousand feet above the valley, then stretches towards the heavens for another thousand more, and more than several hundred feet on after that.

Bramble stream, white rocks jutting out.
Heaven cold, red leaves scarce. No rain

 up here where the mountain road ends,
sky stains robes empty kingfisher-blue.

Harvest began on the tenth morn of September, and concluded on the sixteenth of October; the day the cabernet grapes on the knoll bid farewell to the gnarled arms of their lowly-slung progenitors.

Two-hundred-eighty-tons of grapes picked off the mountain, whittled patiently down to only twenty-eight blocks, and then down again to twelve lots after that. Twelve lots to make up our control.

MB_EricPours

And so the rounds begin.

MB_TwoGlasses

I.

Two glasses before you. In one glass, the control. Twelve lots worth of juice from off the mountain. In the other, the addition. One lot worth of hope of making history. Which is which, you do not know, and so you taste. And smell, and taste, and taste again, and smell again, and look, and think, and smell, and taste, and contemplate, and contemplate. In the nose, on the lips, on the tongue, down the throat, drip by drop, strained through teeth, rolled on tongues, swished and spat, and left to linger, and the pen is in your fingers, and the pen is on the page, and it goes scratching ‘cross the page …

MB_Moleskine

… you dig for words, and lay on words, and search for metaphor and simile; descriptor, adverb, poetry. The clock maw gapes in rhythm, all the Tell-Tale Hearts at table — disparate rhythms harmonizing — beat the pounding of the wine-blood in your ears. There’s no more time left, no more wine left, on the left page is Glass A and on the right page is Glass B; which gets your minus, which your plus? You finally choose, your secret vote, it’s done, it’s done, you did it, there, it’s done, you made your vote, the tasting notes — like pagan chants — begin to be read out, aloud; first the first chair at the table …

MB_AtTheTable_TheTasters

Nine at the table. No tie possible. The first round is as close as close can get, four to five, five to four; the B Glass takes the lion’s share of votes, by a note, but the winemakers both come out for A. Lift the veil, it’s the addition! The addition in Glass A, the winemakers’ final say, on and through, to Round Two, and thirteen lots now. The addition is the Cabernet from blocks that we call Fosters, at the south end of the old Torre boundaries.

MB_Paul

Paul says Glass A just seems racier.

II.

A tenth taster joins, raises the threat of a tie, but as the voting is revealed, it’s six to four. Glass A is the addition once again, and earns the passage once again, but this time on the strength of a majority. And what was added? It’s a co-fermented block of Cabernets: Sauvignon and Franc, from South Twin Peaks and Upper Gate, north of the winery, on the old Perrone ground.

MB_Perrone

I am with the As, and Eric Baugher says this wine will be a hundred-year wine, and the talk turns to juniper, to jazz, to anthocyanin …

III.

At fourteen lots, the roadblocks block the road, and the control cannot be shaken; seven-two, the final tally, and Will Thomas says Glass A shows as “broad-shouldered” …

MB_Will&Paul

IV.

Still fourteen lots as we begin, and when the round ends, we will still be at fourteen; a seven-two vote once again. In the last round it was Eric in minority, and this time it is Paul, but all let commonwealth prevail, and the majority prevails, and the control survives yet another challenge.

Paul voted “no” because the wine was just “too perfect,” just “too lovely” … and Kyle Theriot is the first to speak of velvet …

MB_Kyle

V.

Another close vote — five to four — but an addition has emerged; South Slope North! La Cuesta clone, maybe an acre, in the ground in ‘eighty-eight, at 6.33%, a small addition, but addition it will be, it makes the cut, takes the control to fifteen lots. I was on the wrong side of this vote, of Paul and Eric, and of Will, who said the wine, this time, was “tall, but not broad-shouldered” …

VI.

MB_AtTableTasting

Four to five, the vote this time, coming out for the control, but then there’s Paul with his plus on the addition. I’m with Paul, as is Shinji, as is Karen; I wrote “elegant and playful,” Paul says that he likes the “power and the elegance” … It’s Merlot, from Le Vasseur, from the high side of the old Torre vineyards.

VII.

The seventh round, and the control is sixteen lots. Sixteen lots, and what do you get? One more addition doth the final round beget! A 3.6% addition, Cabernet from Circle Hill, and we have made it up the hill …

Fish don’t fry in the kitchen;
Beans don’t burn on the grill.
Took a whole lotta tryin’,
Just to get up that hill.
Now we’re up in the big leagues,
Gettin’ our turn at bat.
As long as we live, it’s you and me baby,
There ain’t nothin wrong with that.

~

And now, 2012 is in the big leagues, and we’re going to see if it can holds its own, in the last round of the day, in the vertical display, cinq Monte Bello in a line, the ’11, ’10, and ’09, and the ’08, that magic vintage, liquid music, holy water, magic birth year of my daughter, making five tall and broad-shouldered wines …

MB_5

~

This is it, The First Assemblage. To be tested, and tried again, to be sure, but for today, the testing done, seventeen lots safe and sound, a Monte Bello for the ages.

The statistics:

MB_Eric

55% Cabernet Sauvignon
26 % Merlot
11% Cabernet Franc
8% Petit Verdot

Were it to stand, we’d be looking at some four-thousand cases …

~

As in years past, as I emerge from the barrel room brume, from the effluvium of grape and  mystic poetry, I am weary.

