R.H. Drexel’s Top 50 Wines of 2022

Time flies, as the saying goes, but can we just collectively admit that 2022 flew by quicker than most other years? At the top of 2022, I recall writing out silly Valentine’s Day cards for friends and ordering seeds for the coming spring. Then, I blinked, and it was suddenly the autumn and pumpkins started to appear on front porches around our neighborhood.

The consensus seems to be that life as we know it changed around the time the first lockdown started. Flash-forward nearly three years and I’m even more confused than I was then. Even though I rarely check the news cycle, have sworn off social media, and am slowly (albeit begrudgingly) weaning myself off the Housewives franchise, modern life is still a source of sometimes profound anxiety. Alas, at least we have wine, a resplendent beverage that softens the harsh edges of this world. Taken in the genteel company of friends, a better repast is hard to imagine.

This year brought great opportunities to discover new wines and revisit old enological friends. It was also the year to dip one’s toes back into the socializing waters. I did this with conviction in 2022, attending numerous wine events and countless trade tastings. A retrospective tasting of the first decade of Kimsey estate wines, from Santa Barbara County’s Ballard Canyon, proved breathtaking, as did the other wines of winemaker Matt Dees (Jonata, The Hilt, Kimsey, Mail Road), whose The Hilt Chardonnay clocked in as my wine of the year. I had it at the estate and will admit it was an emotional experience. It’s an absolutely riveting expression of California Chardonnay.

Here’s to another vintage nearly under the belt.

50. 2020 Pomelo, Sauvignon Blanc, CA

Fresh-cut Honeydew melon. Lemon zest. Lake County. $14.00

49. 2020 Bico Amarelo, Vinho Verde, Esporao, PT

Oyster shells. Sea Salt. Sunshine. $12.00

48. 2021 Grounded by Josh Phelps, Sauvignon Blanc, CA

Lime zest. Asian pear. Coastal breezes. $14.00

47. NV William Chris, Wanderer Series: Relief Project III, TX

Juicy. Rustic. Satisfying. $40.00

46. 2021 Nowadays, Alicante Bouche, Santa Barbara, CA

Brightly dark. Acidity. Freshness. $30.00

45. 2020 Left Foot Charley, Skin-Fermented Pinot Gris, Old Mission Peninsula, MI

Pretty oddity. Fragrant. Memorable. $28.00

44. 2021 Foris Dry Gewurtraminer, Estate, Rogue Valley, OR

Sunflower. Lifted. Fun. $17.00

43. 2017 Crocker Starr Blancs de Noir, Napa Valley, CA

Classic. Underrated. Elegant. $64.00

42. 2020 Gundlach Bundschu Zinfandel, Agua Caliente, Sonoma Valley, CA

Profound. Restrained. Pleasing. $53.00

41. 2021 Edio Grenache, Del Fino Farms Vineyard, El Dorado, CA

Alive. Mountain perfume. Precise. $40.00

40. 2021 Maitre de Chai, Kierkegaard Chenin Blanc, Clarksburg, CA

Thoughtful. Solitude. Lift. $28.00

39. 2019 Keep Wines, Albarino, Lost Slough Vineyard, Sacramento River Delta, CA

Refreshing. Oceanic. Siren’s call. $28.00

38. 2020 Story of Soil, Syrah, Duvarita Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills, CA

Coastal. Balanced. Sharp, brisk chaparral. $55.00

37. 2020 Anthill Farms, Mixed Blacks, Peugh Vineyard, Sonoma Valley, CA

Unbridled. Spirited. Food-appropriate. $45.00

36. 2019 Radio Coteau, Syrah, Las Colinas, Sonoma Coast, CA

Raven beauty. Full moon. Focused. $55.00

35. 2019 Round Pond, Cabernet Sauvignon, Estate, Napa Valley, CA

Over-performing. Lovely. Geraniums in the sun. $80.00

34. 2019 James Cole, Mud’s Kitchen, Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley, CA

Rich. Emblematic. Delicious. $185.00

33. 2021 Caduceus, Nagual del Marzo Rose, Cornville, AZ

Unpredictable. Nuanced. Age-worthy. $40.00

32. 2017 Domaine de Rochville, La Favorite, Cremant de Loire, Loire, FR

Dancing. Romantic. Bubbles. $20.00

31. 2020 Alma Rosa, Syrah, El Jabali Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills, CA

Blood from a stone. Cool climate. Dreamy. $68.00

30. 2019 Lindquist Family, Sonnie’s Syrah, Sawyer Lindquist Vineyard, Edna Valley, CA

Biodynamic. Stars in the night sky. Cool autumn morning. $75.00

29. 2021 stars & dust, Crowded Table Rose, Santa Ynez Valley, CA

Kaleidoscopic. Bright jewel. Quaffable. $28.00

28. 2019 La Marea, Grenache, Central Coast

Vivid. Flowers and wind. Length. $30.00

27. 2019 Big Basin, Old Vine Carignan, Wirz Vineyard, Cienega Valley, CA

Mountain limestone. Sky through the canopy. Crunchy loveliness. $36.00

26. 2019 Boeger Winery, Rosa Cannina Zinfandel, El Dorado, CA

Mysterious. Alpine. Lineage.

25. 2021 Little Frances, Chenin Blanc, Clarksburg, CA

Ageworthy. Unexpected. Artful. $48.00

24. 2019 Seabold, Grenache Blanc, Mission Ranch Vineyard, Monterey County, CA

Spicy. River rocks. Sunlight on a stream. $40.00

23. 2021 Alta Colina, Carbonic Grenache, Paso Robles, CA

Unstoppable. Celebratory. Wildflowers at the Carrizo Plain. $38.00

21. 2021 Lorenza, Picpoul Blanc, Lodi, CA

Game for anything. White linens in the sun. Oysters in Tamales Bay. $28.00

20. 2019 Carboy, Blanc LaLaLa, Grand Valley, CO

Party in waiting. Sunset behind the mountains. Vetiver. $29.00

19. 2019 Aridus, Graciano, Wilcox Bench, AZ

Heady. Warm blueberry compote. Powerful. $46.00

18. 2020 Matthiasson, Cabernet Franc, Estate, Napa Valley

Chinon-inspired. Beguiling. Transformative. $59.00

17. 2020 Ruth Lewandowski Wines, Chilion Skin-Contact Cortese, Mendocino, CA

Colorful. Skipping through a meadow. Aromatically compelling. $35.00

16. 2019 Kimsey, White, Ballard Canyon, Santa Barbara, CA

Rhone-inspired beauty. Apricot. Spanish poppies in the sunlight. $60.00

15. 2019 Mount Abora, Koggelbos Chenin Blanc, Bot River, South Africa

Campari recollections. Breezy. Effortless. $ 10.00

14. 2020 Brewer-Clifton, Chardonnay, Machado Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills, CA

Cerebral. Pacific. Saline breezes.

13. 2019 Peake Ranch, Syrah, John Sebastiano Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills, CA

Cornas-inspired. Graphite. Heart of the rose. $75.00

12. 2019 Andrew Murray Vineyards, Syrah, Watch Hill Vineyard, Santa Barbara, CA

Purple flowers. Petrichor. Moonlight. $55.00

11. 2020 Hubba Wines, Dreamland, Central Coast, CA

Palate music. Confident. Pleasurable. $50.00

10. 2019 Force Majeure, Syrah, Red Mountain, WA

Iron rich. Nuanced. Depth of character. $120.00

9. 2019 Calera, Mt. Harlan, Pinot Noir, Ryan Vineyard, Cienega Valley, CA

Lithe. Luminous. Floral. $85.00

8. 2019 Haliotide, Extra Brut Rose, Topotero Vineyard, San Luis Obispo. CA

Unmistakable. Regal. Tangerine dream. $75.00

7. 2019 Madrona, Gewurtraminer, Hillside, El Dorado, CA

Lightly toasted brioche. Cold snap. Casual. $18.00

6. 2019 Matt Morris, Charbono, Shypoke Vineyard, Napa Valley, CA

Interstellar. Misty orange grove at dawn. Obsidian. $85.00

5. 2019 Paula Kornell, Blanc de Noirs, Napa Valley, CA

Meyer lemon zest. Hazlenuts. Misty beach stroll. $50.00

4. 2018 Villa Creek, Rocks and Flowers, Paso Robles, CA

City streets after a rain. Bing Cherry. Backyard plum. $46.00

3. 2021 Rose of St. Vincent, Storm Cellars, Paonia, CO

Orange blossom. Rose petals. Cracked stones.

2. 2019 Cru de Clos, Clos de Sequoya Pinot Noir, Sonoma County, CA

Redwood bark. Violets. Dark cherries. $350.00

1. 2019 The Hilt Estate, Chardonnay, Sta. Rita Hills, CA

Sea spray. Cold night in Yosemite. Kumquat. $50.00

Rock of (Vint)Ages

“If music be the food of love, play on.” 

William Shakespeare

In 1982, I attended my first music concert. Rick Springfield at the Concord Pavilion in Northern California. My sister’s friend had gotten us some tickets. I was listening to other stuff at 17. More rock and punk, but I liked Springfield’s song, “Jessie’s Girl.” Being in that crowd, on a warm summer night, taking sips of cheap beer out of plastic cups on the sly…well, that was it. I was hooked. From then on, seeing live music – whether at a small jazz club, a large stadium concert or a music festival – became a regular and even necessary part of my life. 

Concerts, when they go well – and most of them do – present opportunities for communion with other humans in ways that other public events don’t. Churches provide communion for some, but everyone in attendance believes in the same entity. An element of tension or surprise is lacking. At sporting events, there are normally two sides, and while those are fun, it’s a different kind of interaction. More competitive. But at secular concerts, people come together knowing very little about each other. They may believe in different gods of different colors. Some have more money than others. Some are conservative, some are liberal. But for a time, none of those things matter. Everyone in attendance is looking for a good time. A little relief. An opportunity to hear great music and cut loose. For me personally, there’s no better way I can think of to connect with other members of our species. We may not even talk to each other, but we’ll feel comfortable enough among a sea of strangers to dance, sway, sing, close our eyes. So captivated and present are we that we fear no judgements. 

Now in its eighth year, BottleRock, the high-profile wine country music festival, descended upon the Napa Valley this past Memorial Day weekend. My wife and I attended, and we began getting excited as we neared the fairgrounds where the three-day festival is held. 

Streets nearby are cordoned off and only pedestrians and colorfully decorated pedicabs can get through places like Juarez Street. Lined with hawkers selling wrist bands and knock-off merchandise, Juarez – and other streets nearby – are where you can fill up on cheap snacks. Tacos Al Pastor for two bucks a piece. Hotdogs for a buck fifty. Ice cold bottles of water, their labels left behind floating in melted ice water, run you a buck on the street. There is cannabis for sale everywhere and even outdoor areas where you can grab a cold beer and a pre-roll from different vendors set up just feet from each other. 

A food vendor on Juarez Street

Because I had a media pass, we are able to enter fairly quickly. Lines are otherwise long but move at a fast clip. 

The vibe at BottleRock is different from other music festivals. The same electric energy hangs in the air; there’s the same crush of excited bodies; groups of friends hanging out and walking together, laughing and having fun while discussing which stages to hit and when. At BottleRock, though, you can do all of that while eating food from some of Napa Valley’s best restaurants, including Morimoto Napa, Press Restaurant, the Michelin-starred La Toque, Boon Fly Café (where the fried chicken is so good it’s a wonder it’s legal) and many other restaurants. Craft cocktails and beers are plentiful, as are the finest wines the valley has to offer. Everything comes at a steep price, but the quality of the concessions is top notch. 

Winemakers (from left to right) Jeff Smith of Hourglass, Eric Jensen of Booker, Juan Mercado of Riise, and Benoit Touquette of Realm

BottleRock / Day One 

As a media guest, I get access to various VIP experiences, but in order to enter the swanky VIP suites, I need an invitation from a suite host. This year, I receive an invitation from Realm Cellars in the Napa Valley, and I’m glad I go. It’s a great way to experience BottleRock. Guests get access to great wines served at the right temperature…about 60 degrees at the warmest. All beverages are served in plastic cups for safety reasons, but the plastic cups at the Realm suite are shaped similarly to Govino glasses and showcase the wines well. Gourmet pizzas from Oenotri and other foods are also available. The spirit is chill, friendly. There are kids running around. 

Luis Gonzalez of Bettinelli Vineyards, with wife Minerva and sons Julian, Nicolas and Luciano

They say never meet your heroes. That’s yet another adage I find problematic. If your heroes are made of flesh and blood and imperfect like the rest of us, then I say go for it. Some of them may be unpleasant, disappointing. My own personal experiences have been largely positive. Meeting someone you admire and discovering they’re kind and fun to hang out with can be super-inspiring. Enter Michel Rolland. 


When it comes to wine, I’m a texture freak. For me, that’s the element that completes a wine, and Michel Rolland is a master when it comes to helping achieve great texture in wine. He’s also virtuosic at blending. I’m chatting with Realm owner Scott Becker when the world-renowned consultant arrives at the suite. I can’t help but show my fangirl side. He’s been a hero of mine in the wine space for many years, but until now I’ve never been able to meet him. “We were blending the 2021 vintage with him just last week,” Becker tells me. “We worked on various iterations of The Absurd and he added just a touch of Petite Verdot at the end that totally transformed the wine…it came across as more complete, no edges, no missing spots…just complete. Michel has a gift, and we are grateful he chooses to use it every so often with us.” 

Before I know it, I’m sitting across from Rolland, and we’re joined by Becker and Realm Winemaker and co-owner Benoit Touquette. Rolland is open, polite, friendly. He makes little jokes. Occasionally there’s a lull in the conversation, and we listen to Spoon playing a tight, energetic set. 

Chatting with Michel Rolland and the owners of Realm

Touquette is joined by his wife, Nikita, and they show me photos of their baby, Roman. They’re just now introducing him to “solids, textures and smells,” Nikita says. They’re  eager to take him to small town parades, like the one held on fourth of July in Calistoga each year, and their favorite activity as a family is taking evening walks together in the golden hour.

Touquette and I somehow end up talking about Charbono, and he excitedly tells me about Realm’s heritage clones project, which is currently underway. In his charming French accent, he says “We always felt like we need to leave something behind that could help support what the earlier generation have done, like Robert Mondavi… We have started the process not with Bordeaux varietals or Cabernet Sauvignon, but with Charbono from Toffanelli Vineyard in Calistoga and Petite Syrah from Hayne in Saint Helena. We felt that those fruit were having a unique expression, and we wanted to populate those two varietals in our vineyards. The process would take years as it is quite intensive, but we have started thanks to UC Davis and their Foundation Plant Services, so we would expect to be able to plant those two varietals in our estate in Stag Leap District in two years. Honoring the past, we will of course go head train and dry farm.” Admittedly, this is all geeky stuff, but I’m nerdy when it comes to wine, so I’m into it. 

By the time Greta Van Fleet comes on stage, we’re all rocking out, including Rolland, who is now on his feet. We are collectively transfixed by lead singer Josh Kiszka, who appears to be channeling the spirit of Freddie Mercury – if not in voice then in showmanship and magnetic intensity. At the end of their brilliant set, as the sun is setting, Kiszka throws white flowers into the audience, their petals glinting in the fading light. With a final, glamourous gesture, he flings his tambourine into a sea of eager hands. When Metallica comes on next, anyone who wasn’t on their feet is now, and Rolland is nearly impish with delight. 

Music is the great equalizer. 

Greta Van Fleet

BottleRock / Day Two

My wife and I see some great music throughout the second day, including a rousing set by the unstoppable Black Crowes. At 55, lead singer Chris Robinson is defiant, his voice on-point, his hips limber, gesticulating. We sip on cold champagne during their set and the mood is simultaneously luxurious and rough-and-tumble. 

The Black Crowes’ Chris Robinson

But all day I’m counting down the hours for the Mount Westmore show. There’s nowhere I would rather be than among the crowd at this show. No VIP passes or special treatment necessary, thank you very much. We’re good where we’re at. 

A thick cloud of cannabis floats in the air. People of all ages and color are in the large crowd. When Snoop Dogg, E-40, Ice Cube and Too Short arrive on stage, each with their own throne, flanked by strippers and two large stripper poles, the energy in the crowd is pulsating. It’s fun, dangerous, inclusive and suspicious all at once, and the crowd cannot get enough of it. My wife is indulging me by attending; it’s not really her kind of music, but even she gets swept away by the call-and-response engagement between Mount Westmore and the crowd. It gives her chills. 

Mount Westmore

On our long walk back to our car, we have a robust discussion about the women on the stage. My wife feels they’re being exploited. I disagree, and counter that not only are they consenting, but they’re also empowered. It’s theatrical, after all. But she’s not having it and we agree to disagree. It’s thrilling to find new things to debate when you’ve been married to someone for 18 years. We feel young again. 

BottleRock / Day Three

We have big plans for the third day. We arrive early and have made a pact going in that we won’t tap out until after The Wailers featuring Julian Marley perform at 8:30 p.m. The day goes swimmingly, and we have fun checking out vendor booths and people-watching between sets. Michael Franti and Spearhead deliver an uplifting show, and when he brings children on at the end of their set, to dance and sing, it’s hard not to get choked up watching them up on the jumbo screen – at this time, during this news cycle – carefree and all smiles, as children ought to be.

Then kismet happens and our plans change. I request a media escort to take us to the VIP lounge to watch an acoustic set by Amos Lee (media members aren’t allowed in the VIP village without an escort). Lee has opened for Bob Dylan, John Prine, Merle Haggard, Paul Simon, Van Morrison and some of my other favorites. In the Azores Islands, where I’m from, if a fado singer is conveying a truly uncommon, soulful performance, we say, “O fado aconteceu.” It means that “fado”, and all that musical form embodies, has happened, in its truest form. When Lee performs “Arms of a Woman,” the spirit of Philly-born soul happens in that tent.

During his brief set, Lee casually jokes that everyone is really there to see the next act up. That’s when my wife and I realize The Wailers featuring Julian Marley will be performing shortly inside the VIP lounge. At six in the evening, they walk out on the same small stage, emanating a halcyon, centered vibe. The singer I want to see most this whole weekend – Julian Marley – is suddenly just feet away, singing Lion in the Morning, his countenance sweet and loving. My throat tightens. My wife and I sway along with the crowd. Someone speaking too loudly near the front is shushed by the audience. Our communal respect for Marley and the Wailers, and Marley’s father, and everything that that family legacy embodies, is palpable. It's a moment I soon realize cannot be topped. So after that balm of a set, my wife and I slowly exit the festival grounds, foregoing the final headliners for a light dinner. We walk to Hog Island Oyster Company inside the nearby Oxbow Market and manage to get a table, as they’re planning to shut down the kitchen soon for the evening. We eat cold raw oysters on the half shell and wash them down with albarino as the sun sets. We talk about the music we’ve seen and the people we’ve just met. 

The Wailers featuring Julian Marley inside the VIP lounge

For an experience like we had with the Wailers featuring Julian Marley and other headliners, VIP wristbands are $398.00 per person, per day. That’s about $1,200 a person, which sounds like a lot, but if you’re a big music fan, and you can save up for it, it’s worth it. You’ll want to set aside some extra money for food. Accommodations near festival grounds are expensive, especially over Memorial Day weekend. We were lucky enough to stay with family. VIP Suites are $27,000 a day for 30 people; that’s about $900 a day per person if you buy a suite with 29 friends. Regular admission ticket prices run about $179 per person, per day.









Wines that Touch the Sky: The Alpine Terroir of El Dorado

By RH Drexel

One of the great pleasures of pursuing wine as a hobby is that there’s always something new to explore. As is the case with most classic art forms – painting, music, photography, theatre, literature – it’s nearly impossible to become an exhaustive expert in any of these fields, and so boredom seldom comes knocking.

Though I’ve been a wine enthusiast for over three decades, I am just now discovering the wines of California’s El Dorado wine country. One hour west of Lake Tahoe, and one hour east of the state’s capital, Sacramento, this alpine region’s highest-elevation vineyard sits at 3,500 feet. It is this elevation that distinguishes the El Dorado AVA from other regions in the greater Sierra Foothills appellation. With mountain vineyards ranging from 1,200 to 3,500 feet elevation, the best wines in the region highlight a bracing, natural acidity – a bright, tart Conifer sensibility, with numerous wines, both white and red, exhibiting a pine-like freshness in the aromatics.

The first vineyards in El Dorado were planted in 1849, just one year after gold was discovered in Coloma, a small town at the edges of this untamed growing region. The region’s 70 wineries enjoy diverse soils offering a variety of geologic and geographic influences that impact the grapes with deeply concentrated flavors. Most of the vineyards in El Dorado are planted in young volcanic, granitic, and slate soils.  These soils are thin and lack a permanent water table, the lack of which allows winegrowers to apply appropriate water deficits to limit vegetal growth and encourage the development of smaller berries, higher color concentration, and higher skin-to-juice ratios.

The beating heart of this diverse, decentralized region is the township of Placerville, where visitors to the region typically stay. It’s an off-beat little town, anchored by the 150-year-old, wonderfully and eccentrically stocked Placerville Hardware Store. The rest of the town’s modest, yet long-ish Main Street includes a few dive bars, some antique shops, a small boutique for aspiring Wiccans, live music venues, galleries, an emporium for survivalists, a pretty well-stocked marijuana dispensary and some great bakeries and cafes. 

Where to Stay: 

El Dorado is best suited to adventurous travelers who don’t necessarily need luxurious accommodations to enjoy their stay, though those are certainly available.  Still, it’s a region that seems uniquely attractive to the van life culture, the Airbnb wanderer and the outdoorswoman and man. Though there is an inexpensive Best Western Plus in Placerville ($160.00 a night), the most popular accommodations in this region are its ample and campgrounds. The Madrone Tree Hill Resort is a Christmas tree farm that doubles as a well-maintained campground, with campsite and cabin rentals available. The Camp at Coloma offers guests many options, from luxurious Airstreams with Wi-Fi, on-site dining services and hot showers, to RV hook-ups, well-appointed, pet-friendly cabins and more traditional campsites. Travelers looking for something higher end yet still whimsical need look no further than the Hermosa House Bud and Breakfast. Cannabis and canine friendly, this two-story inn offers a sunny environment rich in art and culture. Guests may enjoy High Tea service at 4:20 p.m., during which cannabis-infused teas are served. There’s also yoga and meditation on offer, as well as a peaceful outdoor garden. 

Where to go wine tasting:

Starfield Vineyards

Founded by naturalist, owner and winemaker Tom Sinton, Starfield Vineyards is a stunning way to start an El Dorado wine excursion. Nature lovers will be enchanted by the nearly 67 acres of hillside vineyards, shaded by ponderosa pines and surrounded by groves of azaleas, rhododendrons, hydrangeas, dogwoods, aspen, maples, and scarlet oaks, not to mention the nearly 10,000 flowers and ornamental shrubs found throughout the estate. 

Starfield’s beautifully made wines are balanced, light-on-their-feet and equally light on extraction. A stimulating collection of well-made, intentional wines is presented alongside a thoughtful culinary program. Food lovers will want to experience Chef Yutaro’s pairing menu. Formerly the Sous Chef at Santa Monica’s 2-star Michelin restaurant Melisse, and San Francisco’s 3-star Michelin restaurant Benu, Chef Yutaro oversees a decidedly progressive Prix Fixe menu, with modern takes on Salad Lyonnaise and Winter Golabki, which, when paired with the 2019 Starfield Mourvèdre, is a delicious revelation. 

Edio Vineyards at Delfino Farms

The Delfino Family has been farming in El Dorado since 1964. Third generation siblings Christine, Peter and Derek Delfino, all graduates of Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, oversee daily operations. Young and charming, the siblings are a talented bunch, with Peter heading up winemaking while Derek handles farming. Christine oversees marketing and hospitality. A well-oiled machine, the Edio team manages a multi-faceted business model, producing an elegant lineup of wines that possess varietal character and great acidity – a hard cider called Henrietta Stitch that is a real keeper, and a bakery on site producing delicious pastries. Their 2019 Edio Estate Grenache appeals to my adoration of this variety’s lighter, more elegantly finessed nature. 

Madroña Vineyards

I love Riesling. It’s hard to find a great American one, though. At least that’s been my experience. Fortunately, there are producers like Ravines, in upstate New York, making wonderful Rieslings, but I long for that faint hint of petrol amid so much freshness and aromatic energy idiomatic of German Rieslings. So, I certainly didn’t expect to find world-class Riesling in El Dorado, of all places. But Madroña winemaker and owner Paul Bush is making some of the most refined and exemplary Rieslings I’ve tasted outside of Germany. When I tasted his 2007 Estate Riesling, still a baby, I immediately wished I could pour it blind for contemporary Riesling educator of note, Robert Dentice. This estate is too far under the radar for the level of wines they’re producing, and at varying price points to boot; even the entry-level Riesling, at about $26.00 a bottle, is a great, delicious buy. Bush is also gifted at translating Grenache and Malbec, two of my other favorites from this producer. A place to check out if you’re an adventurous wine geek. 


Element 79

Named for the 79th element on the periodic table – gold – Element 79 Vineyards is in the Fair Play sub-appellation of El Dorado. Owners Sharon and Les Heinsen offer an approachable, friendly hospitality experience that includes a few food and wine pairing options. A standout wine from Element 79 is their Abby’s Rose of Syrah, Zinfandel and Viognier. Made by winemaker Scott Johnson, it’s a rose grown and made with intention, and it shows. The Heinsens, both born and raised into farming families in North Dakota, are focused on producing wines that go well with food, as they’re apt to entertain often. I dined with them one night, as friends from around the appellation came and went through their front door with ease and good humor. Most were either established or home winemakers, but, unlike dinner parties in other winemaking regions where shop talk dominates at the dinner table, the Heinsens and their neighbors mostly chatted about music, grandkids, and life in general. Refreshing. 