In the company of pirates, monks, spelunkers, I’ve been searching, with my brothers and my sisters I’ve been searching, with the mendicants and beggars, I’ve been searching, at the altars, in the gutters, I’ve been searching.

Oh Ornette, your hymn, a horn
with a halo ‘round the reed
Oh, Beauty Is A Rare Thing indeed.

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The players:

Will Thomas, Viticulturist, Lytton Springs

Kyle Theriot, Viticulturist, Monte Bello

Shun Ishikubo, Assistant Winemaker, Monte Bello

Shini Kurokawa, Production Assistant, Monte Bello

Heidi Nigen (Round II), Marketing Manager

Christopher Watkins, myself

Amy Monroe, Hospitality Coordinator, Monte Bello

Karen Leeds, Director of Quality Control/Chemist, Monte Bello

Eric Baugher, VP of Winemaking, Monte Bello

Paul Draper

To you all, deep bows.

~

MB_NotesI_B&W 

Attributions for excerpts and quotes above, in order of appearance:

Ornette Coleman (the song “Beauty Is A Rare Thing”)

Ron Rash (from an interview with the author on NPR)

U2 (from the song “One Tree Hill,” lyrics by Bono, music by U2)

Wang Wei (from the poem “In The Mountains,” translated by David Hinton)

Ja’net Dubois and Jeff Berry (from the song “Movin’ On Up,” theme song for the TV Show “The Jeffersons”)

~

MB_NotesII_B&W

For essays on previous Assemblage Tastings, please follow the links below:

2011

2010

~

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Pondering Podcasts: Jameson Fink, Wine Without Worry, Fiddle Faddle, and more …

February 6, 2013

Wine Without Worry – Ridge Vineyards: The Bottled Poetry of California’s Santa Cruz Mountains

Napa Valley may be the first place that comes to mind when you think of California wine, but there is no place like the Santa Cruz Mountains. That’s where you’ll find Ridge Vineyards, and one of the world’s most legendary wines: Monte Bello. Christopher Watkins, Manager of Retail Sales and Hospitality as well as the Author and Host of 4488: A Ridge Blog, discusses how the people and the place all combine to make bottled poetry. Speaking of poetry, Watkins has also published a book of his verse. You’ll find his unique perspective on art and language to be the perfect guide for this journey.

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How do you feel about podcasts? Do you listen to them? Are you a subscriber, or a casual drop-in? Do you follow just one, or many?

I’m pondering podcasts.

Somewhere in the past decade –decade-and-a-half maybe– the vitriol around wine took on a new and bizarre ardor. “Wine Snobbism”  seemed to have become a truly terrible personality affliction, and its alleged purveyors, practitioners, and carriers were earmarked for a stunning panoply of recriminations.

I have voiced opinions on this, and matters related, in a previous post (available here), so won’t redraw the argument again, but suffice it to say, the tangible backlash to the perceived pervasiveness of the purportedly rampant snobbism took on new intensity, whelping dizzying iterations of professedly antidotal solutions: Wine For Morons,Wine For Those Who Can’t Read, Wine For The Cheap, The Dolt’s Guide To Wine, The Gauche Grape, and other such condescending fare.

Fortunately, into this fray comes Jameson Fink, one of the most level-headed hosts ever to grace the educational stage.

May I present the following “mission statement,” the text of which comes from the description for Jameson’s new and excellent podcast series Wine Without Worry:

Does a leather-bound wine list send an icy chill up your spine? Does walking through a wine store feel like navigating a sinister labyrinth? Put aside your anxiety and join Jameson Fink on Wine Without Worry as he serves up a flight of experts to demystify wine. It’s a relaxed look at wine, with helpful tips and insight to bring your confidence level up, and keep the wine flowing.

Do you know why I like this? Because it acknowledges that one might be intimidated, but it does not condescend. It is clear, straightforward, and honest. It is kind.

Which is pretty much Jameson in a nutshell.

But add one more word: professional.

Jameson Fink is a pro.

In my life, for myriad and whatever reasons, it turns out that I have been interviewed many, many times, about many, many things. And interviews are tricky. At best, they are often perfunctory. At worst, they can be awkwardness and torture and misery and frustration and embarrassment and tedium and awfulness. But every once in a while, they’re not only enjoyable, but actually interesting, informative, and refreshing.

Such was the case when Jameson Fink interviewed me for his Wine Without Worry podcast. Jameson is intelligent, and he does his homework. He is quick on his verbal feet, and he runs deep with content. He is clever, and he knew well ahead the full scope of what he wanted to cover. He is funny and snarky in equal measure, but long on respect and devoid of hollow irony. In short, he was a consummate host, and an excellent interviewer.

For the answer to an 18-letter wine destination, a fully unexpected Fiddle Faddle reference, and a rich look into all things Ridge, Wine, and The Santa Cruz Mountains, I heartily encourage you to check out the following episode of Wine Without Worry, hosted by Jameson Fink, and humbly featuring yours truly:

Wine Without Worry – Ridge Vineyards: The Bottled Poetry of California’s Santa Cruz Mountains

Napa Valley may be the first place that comes to mind when you think of California wine, but there is no place like the Santa Cruz Mountains. That’s where you’ll find Ridge Vineyards, and one of the world’s most legendary wines: Monte Bello. Christopher Watkins, Manager of Retail Sales and Hospitality as well as the Author and Host of 4488: A Ridge Blog, discusses how the people and the place all combine to make bottled poetry. Speaking of poetry, Watkins has also published a book of his verse. You’ll find his unique perspective on art and language to be the perfect guide for this journey.

“One Word Tasting Note Rock, Paper, Scissors” + “7-vintage Estate Cabernet Vertical” = “Monday Funday!”

January 31, 2013

Oh Susanna!
Don’t you cry for me,
cuz I’m goin to Monte Bello
with Estate Cab on my knee …

And by Susanna, of course, I mean Susanna Hoffs; she, of The Bangles, who formerly noted that, as opposed to Monday, Sunday was in fact her Funday.

SusannaHoffs

Not so I.

Monday is my Funday.

At least this most recent one was.

This Monday most recent, we had cause to open, pour, and taste a SEVEN-VINTAGE-VERTICAL of Ridge Vineyards Estate Cabernet: 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, and the not-yet-released 2010.

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To be honest, this may have been one of the best tastings I’ve ever been involved with; these wines just tasted extraordinary!

So, “standard” tasting notes were simply not going to cut it. This was too special, too powerful, too spiritual.

Thus, “One Word Tasting Note Rock, Paper, Scissors!”

How does it work?

You partner up with another taster, and you taste a wine together. And together, you become as the Haiku artist becomes:

“He is like a tuning fork placed before a vibrating one of the same frequency. When he contemplates the impassionate, living object he immediately realizes its quality just as the sound from the tuning forks will become audible. He is in a state of aesthetic resonation, a harmonized whole of all the meaningful experiences he has had, brought to bear upon the moment of aesthetic contemplation.” — Kenneth Yasuda, “Japanese Haiku: Its Essential Nature and History”

And then you count to three, a la Rock, Paper, Scissors.

And then you give voice to your one-word tasting note; your audibilized vibration, your harmonized whole.

And then, with time, you may seek common threads in the spontaneous vibrations of your respective tuning forks.

I was with my colleague Sam Howles-Banerji.

01CSC1.ai

We began with the 2004 Estate Cabernet.

1, 2, 3:

Soulful
Mushroom

Commonalities? Obvious! Just two other ways of sayin’ Funky!

funk·y

2 /ˈfʌŋki/ Show Spelled [fuhng-kee] Show IPA

adjective, funk·i·er, funk·i·est.

1.

Jazz. having an earthy, blues-based quality or character.
 

funky 1 (ˈfʌŋkɪ)

— adj , funkier , funkiest

1.

(of music) passionate, soulful; of or pertaining to funk

2.

authentic; earthy

3.

stylish and exciting; cool: funky jeans

05XSC1-L

Next up, the 2005 Estate Cabernet.

1, 2, 3:

Incantatory
Terrier

Common Themes: Incessant, Devotional, Hypnotic

06XSC0-L

2006 Estate Cabernet

1, 2, 3:

Horse & Buggy
Velvet Mineral

The thread? Contrast; the rusticity of horse-drawn old-fashionedness amidst a fresh, new spring day – velvet & mineral

07cse_front_hires

2007 Estate Cabernet

1, 2, 3:

Country
Biker

Common Theme: The wild open spaces! Freedom! Limitless possibilitiy amidst boundless beauty! An internal code of honor, a rhythm and law all its own.

08cseLOfront

2008 Estate Cabernet

1, 2, 3:

Carnival
Punk Rock

Commonalities? Condensed, concentrated, intense; distillation of raw passion; decadence and excitement

09CES1-frontS

2009 Estate Cabernet

1, 2, 3:

Racy
Largesse

Thematic unity? Expressive and generous sensuality

10CRE1-front

2010 Estate Cabernet

1, 2, 3:

Pistachio Ice Cream on the beach
Sunset

Ok, that first one is hardly one word, but the commonalities here are really quite fascinating … That two wine tasters, upon tasting a specific wine at the indentical time, should then each, interdependently of the other, audibilize the idyll … aesthetic resonation indeed.

And that, my friends, is One Word Tasting Note Rock, Paper, Scissors.

And that, my friends, is our 7-vintage Estate Cabernet Vertical.

And that, my friends, is a Funday.

Donn Reisen, John Coltrane, Wang Wei, and the Kindredity of Wine

December 30, 2012

Very early on in my tenure at Ridge Vineyards, I made the decision to play only The Jazz in the Monte Bello Tasting Room.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, this decision was noted and noticed by a notably wider circle than just the one comprised of my colleagues in the tasting room. Of particular note, it was most decidedly noticed by the man who was not only my boss, but also the then-president of the company, Donn Reisen.

donn

Donn Reisen

It was a gift of innocence, I suppose, that had largely left me unworried about bothering Donn up to that point. Of course I’d heard a rumor or two; how he’d once harshly berated a staffer for inappropriate application of a flashlight during decantation of a library Monte Bello, for example.

Yet still I blundered on unawares, too green to worry, too naïve to be afraid.

And then along came Donn.

One afternoon, there he came, strolling in, in that shambolically purposeful yet hobo-esque way of his, right into the middle of the empty mid-day tasting room, as I was wiping down counters and re-arranging menus, and listening to The Jazz.