Miraflores

Miraflores was founded in 1998 by Dr. Victor Alvarez, who grew up on his family’s dairy in Columbia, South America. He wisely brought on winemaker Marco Capelli early in the winery’s evolution. Capelli, an uber-talented winemaker from the Napa Valley who studied under the legendary André Tchelistcheff, introduced a range of balanced, elegant wines to the area early on. Since that time, Capelli has mentored the estate’s current winemaker, Fernando Abarca, who grew up in Morelos, Mexico, where he studied at the Zacatepec Institute of Technology. Soft-spoken and intelligent, Abarca is confident when he presents his wines, which include a compelling Estate Syrah, for which Miraflores is perhaps best known. And yet I found myself gravitating towards their after-dinner wines, although I typically steer clear of these types of offerings from domestic wineries. I often find them too cloying and largely uninteresting. However, the non-vintage Angelica, made using the solera method, is truly delicious and balanced – a lovely after-dinner drink to pair with sharp, flavorful hard cheeses, or simply by itself. 

Lava Cap

A visit to El Dorado isn’t complete without a tasting at Lava Cap. Charlie Jones opened Lava Cap in 1986, and the family has quietly been producing high-elevation wines of character since then. Sons Emmet and Nolan, a Harvard graduate, have hopped on board to help run the family business. Emmet, a geologist, is the viticulturalist, while Nolan runs marketing and sales. Winemaker Joe Norman, formerly of Heitz Cellars and the creator of some of Heitz’s most legendary offerings from Martha’s Vineyard and Bella Oaks, makes balanced, understated wines that tend to lean towards restraint. The Lava Cap Cabernet Franc is a real beauty – precise, shy at first and ultimately, abundant with nuance and a violet-tinged prettiness. Their 2020 Gamay Noir is fun to drink, the thinking man and woman’s Glou Glou. 

Boeger Winery

I will admit that I’ve saved the best for last. I really enjoyed visiting Boeger Winery. It’s got everything – a long lineage, a rich local history, and modern, balanced, delicious wines. Founded in 1972, it was the first post-prohibition winery established in El Dorado. Founder Greg Boeger has always been a bit of an outlier, experimenting with grape varieties like Barbera, Carignane, Refosco, Charbono, and Aglianico before it became fashionable to do so. Son Justin, who is currently the winemaker, is perhaps more gifted than he realizes. Retiring and shy, he presented one wine after another that could be poured with confidence at any wine bar in Manhattan, San Francisco, or Los Angeles. At $25.00 a bottle, the Boeger White Pinot Noir, a still wine, is energetic, taut and drinks like a casual Fevre. That these purposeful, modern wines are found on such a historic site is seemingly contradictory at first. The grounds are old-timey, complete with the original blacksmith shop (dating back to the 1800s) and an equally antiquated gravity-fed winery that today serves as a tasting venue. But once you get the feel for the place and notice the small touches (a cathedral of Redwoods, planted by the Boeger family, that now towers above the main hospitality center) they reflect a family that is forward-thinking in their stewardship of the environment while still protective of the area’s past. First-time visitors to Boeger Winery are wise to set aside a couple of hours to truly enjoy the grounds, history and the wide-ranging and satisfying array of wines offered. 

Where to eat:

The Independent, located in Placerville, is contemporary yet cozy, and the cocktails are well-made. This is steak and potatoes country, and the best dishes on the menu include the hand-cut, marbled ribeye, but there are ample choices for pescatarians as well. 

Christian and Jennifer Masse, of Valance in the South of France, created Allez!, one of the region’s most popular restaurants among locals. They don’t accept reservations and lines are typically long, but if you’re able to grab a table, do, and enjoy their hearty, delicious, traditional standbys, like Coq au Vin, Boeuf Bourguignon, or Escargot a la Bourguignonne. Reminiscent of Monsieur Marcel's, in Los Angeles’ Fairfax Farmer’s Market, Allez! is a classic French bistro that delivers great food and an understated European charm. 

Timmy’s Brown Bag on Placerville’s Main Street is a great take-out joint. Founded by Ukrainian Timothy Swischuk (aka Timmy), Timmy’s sandwiches include a scrumptious Timmy’s Bành Mí, made with Cantonese lap cheong sausage, yellow pickled daikon, jalapeño sweet chili “sauce for chicken” slaw, fresh jalapeño, fresh mint, fresh cilantro, fresh Thai basil, fresh pea shoots, wasabi peas, Chinese barbecue pork floss aioli on a brioche bun. The PYROHY {pierogi, varenyky} and the truffle tots are also must-haves.

R.H. Drexel’s Top 25 Wines of 2021

Holy Moly, 2021 was weird. Perhaps it seemed especially so after living through the shit-show that was 2020. Maybe life would begin to feel normal again after so much was upended? Alas, if the last two years have taught us anything, it’s that life is never quite normal, it only seems that way to us when things are going relatively smoothly. But life has always been beautiful and brutal and the most we can do is hang on for the ride, enjoy the good times while they last, and go through the rough times with some modicum of strength, calm and courage. Oh, yeah, and wine, too. Wine sure as heck helps! 

The most memorable wines I personally enjoyed in 2021 were consumed within a somewhat nostalgic and bittersweet context: if we couldn’t always travel with ease, were concerned about political divisiveness, worried about climate change and inflation, and so much more---well, we could at least spend a couple of hours with a trusted friend over a good bottle of wine and share some laughs. My top 25 wines of 2021 list reflects the wines that suspended, at least for a time, any concerns, and brought much pleasure.

25. Domaine Bousquet Charmat Brut Rosé / Uco Valley, Argentina / $13

Unassuming. Bright. Over-performing.

24. Sans Wine Co. / Carbonic Carignan /Mendocino County / $72.00 (6 cans)

Casual. Coastal. Chilly is Best.

23. 2016 Hoopes Sophie’s Block Syrah / Oak Knoll, Napa Valley/ $60.00

Inviting. Layered. A Darkened Pretty.

22. 2018 Monochrome “Mix and Match” / Paso Robles / California / $41.00

White Flowers. Autumn Night Bike Ride Through Wet City Streets. Lime.

21. 2017 Boeger Winery Aglianico / El Dorado / California / $27.00

Balanced. Cool Pine Breezes. Purposeful Red.

20. 2017 Ravines Dry Riesling / Finger Lakes / New York / $23.00

Lifted. Bracing. Orange Grove in Full Blossom.

19. 2018 The Hilt Estate Chardonnay / Sta. Rita Hills / California / $65.00

Restraint & Pleasure. Kinetic. Exotic Citrus.

18. 2017 Adega de Borba Premium Red / Alentejo / Portugal / $15.00

Rustic. Confident. Food Please.

17. 2018 Haliotide Extra Brut Rose / Topotero Vineyard / SLO / $75.00

Fresh-Cut Grapefruit by the Sea. Windy Brightness. Hazelnuts.

16. 2020 Edio “Oliver’s” Chardonnay /El Dorado / $36.00

Crisp. Modern. Mountain Fruit.

15. 2018 Matt Morris Charbono /Tofanelli Vineyard / Calistoga / $85.00

Dark Galaxies. Blueberries in the Rain. Wet Stones.

14. 2017 Potek Pinot Noir / Rita’s Crown / Sta. Rita Hills/ California/ $68.00

Ruminative. The Saline Pacific. Age-worthy.

13. 2019 Starfield Vineyards Cinsault / El Dorado / California / $32.00

Cold Mountain Fog. Lavender Pastilles. Conifer.

12. 2020 Herdade do Esporão Reserva White / Alentejo / Portugal / $20.00

The Bracing Atlantic. Breezy. Satisfying.

11. 2019 Bedrock W.C. Heritage Wine / Enz Vineyard / Cienega Valley /$45.00

Mourtaou Mystery. Historic. Pink Peppercorns.

10. 2020 Birichino Vermentino / Mahoney Ranch Vineyard / Napa / $24.00

Positively Ligurian. Bright. Fresh Basil.

9. 2020 Madrona Riesling “Hillside” / El Dorado / California / $18.00

Charming. Apricot Stone. High Elevation.

8. 2018 Jada Vineyard “Strayts” / Paso Robles / California / $67.00

Wild Sage. Underbrush. Black Cherry Meat.

7. 2018 Chateau Musar Rose / Bekaa Valley, Lebanon / $36.00

Mysterious. Layered. Juicy.

6. 2018 Lang & Reed Cabernet Franc / California / $30.00

Vital. Particular. Delightful.

5. 2019 Alma Rosa “Attente” / Sta. Rita Hills / California / $85.00

Bay Leaves. Sea Mist. Dark Fruits Growing in a Forest.

4. 2019 Drew Syrah / Perli Vineyard / Mendocino Ridge / California / $55.00

Sanguine. Oceanic. Picholines.

3. 2017 Piro Pinot Noir / Presqu’ile / Santa Maria Valley / California / $44.00

Refreshing. Canopy of Oaks & Lichen. Violets.

2. Chateau Simone Palette Blanc / Provence / France / $60.00

Trippy. Sublime. Unstoppable.

1. 2019 Palladius by the Sadie Family / Swartland / South Africa / $150.00

Alchemical blend. Manna. Unmatched.

Celebrating Pride Month with Winemaker Jerome Chery

“Know from whence you came. If you know whence you came, there are absolutely no limitations to where you can go.” James Baldwin

A native of Chateauroux, a small town south of Orleans in Central France, Jerome Chery grew up around wine. He had his first sip of Champagne when he was 10-years old while his father regaled him with poetic descriptions of his favorite Pommard. As a young man, Chery went on to study enology and agriculture, earning his degree from the University of Burgundy in Dijon.

Following winemaking apprenticeships in Provence, Laguedoc Roussillon and the Loire Valley, he headed to Australia’s Swan Valley for a time before moving to California to become the Assistant Winemaker at Newton Vineyards in the Napa Valley. Following a brief stint working as an enologist for Winemaker John Kongsgaard at Luna Vineyards, Chery landed a job that would definitively shape his career. For the next five years, he would work on the Sonoma Coast, alongside the legendary Ted Lemon at Littorai. Lemon encouraged Chery to rely on his intuition and guided him through a deep understanding of vintage-by-vintage farming. Armed with a deeper understanding of California’s diverse, complex terroirs, he gained an even greater appreciation for Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. In 2004, he joined Saintsbury Winery in the Carneros region, where he would spend ten years exploring these grape varieties and varietal wines. While there, he was promoted to Director of Winemaking.

Today, Chery is the winemaker at Fog Crest Vineyards in the Russian River Valley AVA and at Gentleman Farmer Wines, in the Napa Valley. When he’s not in the cellar or the vineyard, Chery can usually be found cooking, dining out or traveling; his three loves. Chery came out at the age of 36, and we celebrate him, and all of our LGTBQIA wine community this Pride Month. Here, presented with the Proust Questionnaire, Chery talks Clarice Starling, black coffee, Bora Bora and having no regrets.

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What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Breakfast in bed once the harvest is completed with homemade croissants, black coffee and sugar, with great company. 

What is your greatest fear?

To die alone and in pain.

What is your greatest extravagance?

To fly to Bora Bora every other weekend. I wish! Recently, getting my vintage watch fixed. Ouch. But that's my only greatest extravagance to date. 

What is the quality you most like in a man?

Honesty.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

Honesty

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

"To begin with", "The thing is", "That's for sure."

Which talent would you most like to have?


To play the violin. 

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

To be more patient. 

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Becoming the winemaker at Saintsbury at 34-years old, coupled with a green card sponsorship. Hopefully, there are more to come!

Where would you like to live?

In Provence, drinking Bandol Rosé and Pastis. 

What is your most treasured possession?

My dad's and his dad's gold signet ring. 

Who are your heroes in real life?


My mom for teaching me so much and being such an amazing mom. My dad who is fighting cancer. My late paternal grandfather who joined the French Resistance very early on during World War II.

Who are your heroes in fiction?

Wonderwoman, Spiderman and Clarice Starling.  

What are your favorite names?

Romaric, Sylvère and Anaïs. 

What is it that you most dislike?

Bigotry. 

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?

It would be Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela in one person. We need that person!

What is your greatest regret?

I really have no regrets. 

How would you like to die?

In the company of my family and friends, drinking vintage Champagne while listening to Ella Fitzgerald singing Cole Porter. 

What is your motto? 

Life is too short, let's make the best of it.

Stepping into the World with Fingers Crossed

A former barista champion and a Harvard-trained psychiatrist lay it on the line for their small winery

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Alexander McQueen // "There comes a time in your life when you focus solely on what you believe is right, regardless of what everybody else is doing."

I first meet Julia and Nikolas Krankl, of Fingers Crossed, on a cold January afternoon in Paso Robles. They’ve travelled about three hours north of where they and their winery reside – the small township of Ojai, California, known mostly for its free-spirited bohemian culture set against the stunning backdrop of the Los Padres National Forest. Looking surprisingly energetic following what I, at the age of fifty-six, consider to be a full-on “road trip”, they’re young and vibrant as they swiftly climb a flight of steps toward the venue where we’ll be meeting. Fully prepared, they’ve even packed wine glasses for the three of us. Sophienwald. “We find the aeration can make a big difference in the presentation of the nose and flavor,” Julia Krankl says. “It’s about us controlling the few things we can, to let the wine show its best.” 

As we’re sitting down to chat, I learn that their children, Mila (6) and Lorenzo (“Enzo”, 7), are knee-deep in remote-learning and have been for over a year. “We don’t have a big house, but when the pandemic happened, we knew the kids needed a school space,” Nikolas says. “So, we piled everything into 40-foot containers, emptied our garage, and converted it into a classroom. I’m glad we did, because here we are, a year later. It’s their separation from the house. We call the garage the ‘school’ now.” Still, they say, nearly in unison, “It’s been a rollercoaster.” 

Nikolas, wiry and lean with closely shorn hair, sets up the glassware while, Julia, warm and friendly but calmer in comportment, lines up the wines and decanters at the table where we’ll be sitting. Born a week apart in May of 1984, the Krankls have been together since meeting as undergrads at the University of Arizona. They lived near each other briefly, unbeknownst to one another, when both were attending daycare in the San Fernando Valley. Julia, who was born in Japan and lived there for a year, lived in Southern California temporarily before moving to Arizona, where she spent her formative years. Nikolas was born and raised in the San Fernando Valley. “I’m an Angeleno, through and through,” he says.

At the University of Arizona, Nikolas was studying journalism, “mostly because I enjoy writing,” he tells me, while Juila studied Chemistry (pre-med). “I knew from early on that I wanted to be a doctor.” While both were seniors, they lived on the same property just a mile from campus; Julia in the main house with four other students, and Nikolas by himself in a small guest house out back. “It was 500.00 a month. All-inclusive. That was fancy by Tucson standards.” He continues, “I was studying journalism, but I had a love of Texas Hold ‘em. I still do to this day.” 

It was 2005, and on-line poker was experiencing a boom. “It was all the rage,” he says. “We would play in little home games. Friends would get together, and we’d have drinks and play poker, and I loved that. I grew up doing that with my mom.” He explains that though the pots might not seem big these days, they seemed big to a college student. His computer would often freeze, though – the wi-fi going out – during big bets. “You would know that in certain amount of time, your hand would be counterfeited and refolded. If you were in a spot where you felt you were going to win some money, losing the wi-fi connection was a problem.” Nikolas would find himself running into the main house to turn off and then restart the modem. It was during one of these frantic moments that he met Julia. “My room was near the back door,” she says “where the modem was, and he was always rushing in. I kept wondering, who is this guy who keeps running into the house in his boxers?”

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They eventually found each other playing poker one night during a communal game. When Nikolas misplaced his phone that night, Julia called his number to help him locate it. They now had each other’s digits. Shortly thereafter, Nikolas sent Julia a message inviting her to star gaze. “If you’ve been to Tucson, you know the sky is breathtaking. We have stars here too, but nothing compares to that sky; no light pollution.” While sitting on a rooftop, stargazing, “the sparks flew,” Nikolas says. “We hit it off very quickly. We knew there was a strong attraction to one another. Not long after that, we moved in together.”

When Julia applied and was accepted to Harvard Medical School, Nikolas followed her to Boston. They’d only been together for one year. They had no family or friends there and didn’t know a soul in the city. “That really cemented our relationship,” he tells me. They moved into what turned out to be Section 8 housing neighborhood. “We didn’t have any money,” Julia says. “It was a harsh and humbling experience. We walked to the grocery store with a shopping cart. A child got shot in a drive-by while we lived there. It taught us to count on each other and hardened us in a good way,” Julia says. Nikolas adds, “Looking back on it now, I feel like our blades have been sharpened together by that experience. We have more in our tool kit.” 

Being at Harvard tested Julia. She didn’t come from a long line of Ivy Leaguers. Her GPA and family income earned her financial aid for medical school, but just enough to scrape by. “There were students there with 12-bedroom family homes in Maine. It was a totally different world from what I grew up in.” Nikolas took up employment writing for a poker magazine. “That was the highlight of my journalism career,” he says now. They sent him to cover tournaments, in locales as far away as the Bahamas, and he got paid a dollar a word. “I thought I’d made it, but I quickly learned it’s really hard to support yourself as a journalist.” 

To supplement his income, he took a job at a local ice cream parlor called JP Licks. He didn’t have a car, and it was only a block from their apartment. They specialized in homemade ice cream and roasted their own coffee. “My family was into coffee and I wanted to learn how to roast, but talk about humbling,” he says. “You go to a Harvard cocktail party and one person’s dad is an advisor for Obama. Everyone’s so prestigious and fancy. And here’s Julia saying, ‘This is my boyfriend Nik.’ And they ask, ‘What do you do? And I say, ‘I work at JP Licks scooping ice cream.’” He admits it was an embarrassing experience at first. “If you’d had an ego, you wouldn’t anymore. And that was a good thing. It grounded me very much.” They were both 22 years old at the time. 

Julia found the experience humbling for other reasons. Observing the overt racism in what she calls a “segregated” Boston was “hard for both of us. It was a time of finding our identity. I’m half Mexican. He’s half Jewish. Boston – and Harvard to some extent – force you to ask, ‘What is my identity?’ I’d walk down the street and people would ask, ‘Are you Spanish?’ It was uncomfortable. When we’d walk through certain neighborhoods, locals would tell us we did not belong there. Some friends did not want to come over to our apartment because our neighborhood was considered dangerous. Never before in my life had it been so blatant the line in the sand between the haves and have-nots.” 

While at JP Licks, Nikolas explored his nascent love of coffee. He’d had a mentor in his grandfather Lawrence, or Lorenzo as friends called him in Italy. “He and his Italian friends would go to coffee – 4 or 5 times a day – and he was obsessed with that kind of camaraderie. I think he was ahead of his time with regard to specialty coffee in the United States. When we went to restaurants, we would order an espresso after the dinner, and he would go back into the kitchen and show the waiter how pull a proper double ristretto. When I started getting into coffee, he was right at my side. Eager.” 

When Nikolas expressed an interest in having his own cafe, his grandfather – who was in construction law and enjoyed finding and restoring old historic buildings – helped him buy an old brick-and-mortar shop, The Taste of Newtonville. The Krankls renamed it “Taste.” After attending classes all day, Julia would work and study at Taste in the evenings, doing what Nikolas describes as unglamorous, but critical work. “I’m more analytical”, Julia says. “If only five people ordered a menu item in a week, I would scratch it off the list.” Taste café ultimately helped the young couple feel connected and rooted to Boston. High schoolers from a school down the street became regulars. Locals came in often. “It started to feel like home. Nik would work there twelve- to fourteen-hour days, 7 days a week, while I was doing clinical rotations 80 hours a week and studying in Taste’s basement. We were grinding so hard then, but things were finally clicking for us in Boston.”

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While exploring ways to market their café, Nik discovered the Barista Championship. “It’s a real thing. I’m not making this up,” he says. “In 15 minutes, the barista must prepare and serve espressos, cappuccinos, and a personally designed signature beverage for four sensory judges; all while being assessed on their preparation abilities by two technical judges,” the competition’s official website states. Nikolas took to it immediately. “It scratched many itches for me. It requires an extremely narrow focus, and there’s a competitive edge to it. That’s what I like about poker. Trying to be the best, trying to win at something. Those types of things get me excited.” “It makes us chuckle to think of those barista competition days”, Julia adds. “Lugging our own table settings, coffee cups, grinder, coffee, milk carafes, steaming pitchers, scales, a butane torch (!) all over the country. The TSA must have thought we were quite bizarre.” At one point, Krankl placed second in the United States Barista Competition. “That was the pinnacle of that career. It was a fun chapter,” he says. 

When Julia applied and was accepted for her psychiatry residency at UCLA, Nikolas was left with the prospect of selling their cafe. He ultimately found the perfect buyer in legendary coffee roaster George Howell. Their move to Los Angeles proved fruitful. “Unlike at Harvard, I was in my zone at UCLA during my residency. We were close to Nik’s family, and the weather was great. I loved what I was doing. It just felt right.” 

While she was in the first year of her residency, he was once again struggling with what to do for a living. “Do you notice a theme here?” he says, smirking self-deferentially. They had considered establishing a west coast coffee roastery, but the idea proved too expensive to pull off at California real estate prices. “And it wouldn’t have been interesting to us to do something just based upon scale. It wouldn’t have been fun to make a lot of coffee. We just wanted to make the best coffee we could make.” Even so, Nikolas says, the patina had worn off coffee making for him. “The problem is that the best cup of coffee on the planet can maybe sell for…five dollars? Six? And the worst cup of coffee in the world? One or two dollars. So, you’re talking about a three-dollar swing between the best and the worst in the world. To me, that became, honestly…disheartening. I’m mostly driven by creativity, risk taking and competition. Those are the elements that define who I am. But I’m also pragmatic about business, and I started to feel that the specialty coffee industry was unsustainable.”

Instead, he went to work with his aunt, famed chef Nancy Silverton, who at the time was collaborating on a bakery and burger joint at the Farmer’s Market off Fairfax in Los Angeles. They were called, respectively, Short Order and Short Cake. They hired Nikolas a consultant, establishing their single origin coffee program. “The space turned out lovely and I met so many interesting and talented people along the way, such as Amy Pressman, Bill Chait, Walter Mansky and Phil Rosenthal, but my eyes were wandering towards wine.”

It was around this time that he began to wonder if he should explore winemaking, as his father, Manfred Krankl, had done, and continues to do, very successfully at Sine Qua Non, one of world’s most iconic wine brands. “It got to the point where I started to wonder why I hadn’t even entertained the idea before. In 2012, that thought became a reality with Manfred and Elaine hired me to work for them.” They took a risk and bought a house in the Ojai Valley, just across the riverbed from Sine Qua Non, which they can see from their backyard. While Nikolas worked at the SQN’s TTT (The Third Twin) vineyard in Los Alamos, Julia commuted daily to UCLA. Though they didn’t yet have kids, Julia was pregnant, and the long commutes, coupled with working far apart from one another, proved stressful for the young couple. “It was a really hard time for us, but we just put one foot in front of the other and kept on working hard. We’re very committed as a couple, so even adversity isn’t going to do anything to us.”

He says now his only intention was “to learn how to make wine from the master. There was no special treatment, and I wouldn’t have wanted that anyway. Every employee was held to the same standard. They expected me to forge my own path and find my own way in the company and I life.” Under the tutelage of his father, Nikolas learned to do everything from pruning grape vines and working the vineyard to racking, sorting grapes, packing boxes…you name it. “It’s a mom-and-pop business, so you do everything. I’m extremely fortunate for that opportunity, because when you start your own business, you have to do everything, too.” 

He immediately fell in love with winegrowing and winemaking. “I got to work with my hands. I loved seeing the transformation from grape to bottle and seeing the extra efforts in production translate into a qualitative difference. I began reading Robert Parker’s The Wine Advocate and buying the cheapest wines with the highest ratings. It was really fun,” he says of those early days. 

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Just two years later, though, his father was in a serious motorcycle accident. “That really changed the whole dynamic at Sine Qua Non, because if someone is imagining Manfred sitting in a cozy chair just waving his wand…well, that’s just not the case. He is very hands on. He’s involved in every single aspect. Not having him around during his recovery felt like if the Patriots lost Tom Brady.” He says now that the pressure to not let his father down was immense. “It was crucial that we not screw up.” 

With the added responsibilities, though, came a newfound confidence. “If you always have a safety net and someone to catch you when you fall, maybe you take fewer risks. But the safety net was taken out from under us, and we didn’t fall---we did great. That was because of the entire Sine Qua Non team. Manfred and Elaine built that team.” After emerging through the other side of that tumultuous time, and with Manfred back in the driver’s seat, Nik contemplated starting a winery.

Was breaking the news to his father difficult? “I thought it was going to be a difficult conversation to have. I didn’t want to leave Manfred and Elaine hanging.” His father reacted differently than he expected. “I think there was a small part of him that was happy about it. Afterall, he’s a pioneer and a trailblazer. Maybe he saw a part of himself in my actions. I had all this fear leading up to telling him, but he was great. ‘Whatever you need help with. We have fruit’, etc. It felt great. Now we just had to figure out how the fuck we were going to do this.” 