He ambled in, paused at the very center of the rug that was in the very center of the room, and cocked his head towards a corner of the room where there was perched a small speaker. And he listened. Listened as Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme” streamed through the pulsing mesh of the small black screen.

John Coltrane

John Coltrane

And after a miniature eternity, he then turned to me and said, “I think the saxophone is the most expressive of instruments; the most like the human voice. It’s beautiful.” And then he walked out.

That was over four years ago, but I still feel the mojo of that moment as if it were yesterday.

Not the moment of Donn approving of the music.

The moment of Donn feeling that music, recognizing in it something that connected directly to his own humanity

There is something so potent about this sort of recognition, this moment of cognizance that something outside of oneself somehow not only speaks to oneself, but is oneself.

There is a poem in “Short Houses With Wide Porches” that attempts to speak to a version of this …

VI.

Early morning, and like a driving range

before the golf-ball-skimming-truck

has made its first pass

over the previous day’s late drives,

the broad, multi-shaded green

of sea is dotted with white dots;

birds: pelicans, egrets, gulls, sanderlings—

but it’s the dolphin arc

from ripples well inside the buoy line

that sets my body trembling;

an excitement that bespeaks

our shared lineage, the ancient

mammalian rite of recognition;

kindredity.

Kindredity. A made-up word, of course, but one whose meaning, is, I believe, a clear one.

Kindredity: A state of feeling kindred to something else; related by descent, associated by origin.

This was, I believe, Donn’s state while listening to “A Love Supreme” in that moment.

And I wonder now, as I ponder on this all, if that isn’t in fact what draws us to wine itself in the first place?

Is it somehow true that the wines we love the most are the ones we somehow find ourselves in? The ones which induce this state of kindredity?

It is more than a mirror, more than wishful thinking. It is not so easy as “I think I’m bold and strong, and so I like a bold and strong wine” or “I’m sensitive and complex and I prefer my wines the same.”

And it is more than mutual attraction, more than compatible idiosyncrasy. It is not so easy as “You’re mysterious and I’m attracted to mystery” or “You’re powerful and I’m submissive.”

If the poem’s narrator and the poem’s dolphin are somehow united in “the ancient mammalian rite of recognition,” what is the modifier of rite when the same sentence becomes about wine? When a taster and a wine are somehow ritually united, what describes the rite?

What is our kindredity with wine?

I wish I could ask Donn now what I didn’t know then. But alas, I cannot. He is gone.

What I can do, is turn to the great Chinese poet Wang Wei …

Dear stone, little platter alongside cascading streamwater,
willow branches are sweeping across my winecup again.

And if you say spring wind explains nothing, tell me why,
when it scatters blossoms away, it blows them here to me?

WangWei_SnowyStream

Snowy Stream, by Wang Wei

(The poem above — “Playfully Written on a Flat Stone” — was translated by David Hinton, and can be found in his book “The Selected Poems of Wang Wei”)

for more about David Hinton’s unsurpassedly excellent translations, please click here:
http://www.davidhinton.net/index.html

and for more about Donn Reisen:
http://blog.ridgewine.com/2012/01/26/by-donns-early-light/

Something Special To Celebrate This New Year’s Eve: The Emancipation Proclamation

December 29, 2012

I spent a great many years as a professional songwriter and musician, and have now been in the wine business for a fair amount of years as well. And in both lives, New Year’s Eve looms large.

For a musician, the night is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, you HAVE to gig. It’s the best pay of the year. You can often make in a single night what you’d make in a month otherwise. But on the other hand, it’s the worst gig of the year; everyone is loaded, and behaving like … well, you get the idea.

For those of us in the drinks business, the New Year’s Eve conversations tend to all be about … well, drinking.

What to drink, where to drink, when to drink, with whom to drink, how much to drink, etc.

There also tends to be the requisite reconciliations of lament and hope, regret and redoublement, burial and birth, farewell and hello, the old and the new.

Truth be told, we’ve been raising cups of kindness for auld lang syne since long before even ol’ Robert Burns penned his immortal verses.

All of which is alright, I suppose, to a point.

But if you’re interested in tapping a different wellspring of celebration this New Year’s Eve, you might consider the Emancipation Proclamation, and Watch Night.

January 1st, 2013, will mark the 150th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation’s issuance, making this New Year’s Eve the 150th anniversary of a Watch Night like no other.

Watch Night itself technically predates that deeply anticipatory eve back in 1892; it ostensibly began in 1740, inaugurated by the Reverend John Wesley — founder of the Methodist Church — as a spiritual alternative to the holiday debauchment already so de rigueur.

But the night took on a far deeper significance in 1862, when Black Americans in all corners of the young and tortured country waited through the night for news that they were going to be free.

By the President of the United States of America:

A Proclamation.

Whereas, on the twenty-second day of September, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-two, a proclamation was issued by the President of the United States, containing, among other things, the following, to wit:

“That on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free …

No, the Emancicpation Proclamation did not officially end slavery. The 13th Amendment did that in 1865. But what it did do was clearly tell a brutally suppressed, oppressed, and enslaved people that their country believed in their freedom, and would see it realized.

So this New Year’s Eve, among the many toasts you raise, you might wish to include one to freedom.

And then one to the spirits of those brave enough and noble enough and kind enough and courageous enough and humane enough and true enough and pure enough and deep enough and real enough to recognize that we are all one, and that no system of governance should exist in immoral defiance of this truth.

And then raise one to the better angels within yourself; that you too might enact this truth in every moment of your life.

We are all one.

To read the full Emancipation Proclamation, please click here:

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4h1549t.html

514_pg01

December 17th

December 13, 2012

Greetings all,

Just a quick and practical letter to everyone; while I concede I am prone to the occasional bout of long-windedness on this blog, I do pride myself on at least occasionally offering a somewhat more concretized and tangible set of benefits to the reader, and this is one such occasion in which I wish to drop some solid and practical science:

To wit, and for your reference, if you wish to send Ridge wines to anyone for the holidays, it is important that you place your order by December 17th (at least, if you wish your gift to arrive by the 25th, for that Xmas sort of feeling …).

holiday-delivery-01

Now, the 17th of December, while selected in this incidence essentially for logistical reasons, actually has some tangentially interesting relevance as regards wine and its myriad worlds.

For example, it was on this date back in 1777 that France officially recognized The United States of America. An event they may or may not have come to regret. (See: Phylloxera and The Judgment of Paris!).

1976: The Judgment of Paris

1976: The Judgment of Paris

Going a bit farther back into the weaving mists of time, it is worth noting that December 17th also marks the passing from this mortal realm of the very great mystical poet Rumi, for whom wine was a deep and powerful symbol greatly weighted with spiritual significance.

Rumi

Rumi

Drink the wine that moves you
as a camel moves when it’s been untied,
and is just ambling about.

December 17th was also the very first performance of Franz Schubert’s masterwork “Unfinished Symphony”; the very same Franz Schubert who famously, somewhat morbidly, and arguably unknowingly, toasted his own impending death with a glass of wine in the hours just after Beethoven’s funeral; a funeral at which he was a torchbearer!

UnfinishedSymphony_Schubert

from “Unfinished Symphony” by Franz Schubert

December 17th was also the date, back in 2010, that we lost the inimitable Captain Beefheart, eulogized on this blog here:

http://blog.ridgewine.com/2010/12/18/goodbye-mr-beefheart/

And December 17th is also, of course, Saturnalia; a wine holiday if ever there was one! Bacchus, and all that …

And lastly, December 17th was the date, back in 1989, that the first full-length episode of The Simpsons aired on US television, introducing so many of us to one Homer Simpson, who, famously or infamously (depending), both forgot how to drive after taking a home-winemaking course, and drank his yearly salary in a single bottle unceremoniously extracted from the cellars of one Mr. Burns!

The point being, is that December 17th really shouldn’t be too hard a date to remember.

December 17th.

Remember.

The Geometry of Oenophilism: Why Our Imaginations Matter, & Why Wine Matters

November 24, 2012

I was listening to the radio today — NPR, if you must know — and a sports report came on.

As you may or may not know, sports coverage on NPR can be slightly different than perhaps other iterations of the form. As but one example, one of the main NPR Sports correspondents opens and closes his program not with something from Black Sabbath, Motley Crue, or Guns n’ Roses, but with the following rather fine slab of athleto-centric gospel from Sister Wynona Carr:

Life is a ballgame

Bein’ played each day

Life is a ballgame

Everybody can play

Jesus is standin’ at home plate

Waitin’ for you there

Life is a ballgame,

But you’ve got to play it fair.

 

Amen Sister Wynona, amen!

Anyhow, as I was saying, sports coverage on NPR can be a tad different at times, and this morning’s effort was no exception. The correspondent on this morning’s program was discussing the impending arrival of Rutgers and Maryland to the halls of the Big Ten, and was in fact rather bemoaning the circumstance. In fact, he described the situation a tad starkly, in that he referred to it as being symptomatic of “a big money grab.”

Which is an altogether cynical stance, it seems to me, to say the least.

Which is really neither here nor there, as far as I’m concerned. What interested me far more was what he next said, which was essentially that, if sports matter at all, it’s because they matter in our imaginations, and accordingly, anything enacted that disabuses our imaginations of their passions cannot be a good thing.

Meaning, essentially, that overt and transparent displays of commercialism and profiteering in college sports are deeply disappointing, because they rather harshly puncture the elevated zeppelins of our imaginative lives.

So, to reiterate, he said that sports matter in our imaginations.

And mind you, he did not say this cynically!

Which accordingly makes his statement, then, a rather extraordinary statement; one clearly in defense of — nay, in praise of! — our imaginations.

Because what he actually said was, in effect, that our imaginations matter.

Which is exactly why wine matters.

Wine matters in our imaginations, and our imaginations matter, thus, wine matters.

This is the geometry of oenophilism. Wine matters in our imaginations, and our imaginations matter, thus, wine matters.

You see, seen from the cynical side, it’s actually just fermented grape juice, right? Just another alcoholic beverage? Isn’t it just another product, sold at a profit, in just another store, to just another consumer?

Isn’t it?

Or is it?

Ask the father who bought Monte Bello from his daughter’s birth year. Ask the sister and brother who return to Monte Bello every year to toast the anniversary of their mother’s passing with a bottle of Estate Chardonnay. Ask the new fiancé why he proposed over a glass of Geyserville. Ask Thomas Keller why, if it was his last meal on earth, he’d want it served with Lytton Springs.