Three years later, in 2017, they launched their winery, Faethm. They began by converting a 2,000 square foot barn on their property into a functioning winery. “It took a lot of work and our whole life’s savings, which wasn’t much, but we did it.” The Faethm name didn’t last for long, though, as Babcock Winery, located in the Sta. Rita Hills of Santa Barbara County, had trademarked the name “Fathom” for one of their cuvées. They initially tried to trademark the Faethm name, but one and a half years later with thousands of dollars paid to attorneys, the Krankls tapped out and chose another name, Fingers Crossed. “The first and only wine under Faethm was called Fingers Crossed, a good luck reference for a successful first vintage, and also to protect us from losing our home and fire in the Thomas fire,” Nikolas says. 

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They founded the winery as a partnership, with Julia joining Nikolas in the vineyard, cellar, making the artwork, and every other phase of operations, while still practicing Psychiatry. Though she didn’t grow up around wine, she had a passion for cooking. “Cooking was my saving grace throughout medical school. It was my outlet. It still is.” Her first exposure to wine was Sine Qua Non. “That set a high bar,” she says, chuckling. The pair fell into a natural rhythm working alongside one another at Fingers Crossed. “Julia doesn’t have any training, outside of working with me, so when she’s thinking about it and learning about it, it’s almost like it’s through the lens of a child, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s an unassuming, pure way. If I were to say, ‘we’re going to ferment 50% whole cluster on the grenache, Julia wants to know ‘why? ‘what does that mean,’ ‘what does it do?’ It’s refreshing. Julia’s curiosity challenges the status quo of what I’ve learned. Our house style or thumbprint comes from my training being subjected to Julia’s inquisitive mind. That leads us to do things differently, or not, depending on the discussion,” he says. They found themselves happy with the wine that ended up in the bottle, but unsure how it would be received. Julia tells me, “Who are we to say what’s good or not good? Ultimately, we had to make a wine we wanted to drink.”

“You don’t get to blend your way into a great wine,” Nikolas says, “or blend your way out of a bad wine. When we go through and make our blends, we’re not looking for a correct answer. It’s more about ‘What are we trying to accomplish with this wine? What are we trying to say?’ But that’s not to say that the 30th blend was better than the first. What the vintage does, what Mother Nature does, and then what we do in our decisions around harvest and vinifying, is 95% of the product. And then the little blending you do at the end is you putting your own signature on it. But Mother Nature is a serious force, and what she can produce here on the Central Coast is amazing.”

Their decision to make extraordinarily little wine is intentional. They’ll only make as much as they control; that is to say, they literally touch every cluster that is harvested. Nikolas likens the importance of this process to a chef checking plates before they go out of the kitchen. “You wouldn’t let a moldy piece of bread go by. We wouldn’t let a moldy grape cluster go by. Once you have great fruit in the fermenter, now your role is to ask, are we going to have spoilage problems? Not really, it’s clean fruit. Just keep it at the right temperature. The amount of S02 we use is tiny. And that’s because the grapes are healthy. At that point, there’s just the coaxing out of flavors. We’re gentle. We don’t have big crushers and fancy tools; it’s people and foot treading. It’s low-tech, analogue winemaking. It’s the simple mindset of paying attention. Use your senses and use your mind. What I like about doing it with your own hands is that it starts to paint a real picture of that fruit – of what it will become down the road. When you’re on the sorting table for ten hours tasting two tons of grenache, by the end of the day, you’re really getting plugged into what that fruit is, and what you’ll have, and what we want from it. You’re building a relationship with it.”

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Julia draws an analogy, explaining how hard it was for her to bond with her newborn niece, Everett, who was born during the pandemic. “It’s impossible to get to know a baby during Covid when you can’t hold them. If I’m sitting six feet away from her and I’m waving, it doesn’t compute for her. Baby’s need skin to skin contact, daily contact. You need that in order to know a child. That applies to the wine: I can only get to know it if I’m in the cellar every day; unless your hands are in it, you don’t know it. As with anything you do in life, you have to be willing to be present and put up with the challenges in order to really get to know something.”

Their commitment to detail is the foundational philosophy of Fingers Crossed. “My dad says something along the lines of, ‘Do everything that everyone says they’re doing.’ When you don’t cut any corners, great things are possible, Nikolas says. “How you do anything is how you do everything. Even though every small task may add up to only a fraction of a percent, multiply that over two years, and you really move the quality needle. Burt this no-compromise approach is costly. We’re fortunate that we have great fans who are willing to pay $120.00 for a bottle. And so we’re able to make a very little bit of wine the best way we know how, and still kind of make it work. But, if I had to sell that same wine for $15.00 a bottle, guess what, we’re out of business. It’s over,” he says. “We don’t have a scale up plan,” Julia adds. “We have such respect for the people who can scale and make great wine, but we’re just not even close to imagining that.” 

Do they hope their young children will become interested in wine? “A hundred percent I hope they will!” Nikolas exclaims. Their children smell all the wines during blending trials and perform various chores around the winery, including their favorite, spraying out picking bins. “I would love it if I got to have my children work alongside me until I get old and crotchety. That would be a dream.” When I ask Julia if she hopes either one of their children goes into Psychiatry, she’s ruminative. “Depending upon the day you talk to me, I have different views about medicine as a career. My mom was a picture framer growing up and had her own shop, and I spent the bulk of my childhood there. I loved being there. She had all these art books – huge bins filled with art you could just thumb through. She used to pay me a dollar an hour to clean all the displays, meet with customers.” Because of the confidential and often disturbing aspects of Psychiatry, Julia is not able to enjoy a “take your child to work day” with her kids. “It’s been a sad thing for me. I have a romanticism about working with your parents and teaching children at a young age about the value of money and hard work. We really try to instill that in our kids.” Daughter Mila, who is six, has grown accustomed to negotiating her hourly rate for chores that she performs around the winery, including vacuuming, which she favors. Enzo, their son, is a budding artist and, during the pandemic, would spend up to six hours a day drawing and making art. “He’s seven, but I think he’s quite talented. We tell him that a big part of our company is art, so we want to see what he’s making. He likes to create things. He’s a person who wants to make something. His favorite tool is the hot glue gun. He’ll make board games, figurines, comic books… We really want to promote that. People who have artistic temperaments need that to be acknowledged. He wants to go into a hole, work on his art, not be interrupted, and be praised for his work. We want to nourish that.” 

From a winemaking perspective, it might make more sense for the Krankls to live in nearby Santa Barbara County, but Ojai, they say, feels much more like home. “People are kind, friendly, down-to-earth, and non-judgmental. They support the arts, kids, local businesses and artisans. Spending time in nature is the way of life in Ojai. We practically lived on a hiking trail this past year. Ojai locals are open-minded and there are people here from all walks of life, “ Julia says. “People have differing views, but it’s all respectful. I love to listen to people who have a completely different perspective of the world than I do. That’s how you learn. Living in Ojai for us has been a sanctuary, particularly during this past year.”

It appears Ojai serves in part as their muse, as well, as the pair design their own labels – labels that will change every year. The 2018 wines are under labels featuring just a glimpse of Julia’s face. They created this label utilizing a technique called emulsion lift or photo transfer from Julia’s self-portrait. It’s an outdated process that involves shooting a Polaroid picture and then separating the film from the paper backing. The Krankls then transferred the image onto watercolor paper and distorted it. Previous labels featured a pair of hands holding a rosary – an image Nikolas created using a woodcut. Their bottles are hand-wrapped in tissue paper and sealed with an elegant stamp. “Why do we wrap presents, if it weren’t for the drama of it all,” Nikolas says. “And for the excitement and build up. It’s a fun process to take off the tissue paper, get to cut the wax. No one needs wine. It’s just a pure fun thing. What we’re trying to do is take the idea of what’s fun and put a big multiplier on that and make the enjoyment of Fingers Crossed as fun as possible. We just want it to be enjoyable because that’s its only purpose.” 

2018 Fingers Crossed White Wine: This golden-hued cuvée – comprised of 72% Roussanne (Cumulus Vineyard), 24 % Chardonnay (Bien Nacido Vineyard) and 4% Viognier (White Hawk Vineyard) – is a profound white wine of great depth and nuance. It took me back to my childhood and the smell of my aunt’s kitchen when she baked Portuguese sweetbread, while the fruit trees in her backyard were in full blossom. The aromatics are hyper-lifted, the texture sublime and the finish, impossibly long. Decanting this wine will serve it well. It’s a well-made chameleon of a wine, revealing sensory surprises minute upon minute. $79.00

2018 Fingers Crossed Grenache: At 75% Grenache, this outstanding wine is completed with 11% Mourvedre, 11% Syrah and 3% Roussanne. The vineyard sources include The Third Twin, Cumulus and the Sebastiano Vineyard in Sta. Rita Hills. Long my favorite grape variety, I tend to set a very high bar when it comes to Grenache and find myself comparing every Grenache I’ve ever tasted to Rayas. That approach didn’t suit me here, for the 2018 Fingers Crossed Grenache shatters new paradigms of this variety’s typicity. Somehow, it’s found a voice at these vineyard sources – and in these hands – that reaches the pinnacle of Rayas, at least for me, though they’re nothing alike. This wine was for me a quiet revelation. Deeply beautiful and unforgettable. $120.00

2018 Fingers Crossed Syrah: An age-worthy, complex iodine elixir. Because it has such profundity – a kind of violet pastille-tinged texture that pleases the tongue and stirs the memory – it ought to be granted sufficient time and consideration. One might pour this wine, finding that six hours later, it’s still evolving and revealing new depths and sensations. The fruit, sourced from Bien Nacido, Sebastiano, The Third Twin and Cumulus, comes in at 93% Syrah, 2% Grenache, 2% Mourvedre and 3% Roussanne. One of the best representations of American Syrah I’ve had the pleasure to drink. $120.00

Everything Takes Balance: Mary J. Blige on Friuli, Collaboration, and the Importance of Meditation

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“Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined.”

― Toni Morrison, Beloved

I can still remember where I was the first time I heard the song “911”, the stunning collaborative effort between artists Wyclef Jean and Mary J. Blige. It was 2000, and my thirty-six-year-old self was heading down California’s Hwy. 101, southbound to Los Angeles. I had just taken the Cochrane Road exit, near Gilroy – Garlic Capital of the World – to use the bathroom and get a snack at a gas station where I’d often stop because of its relatively clean bathroom. Achingly single at the time, a heavy loneliness permeated the air, despite its being a clear summer night. A full moon was flooding my moon roof when those first few guitar riffs, played by Jean, came on the radio. Thousands of songs populate a life. Maybe even tens of thousands. The most memorable land just at the right time, as if Fate herself had a hand in providing the truest melody and lyric to attend the wandering heart.

In the cinematic video accompanying the song (remember those?), Wyclef serenades Blige – first in his imagination, then as he boards a subway train, moving through an urban sea of neon and graffiti late one evening. Blige, sitting alone in her apartment, awaits his arrival. Finally standing beneath her window, the street lights casting long shadows against the pavement, Jean cries out, in Stanley-esque desperation, “Mary, Yo, Mary / If this is the kind of love that your mom used to warn you about / Man, we are in trouble / You're in real big trouble / If this is the kind of love that the old folks used to warn me about / I'm in trouble / I'm in real big trouble / You got anything to say, girl?” By the end of the song, they’re facing each other out in the middle of the street, throwing down in song, each character still in love, despairing, tormented by the irreconcilable nature of their mutual obsession.

It’s as relevant and powerful today as it was then, as is much of the music comprising Blige’s oeuvre – a body of work that has earned her quite literally hundreds of awards, including nine Grammys. As an actor, she was nominated for an Academy Award for her role as Florence Jackson in 2017’s Mudbound. Blige’s talents are undoubtedly enormous and oft-celebrated, but her greatest work of art yet may her own life, one that uncannily resonates with the everyman and everywoman, and cuts across many divides. We believe Blige the artist when she communicates, through her work, that she has known real struggle – a relatable, deeply human kind of suffering that only the most truth-telling artists can convey.

Born in the Bronx, New York in January of 1971, Blige spent the earlier part of her childhood in Savannah, Georgia. Later, the family returned to New York, residing in the Schlobohm Housing Projects of Yonkers. When her father left the family in the mid-1970s, Blige and her siblings subsisted on her mother’s salary as a nurse. When Blige was just five years old, she was molested by a family friend, and later, in school, endured years of sexual harassment from her peers. Eventually, Blige turned to alcohol and drugs, dropping out of high school in her junior year.

When I ask her why she seems drawn to art forms that are distinctly communal – music, acting, wine – the power of each potentially enhanced when experienced with others – she says, “For one, I think I was supposed to do everything that I’m doing. And because of so many trials and tribulations – just terrible things that have happened – I don’t think they happened for no reason. I think they happened to help someone else to heal. While you’re healing and you’re going through all your public things, whatever you’re dealing with, the world is watching you. It’s an art form to be able to stand and not just fall or die, to stay strong in front of the world, because I had to live my life in front of the world. Even as little girl, I had to stay strong when so many things were happening.” Blige frames her life’s purpose as being able to touch someone else’s life. “That’s the only way I know how to see it,” she says of her influence. “When you’re able to do that, and people can relate to it, it creates a conversation, maybe between a mother and her daughter: ‘If Mary can get through it then you can get through it.’”

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Her Sun Goddess wine brand carries the nickname ascribed to Blige by her sister. “When I was a child, I just loved the sun. I would stay outside so long that my mother would yell at me to get in the house. When I got older, it was the same thing.” When traveling with her sister as grown-ups, Blige says, “we’d go to islands and I would hang out in the sun a little longer than her, and she’d say, ‘Look Sun Goddess, I can’t take this sun.’ She calls me that all the time. When it was time to name the wine, I just felt it was a no-brainer. The wine is relative to the sun; it changes the mood, it makes you smile. It gives you nice color in your skin. [The sun] makes you happy and wine makes you happy and it makes everything lighter so why not be the goddess of something like that?” Laughing, Blige eases into our chat. She’s sitting in a brightly lit, white room. Behind her, a wintry landscape, set against a blue sky, can be viewed through two large windows. A jade-green colored vase, filled with pink roses, sits in a corner and matches her blouse this morning, the green contrasting her long, blonde locks. Her face is framed in large, black glasses. A row of Sun Goddess wines on a windowsill behind her capture the sunlight.

Blige seems to thrive when collaborating creatively with others, and her partnership with Marco Fantinel and the Fantinel family is no different. The Fantinel family is a three-generation family of wine growers in Friuli Venezia Giulia (north-eastern Italy) who have been noteworthy growers and producers in the region since 1969. What surprised her most about this collaboration? “Just the labor of love it turned out to be,” she says. “The very first time I touched down in Friuli, Italy it was all about a celebration.” On that day the Fantinels were having a family celebration. “First, of course, we went right into tasting wines. That was fun.” They discussed what Blige wanted her wines to taste like; they would be collaborating on a sauvignon blanc and a rose of Pinot Grigio (ramato). After the tasting, Blige and the Fantinels headed up to the family home, arriving in the middle of a birthday celebration for one of the Fantinel daughters. “I got to know the family, I got to know his [Marco’s] wife, and they were just so warm; the Italians are so warm. And the property was breathtaking. It was like a dream or something like that. That’s the beauty of it.” Blige’s wines, now out in the marketplace and broadly distributed, are emblematic of the region; they are fresh, bone dry, possessing of good natural acid, and meant to accompany food. Still, Blige says, she imagined her sauvignon blanc and rose of Pinot Grigio would go well mostly with seafood and pasta. “It is a surprise to me that my wines do so well with meat, too. Even lamb and steaks.”

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Blige enjoys her wines and speaks of them knowledgeably and with pride in her voice. Because of her past struggles with sobriety, I ask Blige if her meditation practice and her rituals of self-care have helped her to enjoy wine without it becoming problematic for her. “Absolutely,” she says, “because everything takes balance. And with meditation and prayer, and with going into the Self and taking responsibility for the Self, you start to learn how to love yourself, and when you start to love yourself, you don’t abuse things. You don’t want to be an alcoholic, you don’t want to wake up looking terrible. You want to go to your job on time or do a great interview without being hung over. So, yeah, meditation, prayer and centering yourself is extremely important because it shows you…You. It’s a mirror.”

Blige also finds great solace in the vineyards she visits at Fantinel. “It’s very peaceful. So quiet and still. The air is so fresh…so refreshing.” Blige contrasts her time in Friuli with sometimes having to be in the big city where pollution is so prevalent. “Where the vineyards are there’s just so much greenery. It’s really a breath of fresh air.”

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When I first saw Blige’s wines for sale, I was pleased with the price point. They each retail for about $20.00 a bottle. I’m curious as to whether or not Blige was involved at all in the pricing of her wines. “Extremely,” she responds, “because a lot of my fans, and just people in general, don’t have the finances at a time like this, or even period, to enjoy wine. My fan base is, ‘Are we going to a concert, or are we buying a pair of shoes? Are we going to be able to afford a babysitter?’ I’m always thinking about how the everyday person is thinking. At the same time, they want to enjoy the luxury of a good wine. So price point is very important because I want everyone to enjoy a good bottle of wine. Rich, poor, don’t matter.”

Blige defers to Marco Fantinel, the President of the Fantinel Group, when discussing the making and blending of the wines. Fantinel was born in Udine, Italy in 1970, one year before Blige, and was educated in the United Kingdom at the European School of London, where he graduated in International Business Administration. While he oversees the vinification and completion of the wines, Blige steps in creatively to direct their flavor profile. They reflect what she likes most about each grape variety and varietal wine under the brand’s purview. “What I do is taste it. I say this is ‘yummy’ and they run with it,” Blige says confidently.

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That Blige’s wines were released in 2020, during a pandemic, and are performing well in the wholesale market is a testament to Blige’s palate and the Fantinel Group’s understanding of their consumer base. Their success seems to have surprised Blige. “Just because I like something, I never think, ‘Everybody’s gonna love it.’ I always hope other people will like it.” But Blige was over the moon when she realized “people were buying Sun Goddess like crazy. I wanted it to bring people joy. And it was released during the summertime, so it brought even more sunlight into people’s homes. I’ve seen it in stores. Wally’s in LA has it stocked. Some of my friends will take pictures of it when they see it in stores, and that’s just a beautiful, beautiful feeling. I’m waiting on the day that I go to a restaurant and people have it on the table. That’s coming soon.” When I ask Blige what she would hope to overhear someone saying upon enjoying her wine for the first time, she says, without hesitation, “That it’s delicious. That they loved it.”

R.H. Drexel’s Top 25 Wines of 2020

Whew! What a year. Most of us won’t mind watching 2020 disappear in the rearview mirror. Save for a lucky few who tied the knot, had a kid, or engaged in some other hopeful activity, this past year will go down as one of the most challenging for even the strongest among us.

A global pandemic. CHECK. Economic crisis. CHECK. Political unrest. CHECK. The rise of white nationalism. CHECK. Clean wines. CHECK. I could go on…it was a tough one. But, despite all the turmoil and uncertainty, a bevy of beautiful wines could still be found just a hop, skip, click or jump away. Local retailers and delivery services witnessed an uptick in wine and spirits sales, while wineries leaned into their loyal wine club members, many of whom proved to be steadfast customers, giving wineries a much-needed boost in direct sales.

At our house, my wife and I enjoyed more wine together this year than any other in our marriage. We shared several truly great wines together. Not only did these beauties provide much needed liquid courage; they also proved to be exceptionally delicious and artful.

Herewith then, dear reader, are my favorite wines of 2020. These splendors made an otherwise impossible year a bit more palatable. A thanks to these producers for managing to release exceptional wines (and keep the lights on) when so much else seemed unknown. Your work made my life a little sweeter.

25. 2019 Hubba Wines “Mutha” Chardonnay, Monterey and Santa Barbara Counties

Oceanic. Fresh. Citrus. $ 42.00

24. 2016 Talbott Vineyards Chardonnay “Sarah Case”, Sleepy Hollow Vineyard, Monterey County

Nectar. Perfumed by Nature. Confident.

23. 2016 Storm Pinot Noir, Presqu’ile Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley, Santa Barbara County

Bergamot. Saline. A rose garden. $ 55.00

22. 2019 Lady of the Sunshine Sauvignon Blanc, Coquelicot Vineyard, Santa Barbara County

Natural. Vibrant. Lemons on the tree. $ 30.00

21. 2018 Wasenhaus Pinot Noir, “Vulkan”, Baden, Germany

Austere. Piercing. Precise. $ 64.00

20. 2018 Anthill Farms Chardonnay, Peugh Vineyard, Sonoma County

Oyster shells. Pacific. Sea Salt. $ 19.00

19. 2018 Benandants Malvasia Bianca, Russian River Valley, Sonoma County

Aromatic. Heady. Refined. $ 40.00

18. 2017 Alta Colina, Keystone Syrah, Paso Robles, San Luis Obispo County

Generous. Dark. Lengthy. $ 56.00

17. 2018 Qutori Wines Syrah, Paonia, Colorado

Character. Deep. Pleasurable. $ 38.00

18. 2017 Rudd Mt. Veeder Estate Sauvignon Blanc, Napa Valley

Electric. Mountain fruit. Linear. $ 80.00

17. Crocker Starr A.V.A Cabernet Franc Blend, Napa Valley

Delicate. Powerful. Dreamy. $ 55.00

16. 2014 Agrapart & Fils, Mineral Blac de Blancs Extra Brut, France

Hazelnuts. Sweat of a dancer. Lychee. $ 124.00

15. 2016 Stefan Vetter Sylvaner, Franken, Germany

Oyster shells. Cold. Limestone. $ 19.00

14. 2019 Lola Rose of Pinot Noir, Mendocino, Russian River and Monterey

Breezy. Uncomplicated. Memorable. $ 20.00

13. 2016 Gaja Barbaresco, Piedmont, Italy

Nebbiolo goodness. Typicity. Resplendent. $ 270.00

12. 2018 Dragonette Syrah, John Sebastiano Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills, Santa Barbara County

Dazzling. Deep. Unforgettable. $ 65.00

11. 2017 Whitcraft Chardonnay, Pence Ranch, Sta. Rita Hills, Santa Barbara County

Pure. Brilliant. Unstoppable. $ 50.00

10. 2018 Jonata “Flor” Sauvignon Blanc, Ballard Canyon, Santa Barbara County

Evocative. Fragrant Changeling. Romantic.

9. 2019 Lorenza Rose, True Rose, California

Ancient vine Rhones. Mother & Daughter. Lifted. $ 22.00

8. 2016 Next of Kyn Red Blend, No. 10, Ojai, Ventura County

Spiritual. Exquisitely Balanced. Art. $ 800.00 (magnum)

7. 2019 Stolo Gerwurtztraminer, Creekside Vineyard, San Luis Obispo County

Pacific. Star Jasmine. Elegant. $ 25.00

6. 2019 Keep Wines Counoise, David Girard Vineyard, Sierra Foothills

Violets. Unabashedly approachable. Pretty. $ 28.00

5. 2018 I. Brand & Family Mourvedre, Enz Vineyard, San Benito County

Food please. Great acid. Night fall. $ 48.00

4. 2018 Thacher Cinsault, Glenrose Vineyard, Adelaida Vineyard, Paso Robles

Lovely. Meadows conjured. Balanced. $ 36.00

3. 2018 Bouchaine Unoaked Chardonnay, Estate, Napa Valley

Captures place. Ever evolving. Length. $ 33.00

2. 2017 Downstream Red Blend, Paso Robles

Collaborative. Splendid Zinfandel-based blend. Provocative. $ 200.00

1. 2014 Beta Wines Cabernet Sauvignon, Monticello Vineyard, Sonoma Moon Mountain District

Exceptional. Humility shown towards Nature. Age worthy. $ 150.00

Grounded: A chat with Napa Valley’s Josh Phelps

Ninety-nine point nine nine percent of writers don’t make a lot of money. So one of the sweetest rewards of this vocation is the research part – getting to spend time with an interview subject, visiting their hometown perhaps, or chatting with them over a cup of coffee at their favorite local greasy spoon. It’s the casual moments spent between two strangers engaged in this quasi-journalistic undertaking that can be revelatory, that adds the real human bits to the writing. 

Alas, during the pandemic, the sweetest rewards are now the most distant, the most longed for. Instead of immersing myself fully in a new setting while working on a story, getting to know the subject and their environment as well as I can, I’ve got – well – um, I’ve got Zoom. The rewards of Zoom pale in comparison to in-person interactions, but for now, video conferencing is the best and safest way we writers have to engage with interview subjects, and in comparison to the real sacrifices that are being made daily by frontline workers, teachers, remote-learning kids and their exhausted parents, and so many others, I’d say I’ve got it pretty darn good. These days, even just last winter seemed like more innocent times.

Still, I was really looking forward to interviewing Josh Phelps of Grounded Wine Company in person. I knew a bit about Josh Phelps; many years ago I worked alongside his father, the esteemed and gentlemanly Winemaker Chris Phelps, while he was directing the Special Selection program at Caymus Vineyards. I was doing the PR there. This was back in the mid-’90s, and Chris volunteered for the younger Phelps’ Boy Scout troop. A family man through and through, Chris often talked about his family and Josh’s adventures. Before joining Caymus, Chris had been at Dominus in Yountville. He has made many beautiful wines throughout his respectable career, which also included a successful stint at Swanson Vineyard. Chris continues to make wine under his own AD VIVUM label. 