Thomas Keller

Ask your imagination.

Things I’m Thankful For …

November 22, 2012

I am an admittedly idiosyncratic traditionalist, in that I am rarely much for traditional traditions, but am conversely rather boffo for my own rather less-than-traditional iterations thereof; which makes it all the more of a personal revolution in the offing that I am posting these words today.

This is, of course, the rambling preambling to the preamble of my annual “Things I’m Thankful For” post; which I traditionally, per the terms of my own tradition, post on the 23rd of November. Which I was dead on track for doing again this year. Except here it is, Thanksgiving, and I’m feeling all thankful-laden, and it simply feels odd not to commit these lines to the blog-o-web on this most gratitudinous of days. Yet it’s the 22nd, a proposition that defies convention. But blast it all, tradition be damned, what? On with the show! Pip Pip!

When I ponder the word Thankful, I see my wife’s face. As I do when I ponder the other following words:

Fortunate, Blessed, and Grateful.

These are of course self-referential. When I simply ponder her, as opposed to how I feel when I consider the blessing upon me that is she, these then are some of the words that come to mind:

Wise, Beautiful, Magical, Powerful, Amazing, Fragile, Astounding, Tender, Perfect, and Love.

I am so thankful for my wife. My friend, my lover, my partner, my wife. I am so thankful for my wife. One can define the almighty in whatever ways one wishes, of course; but if the definition of God has something to do with that which gives life to life, that which governs all, that foundational being that is the alpha and omega of all things, then she has dominion over all my world. She is the Bodhisattva come to help me, the Savior come to save me, the God come to raise me. I am so thankful for my wife.

And I am so thankful for my daughter, before whom I am a positively helpless puddle of mush. What hasn’t this small, beautiful creature given to me? There is no shade of blue in the sky, no streak of green in the sea, that she has not alerted me to. No whisper of wind in the night, no chirp of bird in the day, that she has not called my ears toward. There is no tear duct in my eye she has not drained of its feeling, no cavity of my heart that she has not filled. What hue of autumn leaf, what scent of springtime blossom, has she not drawn me to? What a thing, to have a daughter! I am so thankful for my daughter.

For my wife, and my daughter, I am so thankful. A Love Supreme.

Which reminds me that I am also distinctly grateful for John Coltrane.

And wine glass sizes drawn in fractions. Like 19.75 oz. glasses.

And the wines that inhabit them.

Like, perhaps, the 1981 Monte Bello, which tasted so fine just this past Sunday.

Which would also taste so fine in, for example, a flat-bottom glass.

I am so thankful for people who drink red wine from flat-bottom glasses.

And grandparents. There is no insanity like the insanity of grandparents. That my little family of three – Papa Bear, Mama Bear, Baby Bear – has two hearty and hale sets of grandparents, is a blessing beyond compare. To watch our little girl in their blissful company is a gift unimaginable. I am so thankful for our parents; grandparents to our wonderful daughter. I am so thankful for this.

As I am for the knoll at Monte Bello. Such a place to stand and contemplate the void, to be temporarily one with the ancestors staring at the walls and seeing truth.

I am thankful for poetry, and the wines that have, through time, lubricated its fragile and complex gears.

Like, for example, the 2004 Buchignani Ranch Zinfandel, which tasted so fine just … yesterday.

There are few moments greater than the moment when your father and your wife bring to their respective lips the wine you have poured for them. I am thankful for these moments.

I am thankful for Haiku.

I am thankful for people who do not ask me to throw away their chewing gum upon their arrival at the Monte Bello Tasting Room.

In fact, I am thankful for people who do not chew gum.

I am thankful for wooden canes, and limping through vine rows relying on one.

I am thankful for Amy Monroe, Sam Howles-Banerji, and Kirsten Anderson. If you’ve ever come to Monte Bello, and accordingly felt a bit of magic enter your soul and there take up permanent residence, there to be called upon whenever your worry and care threaten to overwhelm you in the pursuit of your conventional happinesses, it is likely because you were moved by Amy and/or Sam and/or Kirsten. They are in the practice of providing memories that will last forever, and they are rather excellent at this endeavor. They have given me so much to be thankful for, and are to me canonical saints in the pantheon of Monte Bello magic.

I am thankful for the word canonical.

And the word Vertical. And the thing that is, in winespeak, a Vertical.

And the Estate Cabernet Vertical, which will not be available for much longer. I am thankful it is still available, because the 2004 Estate Cabernet, is, in particular, one of the best wines I’ve ever had. It was also one of my first loves upon joining the family at Ridge, and in it, I taste my good fortune.

I am thankful for P.G. Wodehouse, for having given to the world Jeeves and Bertie Wooster, of whose exploits with the cow-creamer, last night, were so delightful to read.

I am thankful that I do not believe in decent-tasting “entry-level” wines costing $10/bottle, any more than I believe in decent-sounding “entry-level” Telecasters costing $100.

I am thankful for windows that lock and unlock with ease.

I am thankful for wines that taste especially fine whilst standing at windows gazing out at trees in autumn. Like the 1992 Monte Bello, which, out of a 375ml bottle, tastes especially fine whilst standing at a window (open or closed, whatever, it’s easy to lock and unlock) gazing out at a tree in autumn.