Josh Phelps and I commiserated a bit via email before deciding to move our interview to Zoom. When I finally log in to chat with Phelps, he’s sitting outside RH Yountville, the Restoration Hardware Restaurant that’s a stone’s throw from my favorite Northern California dive bar, Panchas. I get sentimental as soon as he tells me where he’s sitting. I suddenly miss bars all over again. The sun is bright in a clear blue sky. The coming fires that will devastate large swaths of this beloved valley are yet unknown to us. He smiles broadly into the screen, adjusting it a bit, away from the glare. (When I follow up with Phelps much later, he is reeling from the losses suffered by close friends during the fires, and his sadness comes across even in a simple email exchange.) 

His Grounded Wine Company, or GWCo., is the umbrella under which various brands rest. They suggest something about Phelps – his curiosity about people, diverse terroirs and travel. Currently, he makes wine in three different states for his various brands, which include Steady State and Grounded by Josh Phelps (California’s Napa Valley), Collusion (Washington State’s Columbia Valley), Land Form (Oregon’s Willamette Valley), Public Radio (California’s Paso Robles) and Space Age (California’s Central Coast). Phelps, 34, is a Napa native and grew up around nature and winemaking. His closely cropped hair frames an open face and ready smile. Affable and unfailingly polite, he appears at ease in his own skin, despite the stress of the pandemic. 

RH Drexel: How has Covid slowed down the way you do business? 

Josh Phelps: Our brands are new to the market so our footprint is not huge. However, we do have a distribution network nationally, and we were fortunate to enter this phase with some strong retail partners. We have still been working hard to find new channels for the wines and to continue to grow our audience during these strange times. Obviously much of our wine that was sold in restaurants has moved to retail channels, but I’ve made it a top priority to find ways to support our restaurant partners however we can. That industry and the people who work in it are such an important part of the food and wine world. I think the good that has come out of it has been my ability to be home for the past seven months. Pre-Covid, I was traveling constantly. I was in New York quarterly, and all over the country all the time. I would visit a few states a month, sometimes more; I have not been on a plane since early March. I’m going to revisit the way I was selling wine as we have learned a lot from this. I look forward to being back on the road, but I think we will take a much more strategic approach moving forward. I have been 'meeting' with most of our national retail partners on Zoom calls. Same with distribution partners. I have done video seminars with large groups who order my wines ahead of time. While I find the lack of human contact a bit depressing, there has been some upside, and this has all been helpful with keeping up the momentum of GWCo. in the national marketplace. 

RHD: I get a kick out of knowing that you make wine outside of California. I find that really refreshing, as so many winemakers get pretty tribal about where they make wine. 

JP: When I started Grounded Wine Co. a couple of years back I had just sold my interest in a reasonably-sized, Napa-based wine brand. Between that and the fact that I grew up and live in Napa, I felt inclined to explore some regions that were new to me for this new venture. We now make wine in California, Eastern Washington and the Willamette Valley in Oregon. I have good friends in the wine business in all of these regions and had spent time visiting them over the years. My favorite part about making wine in these different places is that I get to be a part of these different winemaking communities. So much of it is about the people. 

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 RHD: Your wines can be very affordable. That was another pleasant surprise – a Napa Valley-born winemaker with modestly priced wines. Your Grounded California Cabernet Sauvignon is fifteen bucks a bottle. Most of your wines, in fact, are between 15 and 20 bucks, with the most expensive, the Steady State Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, at 50 bucks a bottle. 

JP: When I was completing college, I was getting ready to launch my first brand. Growing up in Napa you become jaded by wine pricing; the wines that my friends were making back home were not accessible to most people my age (including myself). I really felt strongly about making wines that my peers could enjoy. Over the last decade of being in the business, the idea of consumer accessibility has become even more important to me. It’s pretty cool to create a quality product that you are able to share with a large amount of people -- not just an elite group of wine people. I also do really love business in general, and for me this is a much more exciting and rewarding business model. Our primary goal is to get the wines in the hands of our customer at the most affordable price possible. 

 RHD: You came up with some really cool names for your wines. Can you tell me a little about your creative process in coming up with those? 

JP: I have a lot of fun with the branding/marketing side. Since the conception of this project, I have worked closely with a childhood friend and her husband who are Mexico City-based. I have been known to go on weeklong creative trips to CDMX where we brainstorm over amazing food and plenty of Mezcal. I am proud of the brand identity we have created. I wanted the names and labels to have a strong sense of authenticity and for each to tell a story. I think our style is classic with a modern/retro edge. We feel that, in marketing, less is more, so our simple labels are meant to be straight-to-the-point, to help showcase what is in the bottle. Obviously what's in the bottle is the most important thing. Grounded – grounded in soil, grounded in life, grounded in wine. Being from Napa, that resonated with me. The other names all fit into this Americana/classic vibe: Steady State - a nod to growing up in Napa and learning from the traditions while forging my own path; Landform and Collusion - prohibition reference; Space Age, and Public Radio - my grandfather's amateur radio call sign is on the front of the label. 

RHD: Your father is a legendary winemaker. When you started making wine yourself, did you fear being compared to him? Was it hard to be recognized for your own efforts without people comparing you to your father? 

JP: Growing up my dad was making wine at Dominus and Caymus for the most part. In more recent years he consults for a handful of producers (including Grounded Wine Co.) as well as running his own small brand, Ad Vivum. I honestly set out on a pretty different path right from the start. My dad went to wine schools in California and Bordeaux. He is a classically trained winemaker and has spent his career mostly focusing on ultra-premium Bordeaux varietals. I really gravitated towards the business side, and after attending school for business, I dove right into the more affordable wine space. I think most people have recognized my efforts as my own even though my dad and I do work together. My dad helps me as a winemaking consultant, and is involved in all blending and final decisions. I help him with his brand on the sales and business side. 

RHD: A lot of winemakers choose to describe their styles or approaches, i.e. “hands-on versus non-interventionist” or “minimal interventionist”. How do you feel about these descriptors, and do any of them apply to you? 

JP: I think my style is classic/minimal interventionist. I consider my wines to be pure expressions of the varietals and regions. We use minimal oak, and try not to produce wines that are overpowering. I like wines that are balanced and food-friendly. That being said, I make my wines with my customer in mind, not myself, so I am constantly thinking of that greater audience during the winemaking process. 

RHD: When you think about the consumer, who do you see in your mind's eye? Are they a particular age? Do they belong to a particular demographic? Does it matter? 

JP: I really don't think of age when I am making wine and positioning it. I believe the style of wine we are producing and the way we are presenting it can appeal to a large audience. I think people can get so caught up in the marketing and who they are marketing to. I try not to overthink that. We do know the demographics of the buyers in different retail channels and so it is important that both women and men are attracted to the packaging.  

RHD: You grew up in the Napa Valley, as did I. For me personally, it got to a point where I had to leave because I couldn't quite figure out how to meld the Napa Valley wine country lifestyle with my own personal preferences (a simple life, not much socializing, simple tastes). How have you maintained your perspective, having grown up in the valley, and does it ever get too "heady" for you? And, if so, what kinds of things do you do to get back on track? What other things bring you enjoyment? 

JP: That is a great question. I grew up in St. Helena about two blocks from where I live now (my parents still live in the home I grew up in). This town (and the valley as a whole) were very different just 20 years ago. I think some of the change has been positive while some maybe not so much. It is tough to find that balance as, at the end of the day, we are a hospitality industry that very much relies on tourism. I do like living here – lots of outdoor space, beautiful surroundings; much of my friends and family are here. St. Helena has a great sense of community. I think in our industry we get jaded by the dinners, expensive wines, etc. It can get really excessive. I think, like anything, it is all about balance. I do love food and enjoy my stable of restaurants here at home, as well as Asian food when I am traveling. A simple dinner at home with a bottle of wine and good friends and family is just as great, and I have been doing a lot of that these past months. 

Living in Napa (especially during Covid) we are fortunate to be able to be outside a lot. I have been mountain biking and hiking a ton. The coast is only an hour away so I like to get out that way to go fishing and spend time at the beach. In the winter I like to snowboard. I like to cook. I do enjoy traveling for pleasure, and I miss that, but this will pass. My family all lives in Northern California, and most of us are here in Napa Valley, so even with social-distancing I do see my family throughout the week. I do genuinely love to work, and you can often find me in the office in the evening with the music up enjoying a cold beer working on new projects.  I will admit I love (’90s) hip hop music, as well as more classic rock.

RHD: Do you ever go to your dad for winemaking advice? And what are the greatest lessons you've learned from him? 

JP: I very much rely on my dad for winemaking advice; he is the consulting winemaker for my company. He has taught me a lot about winemaking and his winemaking style. I am definitely more of a business person and he is more of an artist when it comes to making wine, so I think that balance is good. He has great attention to detail, and much of my success – and the success of my company – is based on our meticulous approach to making wine. 

The sun has softened just slightly behind Josh as we conclude our chat. As we’re saying goodbye, and as is the case with Zoom, I find myself inelegantly looking for a way to sign off while still saying a passing goodbye. Phelps appears to be doing the same thing; smiling while trying to close out our session. His eyes dart back and forth as he smiles, looking for that “Leave” button. We seem to leave the conversation simultaneously when suddenly the screen goes dark.

Days of Wine and Rogan

The eponymously named podcast, “The Joe Rogan Experience”, may be an ideal panacea against boredom during these pandemic days. The podcast’s host, Joe Rogan – who’s also a stand-up comedian, holds a black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and is a mixed martial arts sports commentator for the UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) – can be considered a modern day Renaissance man. His deep curiosity about the world is on full display during episodes of the JRE, during which he’ll interview scientists, psychonauts, politicians, philosophers, artists, writers and all manner of contemporary thought leaders. Rogan has amassed a staggeringly large audience, the demographic of which remains nebulous. I’m a big JRE fan, and I’m a fifty-five year old lesbian immigrant. Other fans of his include a friend of mine who is a devout Catholic, and yet another colleague who’s a firm atheist. Rogan’s fans hold in common an appreciation for his inquisitive nature, unbridled enthusiasm and natural humility.


During the pandemic, the length of Rogan’s podcasts have become somewhat more tenable. I used to have to listen to his episodes in spurts, as a single episode will often run three hours long. A recent, riveting episode with artist David Choe, during which Choe touched upon everything from his friendship with the late Anthony Bourdain to his search for a dinosaur fabled to be alive in the depths of the Congolese jungle, ran close to four hours. Lengthy JRE episodes are the ideal facilitator for the practice of decanting wine for those with a bit of leisure time on their hands.


Typically, I enjoy decanting a well-made, nuanced wine for at least three to four hours, tasting it along the way. There are just some wines, from young to middle aged that need some room to stretch. Their complexity alone begs for a bit of room and air in order to reveal the mysteries of texture, aroma and flavor. I reserve shorter JRE episodes for the decanting of much older wines, which I’ll typically begin imbibing upon decanting, as some of them will begin to tire after only one hour or so exposed to air. 


A great way to jump head long into the JRE is to listen to episodes in which Rogan’s friend, Duncan Trussell is featured. The mind behind Netflix’s animation series, “The Midnight Gospel”, is either a dyed-in-the-wool, true blue, contemporary philosopher or a complete madman. Trussell trades in the currency of vulnerability.  In turns of phrase at once tender and bawdy, spiritually provocative and profoundly mundane, Trussell serves up wisdom for the inquisitive listener. His insights can be startlingly provocative, and all the more powerful for being delivered through the prism of a wacky, imaginative sense of humor. 


There are plenty of episodes featuring Trussell on Rogan’s podcast archives and each one is entertaining and memorable in its own way. Whenever Trussell’s on, consider opening a wine that’s all about layers upon layers of nuance – a wine that requires some time in the decanter and in the glass to fully show itself. A wine of discovery like the 2017 La Flor de Jonata. A blend of sauvignon blanc and semillon, this arresting, unpredictable wine will keep you engaged for hours. 


Rogan is perhaps at his funniest and most relaxed when he’s chatting with comedian friends like Joey Diaz, a Cuban-American with a storied past, including a prison sentence for kidnapping. Diaz is known as a blue comedian, but he’s often tender and open with Rogan, and the two share an obvious affection for one another. Jessimae Peluso, another regular, isn’t afraid to open up about the death of her father, which she does with rare vulnerability, but listeners can count on Peluso to deliver hearty laughs; Rogan often laughs loudest when Peluso is on. Fans of comedy will relish in hours’ worth of podcasts with the brilliantly funny Bill Burr. My favorite, though, is Sebastian Maniscalco, whose Italian-immigrant-inspired humor is often suitable for the whole family. Maniscalco, a wiry, tense presence on his Netflix specials, is calm and retiring around Rogan. A comedian’s comedian, like Dave Chapelle, Maiscalco has the respect of his peers, and listeners can hear him relax into his success with an easy and natural modesty. Open up a chilled bottle of 2018 Arbe Garbe from the Russian River Valley, a blend of 55% Malvasia Bianca, 25% Ribolla Gialla and 20% Tocai Friulano to accompany any Rogan/Maniscalco episode. The aromatics of this wine are so lifted and fragrant that it has a nearly plaintive appeal. 


Rogan is an ardent psychonaut, and devotes serious time to studying altered states of consciousness, often aided by psilocybin, MDMA, DMT, or high doses of edible marijuana, augmented by regular visitations to a flotation tank. Rogan’s penchant for creative thinking flourishes when he hosts guests like Michael Pollan (The Botany of Desire, How to Change Your Mind), an erudite journalist whose description to Rogan of a DMT trip became so popular, the excerpts have been viewed millions of times. Dennis McKenna, the younger brother of perhaps the most widely-known psychonaut, Terrance McKenna, is a beguiling guest. Though his avuncular demeanor might suggest otherwise, McKenna is a trip himself, and the stories he shares of psychedelic experiences, and the insights that may lay therein, are riveting listening. Leading Mycologist Paul Stamets is a popular repeat guests whose disarmingly honest considerations of multiverses and a multi-dimensional world are engaging and pleasing for their confidence. A brilliant scientific mind, Stamets often plays in realms reserved for shamans, and listening to him do so is like watching someone skip along a high-wire suspended across the two impossibly tall structures of spirituality and materialism. There’s no finer wine to accompany these thought-provoking episodes than the 2018 Hubba Mushroomhead Red, a blend of 69% Carignan and 31% Syrah that is as earthy and pleasurable as it is light and bright. Oceanic and forest floor pathways converge, offering up delicate, yet persistent notes of petrichor and geraniums growing near the sea. 


A guest that continues to surprise is the comedian-turned-philosopher Russell Brand. I’ll admit that for the longest time, I thought Brand was an over-the-top Brit with a big personality and not much else, a formulaic person with a fixed life narrative, like an avatar in a video game that suddenly freezes, stuck forever in the same place, unable to proceed to the next level. Brand shattered that paradigm and has blossomed into a thoughtful, self-professed autodidact. Brand’s spiritual explorations are fodder for great conversations with the like-minded Rogan. Out of respect for Brand’s sobriety, I’ll pair any episode he’s in with a warm cup of Ceylan Uva Adawatte, a strong, aromatic black tea from Sri Lanka sold by the Canadian purveyor of fine teas, Camellia Sinesis


The Di Costanzo 2017 Monticello Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon (Moon Mountain District Sonoma County) is a gorgeous Cabernet Sauvignon, demonstrating pleasure and restraint – a perfect and elegant accompaniment to Rogan’s recent episode with actor Rob Lowe. Lowe emerges as a man comfortable in his own skin. Polite, funny and intelligent, Lowe’s storytelling prowess is on full display with Rogan, and the two share hearty, comfortable laughter with one another throughout the recent podcast. 


Listeners interested in learning about ancient civilizations and lore will enjoy having their imagination sparked by the captivating Graham Hancock, a regular Rogan guest. The British author, whose work is often referred to as pseudoscience by more dogmatic scientist (alas, dogma and science don’t mix well), offers up fascinating archeological research in a manner that is highly engaging and articulate. Rogan’s curiosity is at its peak when he hosts Hancock. A bright and evocative wine is called for during these episodes, and one will do well to uncork a bottle of the Sine Qua Non 2016 Deux Grenouilles. An exceedingly lovely and elegant white wine blend (36% Roussanne, 29% Chardonnay, 23% Viognier, and the balance Petite Manseng and Muscat), this dramatic wine contains all manner of sophisticated aromatics, which lead into a compelling, lovely texture. This wine and Hancock’s excellent storytelling capabilities are the perfect accompaniment for a sublime few hours of armchair travel. 


A recent interview with Post Malone was fun, but requires some patience, as both Rogan and Malone were admittedly high during the nearly four hour show. Both partook of cannabis and beer during the interview and Rogan arrived at the microphone already high on psychedelic mushrooms. Listening to these two bro-it-up reminded me that high people are always more entertaining when one is also high, which in this case, I was not. But, it’s an entertaining ride nonetheless, during which Malone and Rogan address a broad range of topics, including the existence of aliens, mandatory mask-wearing, and Malone’s move to Utah. A light-on-its-feet wine is called for here, and the 2019 Nowadays Nault Rieslin, by Santa Barbara County winemaker Dave Potter, is a great choice. A delicious co-fermented blend of Cinsaut and Riesling, this wine is fresh, unpredictable and adventurous. It has an uncommon aromatic and flavor profile, and the label, donning the head of an alien, is a fitting pairing with this out-there episode.  


Currently, listeners may enjoy the JRE for free on YouTube. Beginning September 1st, the JRE moves to Spotify, where users may still listen for free, but must become Spotify users. While aggressive advertising will be introduced to the platform, Rogan retains complete creative control.

Lifting Spirits: A Chat with Matt Alper and Walton Goggins of LA’s Mulholland Distilling

Initially, I was going to meet Matt Alper and Walton Goggins, of LA’s Mulholland Distilling, for an in-person interview in San Francisco. It was to have taken place in Japantown, so I began planning my driving route there. What landmarks might I share with the reader to cast the day in an appropriately urban light? Would the cherry blossom trees be in bloom? I was going to book an Airbnb I favor in the Sunset District, and envisioned myself there, sipping on a spirit late into the evening, piecing together this story after a satisfying daytime interview. 

Then, suddenly it seemed, the shelter-in-place mandates went into effect and the event was cancelled. Since then the interviews I’ve conducted have been via video conferencing from the familiar yet predictable confines of my home study. I can hardly complain. We have food in the fridge. The rent and bills are paid and I enjoy spending time with my wife, so we’re some of the lucky ones who don’t mind doing just about everything from home. 

Still, a first-world kind of disappointment descended upon me when I learned I’d have to conduct the interview via Zoom. Nothing against Zoom, but for all its fun backgrounds and efficiencies, it robs a potentially intimate situation of its…well…humanness – all those little physical manifestations and eccentricities that emerge when members of our species gather in the same space. I was promptly disabused of this rather bleak Zoom outlook the moment I hopped on my video session with Alper and Goggins. 

Alper, in a baseball cap, was doing double-duty, helping his daughter with her school work while we talked. When Goggins hopped on the session, he had to move around a bit, trying to find a good Wi-Fi connection in his backyard as his wife was indoors with their son, helping him with his schoolwork as he attended yet another day of virtual school (virtual playground not included). 

Artifice does not survive well during a pandemic. My penchant for polish and preparation during an interview went out the window the moment I accepted that my hair has gone gray and grown out. I’ve put on a few pounds lately, and I’m a bit more anxious than I used to be. Alper and Goggins, too, arrived at our video interview with an openness and vulnerability that seems part and parcel for this time we find ourselves in.

The first thing that sparked my imagination about Mulholland Distilling was the name. I spent a lot of time in Los Angeles in my twenties and thirties working the wine market there, and took many long, meandering drives on Mulholland – the kind of drives born of an impulse to hop in a car and move through a city one loves while people- and environ-watching to good music on the radio. Those kinds of drives are made for late summer nights, and on those, I’d often pull off Mulholland, up around where it cuts through Laurel Canyon, and breathe in the city’s restless, tense energy. 

Mulholland Drive is named for William Mulholland, and Irish-American civil engineer, Belfast-born, responsible for building the infrastructure that allowed for water to be brought into Los Angeles, resulting in its unstoppable trajectory towards becoming the largest city in California. Mulholland Drive runs for about 21 miles through parts of Los Angeles, some of it unpaved and not frequently accessed. The most iconic sections of Mulholland Drive include where it crosses Sepulveda Boulevard, Beverly Glen Boulevard, Coldwater Canyon Avenue, Laurel Canyon Boulevard, Nichols Canyon Road, and Outpost Drive. Traveling along this circuit, an adventurous seeker will come upon any manner of shifting architectural styles, family-owned businesses with dated storefronts, trendy neighborhoods chock-full of cafés, bookstores, breweries, cannabis dispensaries and tattoo parlors – residential areas seemingly insulated from the hectic metropolis surrounding them. 

Why the Mulholland name? Goggins responds, “What is the name that represents Los Angeles? What is the artery that ties this together? What is one of the most famous drives in the world? That’s Mulholland Drive. For me, a poor kid from Georgia, thinking about Los Angeles, Mulholland Drive was the first road I wanted to see. It’s the first place I went, even before I moved into that shitty apartment that I got. I drove up on Mulholland with a cold beer, thinking, ‘How the fuck did you get here, man?’ ”

Alper, a third generation Angeleno, adds that he did a deep dive while they were thinking about a name, and asked himself, “What is LA? Where did it come from? There was no natural port. No water. The person who made that possible was William Mulholland. He knew where every pipe was buried in this city. He was a rascal, raconteur, hard-working. Driven. But I don’t know how good a man he was.” Goggins adds, “I just read Marc Weingarten’s book, Thirsty: William Mulholland, California Water, and the Real Chinatown. It’s extraordinary. It’s about the early players that brought water to Los Angeles. William Mulholland was the most altruistic of all of them. He was the great equalizer. He believed in this city. He was an Irish immigrant who saw the potential in this City after living in a number of places in America. He got here and felt like, ‘I’m home. This is my home and I can do something with my life.’ He was an autodidact. Never went to engineering school. He never went to any school…and there would be no Los Angeles without William Mulholland.” 

“I’m not from Los Angeles, but I’ve lived here thirty years,” Goggins adds. “And while this city has taken a lot from me; it’s taken a lot from everyone who makes this journey here. It’s also given me more than it’s ever taken away.”

Alper and Goggins have been friends for twenty years and decided to go into business together after Alper attended a Father’s Day BBQ in Hollywood that proved to be fateful. While at the party, he spied an older gentleman that intrigued him. “He didn’t look like he belonged there,” Alper says. “He was in his 60s, had on this professor’s jacket with the patches on the elbows. He didn’t think the BBQ was good. Of course that’s the guy I wanted to talk to.” They struck up a conversation over whiskey, and the gent, who turned out to be the co-founder of a distillery in North Carolina, wondered aloud to Alper why it was that Angelenos drank so much but there were no distilleries in LA. Alper says he had a “light bulb moment” then. “I was a camera guy and worked on films for years and years. I was looking for a second act, and it felt like a story I could tell better than most just from growing up here and being here.” 

Gin lovers will find the traditional gin flavors of juniper and coriander in the Mulholland Distilling Gin, but aromatics of high quality, distinct French lavender, Japanese cucumber and Persian lime add unexpected nuance and pleasure. Utilizing 100% non-GMO corn, this 96 proof, gluten-free gin possesses a bracing cucumber and juniper bouquet, followed by bursts of clean and precise citrus notes on the palate. If some spirits are described as feminine and others as masculine, this gin emerges as androgynous, a balanced approachable spirit for a broad range of imbibers. “I’m kind of a chemistry geek”, Alper says. “One thing that always struck me is that cucumber and lavender are aphrodisiac scents. They really are. They cause a response in your brain and you drop serotonin when you smell them. I really love the smell of cucumber. It’s beautiful; it stimulates. On the palate, it’s floral. For me, it was about getting people who like gin to think ‘This is a cool take on it’…and for someone like me, who likes gin but who’s not a gin guy, I wanted them to want to drink gin.” 

At $19.99 a bottle, the Muholland Distilling Gin wildly over-performs.

When it comes to vodka, I’ve long been a fan of Chopin, a potato vodka, and I’m particularly fond of their Reserve Chopin, which retails for just over $100.00 a bottle. At $19.99 a bottle, the Muholland Distilling Vodka may be a new favorite. Alper and Goggins have managed to produce a vodka that is ephemeral, which is to say they’ve made a spirit that, true to its identity, is best known for what is not there. It is a clean, directed and purposeful spirit with more of a presence than a flavor profile. At 86 proof, it’s been double charcoal filtered and emerges with a faint, but noticeable confluence of evergreen and white pepper, though what the imbiber remembers is the ethereal nature of a very well-made and -blended vodka – a spirit that accompanies the ideal repast without ever demanding to be recognized. At $19.99 a bottle, it rivals vodkas four times the price. This one’s a special find. 

Mulholland Distilling might be best known, though, for their whiskey. For me, Yamazaki 12-Year-Old Whisky has become a favorite. Admittedly, though, it’s expensive, so I enjoy it as a rarity, a special occasion whiskey. For years I’ve been looking for a staple whiskey that wasn’t so costly. Maker’s Mark Bourbon Whiskey has served me well, but the Muholland Distilling Whiskey is a revelation at $32.00 a bottle. The mash bill consists of 94% corn, 4% rye and 2% malted barley. The approachability on the nose and palate is due perhaps to a nearly ghostly suggestion of vanilla bean and sweet corn. So faint are these aromatics that they never detract from the heart of this whiskey, which offers itself up within the contours of herbal rye, dried apricots and forest floor. It’s entirely unfiltered, which lends the aromatics and flavors a specificity that is more than welcomed. 

When I ask Alper about how he blends this whiskey, he says, “I know what I like in whiskeys; I know what I like in entry level, and I know what I like in the fancy stuff. But I really made an effort to imagine myself just sitting with a friend and having a sip, and what tastes good and what makes me happy. I’m not going to sit there and break it down and analyze it, as we do with wine when pairing it with food. At the end of the day, when you’re sharing it with a friend – the stories, the thoughts – this is just adding to the experience. I’m gonna do what makes me feel good and I will make my friends feel good. Maybe it will make other people feel good as it gets out into the broader world.” 

“He’s been collecting whiskey and spirits for many years before even starting this because of his love of imbibing” Goggins says of Alper. “The same with me; while I didn’t collect, I damn sure drink and I love it. I absolutely love it. For me, drinking has always been associated with conversation, with literature and art. And so it wasn’t a spirit that inspired me, it was a lifestyle of people I saw in photographs who ended a day with a celebratory drink about what they had accomplished, or what they had experienced during their travels on any specific day. For me, I always wanted to see myself in those pictures– from the time I was a small kid – I saw myself in the world, drinking in some foreign country, talking about my exploits. And I, through the grace of God and through hard work, manifested that. I wanted to be involved with Matt and build a brand that reflects that image – the way that people want to see themselves – that would fit in their hands at a price point they could afford. And you don’t need to spend $50 or $60 dollars on a bottle of whiskey or $45 dollars on a bottle of gin to talk about the end of a beautiful day you’ve had. It shouldn’t be like that. If you give people a high aesthetic for an affordable price, then they will come.” 

Oftentimes, when it comes to pricing a spirit or a wine, producers engage in long, drawn-out conversations and considerations. After they’ve come up with a baseline price, ensuring they’ve at least covered all their costs, the profit discussion comes next: Should I price my spirit or my wine super high so that I’m taken seriously? Respected? Collected? Still others ask themselves, Who do I want drinking my stuff and do I want to make something affordable so that more people can enjoy it? If it’s affordable, will that ding my ego, or will I be proud of that fact? These seemingly simple questions can result in months, if not years, of deliberation. As someone who is not only comfortable toggling between high and low brow culture but revels in the interplay found there, I prefer approachable price points that over-deliver on quality. The producer’s choice displays a rare confidence. When I ask them about the pricing on their line of spirits, Goggins says, “It’s sophistication that is affordable,” he says. “I’ve never been a guy inside the velvet rope. Ever. I’ve waited for people to wrap the rope around me. I’m still waiting to get an invitation behind the velvet rope. We just live our lives and be as honest and as forthright as possible,” he says.

Inevitably, the three of us find ourselves talking about the culture of spirits and how each of us enjoys them. “If I’m really being honest with you, it is in a foreign country, on a really far flung beach, in a shitty little abode that’s about $30 dollars a night, listening to music on my little speaker and drinking alone,” Goggins says. “Honestly, that is one of my happiest moments in my life. I’m a lonely child. I’m good at being alone even though I love my family and I love my friends. But when I’m having a couple of cocktails in the middle of nowhere, listening to really good music is maybe my happiest time.” Goggins says he likes to listen to “Tom Waits, early Waylon and Ethiopian jazz – Mulatu Astatke – and I’ve been listening to Chelsea Hotel a lot.” In Alper’s perfect imagined moment of imbibing, he’s similarly alone, “It’s funny, about being alone in a particular place at a particular time. Spaulding Gray used to talk about these ‘perfect moments’. For me, it’s a glass of tequila, with a little sangrita on the side, on a beach in Mexico. I’m in the pool and there’s nobody around. The birds are singing. Just the bougainvillea and the flowers. Everything is so amazing. It’s that moment when you’re sipping tequila and feeling the joy in life.”

I share with them that my favorite place to drink spirits is on my back porch. While there are few things I enjoy more than sharing dinner and a bottle of wine with my wife, I relish sipping on a spirit alone, as the sun sets, on our badly worn wooden deck. Like many folks, I not only relish regular moments of solitude, I find them vital to my particular stripe of “self-care”. And so on quiet evenings, as an invisible chorus of birdsong penetrates the gloaming, I enjoy sitting back and sipping, slowly and judiciously, on a distilled spirit. So often it really is about the little things. “As social as sharing a cocktail is; that culture around it, there’s nothing like doing it alone,” Alper adds. 

Alper, who is a cameraman (Avengers; Prime Suspect; Parenthood; Fast and Furious; Liar, Liar; Midnight Run) says of his partnership with Goggins, “We’ve been friends for over twenty years. We’ve shared some really seminal moments. Our marriages. Our kids being born. Mulholland for me, probably more than anything, has created a time when I get to see my friend regularly. I wouldn’t do it with anyone else.” Goggins, who is an actor (Justified, Sons of Anarchy, The Shield, The Unicorn, The Righteous Gemstones) says, “I wouldn’t either.”

The Mulholland Distilling portfolio of spirits is widely available at select retailers nationwide, and at Wine.com and Amazon.com, among other platforms.

Peake Aspirations: A Visit with Winemaker Wynne Solomon

Nature invented math, or at the very least, presaged it. An equation that amusingly demonstrates this is the Fibonacci sequence, closely associated with the Golden Ratio. The Fibonacci sequence is a series of numbers: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, and so on; the following number is always found by adding up the two numbers before it. Fibonacci numbers can be found in the petals of a flower, the leaves around a stem, the rows of pine nuts on a pinecone, rows of seeds on the sunflower, the seeds inside an orange or an apple...The Golden Ratio is often illustrated as the Golden Triangle, which contains within it equations forming a spiral. Also known as the Golden Spiral, the formation of a common rose demonstrates the spiral’s symmetry in nature. 


Though attractive to mystics and seekers longing to crack some kind of divine or mystical code, these numbers that appear in nature play a practical role in ensuring that plants grow efficiently. In succulents and cabbages, for example, the golden spiral formation is quite apparent, demonstrating how the precise space between leaves allows for the most amount of sun, air and the intake of nutrients. 


John Wagner, who studied Physics in college, and who owns Peake Ranch Winery in Santa Barbara’s Sta. Rita Hills region, chose to include the Golden Ratio on the project’s wine label and logo. Though he went on to pursue a career in finance, managing wealth portfolios, Wagner remains enchanted by the symmetrical beauty of the natural world. What better place, then, for him to land than the former site of the original Sanford Winery, which for a time became the site of the Alma Rosa tasting room? Anyone who has had the privilege of being on that land can speak to its innate power and…well, magic. I’m hesitant to use the word “magic” for I consider myself to be a bit too practical to believe in magic, but I’ll at least admit that whatever power exists up at that site is rare and commanding. For lack of a better term, it’s a piece of land that has a great vibe. 


The number of blue birds, raptors, insects and hare everywhere one looks might validate my assumption about Peake Ranch. As manicured and well-farmed as are the vineyards themselves, the wilds surrounding the site are untamed, rugged, thick with old oak trees heavy with Spanish moss. Peake Ranch is located off of the Santa Rosa Road corridor of the Sta. Rita Hills appellation. It’s the lesser traveled road in the region, which more commonly is associated with vineyard sites off of Hwy. 246. This part of the appellation is more heavily forested and remote. 


Directing winemaking at Peake Ranch Winery is Wynne Solomon, who, still in her late 20s, shows quite a bit of promise. A modest, shy bearing belies an intentional farmer and winemaker who’s serious about, and committed to, her vocation. She spends a majority of her time throughout the growing season, leading up to harvest, out in the vineyard. Solomon is a fan of what she calls precision farming. “We are really focused on analyzing all the different aspects that go into farming. We have water retention probes in the ground that assess whether or not a block needs water. So, we’re not trying to just dry farm all our pinot noir, for example, but if the soil is saturated from amazing storms and it has good water-holding capacity, we’re not going to water,” Solomon says. “It’s about trying to do what the vine needs instead of telling it what it needs. It’s about listening. And being able to respond is just as important.” 

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Peake Ranch’s vineyard manager, Mike Anderson, has been tasked with keeping a close eye on vine health. Solomon, who has been at Peake Ranch Winery since 2017, says she at first found Anderson’s intense focus on vine health “challenging at times. His focus is not as much on fruit. Obviously, he’s going to keep the fruit clean and pristine, but that’s kind of where my role comes in. He’s focusing on the vineyard being healthy, beautiful and lasting forever. We have the same goals. I need beautiful fruit and he needs healthy vines. His focus on vine health has been very eye-opening for me. I respect his focus on keeping a vineyard alive forever,” she now says.


Over the years, she has learned to deconstruct “truisms” in fine wine production she once assumed were fixed. “I used to think all lower yielding blocks were better,” she says. Solomon then observed that some of Peake Ranch’s higher-yielding blocks presented more distinctive fruit. During her first full vintage at Peake, she told herself to just “watch and observe. I didn’t want to just take things I’d learned at other properties and automatically plug them in at this property. I no longer make decisions based upon ‘just because’. I’ve really been trying to figure out what these myths are about and breaking them down.”


A graduate of Cal Poly, Solomon grew up in Sonoma. She tried to get into Davis, but didn’t get accepted so attended Cal Poly instead. She found the coastal college town of San Luis Obispo to be the perfect place to learn. From Cal Poly she went to work for local Central Coast winemaker Steven Ross, whom she now cites as a mentor who taught her about precision and cleanliness in winemaking. She was later Assistant Winemaker at Melville Winery, perhaps the most broadly known winery in the Sta. Rita Hills appellation, with a national (albeit boutique) presence in the wholesale market. She refers to Melville winemaker and vineyard manager Chad Melville as another mentor, who taught her about long, extended macerations, stem inclusion, and texture in wine. She says she found her own style studying both  Melville and Ross. 

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Solomon and I taste through the 2017s, which are in bottle, and the 2018s and 2019s out of barrels and tanks. The 2017s have a stronger oak profile, perhaps a stylistic decision by Peake’s previous winemaker, Paul Lato, critically popular for his balanced yet rich wines. Solomon finished the 2017s, but they went through elevage under Lato’s guidance. Under Solomon’s stewardship, the ’18 and ’19 vintages emerge leaner, more elegant, retrained yet offering pleasure and weight. 


We first taste through the chardonnays and pinots, and we momentarily dive into the realm of clonal material. For Solomon, clones only interest her in how they relate to one another at Peake Ranch. “We have 50 acres planted here at Peake. There are 30 different blocks. We grow four different varieties, and within those varieties we have two to nine clones in each block. So we get a lot of variation. I’ve been learning so much about different clones over the last few years – how they interact in different environments. But I can’t take the knowledge of how Pommard reacts here versus how it reacts at John Sebastiano Vineyard (Wagner’s other vineyard, off of the Hwy. 246 corridor in Sta. Rita Hills). There are some similarities: for example, the skin is thicker at both sites…typically, but it doesn’t mean it’s always thicker, and it doesn’t mean it’s a positive attribute at each site. At Peake estate, it is because those thick skins result in a very earthy, tannin-driven wine, but in a region where it doesn’t fit as well, it’s no longer a favorable feature. I can’t have a favorite clone. That’s absolutely out of the question because each clone plays so differently in any given environment. It’s never the same in two different locations.”


When I ask Solomon if she uses benchmarks to shape how she makes wine, she responds, “For me, it’s very important to taste wine in general, and I want to have the development in my palate so I can really taste nuances. That’s a job in and of itself. I don’t find myself comparing any wines to benchmarks. I wouldn’t want to not have that intuitive choice option. I learn about wines – tasting wine – based upon texture. I think tasting wines, whether local or European counterpoints, is mostly important because of texture, but I could never – would never – want to choose a winemaker or region to target and try to copy. And I’m so fortunate because John Wagner has never held up somebody else’s wine and said, “This is the wine I want to make.” 

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Though best known for their chardonnays and pinot noirs, I personally favor the Peake Ranch Winery grenaches and syrahs; their cool climate Rhônes are fragrant, vibrant, and naturally high in acid. The grenache has especially lifted floral aromas that enliven the glass. It’s a lovely expression of this variety and a truly graceful one at that. The syrah has an iodine appeal that I find irresistible, and a pronounced minerality in the nose lends it an urbane bearing. 


When Solomon isn’t in the cellar or the vineyard, she enjoys rock climbing. She and her boyfriend, also an avid climber, go climbing together during the winter, when harvest is over and they can spend more time together. Recently, the pair rented a house in Joshua Tree and invited friends. They climbed during the day, and in the evenings prepared and shared communal meals. Solomon visits Joshua Tree with the intention of observing nature the way she does when she’s out walking in the woods behind the vineyard. “It’s more about communion and observation,” she says. Among the vines, Solomon feels her interaction with nature is a more studious one; she’s still observing, but with a list of items and an endgame in mind. “But when I’m out in nature just to be out in nature, it’s about whatever flies by. What tree catches my eye? What smells surprise me? It’s that type of interaction that’s really important to me. It’s more of a free-form kind of learning about nature. I’m not creating anything out of it. I have no agenda.”

From Anna Maria Island to Calistoga: The Odyssey of Seth Cripe

Old souls have a way about them: they’re at ease, they’re empathetic, they’re suspicious, they pay attention. Comfortable navigating interior and multiple contradictions, these rare birds are interesting to be around. When I meet Seth Cripe for the first time, my immediate sense is that he possesses an old soul. One superpower of old souls is their ability to be seen and to see others; they see themselves as a part of the world, rather than apart from the world. Suspending my aversion for a moment for woo-woo type New Age jargon, I feel seen as a human being by Cripe the first time we shake hands. 

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I meet up with Cripe, 41, at the LOLA house in downtown Calistoga, the headquarters and tasting room of the LOLA brand which Cripes founded in 2008. By turns guarded and unguarded, Cripes shows me briefly around the small brick home where he receives customers, before we hop in his car and take off to visit a few of the vineyards from which he sources fruit. Mutually comfortable with silence, we drive along Napa Valley’s famed Hwy. 29 for a time, enjoying the crisp, verdant morning, not speaking at all. Cripe finally interrupts the silence to ask if the temperature in the car is okay. 

Just as Cripe points out a vineyard block of old-vine chenin blanc that he enjoys working with, I ask that first predictable question that all fledgling wine writers probably ask winemakers: So, how’d you get into wine? He starts modestly by talking about his childhood, and it becomes evident early on in our day together that Cripe’s wine brand is more than just a business; it represents his vocation, his destiny. “I had a pretty difficult childhood,” he begins. As we drive past the gleaming white façade of Sterling Winery atop a nearby hill, I learn that Cripe’s parents were divorced when he was quite young, and by the time he was eight his home life was thrown into chaos. His father suffered from severe mental illness, and when Cripe was twelve his father made the first of many suicide attempts. “Our home life just imploded,” he says. Many years later his father would succeed in committing suicide. Because mental illness is still heavily stigmatized in our society, I ask Cripe if I can mention this private family story in my article. “Yes. It is certainly a big part of who I am and how I've gotten to this point in my life.” 

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“My dad stood for things, and had a strong sense of justice,” he continues. “I think I got that from him; I love the idea of people standing for something that they believe in. I’m much more understated or insecure or something, but I aspire to at least stand for something.” His father, he tells me, also had great taste in music, and introduced him to a broad range of music, including protest songs, which Cripe admires. “Bob Dylan. John Lennon. Bob Marley. Marley said so much in his music. I listen to his lyrics and I wonder, how did he write music like that? ” He also spends a fair amount of time listening to jazz and the traditional Portuguese musical form, Fado.

When he was twelve, Cripe left the family home on Anna Maria Island, off the coast of Florida in the glistening Florida Gulf Coast waters, and moved in with an older brother who lived in the nearby fishing village of Cortez. Three old Concord grape vines, planted on the island in the 1800s by settlers, sparked Cripe’s imagination. He found himself wondering how those vines might translate into wine, a beverage he was hearing about. “I grew up on the ocean, and all my friends were fishermen. I have always been really connected to nature,” says Cripe, who contends that his discovery of wine only deepened his connection with the natural world.

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By the time he was thirteen, he was reading every wine book he could get his hands on, even diving into topics like fermentation, how different grapes grew in different terroirs around the world and the culture of wine. “Wine became my escape,” he says. “I really don’t feel like I had a lot of choices. I had no home to go back to.” He also found an escape in reading, which he did voraciously, beginning at that tender age to delve into the classics. “I loved Walt Whitman – the nature aspect. Thoreau. John Muir. And that was when I discovered Mark Twain.”

Never returning to school, at thirteen he took a job washing dishes and bussing tables at Beach Bistro, one of Florida’s top restaurants, recognized at the time for its extensive wine list. Owner Sean Murphy encouraged Cripe to familiarize himself with the many wines on the Bistro’s list, championing his nascent interest in wine. Two years later, at fifteen, he started experimenting with winemaking, picking the Concord grapes from those ancient vines. Entirely self-taught, he delved even deeper into the inner workings of fermentation and elevage. 

Fortuitously, the Long Boat Key Wine Festival (no longer in existence) was held at the Beach Bistro. Wildly popular at the time, the festival attracted winemakers from around the world. It was there that the young Cripe met vintner Clark Swanson of Napa Valley’s Swanson Vineyards, a well-regarded bon vivant who has for decades added a unique cultural flair all his own to Napa Valley’s enological landscape. “I worked up the courage to come out of the kitchen and introduce myself. I told him I’d love to come out and visit and learn more about winemaking in Napa, and so Clark gave me his business card.” 

Cripe and Swanson kept in touch for a couple of years, and by the time Cripes was seventeen he’d saved up enough money for a beat-up Subaru and, with an additional $1,200 in his pocket, he drove straight out to the Napa Valley. He set aside $300 in the glove box, allotting just a little extra money so that he could see places he’d always wanted to visit: New Orleans, a few National Parks... He hiked along the Continental Divide. 

Swanson welcomed Cripe with opened arms and introduced him to Swanson’s winemaker at the time, Marco Cappelli, who became a major influence on the young Cripe. “He had no television, spoke four languages, read a lot. And so I did the same, just reading a lot of literature. Cripe was invited to live on the Swanson property, where he remained for three years, with a one-year break during which he worked in Australia.

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Our talk is interrupted by a vineyard stop – a purely nostalgic one. Cripe drives out to see the small guest house where he lived while he worked at Swanson. From there he drives us out the Rutherford sub-appellation to show me Caymus Vineyards where, after leaving Swanson, he took a job in the cellar, remaining there for seven years. Every winter while he worked at Caymus, Chuck Wagner, owner and winemaker, sent the young Cripe to Burgundy for four months so that he could learn about high-density planting and cellar practices. “France is the leader in multi-function machines – tractors that go over the row, have sprayers in the back, all of these attachments that are part of the same tractor. We brought a lot of that technology over from there. Caymus and Opus One brought the first Bobards to the Napa Valley.”  France’s Bobard remains a leader in high-clearance tractors, harvesting machines and other vineyard equipment that are able to navigate narrow vineyard rows.

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After leaving Caymus, Cripe made time to return to an original love – surfing – this time off the Sonoma Coast. “I’m 41, but I still surf Waimea and Mavericks,” he tells me. A love of the Sonoma Coast and a long-standing relationship with a pinot noir grower on Bloomfield Road in Sebastopol led to the founding of LOLA in 2008. The first wine Cripe made under his LOLA label was a low-sulfur, natural wine that he could not sell at the time. This was over a decade before natural wine would become popular stateside. “I wanted to stand for quality. I wanted to make wines that have integrity and purity at good price points that I could afford to drink. That caused an issue as well with that style of wine. I priced it at $30.00, and at that time tastemakers did not consider relatively affordable pinots as seriously as more expensive ones.” This was just before the financial crash, when words like “allocation” and “luxury” were still bandied about cavalierly and luxury wines were considered more nuanced than affordable ones. “It’s just not me to be like, the ‘elite’ side of wine,” he says.

“We’ve changed the style of our wines a little bit, Cripe says. “They’re still under-ripe, high acid, not a lot of oak, but they’re a little more finessed now. “Still,” he says, “it’s been a real struggle. It’s just very hard to create an honest product, hand-made, that is affordable.” More than a decade later, Cripe’s Sonoma Coast chardonnay, a palate-invigorating white wine, is priced at $22.00. In that pricing space, LOLA wines are often competing with heavily oaked, slightly sweet chardonnays. I have always found it curious that the trade, particularly sommeliers, are excited when they find a good value from Burgundy, Cornas, Jura or the Loire. “Wish American winemakers would do that,” they’ll say about the affordable price points. Then, when true American vignerons price their wines similarly, influencers in the trade are reluctant to even try them, assuming incorrectly that a $22.00 bottle of chardonnay from California must be a sweet, heavily-oaked, vanilla-like, one-dimensional wine. 

At one of his lowest moments, early on in 2009, just a year into his brand, Cripe was sitting on 700 cases of pinot noir that hadn’t sold. He was looking at the reality he’d have to fold his barely launched brand and walk away from a dream. A friend of his at the time – whom he refers to as JP, a restaurant co-owner that mentored him in his youth in Florida – fell ill of liver disease and died shortly after his diagnosis. Unbeknownst to Cripe, before he passed, JP introduced LOLA wines to a Florida distributor, who, following JP’s death, called Cripes and placed a purchase order for all 700 cases. This one single order rescued LOLA and set into motion a series of events that would lead to Cripe’s other business, Cortez Bottarga. 

Bottarga is salt-cured and sun dried caviar from the grey mullet. It all originates domestically near Cripe’s childhood home on Anna Maria Island, and has been an economic boom to the local fisherman of Cortez. While making frequent market-visits to Florida to help move those 700 cases he’d just sold, the bottarga business he had started with his brother modestly two years earlier really began to take off. “We’re the only producer in the US,” Cripe says. “Ironically, I guess, we’ve never made one phone call to sell that product. And we can’t make it fast enough. It’s really helped with LOLA, because it’s opened up a network of restaurants.” Food lovers will recognize the names of several chefs for whom Cortez Bottarga has become a staple. They include Thomas Keller (The French Laundry, Per Se), Kristopher Kostow (The Restaurant at Meadowood), Frank Stitt III (Highlands Grill, Bottarga), Michael White (Marea, Ai Fiori), Daniel Boulud (Cafe Boulud, Bar Boulud), Justin Smillie (ll Buco Alimentari, Upland), Sean Brock (Husk), Donald Link (Herbsaint, Pesce) and more too numerous to list. 

Cripe and I have been tootling around in his car for a while, visiting vineyard sources, so we decide to head back to the LOLA house and try his wines, including both the LOLA Collection and his Artisanal Series. Cripe brings a generous portion of bottarga to the table, along with salted butter and a simple baguette. After spreading a layer of butter on the bread first, at Cripe’s direction, I add a few glistening, saffron colored pieces of bottarga atop the bread. It’s surprisingly very similar in taste to Osetra caviar; imagine for a moment a very fine Osetra-grade caviar with the consistency of a medium-to-slightly hard cheese, and what you have is a hedonistic, mouthful of salty ocean brine and life. If you enjoy caviar, particularly Osetra-grade, Cortez Bottarga is worth seeking out. Cripe and his brother have expanded their line of products to include Gulf Tuna Mojama, a locally canned tuna, as well as locally canned octopus and other seafood conservas from Cortez, all offered for sale at the LOLA house. “We’re trying to add some more old world artisanal Euro-flare to the Napa Valley, showcasing our wines and seafood conservas from where I grew up.”

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Tasting Highlights:

Across the board, the wines of LOLA suit my personal palate. Refreshing to the nose and palate, they uniformly possess a healthy dose of natural acid, taste bright and invigorating, and are relatively affordable. I can’t say there was one in the bunch I didn’t care for, but here are some of the stand-outs for me: 
2017 LOLA Chardonnay, Sonoma Coast: There’s a noticeable hint of brine and freshly cut apple on this chardonnay. Refreshing and balanced, it’s great with food or as a crisp glass of wine to enjoy while you’re cooking dinner. Save some for your guests, is what I’ve learned. $22.00

2017 LOLA Pinot Noir, California: A blend of vineyard sources from Monterey, Russian River Valley, the Sonoma Coast and Mendocino, this wine has terrific texture and structure. A serious and considered pinot noir, it exhibits fresh, bright high-toned blue and black fruits on the nose and palate, as well as refined notes of cedar and petrichor. Refreshingly balanced. $22.00

2018 LOLA Artisanal Series Monterey Dry Riesling: A nuanced, unpredictable white wine, this riesling knocked my socks off, but it may not be for everybody. There’s 30% skin-contact on this wine, and it may be best understood and appreciated by folks who don’t mind being challenged when it comes to concepts like typicity and varietal character. It’s unmistakably a riesling, but unlike others I’ve had from California. The nose on this wine evolves continually, and demonstrates everything from petrol to summer jasmine and tangerine. $32.00

2018 LOLA Artisanal Series, St. Helena Chenin Blanc: This invigorating, inviting chenin blanc found its provenance just north of St. Helena, growing on 45-year-old vines. Exuberant, aromatic and with a long finish, this is an ideal wine for the table; palate cleansing, high in acid, and balanced to accompany a meal, rather than overpower it. $38.00

2018 LOLA Artisanal Series, St. Helena Zinfandel: 
A long-time fan of zinfandel, this was my favorite red wine in the LOLA line up. Cripe has produced an elegant, electric zinfandel with nuanced aromatics that by turns recall a Redwood grove, briar patch fruit and the perfectly aged cigar under an earthy Maduro leaf. 

Floating Downstream with Justin Smith

Dust Kills. 