I am thankful for candles.

I am thankful for bow-ties, which, perhaps come the New Year, I shall resolve to wear more of.

I am thankful for champys, and the people who use the term.

And for the people who drink champys.

I am thankful for champys.

And Bodhisattvas.

I am thankful that Ridge has found a place in its heart to place me.

I am thankful that, in lieu of a manpurse, I wear sportcoats.

I am thankful for everyone who comes to Monte Bello in the summertime, and doesn’t comment of the fact that I am wearing a sportcoat.

I am thankful for Aaron, Antonio, Barry, Emma, Jane, Jenny, Karen, Kathryn, Kim, Lori, Michael, Nancy, Peter, Samantha, Sonja, and Tara. Because Hospitality is holy, and they are the true keepers of the faith. The foundational saints. The canonical hosts. To truly “host” a guest is an essential act of love, compassion, empathy, sympathy, faith, and kindness. I am thankful for these wonderful human beings, and for the generosity of spirit they so consistently offer.

I am thankful for the XTC song “Dear God.”

I am thankful that the new 2008 Mazzoni Home Ranch is such an absolutely excellent contribution to the Mazzoni canon.

I am thankful for high-quality buff cloths, and the wine hosts that know how to use them.

I am thankful for ritual, and what it teaches us, and I am thankful that the world of wine is so ritualized.

I am thankful for people who, when confronted by those who know a bit more than themselves about something, think first, “Wonderful!” as opposed to “Snob!”

I am thankful that I know so little, because I look so forward to learning.

I am thankful that a great deal of my “work” at Ridge is “learning” more about wine.

Learning more about, for example, the 2007 Monte Bello. For reasons soon to be revealed!

I am thankful for things that are soon to be revealed, as I do not enjoy surprises or secrets, though I am thankful for them. Thankful that they offer the opportunity for revelation.

I am thankful for Son House.

I am thankful for anyone who can figure out a way to work wine into a tattoo without looking like a rather foolish sort.

I am thankful for Syrah co-fermented with Viognier.

I am thankful that part of my “job” at Ridge involves sitting at table with people like Kathy and Ingrid, and “working” on food & wine pairings.

I am thankful that I very often have occasion, while at work at Ridge, to deploy the term “culinarily companionable.”

I am thankful that I get to write this blog. Not only is it a still-very-overwhelming honor, but it also allows me to make up a great many words; a great many made-up words that, when discovered and subsequently called out as being made-up, become the springboard for me to deliver my patented lecture on the true value of language and its purposes. Which no one needs to hear anymore.

I am thankful.

I am thankful for trumpet mutes, and the jazz players who deploy them.

I am thankful that Ridge makes wine like Thelonious Monk made chords.

I am thankful that Sumano’s bakery makes Watsonville Sourdough.

I am thankful for drinking wine, eating bread and cheese, and riding ferries.

I am thankful that Bellwether Farms makes San Andreas. And I am thankful for being able to taste it while sipping on 1978 Monte Bello.

I am thankful for harvest videos, and the opportunity to make them.

I am thankful for #Harvest2012.

I am thankful that I do not dream in hashtags.

I am thankful that if one Googles “Generation X Characteristics,” the very first entry that appears lists the following:

• Cynical

• Skeptical

• Independent

• Problem-solvers/resourceful

• Defy Authority

• Reality driven

• Distaste “touchy feely”

• Technology Competent

• Resist Hierarchy

• Multitasker

I am thankful that I still manage to rarely use the word “Google” as a verb.

I am thankful for walking cities.

I feel thankful when I go walking in a city, and the person I am walking with says, “My, that looks like a nice wine shop!”

I am thankful for Christopher Robin, Winnie the Pooh, and all the denizens of the Hundred-Acre Wood.

I am thankful for the poet Sharon Olds, because she writes about woman things in ways that can truly move a man.

I am thankful that as soon as we were installed in our little post-birth “hotel” at the hospital, my very exhausted and triumphantly beautiful wife called for Cava and Monte Bello.

I am thankful that when my wife calls for champys, she calls for Coupe glasses.

I am thankful for coupe glasses.

I am thankful for trains.

I am thankful for movies made before 1970.

I am thankful for music made before 1980.

I am thankful for wine made before 1990.

I am thankful for balsamic vinegar made before 2000.

I am thankful for books made before 2010.

I am thankful for wonderful exceptions to the above.

I am thankful for wine poured before I wrote “I am thankful for wine poured …,” like, for example, any of our Syrah/Grenache blends.

I am currently thankful for the 2008 Ridge Vineyards Lytton Estate Syrah/Grenache, and I am previously grateful for all the other vintages.

I am thankful that my daughter just announced that her Grandpa “stinks like Thanksgiving.”

I am thankful that some people still roller skate.

I am thankful for limousine drivers that do not park in spaces reserved for the disabled.

I am thankful for wine drinkers that are not drunkards.

I am thankful that calm, clear-headed, self-possessed, serious, alert, concerned, cool, exacting, rigorous, thoughtful, vigilant, and pure are all synonyms for “sober.”

I am thankful that, while it’s today in the news that it’s going to happen, Nikki Sixx’s “Heroin Diaries” is not yet, in fact, a Broadway Musical.

I am thankful that, for the fourth year in a row, I have the opportunity to praise Haig’s Hummus. I am thankful for Haig’s Hummus. And I am thankful for the way Haig’s Hummus tastes when it’s in your mouth, wrapped up in a big balloon-size swallow of Ridge chardonnay.

I am thankful for Ridge Chardonnay. Especially the 2010 Monte Bello Chardonnay, which, when released, will F%*&KIN blow your mind.

I am thankful for %*&.

I am thankful that we have a President who likes wine.

I am thankful for Zen.

I am thankful for the Monterey Bay, and how it makes Carignane taste. Especially Ridge Carignane. Which always tastes so nice, but tastes especially nice when sipped next to Monterey Bay.

I am thankful for John Olney, and I am thankful for the Carignane that he makes.

I am thankful for everyone at Lytton Springs, and for the opportunity to make this appreciation public. I am especially thankful for my counterpart Sandy Johnson, because her greatness humbles me daily, and it is good to be humbled. And I am thankful for her friendship, because it is good to have friends. And I am thankful for her colleagues that I get to, albeit infrequently, work with, namely Jason and Eliot. I wish I got to see them more, because I am always thankful for the opportunity. And it’s good to be thankful.

I am thankful that I rarely see myself in the mirror making air quotes.

I am thankful for Paul Draper, Eric Baugher, John Olney, David Gates, Kyle Theriot, Will Thomas, Shun Ishikubo, and Muiris Griffin, for the absurdity of how much they’ve taught me, and how patient they’ve been with me.

I am thankful for when Petit Verdot gets ripe. Because if swampy and funky can become fragrant and floral, then beauty is forever possible.

I am thankful for every moment there is not violence.

I am thankful for funny instructions on fading paper, push-pinned to dirty corkboard, that say things like, “If  you see a mountain lion, don’t bend over,” because who bends over when they see a mountain lion? And I am thankful that this is based on a true story.

I am thankful for true stories. And made up ones as well.

I am thankful for the opportunity to read poems that were written by people who were drinking wine while they were writing.

I am thankful to Ryan Moore, because he is my boss, and he seems to kind of like me. Which really feels good.

And I am thankful that the fates and powers that blessed Ryan with a wonderful wife have now blessed him with a beautiful, wonderful child, because I am very happy for him, and it’s good to be happy for other people.

I am also happy for myself, and am thankful that I have been blessed with a wonderful wife and a beautiful, wonderful child.

I am thankful that the obvious similarities between myself and my boss obviously continue.

I am thankful for the days when my boss calls and says things like, “Have you tasted the 2007 Dynamite Hill recently?” And I say, “No.” And he says, “Can you pull a bottle and taste it, and tell me what you think?” And I say, “Yes, boss.”

I am thankful for, in no particular order: Love, and the Lack of Hate.

Also for Charlie Christian, Sonny Rollins, Bud Powell, Lester Young, Bill Evans, Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington, Django Reinhardt, Miles Davis, Wes Montgomery, Zoot Sims, and Grant Green.

I am thankful that Duke Ellington is the Monte Bello of Jazz, and that Monte Bello is the Duke Ellington of Wine.

I am thankful for what localism teaches us about being peaceful with one another.

I am thankful that wine from our estates makes people feel peaceful.

I am thankful for peace.

I am thankful.

I am thankful for the certainty that this list will never end, and that, when confronted with all the wonderful things I’ve inadvertently omitted from this iteration of this list, I will have another opportunity at some future time to make amends.

I am thankful for ancient Mountains-and-Rivers Poetry.

I am thankful that I work on a mountain.

I am thankful to Ridge, for forever altering my life in momentous ways I could have never imagined, for, above all else, affording me the means to support my family.

I am thankful to Ridge for trusting me to speak for Ridge.

I am thankful for Merlot.

I am thankful for pine cones.

I am thankful for rattlesnakes, and the ones that don’t bite me.

I am thankful to Penske, for renting me the truck that carried me from New York to California, for helping to prove in yet one more way that Northern California is indeed the promised land, for stopping when I needed it to stop, at that truck stop where I first got on the phone with Nicole and inaugurated the process that would eventually culminate in my being hired by Ridge, and for starting again when it was time to start driving again to California.

I am thankful for my parents. And your parents.

I am thankful for anyone who buys a fine bottle of wine for their parents.

I am thankful for parents who buy Monte Bello from the birth year of their children.

I am thankful for the poetry of Dylan Thomas.

I am thankful for every moment, in every corner of the world, in which someone eats a slice of pizza, then takes a rather healthy swallow of really good wine.

I will never admit it to her, but in truth, I am thankful that my wife did not allow me to name our daughter “Pizza” as I wanted to, because even though this would guarantee I would spend my life saying, “I love you, Pizza” over and over, it wouldn’t have in fact been particularly fair to our daughter, and if there’s one thing that being a parent teaches you, it’s that love means someone else.

I am thankful for pizza.

I am thankful for pizza and wine.

I am thankful for, not Chivas Regal in a $5 room (as Tom Waits had it), but pizza and a $400 Monte Bello.

I am thankful for art, and those who mean to make it.

I am thankful.

I am thankful.

I am thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good day.

I am thankful you read this.

I am thankful for that which you feel thankful for.

I feel thankful for you, whoever you are.

I feel thankful.

I am thankful.

Thank you.


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