Or so says the first sign I see as I enter the Saxum Vineyards estate in Paso Robles. A few days before I visit, I receive an email from an employee asking that I please drive 5 mph on my way in as I head up to the winery. The driveway is feet from meticulous vineyards rows of vines already bearing young, tender fruit, and the ground is dry and powdery. (If you haven’t driven 5 mph of late, it’s worth doing, even for just a short while. It’s a gentle, Zen-like pace and a nice lesson in slowing down). 

When I arrive at the winery, I’m greeted by Justin Smith and his dog, Luna, a sweet rescue Pit Bull mix. The winery is an airy, modern building flooded with natural night that illumines, in the distance, caves carved into an estate hillside. Before entering the barrel room, one passes through a lounge area possessing the bohemian mood of a ’70s-era Laurel Canyon living room with Moroccan influences. A formidable vinyl collection and impressive stereo set-up complete the space, giving it a laid-back, welcoming vibe. Smith, fit and youthful at 49, appears jovial and excited about his new project – Downstream Wines – a collaboration between Smith, Sasha Verhage and Philippe Cambie. 

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Cambie is a highly-regarded consultant from Southern Rhône, with clients worldwide. Considered a master blender, Cambie brings his nearly savant-like talent to Downstream. Verhage is the conduit that brought Smith and Cambie together in 2015, and his love of Southern Rhônes precedes him. “Sasha put us together,” Smith says. “He told me that Cambie wanted to work me, but he wanted to do something Zinfandel-based. I loved that because it’s kind of California’s heritage variety, and I think he sees a lot of parallels between Zinfandel and the Grenaches he works with so much. He didn’t want to repeat what he does in Chateauneuf du Pape, and wanted to put a California twist on things. So we tracked down some old Dusi Zinfandel.” The Dusi Vineyard is among one of Paso’s most historic sites, farmed since 1945 by the Dusi family. 

“Philippe likes to come through right when things are done with malo, usually in early spring and before we’ve blended up our wines, when things are still in individual lots. We put about thirty-two different lots in front of him in groups of four – four Zinfandel lots, four Mataro lots, and so on. He writes his notes down, and then just says, ‘I want 600 L of this, and 400 L of that and 200 L of that.’” Smith says Cambie’s decisions are definitive, and he doesn’t change his mind. When Smith and Verhage tasted the final 2016 – their debut release – Smith says they looked at each other and said “How did he do that?!” Smith describes it as “delicious and ready-to-go.” And indeed it is. Smith pours me the 2016 Downstream: a blend of 76% Zinfandel, 8% Syrah, 6% Mataro, 6% Petite Sirah and 4% Tempranillo, raised in 400 L neutral wood puncheons.

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Drinking this wine proves to be an emotional experience for me. I have long revered Zinfandel, and to see it elevated to this degree, as winemakers like Paul Draper (Ridge), Mike Officer (Carlisle) and Tegan Passalacqua (Turley) have done, is poignant. There’s a pronounced vitality and verve to this wine. It’s fleshy and generous, but an underlying strand of salinity keeps it fresh and definitive on the palate. At the back of the palate, and just before the finish, this wine broadens beautifully, highlighting the wine’s spicy and savory notes, along with its high-toned blue fruit notes. It’s a stellar wine.

I find myself wondering how Cambie can blend up such an ineffable beauty, and Smith says, “He writes it down and then drops the mic and off he goes. I don’t make wine specifically for him. I don’t know how his brain works. He finds a way to blend them up that’s approachable. He wants them to be delicious and pleasurable.” The Dusi Vineyard Zinfandel announces itself pretty much from the get-go on the 2016 Downstream. “We did the Dusi Zin whole-cluster,” Smith tells me, “which gets all that spice coming out of the stems. I think that’s unique for a Zinfandel – that cool pepper spice, which we loved in the 2016 vintage.” 

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The packaging presentation of the 2016 Downstream wine is formidable and delicate all at once. Each order includes three 750 ml bottles and one magnum, presented in a large, wood box with the Downstream artwork prevalent throughout the packaging. Artist Joe Kalionzes, a local Paso Robles Spanish and Art teacher, designed the nearly ethereal packaging. The debut collection is just under $1,000.00 and comes to about $200.00 a bottle. 

I am glad the Downstream wines are priced at $200.00 a bottle. Why shouldn’t a bottle that is largely Zinfandel or Grenache from the United States command that price? If extremely well-farmed and well-made, shouldn’t these wines merit as much as a fine Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Noir? There’s long been a kind of grape racism that exists among the trade. Unfortunately, certain buyers and sommeliers have tried to pass this perception along to the consumer. It’s silly, really, that people would place a value judgment on a product of nature. It’s like me saying, “Passion fruit juice is really where it’s at. If you like mango juice, then you’re a loser. You don’t have good taste.” Value judgments like these are arbitrary in the end. 

Especially guilty of these types of value judgments are a particular brand of “influencer” (what an awful word) and “gatekeeper” (thankfully, these change nearly every year) who hold Old World wines, particularly Burgundy, in such high esteem that they’d rather disparage other varieties, and domestic wines in general, than step outside of their comfort zone to try something new. When they’re trying to impress colleagues, they’ll show up to an event with an expensive Burgundy. Wouldn’t it be refreshing to see a gatekeeper arrive at a dinner party or wine tasting with a Zinfandel from California’s Central Coast? Of course, that kind of move takes confidence. 

When I ask Smith about the Downstream name, he says, “We’d been thinking about what to call it for forever, but nothing was sticking. And then I had a dream: I was driving down the 101, past Atascadero, about to get off the freeway to go to In-N-Out Burger, and it hit me.” In his dream, he exclaimed, as he does now recounting it, “Downstream! We’re going to call it Downstream! I can’t wait to call Sasha and tell him that I found the perfect name: Downstream!” When he woke up, he felt it was the perfect name. And though he says the name didn’t hold a lot of meaning immediately after the dream, Smith now sees parallels between the name and his creative intentions. Smith’s portions of the proceeds from Downstream will be donated entirely to local charities. “I’ll be sending that money downstream,” he says. He thinks his subconscious was already aware of hidden meanings in the Downstream name before his conscious mind caught up. He quotes a Beatles lyric from “Tomorrow Never Knows” as another possible inspiration for the name: Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream. 

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The way Cambie create blends has caused Smith to look at his vineyard sources through new eyes. “I don’t spend a lot of time on the crafting of my blends. For me, it’s about the vineyard sources. And we have barrel lots that best exemplify the vineyards I work with, like James Berry. My wines are not so much crafted as blends as they are crafted by the vineyards themselves.” Cambie, Smith says, is less concerned with the vineyard sources. Instead, he assesses the various lots presented to him with regard to how well they’ll go together. Smith appreciates the purity of an approach unfettered by value judgments about a vineyard that one might expect to perform in a certain manner. “It frees you up in a way,” he says. 

Smith shares Cambie’s analogy for creating a blend, a talent Smith regards as Cambie’s profound gift. “Philippe says, ‘it’s as simple as making a sandwich. You taste through, and one wine is the bread. The other is the meat. One is the mustard, and you want just a little bit of mustard. This wine is the lettuce and, this one, the tomatoes. And this one is the butter. And this one is the butter, too, so you don’t need both of these. You’re not going to put five pieces of bread together, even if you like bread, because five slices of bread does not make a sandwich.’ ” As he shares this analogy, Smith’s eyes brighten; he seems genuinely moved by this collaborative project. 

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His own Saxum Vineyards label has been wildly successful, a critical and consumer darling. I wonder aloud if Smith feels pressure to see the Downstream collaboration succeed as much as Saxum has. “It’s kind of the opposite. I think of Downstream as Philippe’s wine. This is a wine I can sit down and enjoy at the table while wondering about what he was thinking when he created the blend.” Smith admits that it’s hard to enjoy his own wines in that same way, as he’s always tasting them critically. “I’ll taste my wines and think, ‘Oh, I shouldn’t have done that, or I should have done this differently.’ With this project, it’s more fun and less pressure.”

We next taste the 2017 Downstream, which is quite different from the 2016. It shares the ’16’s seamless texture, structure and salinity, but departs from there with more Grenache than Zinfandel in the finished blend. It’s another arresting effort, with dried citrus rind and wild plum cherry notes nearly jumping out of the glass. An energetic wine with plenty of tension, it still delivers great pleasure and balance. If these young Downstream wines have a hallmark, it’s their structural integrity, generosity of fruit and a pronounced saline signature. The 2018 is finished but still in barrel. Yet again, Cambie has come up with an entirely different, yet equally lively blend. The three Downstream wines I’ve just tasted have about them an unpredictability. Their enigmatic nature stems from the pleasure principle that is present across vintages and the balance with which that pleasure is delivered. These wines prove that you can experience deep hedonistic pleasure as well as linearity and delineation in a wine. 

Currently only one Downstream wine will be released each vintage, and Smith predicts it will remain this way. And when I ask if fruit will ever be sourced from other parts of California, Smith is quick to point out that he hopes Downstream always finds its provenance in the soils of Paso Robles. “My whole thing is this little pocket of Paso. All of our vineyards are near here. I grew up here and I have a lot of pride in what can be done here. A lot of my impetus behind making wine is to showcase Paso.” 

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As we wrap up our visit, Smith pours me a Gewürztraminer made by his son Colin, 22, with guidance from Smith’s father and no assistance from Smith himself. It’s a refreshing, bright white, sourced from the coastal Stolo Vineyard, and we sip it as Smith talks about his other creative undertakings. “I’m fermenting hot sauce right now – gardened specifically for the various peppers that go into fermented hot sauce – and we’ll bottle that. And we’ve got bees that we tend for honey. I hunt wild boar and deer and make sausage. I realized I like to make things to share with people.”

Colin Smith has made a lovely (albeit not for sale), delicious wine. The grape doesn’t fall far from the vine in this family. Smith is visibly proud of his son’s wine, and while he sends me home with what’s left of the Downstream wines we’ve opened, he’s quick to grab the Gewürztraminer for himself as he walks me out. “My wife needs to taste this. It’s pretty good!”

Rise Up: The Wines of Bret Urness at Levo

Brett Urness, 28, is a hardworking Millennial. And no, that’s not an oxymoron. Indeed, Urness is just one of many hardworking, creative Millennials trying to carve out their way in this harsh world. I used to be a Millennial, back in the day. When I was Urness’s age my generation were called Slackers by media and marketing pundits. The definition of a Slacker (a Gen-Xer by another name) is “a person who avoids work or effort.” Sound familiar? It appears that any young generation in this country, be they “hippies”, “slackers”, “hipsters” or “Millennials”, are – at least according to “The Man” – just unmotivated youngsters. It never ceases to amaze me that the media and marketing types who are so quick to criticize an entire generation are also relentless in their pursuit of extracting money from the very generation they’re boxing-in with de-humanizing labels. Luckily Urness doesn’t pay much attention to labels. He’s keeping his head down, making good wine.

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I meet up with Urness at his urban winery, Levo, in Tin City – a grouping of quasi-industrial buildings just outside the township of Paso Robles that make- up a vibrant neighborhood comprised of wineries, tasting rooms, a distillery, a brewery, a bang-up ice cream shop, a pasta maker and a number of other curiosities. It’s a fun place to hang out and popular with visitors from the Southland and the Bay Area. On a recent weekend, the visitors with whom I chatted were mostly from Los Angeles, Big Sur and San Francisco. Levo offers a stellar line up of wines produced from Santa Barbara County fruit. Urness chose Paso Robles over Santa Barbara County for his home-base because Santa Barbara rents proved too high. “I could either have a tasting room in Santa Barbara, or a winery in Paso Robles. With three offices and a tasting room, I only pay $1 a square foot in Paso.”

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He sources much of his fruit for his mostly Rhone-inspired line-up from Santa Barbara County’s Ballard Canyon, a region coveted for its Rhône varieties from vineyard sites like Kimsey, Stolpman and Harrison Clark – all vineyards from which Urness sources fruit. “All of my vinous heroes are there. Folks like Maggie Harrison [formerly of Sine Qua Non, and now with Lillian and Antica Terra wines] get fruit at Stolpman,” he tells me. He’s also very fond of the storied Kimsey Vineyard. “I love what Matt Dees is doing in Ballard Canyon, at Jonata and Kimsey Vineyard. His wines are classics. And he’s such a great guy. I admire what he’s doing: rich, beautiful, fresh wines.”

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His Levo wines are known for their aromatic lift and varietal delineation. The etymology of Latin verb levō means “rise, elevate and lift up.” Urness tells me, “Stylistically, I aim to make rich, structured, voluptuous California red wines that represent the dynamic and vast Central Coast without sacrificing varietal correctness, electricity and ‘lift.’ ”

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Naming a wine brand is a tremendous undertaking. First, one must find a name that hasn’t already been taken – an increasingly hard task considering there are currently ten thousand bonded wineries in the United States, and that number increases by the day. Secondly, it’s a deeply personal undertaking, for a wine brand name will, hopefully, last for decades if not generations, so it’s a crucial decision. Urness came about his poetically. “My first wine job was in my home town of Eagle, Idaho. I grew up off a road named ‘Floating Feather’ so I always thought it would be cool to reference my roots in our name. Levo is a small nod to where the journey began, in ‘Eagle’, Idaho, off ‘Floating Feather Rd.’ Then, when I was 21 years old, I was I studying Business at Santa Barbara City College and also taking flight lessons at the local airport. I eventually got to the point where I had to do a solo flight, and it was a day I'll never forget. I remember hearing the tower say ‘172 Bravo Romeo, clear for take-off,’ so I buried the throttle and rattled down the runway in an old Cessna. There was no instructor in the seat next to me as he had been so many times before. I hit rotation speed, pulled back the yoke and the wheels left the ground. The feeling of ‘taking off’ or leaving the pavement that day was a crazy feeling of absolute freedom, fear and excitement all at once. There was no turning back, I was on my own and the sky was the limit. When I began this wine project and needed to name it, I couldn't get the solo flight experience out of my mind as I felt it was so metaphorical to starting a winery. When I came across the word ‘levo’ I knew it was a perfect fit.”

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Though Urness began making wine in Idaho at the tender age of 18, it wasn’t until he moved to Santa Barbara County and got a cellar job in the Funk Zone – downtown Santa Barbara’s urban wine trail – that Urness caught the wine bug in earnest. Carr Winery, where he worked, also owned a vineyard management company at the time, so Urness was able to get out into vineyards to work. “They would drop us off with the crew and we’d prune for about nine hours a day. I did that for three summers, and that’s when I really got into the farming aspect of winemaking. At the same time, I was trying a lot of great wines for the first time: Jaffurs, Whitcraft, Ojai, Tensley. These wines were so inspiring.”

When Urness told his parents that all he wanted to do was to make wine, they encouraged him to apply to a college that taught winemaking and viticulture. “I went to my counselor and told her I wanted to apply to Cal Poly, and she laughed in my face and said, ‘Buddy, you have a 2.8 GPA!’ ” Even though he received all As the following semester, his grade point average only rose to 3.0. He applied to Cal Poly, Fresno State, Davis; he couldn’t get in anywhere. That’s when Urness’s father, who loves wine, encouraged him to take his passion more seriously. With the help of his parents, he purchased four barrels and a bit of fruit. “I’m so lucky to have the parents I have. They were super cool about it. My dad said, ‘if you’re not going to school, then learn by doing.’ ” Urness made four barrels of Sangiovese his inaugural year, but ended up declassifying all of the juice because it didn’t meet his standards. “I learned a big lesson that year. You have to buy really good fruit to make a really good wine. My family ended up drinking most of it.”

Urness was “bummed” at the time; wanting to make wine but also feeling down because college didn’t pan out, so his mother suggested he work a harvest in Portugal, where a family friend had an import business. “I got off the plane and these two Portuguese guys I’d never met before picked me up and literally drove me to Vinho Verde, where they were making wine at the time. On that day, I put on my work boots, and from there on out made wine every day for the next four months.” Urness toggled between the Alentejo and the Douro, where he made red wines, and Vinho Verde, where he made white wines. That was during the 2011 vintage, and Urness learned the ropes quickly, often working by himself in remote cellars. Upon his return to the states, Urness felt more confident in his winemaking, and so with the help of winemaker Matt Brady (formerly of Jaffurs, now at Samsara) he was introduced to iconic grower Jeff Newton of Coastal Vineyard Care Associates, where he forged pathways towards good fruit sources. He was only 20 years old at the time. Newton pointed him towards Kimsey, a nascent vineyard that has since then produced highly coveted fruit. He told Urness then, “This vineyard is going to be famous!” And indeed, over the past 8 years the Kimsey Vineyard has become one of the most coveted sites for Rhône varieties in all of Santa Barbara County.

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Urness has a purposeful hand on the aesthetic of his wine brand, from the tasting room design to individual labels that change every year, ala Sine Qua Non. It’s obvious Urness is a creative. He looks forward to working on his labels each year, and they reflect a strong, clear and original creative voice. “In the beginning, I didn’t want to pigeon-hole myself, so I thought, ‘I’m just going to put cool labels on stuff.’ I thought of it as a fling-thing, like I’d always have to work for someone else to support myself. I didn’t really have grand ambitions for my own wine brand at the time. I thought, ‘no one’s really watching what I’m doing so I’m going to have fun with it.’ I didn’t take myself too seriously.” Urness says he doesn’t know, from year to year, what his labels will be. “I just want to go out and live life and hopefully something cool happens, or maybe I read a great book, or a read a great poem, or I listen to a great record…and some idea will pop into my head.”

Now, Urness admits, the process is more intentional. “If I’m in San Francisco and I see a great piece of street art, I’ll take a photo of it for inspiration. Now I’m just so used to rolling with that mentality. It’s one of my favorite things to do. Because winemaking is always fun and challenging, and I’m freakishly in love with wine, but I also love other art – paintings, music, and all of that –maybe even a little more, so for me it’s just been so fun to have that personal challenge every year of trying to be better at being more artistic. And I think you have to be vulnerable if you want to make something special. A lot of people can make good wine, but if you have that aesthetic leaning, too, then I think your label can help tell a story.”

Urness wants his bottles to be “the ones you don’t throw away. Like Devil Proof, their 2015 Rockpile Ridge Malbec, that lady smoking that cigar, or Realm or Sine Qua Non. When you see these special bottles, and then you open them up and the wines are also delicious, well, that’s a rare experience.” Urness says that with each label, “it’s almost like creating a new brand each time, because we have to trademark the name and develop a whole new package.” Urness challenges himself to do one creative thing each day. “It’s like going to the gym, but for creativity.” Urness also finds customer service oddly inspiring and creative work. His business model is nearly 100% DtC (that’s Direct-to-Consumer), and his wines are widely available to consumers around the United States who live in the states he’s licensed to ship to, which are considerable. Visitors who stop by his tasting room adjacent to his winery and crush pad will find a modern, singular vibe all Urness’s own.

“Bret’s just so dedicated,” says his Assistant Winemaker, Alex Baer. “He loves showing people the cellar throughout the day. He’ll say, ‘I just got this wine into tank and we’re about to go to bottle. Check it out!’ ” Urness says he can’t help himself; he loves being with customers, but that makes his job a bit harder, as, at the end of the day, there’s still work to be done. Any work he didn’t accomplish while hanging out with visitors needs to be done in the evenings: pulling composites, making blends, cleaning, whatever the case may be. “We want to level-up this year. There are a lot of things we can do better,” Urness says.

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When I ask him if he’s a stylist or non-interventionist, he says, “I’m a wine lover. If you give me a glass of Beaujolais, I’m happy. Or a Chablis. Or Natural Wine. I love Natural Wine. But I love big wines, too. That’s the hardest part for me; I love all wines, so for me to choose a style is really hard. It’s also hard to choose varieties. Because I want to make Pinot Noir. I want to make Chardonnay. I want to make Gamay. I want to make everything! So my biggest challenge as a winemaker has been to choose a voice and a path for our brand. That’s what I’ve tried to do over the past few years. Rhônes have kind of grabbed me by the heart; I love them. As far as style goes, I like making California wines as long as they’re not too big. They need to have some electricity behind them. Some verve. It’s easy to be the ripest guy…wait until everyone picks and then wait two more weeks. I like drinking wines that are balanced. They have to be varietally correct.”

My favorite Levo wine is the DreamCrxsher, a 100% Petite Sirah from the iconic Stolpman Vineyard in Ballard Canyon. For its immensity of flavors, it offers a great acid backbone and a tense structure that prevents it from ever being too big or over-the-top. I tell Urness it’s my favorite wine he makes. “It’s my dad’s favorite, too,” he says. Harvest has become a family affair, with Urness’s parents coming out from Boise to reside with him for at least two months, during which time his mother cooks daily harvest lunches for the crew while his dad performs pump-overs, cleans and does whatever else is required to help keep the cellar churning during harvest. “He always asks me how many tons of Petite Sirah we were able to get. He really likes that wine.” By Urness’s own admission it’s a polarizing wine. “People either like it or they don’t like it. Petite Sirah doesn’t have much of a home, and when I do think of it having a home, I think of the United States as its home,” Urness says.

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For the remainder of a long afternoon, I taste through barrels and bottles of Levo wine, and leave the winery with a skip in my step. Urness, who has been unfailingly polite over the course of our afternoon, is also funny, well-versed in literature, music, popular culture and art, and a terrific conversationalist. Wine seems to provide an intersection for all of Urness’s interests. It’s obvious to anyone who stops by to visit him that he’s found his purpose.

“If I could have for the rest of my life what I have now, I’d be happy,” he tells me.

The next day, I receive an email from Urness wherein he shares with me one of his favorite poems, “From Blossoms” by Li-Young Lee. It hangs in his office in the winery and inspires him. “I just replace peaches with grapes,” he tells me:

From Blossoms

From blossoms comes

this brown paper bag of peaches

we bought from the boy

at the bend in the road where we turned toward  

signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,

from sweet fellowship in the bins,

comes nectar at the roadside, succulent

peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,

comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,

to carry within us an orchard, to eat

not only the skin, but the shade,

not only the sugar, but the days, to hold

the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into  

the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live

as if death were nowhere

in the background; from joy

to joy to joy, from wing to wing,

from blossom to blossom to

impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

The Pulse of Napa Valley’s Crocker & Starr

Pam Starr is game. For anything. While a moody, wintry sky looms above the Crocker & Starr estate, Starr is in a positively sunny mood, wearing a bright yellow jacket that mirrors the color of the wild mustard cropping up between vineyard rows. From the start, it’s tough to keep up with Starr. She meets me in the cellar, but is soon rushing off to meet with an ailing neighbor who’s made his way to the winery to say hello and receive an encouraging hug. While his wife stands by observing him with Starr, the older neighbor shares his health woes while she tells him repeatedly how great he looks. She won’t rush him along, and gives him her full attention. Later she apologizes for the delay as we head to her car for a tour of the estate. She speaks so quickly, she often has to pause to catch her breath. Her hands also do a fair amount of talking, and when she’s not talking, she’s throwing her head back in deep laughter or waving here and there to employees. In other words, Starr is a force of nature.

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When speaking about the estate vineyards, Starr frequently anthropomorphizes them. “I met these vines in 1996,” she says of a gnarly block of vines that are 45 years old. She places her hand on a vine, as if taking its pulse, and pauses in silence for quite a few seconds. A confident woman, she is unapologetic about her spiritual connection to these vines, and doesn’t seem to care that this practice might seem eccentric. “We need to have a lot of respect for these vines because they have to endure tractors driving past occasionally. I think the vines appreciate that we use sustainability as our form of viticulture, and I think sustainability also encompasses organic farming. You can be certified organic, but you don’t have to be sustainable. You can be sustainable, but not be certified organic. We’re not certified anything but “green.” We don’t use any herbicides or pesticides here. We tolerate high weeds so that we don’t have to drive tractors much. Ladybugs…butterflies…birds… They all love it here.” And in fact, as she’s talking, the wildlife surrounding us proves her right. I see numerous butterflies flutter by and, as an avid bird watcher I can’t help but be amazed by the chorus of birdsongs accompanying our visit. Bluebirds, finches, mourning doves, sparrows, acorn woodpeckers, tree swallows, blue jays, raptors, and crows alight on vineyard posts all around us.

“I’m on a journey of terroir,” Starr tells me. “That’s been my journey. I’m very fortunate to be on a path where I produce wines from a pinpoint on a map. I try to express the traits of this place, and get myself out of the way. I’m a classicist because I think classicists were meant to be guides. To be an effective guide, I have to be where the fruit is grown. I’m in the vineyard bringing wines from a pinpoint on a map into the bottle.” The pinpoint Starr alludes to is “the narrowest part of the Napa Valley. We’re in St. Helena, 21 miles North of Napa. These soils were made by the lower slopes of the nook made by Spring Mountain and the Mayacamas mountain range.” She continues, “It’s all about choosing a path and then following it where it leads. I never thought I’d be a business woman for myself. Never thought I’d co-own a winery because I knew the financials didn’t make sense, but when there’s passion involved, a decision doesn’t have to make sense.”

Crocker Starr was established in 1997 by Pam Starr and Charlie Crocker. At the time, Crocker, now in his 80s, was working out of One Post, an iconic San Francisco office building located at McKesson Plaza. Crocker descends from one of California’s oldest and most influential families. His great grandfather, also Charlie Crocker, spearheaded construction of the Central Pacific Railroad, completed in 1868, which began the extraordinary growth that transformed California into an economic dynamo. Crocker and his wife Lucinda acquired the historic Dowdell property, located at the end of Dowdell Lane in St. Helena, in 1971. Crocker enjoyed slowly restoring the historic property while running BEI Technologies, which specialized in electronic sensors developed to provide electronic stability control in automobiles, and BEI Medical Systems, which developed medical devices for women’s health care. He sold both companies a few years ago, and now enjoys woodworking at the estate, as well as driving his old ’66 Ford truck around the property or occasionally hopping on a tractor.

Starr met Crocker at One Post ostensibly to discuss potentially purchasing fruit. When she got off the elevator at the 25th floor in her best “winemaker jeans” she assumed their meeting would be a very brief one. Three hours later, they had shaken hands and decided to start a winery together. Crocker admired the wines Starr was making at Spottswoode at the time, and Starr immediately took to Crocker’s plainspoken and straight-forward manner. It didn’t hurt that she coveted the fruit coming off Crocker’s estate.

Though all of Starr’s wines are intentional, vibrant and very balanced, I favor the Crocker & Starr Cabernet Francs. They are glorious representations of this underrated variety, and are the very definition of tension, precision of flavors, great structure and a texture that begs for a wide host of foods. This could be because there’s a note of cardamom in these Cabernet Francs, which may be their hallmark. Cardamom is a mysterious spice, often recalling bark, stones, flowers and fruit all at once. So it’s no wonder these wines are welcome at most any table.

Starr’s wines are all remarkably restrained, yet offer the very essence of the fruit that is their provenance. “The reason our estate fruit doesn’t translate into these very intensely sweet, massive wines is that there is such amazing natural acidity at play here. The electrolyte balance of the grape translates directly into the wine, and the wine cannot be pushed past itself that way. To do so would require manipulating chemistry. In the early days I did try to push some wines over the top. And, I have to say, I just didn’t like those wines. They didn’t hold. They didn’t survive. I had to reject them. Wines fall apart when you try and push them in that direction.” Indeed, the wines off this estate seem only to know elegance and fresh flesh. The older wines we try later in the day still possess a lilting moxie and unabashed youthfulness.

“Cabernet Franc has a pulse. The grape itself has a pulse. When it’s is on the vine, it has a pulse. One of the most under-appreciated fruits out there is the blueberry, and the blueberry floats; it has this wonderful waxy quality to it, and that’s how they harvest them. Cab Franc, in a way, almost floats. And it’s the spiciest of the classic Bordeaux varieties. The Cabernet Franc vine itself – the wood – has a sheen to it. It’s a bit silvery compared to the wood on Cabernet Sauvignon vines, which is a darker brownish-black. It does not like to line up like a soldier. It doesn’t like to grow in a straight line.” We’re standing in a block of Cab Franc she has named the “Goddess Block” as she tells me this.

We hop back in her car, and Starr continues to tour me around the estate. We pass an old vineyard shed, inoperable trucks, an old chapel that was built by Charlie’s great aunt around 1910; it is considered part of the Grace Cathedral (and was originally located there) in San Francisco and is registered as an historical landmark. The Crocker family donated a block of Nob Hill so that Grace Cathedral could be built. Starr and her husband Norm were married outside the vineyard chapel. We pass Charlie’s woodworking shop, a cluster of chickens picking at weeds and wild flowers, and an old gravity-flow winery which Crocker converted into the family residence. There’s also a beautiful old brandy distillery, later converted by Crocker into the “Casali”, or party room, which wine club members currently enjoy during private events.

Starr stops outside an 1870s Sears & Roebuck kit home not far from a block of Sauvignon Blanc. It is charmingly rendered in a Victorian style. “Charlie was so happy to get this,” Starr says. “It could have come from Chicago or Wisconsin, because the railway went through here, from Chicago all the way to San Francisco.” Olive, oak and walnut trees that have “passed away” on the property have gradually been repurposed. “Charlie and I have similar minds that way; we like to give things new life. So if a tree passes away, it’s repurposed into a table or door.”

As we pass several blocks of Sauvignon Blanc, Starr says, “We’ve created a ‘Napa-style’ Sauvignon Blanc. I was getting tired of hearing people chasing a New Zealand or Bordeaux style in the Napa Valley. I kept saying to colleagues ‘we’ve got this on our own.’ I think you’ll find the wine has tension and flesh. A lot of red wine drinkers won’t pick up a glass of Sauvignon Blanc; they’ll probably go for a Chardonnay first. It’s easy for them to taste the flesh in Chardonnay. I think here we’ve captured the flesh of Sauvignon Blanc. We’ll see.” When later in the day we sit down to taste the Sauvignon Blanc, Starr’s comments turn out to be on the money. The fruit is front and center, fleshy and mouth-filling, while the acidity keeps the wine itself laser-focused, and seems to cleanse the palate as one consumes it.

Visitors touring the Napa Valley will find the Crocker & Starr experience unique. An appointment in advance is required, and no more than six guests at a time are invited to visit. Beginning inside a 1918 restored farmhouse, guests receive a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and then head off for a walk through the vineyards and property. Later they arrive at the Garden Arbor & Stone House, where they participate in a tasting of the estates red wines. The table at which guests are seated is made from those self-same trees they passed on the property.

R.H. Drexel

Stolo: A Hidden Gem along California’s Coastline

One of my favorite road trips is along California’s Highway 1, especially the Northern end of the Golden State’s Central Coastline. Dramatic views of the Pacific set against the bright grandeur of Hearst Castle, resting atop the rolling hills of San Simeon, seem intended to lower one’s blood pressure. The Piedras Blancas elephant seal rookery nearby, which runs for about six miles, is a great place to stop and stretch one’s legs – a highly entertaining look-out, where visitors can observe these wonderful creatures in their natural habitat.

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Just south of Piedras Blancas is the small seaside town of Cambria, a historic tourist destination. I used to stop here, mostly on my way to Santa Barbara or Los Angeles, for a notoriously great cup of Mexican hot chocolate at a café that, alas, no longer exists.


Recently, just outside Cambria and heading inland towards Paso Robles, I discovered a small gem of winery that lies within the San Luis Obispo appellation, which also includes Talley Vineyards in the south. Talley and Stolo are nearly 58 miles apart; over an hour’s drive from each other. The Stolo wines bear perhaps a greater similarity with the Santa Cruz Mountain appellation north of them.

When I arrive, I am greeted by Winemaker Nicole Bertotti Pope. Tall and possessed of an unadorned, natural beauty, she immediately comes across as warm and earnest. Dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans and work boots, Pope welcomes me into the Stolo tasting room, where she shows me pictures of Don and Charlene Stolo, who bought the property in 2002, and their Managing Partner Maria Stolo Bennetti. They are laid out among photos of kids and grandkids; some rest atop a large, stand-up antique radio. Since 2002, the Stolos have committed mightily to their project. In 2011 they broke ground on an estate winery, and in 2012 they hired on Pope as winemaker. By 2013 Pope was still transitioning away from her job at Talley into her new role at Stolo, finding herself commuting between two jobs, while raising a baby and toddler with her husband, Luke, who is a vineyard consultant. At the time, their growing family was living in a double-wide across the street from the Stolo estate.

“When I first started, we were doing things here we’d never done before, like purchasing equipment for a brand new winery. Everything was new,” Pope says. “In 2013 we were raising a little baby and a toddler, who was always running off in one direction or another. Looking back now, I wonder how I ever pulled that all off. Of course, the Talley family allowed me a flexible schedule. They’re super family-friendly. But it’s much easier now that the kids are a little older. Grandparents live in town. My dad is picking my kids up from school today. And family is very important to the Stolo family – they have kids and grandkids – so they will let me bring my kids to work if it’s necessary, and they just trust that I’ll still get my work done. It’s a great relationship to have.”

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Though Pope acknowledges that harvest is still extremely challenging, with children still demanding much of her time, she credits a strong team as the reason her schedule is reasonably balanced between work and home life. “Now we know how everything works at the winery. I know how everything works. If I need help in the cellar, I can request an assistant. We have a flow now. There is trust among the team.”

Winemaking can be solitary work. Oftentimes during slower times of the year there may only be one person in a small-production cellar at any given time. “I don’t mind the solitude,” Pope says, explaining that at home she is often very busy engaging with the family, cooking, cleaning, etc. The solitude, which begins with her morning drive, offers a welcomed contrast. “When I’m driving to work, I listen to NPR and enjoy the weather, especially the clouds, which are different every day. And I value the time that I spend here in the cellar, because I’m never here for 10-long-hour days, except during harvest, so I have enough time for the wines and for my family.”

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Pope kicks off our tasting with the 2017 Stolo Estate Sauvignon Blanc. I’m immediately drawn to its freshness, minerality, and a touch of lemongrass and thyme, all wrapped up nicely in an energetically structured body. It’s a Sauvignon Blanc with brightness and a backbone. When I ask Pope what her inspirations were when she began making Sauvignon off the Stolo Estate, she cites New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs, simply because they share a cooler climate. Though she enjoys Sauvignon Blancs from the Napa Valley, Paso Robles, and Happy Canyon in Santa Barbara County, she cites them all as warmer locations, and the Stolo Sauvignon Blanc seems destined to respond to its oceanic environment. From there, Pope says, “we’re cold-fermenting in stainless steel, with some neutral oak to round it out. There is no malolactic. The vines know they’re in a maritime climate. At first the grapes taste like nothing; they’re just green. Then suddenly, they becomes very floral; they taste like the juice from the press. You can tell right away that you’ve made the right pick.” At this level of quality and distinction, the Stolo Sauvignon Blanc over-delivers at $27.00 a bottle.

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The 2017 Stolo Estate Gewurztraminer comprises various separate lots, some of which have received skin-contact. “I always prefer the skin-contact Gewurztraminer,” Pope says. ”It has more interesting aromatics, more interesting florals. I was afraid it might get bitter, because Gewurztraminer skins can be very bitter, but I never got that in our wine, so we’re going to do more and more of it.” At $25.00 a bottle, this is another serious, deeply-nuanced wine that over-performs at this price point.

[Please allow me to provide some context when I refer to these prices as fair: My wife and I love wine. Because we enjoy a glass or two of wine with dinner almost nightly, we tend to spend about $7.00 to $10.00 per bottle on our weekday wines. On the weekends, we spoil ourselves and spend more – anywhere from $28.00 a bottle, to $280.00 a bottle, or more, if we’re out to dinner.]

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The 2016 Stolo Estate Pinot Noir at $42.00 (380 cases made) is an elegant revelation. The 50% stem inclusion in this wine seems to elevate the already bright aromatics of high-toned cherries, violets and a distant suggestion of salinity. It speaks to the terroir of the Stolo site. (If you haven’t yet visited Stolo or are unfamiliar with its terroir, you will enjoy its influence if you favor Pinot Noirs that are interpreted in a fresh, energetic style, with natural acidity in balance and enough structure to suggest age-worthiness.) With regard to sense-memory, this Pinot takes me right back to some of my favorite Santa Cruz Mountains producers, like Jeffery Patterson’s finest Pinot Noirs under his iconic Mt. Eden label. During our visit, Pope mentions that she’s very drawn to Santa Cruz Mountain Pinots, most particularly those of Thomas Fogarty and Big Basin.

It is however, the Stolo Syrahs that signal a defining moment for this producer. Stolo is a serious contender in the Rhône-variety category. The Stolo Syrahs can stand proudly beside an Arnot-Roberts Syrah (a personal favorite of mine) or other American Syrahs of that caliber. I was fortunate to try a deep vertical of Stolo Syrahs, some of which preceded Pope’s arrival on the estate. It is here that the site ultimately proves its merit, translating the very essence of Syrah through the prism of its own unique terroir. The Stolo Syrahs are iodine beauties, smelling at times like blood crushed from a rock in a spring meadow near the ocean. They are vibrant, sophisticated and rightly claim their place alongside the finest old- and new-world producers. The Estate Syrah retails for about $42.00 a bottle.

Stolo Vineyards & Winery is open to the public and is located off of picturesque Santa Rosa Creek Road, running east out of the coastal town of Cambria, California. It’s just a few miles as the crow flies from the nearby Pacific Ocean, which is viewable from atop the estate vineyard.

R.H. Drexel

The Proust Questionnaire: Mary Maher

For the past 17 years, Mary Maher has managed some of the Napa Valley’s most coveted vineyard sites. Today she focuses her efforts on the conscientious and meticulous farming of the Harlan Estate and Promontory vineyards. Maher is considered one of the nation’s leading vineyard managers, but this Sacramento native, born into a farming family, remains straightforward and unpretentious. She’s done a pretty thorough job pruning her own ego. Here Maher talks road trips, Michelle Obama, and the occasional lie she tells her dogs.

Mary-Maher-edited.jpg

Photo by Matt Morris

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

The little quiet moments in life.  Sunday mornings at home with my husband and dogs. 

What is your greatest fear?

Being too busy to notice when someone is in need.

Which living person do you most admire?  

Michelle Obama.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?  

My monkey brain.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?  

Intentional cruelty.

What is your greatest extravagance?

Hikes in the forest with husband and dogs.

What is your favorite journey?

 Road trips anywhere.

On what occasion do you lie?

To our dogs. I tell each they are my favorite. (Thankfully they can’t read this). 

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

Lately it’s been f*&k. Not sure why this one is surfacing lately.

What is your greatest regret?

Not being with my mother when she died.

What is your current state of mind?

Gratitude.

If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?

That they all weren’t Republicans.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Less intense at times.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

That I stumbled into this career path that has been rewarding on so many levels.

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be? 

Definitely a soaring bird.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?

Lisbeth Salander.

What characteristics do you most like in a man?

Sense of humor.

What characteristics do you most like in a woman? 

Sense of humor.

How would you like to die? 

 Fast.

What is the greatest love of your life?

Kelly.

What talent do you wish you possessed? 

Speak multiple languages fluently.

What is your motto?

A merry heart doeth good like medicine.

One Way Ticket: Another Chat with Robert M. Parker, Jr.

Wine class for 6th graders in Bordeaux with Robert Parker, Jr.

Wine class for 6th graders in Bordeaux with Robert Parker, Jr.

Back in 2014, I sat down with Robert M. Parker Jr. for a long chat. Over the years, I’ve leaned on him whenever I’ve needed to process things that are bothering me. Given the current political climate in our country, I felt I needed to lean on him again. If you missed the first interview we did together, “Getting to Know Dowell," you can find it at Wakawaka Wine Reviews; Elaine Brown’s very fine website. She also wrote a lovely introduction and should be credited with what I consider to be a pretty cool title. Here’s a link to that one:  http://tinyurl.com/zta9on6

RH Drexel:  It's becoming somewhat of a cliché to talk about how awful 2016 was. Most people reference the divisive election as one of its low points. For me, personally, though, there were three things about 2016 that really shook me to my core; the shootings of Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Keith Lamont Scott and far too many black men and women; the treatment of indigenous peoples as represented by the proposed Dakota Access Pipeline, and the passing of so many great artists, namely, for me, Leonard Cohen, David Bowie, Prince, Sharon Jones, Gene Wilder, Don Henley and the incomparable and brave Carrie Fisher, though there were so many. What about 2016 affected you the most personally?    

Robert M. Parker Jr.: I do believe as we become increasingly older and more sensitive to time running out and our own mortality, the deaths of well-known people seem to jump out in the news more dramatically. Certainly, 2016 was a year when too many valuable and creative people passed away. And well beyond those that you mentioned were significant people in the wine field, many of whom I knew very well, such as Châteauneuf du Pape’s Henri Bonneau, Château Margaux’s Paul Pontallier, Gus Anderson of Anderson’s Conn Valley, the well-known French consultant working in Napa, Denis Malbec, and Denis Dubourdieu of Bordeaux, Etienne Hugel of Alsace, and Sam Beall of Blackberry Farm in Tennessee – one of the bright, young stars of the wine and food scene.

The finality of death just reinforces the fact that creative people and anyone who has made a contribution to a better world are gone. And while their legacies are important, understanding that they can no longer contribute to our joy is a harsh realization of the cycle of life.

However, the question, “What affected me the most personally in 2016?” was probably just the depressing nature of the political campaigns, which were disgustingly partisan, ugly and insulting to most people’s sense of intelligence and civility. It really enveloped the country and evolved in such a negative manner it looked like a carnival of fear and hatred, and it emanated from both Democrats and Republicans. That in itself was extremely distressing and, frankly, a sinister omen for the immediate future.

RMP with future wife, Pat Etzel, Maxim's, Paris, December 31, 1967

RMP with future wife, Pat Etzel, Maxim's, Paris, December 31, 1967

Wedding Day

Wedding Day

RHD: Ironically, or perhaps not ironically at all, on balance, we had some great art in 2016. Across mediums, I found it a very satisfying and inspiring year. 

My favorite film of 2016, though there were so many good ones, was "American Honey" with Shia LaBeouf and Sasha Lane. It was harrowing and redemptive and I find myself thinking about it often. And then there was Ava DuVernay’s “13th”, which I feel ought to be made into some kind of official historical document. I wish it were mandatory viewing in schools across the country, from elementary school on up to grad school. How about you? Any films that grabbed you in 2016?    

RP: My favorite films I watched this year included “The Big Short,” “The Imitation Game,” “Spotlight,” and “Hacksaw Ridge,” the Hollywood account of the bloodbath on the island of Okinawa during World War II. I wouldn’t put any of these movies in a class with some of my favorites of all time, such as “Lawrence of Arabia,” “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” or “Silence of the Lambs,” but they were well worth the time invested watching them.

RHD: After "Breaking Bad" ended, I think we were both left jonesing for another epic television show. In 2016, I very much enjoyed "The Night Of”, “Atlanta” and “The OA." “Greenleaf” was just terrific, too. Somehow the writers of that show found a way to deal with some very complicated and confusing topics in extremely nuanced ways. It’s a very empathetic show, which makes it somewhat captivating to watch, because even the most egregious characters have within them some hidden fiber of humanity.  And the theme of that show is dynamite. And, with so many great streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, Amazon and Acorn, viewers now have access to great international television, as well. My wife and I love "Please Like Me", an Australian dramedy on Hulu. And Fleabag, on Amazon, is a quiet, gut-wrenching revelation. How about for you? What did you and Pat enjoy last year and are continuing to enjoy into 2017?

RP: A list of the best television I saw included many of the original series coming out of Netflix, Amazon, Showtime, etc., “Bloodline,” “The Fall,” “The Killing,” “Paranoid,” “The Crown,” “Wild Things,” “Spotless,” “Narcos,” “The Night Of,” and the Swedish detective series (with English subtitles) “Wallander,” all made for top-notch and compellingly spent time enjoying the development of fabulous characters, intricate and intriguing plot lines and generally top-flight television. All of these series surpassed anything I saw at a movie theater.

RHD: My books of 2016 were Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari and Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run. Have you read anything recently that I should check out?    

RP: Since I have become addicted to my Kindle, I tend to read significantly more than I ever did in the past. I’m not sure all of these books came out in the calendar year 2016, but I read all of them last year. The list includes: The extraordinary account of children saved from the Holocaust in the Warsaw Ghetto, “Irena’s Children,” by Tilar J. Mazzeo; the novel by excellent fiction writer Ben Coes, “Coup d’Etat”; Greg Iles’ “Mississippi Blood” and Douglas Preston’s compelling “Lost City of the Monkey God.” These are all certainly books I enjoyed immensely. I average 2-4 books a month on my Kindle, so there are many other books, fiction and nonfiction, of which an old classic stands out: “The Embers of War,” by Fredrik Logevall. It won a number of prizes. The book chronicles the extraordinary errors of judgment made first by the French and later by the Americans in the fatal involvement with Vietnam. 

In addition, some books that I have read that were certainly interesting enough to recommend to you and your readers include: Two works of fiction by Don Winslow, “The Power of the Dog,” and “The Cartel”; and several nonfiction books, including my favorite, Jay Winik’s “1944: FDR and the Year That Changed History,” an extraordinary profile of the events of that year with a deep focus on Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Adolf Hitler. Another fascinating book, “A Torch Kept Lit,” is a collection put together by James Rosen of the best obituaries written by the late William F. Buckley Jr. These are fascinating profiles by one of the greatest minds of the 20th century revealing the lives of some of the most profoundly influential people of his time. I also enjoyed, although it’s somewhat frivolous, the book by Robert Matzen and Michael Mazzone, “Errol Flynn Slept Here,” a look at this incredible movie legend, his love life and eccentric behavior while living in a now infamous house in Hollywood. I also read Antony Beevor’s “Ardennes 1944: The Battle of the Bulge,” about the slaughter that took place in the Belgian forest when the Germans counter-attacked following the Allied successes of D-Day. 

As far as other nonfiction, I tried to read, but am having a tough time getting through, the famous book, “The Autobiography of a Yogi,” by Paramahansa Yogananda. With all due respect to yogi masters and practitioners of yoga, I had difficulties wading through this book that is considered a classic.

Lastly, I continue to read any books of fiction that come out by authors Michael Connelly, the late Vince Flynn, Daniel Silva, and Brad Thor.

RHD:  What's playing on your stereo at home these days?  

RP: Not much has changed since the last time you interviewed me, but I continue to always find the time to listen to Bob Dylan and Neil Young. I spent more time going back to some of the great early music of Fleetwood Mac before they became a different band and their huge commercial success with Stevie Nicks. Also, there is a band that I had discovered in the early 70s. I went back recently and bought their entire collection and was thrilled to listen to their music again, since I hadn’t really heard it since the days of vinyl LPs. It is a British band called Brinsley Schwarz. I can’t help myself, I love classic rock ‘n’roll from the 60s and 70s, as well as the folk music from that era. I also enjoyed more recent efforts from the likes of Jackie Greene and James McMurtry. However, I also spent considerable time listening to Chicago blues, particularly some of the great performers from that city that became national icons, including the late Koko Taylor, Albert Collins, Lil’ Ed and the Blues Imperials, Buddy Guy, Elvin Bishop, Hound Dog Taylor, Charlie Musselwhite, and Mavis Staples. Those artists just produce some of the most incredible guitar playing, fabulous lyrics and incredibly soulful music. Many of these artists set the table for the famous soul movement of the 60s, and I love listening to them.

As far as more modern groups and bands, I suppose my age shows through more than it should, but I do love guys that have been around for a long time that continue to turn out fabulous music, including Nick Cave, Mark Knopfler, Cowboy Junkies from Canada and some newer bands, such as the Felice Brothers, and Michael Kiwanuka, whose song, “Cold Little Heart” might be the Song of the Year for me in 2016. Music plays a large part in my relaxation and everyday life and I have invested in the highest quality stereo components to showcase my love of music.

A young Robert Parker, Jr.

A young Robert Parker, Jr.

RHD: I’ve been on a Mike Posner kick lately. I consider him to be a pretty brilliant lyricist. Getting back into Janis Joplin, Billie Holiday and Edith Piaf a lot these days. And, I dig a little known band called “The Shoe.” 

So, let's switch gears and talk about the younger generation. I'm frankly kind of fed up with pundits slamming 20- and 30-somethings for being an entitled generation. At least the young people I know don’t seem that entitled at all. They seem to be searching for meaning and willing to work for it. If anything, I sense among them some deep-seated fear. Many of them seem very anxious. Do you think this is a function of many of them having been so young when 9/11 happened? That's a tender age to have something like that happen in one's homeland and I wonder if it has created a different level of anxiety among that younger generation?  

RP: Of course, I have a little insight into at least one person from the younger generation, as my daughter is 29 years old. At least in her case, I don’t believe 9/11 created any fear or anxiety, although she is certainly aware of the cultural war going on between extreme Islamism and Western Civilization. 

I think it’s generally unfair and misleading to try and generalize about any generation of people. My generation would seemingly have experienced more anxiety than more recent generations. While we were baby boomers born after World War II concluded, we grew up as the Cold War hit its height. I remember in elementary school practicing diving under our desks in case of a nuclear attack, the sounds of sirens at the local fire house that occurred every day, warning of a possible thermonuclear war. By the time we were 18-20 years old, the war in Vietnam was raging, the draft had been introduced, and the antiwar movement had begun. In addition, the savage violence surrounding the Civil Rights Movement in the South in the mid and late 1960s, followed by assassinations of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. Those were times when I actually thought that the country was going to be ripped apart by generational, racial and cultural differences. Mostly my generation felt our government was out of control, intrinsically dishonest, deceptive and malicious. Yet our country held together and, I believe, that it was the baby boomers that laid the groundwork for a more progressive and open- minded American society. But, as we’ll discuss later, that seems to have now run its course, and we are backtracking into a new era of partisanship, negativity and hate.

Arrival of Maia Song Elizabeth, September 16, 1987

Arrival of Maia Song Elizabeth, September 16, 1987

Clockwise from left:  Daughter Maia with Parker, Parker family with Jacques Chirac 1999, Parker family in Maui 1998

Clockwise from left:  Daughter Maia with Parker, Parker family with Jacques Chirac 1999, Parker family in Maui 1998

RHD:  It's no secret that I love hipsters. I don't like to call them hipsters, though, as I kind of view that word the way the establishment used the word "hippie" in the 60's and 70's. It's not just a descriptor, it's a value judgment. The young people that I know whom the media or pundits might describe as hipsters are nothing more than young folks trying to be resourceful; make their own clothes, furniture, art, specialty products, etc.,  in order to give modern life some soul and meaning. I call them my "hopesters."How do you view that culture? Am I being too idealistic about these young folks? 

RP: I really don’t like labels for anything, and I would relish spending the rest of my life not hearing the word hipster. I certainly get an idea of what the stereotypical poster child for hipsters, male or female, looks like. But I think it’s silly. In every era young people want to authenticate themselves, develop an identity, and respond to the challenges and crises of their time. All of this has a profound impact on any generation. How they react and how they see themselves as different is not unlike the baby boomers regarding anyone “over 30" as inherently untrustworthy. I think some of what you are referring to is the younger generation wants to get back to a simpler lifestyle. We’ve been so overwhelmed with modern technology and creature comforts that one could actually get lost in the excess of conveniences and things made easy for them. Perhaps part of more recent generations are looking for more authenticity and simplicity in life. 

RHD:  These seem like dark and scary times. History has a way of being cyclical, doesn't it? What is your level of pessimism or optimism these days about the future of our nation and the world, in general?

RP: I see the United States in 2017 as heading into very uncharted areas. The extremely distasteful political campaigns of 2016, and I am talking about both sides of the fence, was thoroughly disgusting. So many people have died or been maimed for our wonderful freedoms and democracy. To see the disrespectful and cavalier way so many politicians on both sides of the aisle treat each other and their constituents is shameful. The outright hatred, insults, mocking and partisanship has split the country into at least two large sectors. We seem to lack any leader capable of healing the wounds and bringing the country back together.

As much as I admire President Obama as a father, a man, husband and person, his verbiage, rhetoric and record have caused more division than I would have ever dreamed possible when he was elected. We now have a crude businessman, President Trump, who is not articulate, and who elevates mockery to daily discourse and uses insults rather than diplomacy. But for my part I believe the country needs to support him and see what he can do. But, I am not optimistic, and I do agree that he deserves to have a chance. I’ll just keep my fingers crossed tightly! 

One of the things that has me worried is the extreme division and social inequality and the fascist political correctness which is dominating our schools and universities. It is counterproductive to have social hierarchies that are defined by inflexible and uncompromising straitjackets. None of this even allows for discussion of the true problems that modern society has to confront, resulting in the most surreal destruction of liberalism, freedom, as well as diversity of thought which has to be cherished and protected.

RHD:  I guess I’m even less optimistic about Trump getting even one thing right. That he supported and even aggressively perpetuated the whole “birther” movement disgusts me. In essence, he was saying, “Hey, Barack Obama, you sure you deserve a seat at the table? Are you sure you belong in the White House? Cause you don’t look like “us”. Your skin is a different color.” 

I mean, I don’t know how else to interpret that whole birther movement. So, if he has the nerve to call into question whether or not a remarkable man like Barack Obama, who dedicated much of his life to public service, is fit to run this country, just imagine what he must think of all the other black people, other people of color, Muslims? It’s chilling if you stop to think about it. For that reason, I don’t recognize him as my president. First time in my life. I’m hoping he gets impeached before his four years are up. I will do what I can in my power to protest, not just at rallies, but with my dollars. I’m not buying anything else from Home Depot until they publicly denounce co-founder, Ken Langone, who mightily donated to Trump, knowing full well, even then, about Trump’s involvement in the birther movement. That’s blatant white supremacist thinking. And, while it was nice of Starbucks to send out that tweet about their willingness to hire refugees, I need to see more from them than that. I’ve been in PR and marketing for many years; I know a PR move when I see one. If they really stand in solidarity, I’m going to be asking them to please shutter their doors at their location inside Trump Tower. And, of course, the Trumps are pretty litigious people, so how much money is Starbucks willing to put into legal fees, if it comes to that, to shutter their doors there? How many corporations are really willing to stand in solidarity? I’ve sent a few tweets to Starbucks, but no one has responded yet. If they don’t respond, then I’ll start moving towards spreading the word of a boycott within the local county where I live. 

I mean, make no mistake, this country was built on the backs of slaves, which is why there’s still so much fear of “the other” in this nation. We simply won’t acknowledge that fact. So, if I can’t give up a cup of coffee in the name of solidarity with the oppressed and marginalized, then what kind of weakling am I? And, I bought detergent yesterday, so now I’m doing research on that product…who on their board or at the highest level of whatever entity owns that brand, donated to the Trump campaign, and then, if necessary,  I’ll issue a boycott ultimatum with them, and ask that they publicly denounce these current supremacist policies, and so on. I’ll be taking my protests of corporate entities that supported the Trump campaign to social media, and in my own community. And, the wine business would not exist without Mexican people, and other ethnicities willing to take jobs others just don’t want to do. And our Jewish friends are haunted on a daily basis by the reality of this new white supremacist regime. So, I’m very invested right now in protesting with my dollars. 

 See, I’ve consulted for a lot of rich people in my career; a couple of billionaires and lots of millionaires. And, while, of course, there are very wealthy people out there who are deeply decent, and who put their wealth to good use, some cats with tons of money are super insecure. Their identity is pretty much tied up in what they own and how many fancy people they know. They’re actually very easy to read because they never pay attention to anything anyone around them has to say unless they start to lose money, or fancy people stop associating with them. When that happens, they wig out and start looking for ways to divest and get the hell out of dodge because their egos are no longer being stroked. So, the only way this current administration is going to switch gears or completely collapse in on itself is if they start to lose money, and influence among the moneyed. 

It’s at times like these that I find it hard to look for the sunny side of the street. I’ve been pondering the meaning of life a lot lately, and the barbarity of our species. 

RP: I have always thought about the meaning of life and I’m sure I am hardly alone in that respect. Perhaps it is trying to simplify a complicated idea, but I have tended to believe that all of us are given certain positive characteristics to profit from in life. At the same they are counterbalanced by a set of negatives and potential problems that, if allowed to persist and fester, will derail even the strongest individual. Think of it as a yin and yang. We need to overcome the negative setbacks, the slaps in the face, or whatever they might be – health issues, financial problems, mental stress, economic woes – and stay focused on the good things we can do, we enjoy, and we benefit from. If we stay focused on the positives, as you put it, “the sunny side of the street,” we are likely to have a more enjoyable life than if we let the negatives dominate our daily life. I don’t think there is anyone, from Nobel Prize winners to the greatest actors and actresses, authors and athletes, who has not gone through deep, depressing times when they question their value and what their contribution and role in life should be. Yet it is during those times when we must remain positive.

RHD: Yes, when I used to get severely depressed, I’d reach out to you and maybe tell you I was a little sad, so you’d bombard me with videos of dogs doing silly things. Then, I remember writing you an email saying, basically, why bother with this life? And, you were pretty firm in telling me that I had to find a sustainable way to get through those depressive bouts. Whatever it was; I had to figure out a way through. I remember you said, “You’re smart. You can do this.” And, then my dog, Ruby, died, and all of a sudden I stopped believing in God. That probably sounds like an insane non-sequitur, but there was just this moment of clarity; I found Ruby dead one morning, and in that moment, I knew that she and I were the same, and that I am just another species. I certainly don’t mean to judge anyone who believes in God. What do I know? But, I just found my own sustainable way to make it through those bouts, and for me, finding that way meant losing my religion.

You know, I was raised by Catholic immigrants. Like a lot of immigrant families, Mother Mary was probably the focal point of our family’s worship; of our faith. We’d go to mass and the priests would talk about all this other stuff, but when we got home, we’d mostly just pray to Mother Mary. And, I can’t recall any relative or family member ever telling me she was good because she was a virgin. That part of the biblical story didn’t resonate with us, for whatever reason. I was just taught that she was non-judgmental, loving and raised a fine son. 

After my mental breakdown, I was visiting her statue at our local mission church nearly every day. I’d go by the grocery store and buy her a bouquet of flowers and take them to the altar and just sit and talk to her. Because, it’s hard for me to ask others for help. I like to see my friends laugh, so I used to have a hard time asking for help when I needed it. I just didn’t want to bring anybody down. So, I’d talk to Mother Mary, instead, and sometimes things would work out, but lots of times they wouldn’t. And, I also couldn’t make sense of why I didn’t suffer like so many others do. You know, why are refugees and children dying all over the world, and I get to stream-watch television for shits and giggles? 

Not being able to square the narrative of Mother Mary with the fact that I’m just a highly evolved animal of the homo sapien species was at first crippling. I missed talking to her so much. When I was on suicide watch in college, talking to her was the only thing that got me through.

But, now I’m much better about asking for help when I need it. And, if I’m too depressed to formulate thoughts or talk about what I’m feeling, I’ve put systems in place where I can get the help I need without struggling to find the energy to do it. I’ll just say to my wife, or to a close friend, “I’m spinning. Need help.” And, they’ll step up just be there for whatever help I may need. Which is all I ever wanted from religion anyway; just to feel less alone and to feel accepted, loved. So I found my own little sustainable way to cope. 

But, you know, I’ll always love the archetype of Mother Mary. That narrative saved my life more than once. Especially as translated by a lot of immigrant and working class households; it’s probably the most beautiful piece of fan fiction ever created from an otherwise quite divisive book. 

I should probably be a bit more careful saying all this stuff. The last time I sat down with you for an interview, some folks on a popular wine board, whom I’d never even met, said I had my “screws loose” with regard to my mental breakdown, and other unkind things. I take myself a lot less seriously now, but at the time, when I saw those comments, I felt very humiliated. I didn’t attend wine events for quite a long time after that. I just wanted to stay at home. 

RP: This is extremely unfortunate, but it is certainly the result of unfettered social media and the lamentable behavior that takes place aimed at embarrassing and humiliating others. I love the Internet. It is incredibly efficient and a seemingly infinite source of knowledge and learning. It is also the breeding ground for perpetration of myths, half-truths, innuendo and outright falsehoods. I worried about this a number of years ago, referring it to as Kim Jong-un-ism, or as someone else said, “digital Mao-ism,” where individuals pass off as conventional wisdom ideas that they themselves create and manufacture, then bounce off of hundreds, if not thousands, of people on social network sites in cyberspace. What results is this self-reassuring circle of group-think, where there is little evidence of the truth and the rhetoric is aimed at hurting, humiliating, mocking and insulting not only those that disagree with them, but anyone not considered agreeable with their propaganda or narrative. 

You were obviously a victim of this, but you are hardly alone, and it happens all too frequently. I don’t see any solution, because these voices are often the most frequent and loudest. They should get a life, but I don’t think that’s advice that is ever going to be followed. The snark, the nastiness, is here to stay and the best way of avoiding it is to avoid visiting these sites.

RHD: Yes, I avoid them all together now. Life is less stressful that way. And, honestly, there are more important things to worry about these days. It’s Black History Month, and that’s been on my mind. I guess in honor of Black History Month, the other day I just really tried to earnestly imagine being black; and more specifically; a young black man living in today’s America, given the rise of institutionalized racism.

So, I found a quiet corner in my room and just meditated on that: I’m kind of quirky. I prefer small groups, or solitude. I also like to explore new things. So, I imagined myself walking into the stores where I normally shop, for example. I saw everyone there turn and look at me as walked in. Because I believe that would happen at these stores where I typically shop, to be candid. Then, I thought about going to buy a purse or something for my wife, and I saw myself walking through that store and having the manager of that store watch me, maybe wondering if I was lost or if I was going to steal something...something I had saved up for and was actually proud to be able to buy! I also love to drive to new neighborhoods on my day off, park, and walk around them. They inspire my writing. So, I started to imagine a police car maybe slowing down because I was walking through a particular neighborhood or another. Maybe more than once. Maybe they’d even stop to ask me what I was doing in the area. Well, I can tell you right now, that if that kept up for a week…maybe two…I’d be right back in the mental hospital. I would be in a complete state of paranoia. But, this time around, I’d elect to stay inside that mental hospital; an experience that up until that very moment, I had considered one of the most harrowing in my life. All of a sudden, in that moment, it became my safe place. 

So, I had two revelations that day. One is a small, personal-growth one; I’m an entitled chicken shit in many ways and that was a big wake up call. But, the bigger revelation for me was that I actually began to understand the pernicious evil that is institutionalized racism, especially as it is manifested in the reality of mass incarceration in this nation. The way mass incarceration works is very, very sinister. That was somewhat of a mind-bending experience that I haven’t quite recovered from, truth be told. 

Anyway, sorry to get so heavy.  Let’s switch gears again. 

You have a lot of energy and are really inquisitive. Recently, you said that you have a lot of plans creatively for the future. What do you think the next decade or so will hold for you with regard to the world of wine and beyond? 

RP: I have outlined and given a great deal of thought to writing my memoirs, but still have somewhat mixed emotions about doing it. Do I want to open up private areas of my life that are probably unknown to most readers? That said, I would also like to catalog the journey I have taken in life, and the reasons why I enjoyed so much success and had so much joy in climbing the mountain. As I have said to many people: The journey going up the mountainside is much more fun than getting to the top and trying to stay there. 

RHD: So, I only had one resolution for 2017, and that's just to create. Be more creative and keep creating, with no goal or reason in mind. Did you make any resolutions for 2017?   

RP: After making resolutions almost every year, including going on a diet and losing 30 or so pounds, and failing every time, I decided to do “random acts of kindness.” This has entailed acts such as buying a pack of cigarettes for a homeless person at a gas station, to generous tips at restaurants, to being increasingly involved with charitable dinners, wine tastings, etc. I have continued to do this for the last four years or so, and will continue into 2017. I enjoy it, as it is gratifying and the happiness that it gives people is very satisfying. So, other than that, there are no other new resolutions.

RHD:  What was the best moment or moments for you in 2016?   

RP: Being the hedonist that I am, certainly I have had some wonderful trips recently with my wife, for instance, going back to New Orleans – a city I love for its atmosphere, food and general joie de vivre. We also spent time in Victoria and Vancouver in British Columbia, enjoying the climate and natural beauty of the area. Aside from that were junkets to New York City, which is just an incredible place, with dynamic cuisine, a nonstop, full-throttle, 24-hour vibe and everything from great pastrami to incredible sushi and other assorted cuisines. 

RHD:  What keeps you up at night? What helps you to relax and to sleep?   

RP: I tend to read for several hours before I fall asleep, as that’s the major challenge for me. Reading relaxes me and does seem to help me sleep. When I am traveling and under the stress of general long work days, where sleep is essential, I tend to use a helper such as Ambien.

RHD:  My wife and I have our small daily rituals that really do bring us so much comfort, fun and pleasure. We enjoy sitting on the sofa at night, watching a really good show or movie, sipping on a good wine. On the weekends, we take little drives out to the ocean, or visit with friends. And, we love our pets. They make us laugh so we spend a lot of time with them.  What are you and Pat doing these days that brings you both a lot of joy?  

RP: I like what you are doing, and I have to say that we would be in 100% agreement that drinking a good wine, watching a good movie or television series, having dinner with dear friends and being close to our beloved pets, brings joy and contentment. More and more as I am no longer working full-time, I have been trying to take road trips for two or three days to destinations on the East Coast. I surprised Pat recently with a trip to Niagara Falls. And we really had a blast up in Ontario visiting the falls, taking the Maid of the Mist boat underneath the falls, and doing touristy things. We also did a road trip to Blackberry Farm in Tennessee, which is an extraordinary Relais & Chateaux property, with great casual and formal dining – including an unbelievable wine list. It is a fabulous property at the foothills of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. This year I am looking forward to going, perhaps, north to Cape Cod and Nantucket Island.

RHD: Though I don’t believe in it myself, I have various friends who believe in reincarnation. In a parallel universe, if reincarnation did exist, what would you want to come back as?  

RP: Believing in nature, and love, certainly makes life about as good as it can be. I have friends who believe in reincarnation. I’m not so sure I can go that far, but I am assuming that if you are already a human being you can’t come back as another human. But, again, I am not persuaded by the ideology of reincarnation. I suppose, if you couldn’t come back as another human, and that would be my first choice, maybe coming back as a bald eagle, or even an owl, would be fun. Or being the king of the oceans as a tiger shark, or a great white shark. Either way, the idea of unrestricted flying and swimming is appealing.

RHD: I’d want to come back as a tree. And if you came back as a bird, you could hang out on one of my branches. Ha! 

I'm big into mottos these days. Just simple little sayings that I tell myself at the start of each day. Some of them I've made up. Others are quotes by people I admire. Currently, when I get up I tell myself "Don’t be a dick.” How about you? 

RP: I have quoted my father many times over the years, and some simple mottos have stuck with me, including “The harder you work, the luckier you get,” and “Good fortune smiles on he or she who is ready to receive her.” I think, no matter what age you are, you should live in the present, make every day count, and try to make a contribution, but also spoil yourself and enjoy life. As I’ve told so many people, “Life’s a one-way ticket, you don’t get a round trip, or a second chance.” As the iconic Nike ad stated – “Just do it.”

 

Happy Nights: A Chat with Don Felipe Hernandez of Feliz Noche Cellars

Since 2001, Don Felipe Hernandez has been producing wines under his Santa Barbara County-based “Feliz Noche” label. “It means ‘happy nights’,” Hernandez tells me. “If you have a good glass of wine at night, it is a happy night.” The label itself is modest – nearly home-made looking – but despite having been advised to contemporize it, Hernandez refuses to make any changes. “It has the moon, sky and stars,” he says. “It’s been the same since day one. I think it’s beautiful.”

Since its founding 15 years ago, Feliz Noches has grown from 50 cases to 600 cases annually. Hernandez hopes to top off production at “1,000 cases. No more. I can put my nose into every single barrel if I don’t grow more than 1,000 cases.” Hernandez anthropomorphizes his wines, calling them his ‘babies’, as we taste through the wide breadth of varietal wines he makes out of a small cellar on the Koehler Vineyards property in the Santa Ynez Valley appellation of Santa Barbara County. “Peter Koehler [the property owner] has a very good heart to let me make my wines here. He is a special person.” 

Hernandez makes all of his wines himself and watches over them regularly with great intention. “It takes a long time to make a wine, so it should take time for it to taste good. You have to wait until the wine is ready to be released. Doing that is insurance. I don’t want to risk what I’m doing. You have to be patient to make it and patient to release it. This is very important. Making wine is very time-consuming. You spend three years babysitting a wine. You have to be on top of things all the time. I top off my barrels every two weeks. That’s like religion here. Every two weeks. Every two weeks. They are my babies so I babysit them. From the day they go to barrel you have to protect your wines.” Many of Hernandez’s most recent red releases are from the 2009 vintage. In addition to the three years they spend in-barrel, he likes to practice extended bottle aging, “You have to release a wine when it tastes good, and this takes patience.” 

Drawing fruit mostly from the Koehler Vineyard, Hernandez produces a wide breadth of wines, including his Mi Pasion red blend – an equal-parts blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Sangiovese, Grenache, Tempranillo and Syrah. “I was going to call it Mi Locura – "My Craziness" – but my mentor told me to think of a better name, so I came up with Mi Pasion - "My Passion.” 

Hernandez met his mentor, a Frenchman named Ramon, in the Santa Ynez Valley in 1976. Winery and vineyard owner Peter Koehler had just hired a French consultant to “teach us how to grow vines better and make wines,” says Hernandez. The two men could not understand each other…Ramon spoke mostly French, and Hernandez spoke only Spanish at the time, so as Ramon demonstrated how to graft, build a cordon trellis, manage the canopy, etc., Hernandez translated the instructions into drawings he kept inside a notebook he carried with him in his breast pocket. He had crossed the border from Jalisco, Mexico only four years earlier when he was only 15 years old. “I came to Santa Barbara to work in the fields of Santa Ynez, and I helped plant the Koehler Vineyard in 1972. I didn’t even know what a grapevine looked like when I came here. I had never seen one before.” Though Hernandez’s knowledge of winegrowing and winemaking is vast these days, he remains highly inquisitive. “I like to listen to radio stations from other countries, even if I don’t know the language. I was listening to a Canadian radio station and there was a winemaker speaking French on this show, and I could tell he was talking about wine because he started to name barrel makers. So I remembered the barrel makers and I just ordered one of the barrels he said he liked. I want to learn for myself why he liked those barrels.” 

Hernandez at age 15 days before crossing the border from Jalisco, Mexico into the United States

Hernandez at age 15 days before crossing the border from Jalisco, Mexico into the United States

At 61 years old, Hernandez has no plans of retiring anytime soon. In addition to making Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, Tempranillo and Syrah, to name but a few, Hernandez also makes a Sta. Rita Hills Pinot Noir – a beautiful, delicate outlier in his lineup. A few nights after tasting with Hernandez, I pour two of his Pinot Noirs blind for my tasting group, Wines Without Borders. We’ve been together for just over a decade now and we’re comprised mostly of winemakers, winegrowers and one chef. In blind flights of Pinot Noirs from Burgundy, the Sonoma Coast, the Willamette Valley and Sta. Rita Hills, the winemakers in my tasting group guessed that the Feliz Noche Pinot Noirs were the Burgundies in both flights. 

“My wines don’t get older. They get younger every year,” Hernandez says with confidence. And, indeed, his 2009 Sta. Rita Hills Pinot Noir from the Rio Vista Vineyard is fresh, bright and savory. I ask him if he included stems in this vibrant Pinot and, though he does occasionally use stems for some of his wines, he didn’t with this particular Pinot Noir. “If you use the right barrel, you don’t need stems for the fruit from this vineyard. There are some vineyards that need stems – to give them a little body – but not from Rio Vista. The fruit is big and expressive enough.” 

The aging, he maintains, makes all the difference in his finished wines. “The problem is that a lot of people put wines into a new barrel for only 11 months and then they want to sell that wine. The wine tastes nice at the beginning, but then the wine falls apart because it was not well-aged.” Typically Hernandez ages his red wines for three years in the barrel. He also uses a combination of “neutral, old and new barrels. If you use too much new wood, you kill the juice,” he adds. 

When I ask Hernandez to describe his consumer base, he tells me, “All kinds of people buy my wines, from Los Angeles to New York.” His brand manager joins us for our tasting and prods Hernandez to tell me about an A-list actor who buys Hernandez’s wines 10 cases at a time. Though his brand manager drops the actor’s name, Hernandez stops me short of jotting it down, “That is not important. He is just a man. When he first tasted my wines (at a restaurant trade tasting in Los Angeles) he was dressed like a homeless man. He didn’t want to be recognized.” Hernandez maintains that his wines sell mostly from “word of mouth” buzz. “My customers tell other people about my wines, and then they show up here and want to buy. That’s how we sell a lot of wine.” 

When asked to describe his approach to winegrowing, Hernandez says, “Every year is different. First of all, you have to make sure that the minerals are there for the vines, because they eat like us. They have to eat healthy to be healthy. That’s rule number one. Rule number two is you have to read the water gauge every year and see how much rain you get, then you have to be on top of that. If you don’t have enough rain, you have to compensate with irrigation. You have to really manage the water in the ground in order to have the fruit be the same ever year. Otherwise, the fruit is always all over the place. You don’t stress the plants at the beginning of the season. You stress them at the end. Use less water closer to harvest. A lot of people use water right before harvest because they want a lot of weight in the fruit, but that’s not the time to use it. The fruit loses flavor that way.” 

Hernandez’s 2009 Grenache is a restrained, balanced and lovely effort. “A lot of people around here manipulate Grenache because they want more color in it so they add Syrah, but it should have a lighter color.” I tell Hernandez about Rayas, which he has never heard of, and I cite its light color and black tea and citrus peel aromatics – qualities apparent in his Grenache as well. I find it endlessly fascinating that many of Hernandez’s wines carry within them the kind of typicity demonstrated by some of the world’s great benchmark wines, yet he hasn’t had many of those wines. It’s a luxury he cannot afford. “Maybe my wines taste like the wines you’re talking about – from France, and other places – because I make them in an old-fashioned way. I learned from my mentor, a French man. He taught me old-world techniques.” Hernandez didn’t have the luxury of a lot of time spent with his mentor. “He taught me for two harvests, and then he died of a heart attack. He was a great man. He taught me so much.” 

I’m also very fond of Hernandez’s Sauvignon Blanc, and tell him so, enjoying its bracing acidity and linearity. “Sauvignon Blanc is very touchy”, Hernandez tells me. “Too many people remove too many leaves from the canopy. The sun beats it up. Then it tastes like Chardonnay. You have to keep the leaves on the canopy. Sauvignon Blanc loves that. Not too much sun. The right word for Sauvignon Blanc is ‘crisp’. It has to be crisp.”

His Tempranillo includes 50% stem inclusion. “There was a couple who came to taste from Los Angeles. They said that my Tempranillo taste like the wines of Spain. They said, “How do you do this?” he says, chuckling. I ask him why he chose to make a Tempranillo in the first place; it’s not a variety widely planted in Santa Barbara County. “A few years ago, an English guy told me ‘you have to plant Tempranillo,’ so I grafted some over. I think the climate here is good for it. I like it very much.” Indeed, Hernandez’s Tempranillo is reminiscent of Spain’s Ribera del Duero’s offerings – regal, earthy, nuanced. His is surprising in its sophistication. 

When I tell Hernandez that I love his Cabernet Sauvignon, he’s seems very pleased. “I play a lot with the barrels for this wine. It either has to be the same every year, or better – never worse – so I play a lot with barrels to make sure I’m using the right ones for each vintage.” How does he like his Cabernet? “It has to be big, but not too big, because it has to go with food. It has to have some spice in it. And it has to go with red meat.” 

We’ve been sitting inside his cold, small cellar for hours when I ask if I can stand and stretch. We go outside, where there’s a chilly breeze blowing, but an early sun peeking through the clouds warms us a little. He pours his Riesling for me. Despite being impressed with Hernandez’s wines thus far, I’m dubious as to how I’ll like his Riesling. It’s hard to find an American Riesling with just the right amount of petrol, feral notes, lively fruit and an inherent balance between acidity and viscosity. Happily, the Feliz Noche Riesling delivers on all fronts. “It’s good, isn’t it?” he asks, smiling broadly. “It’s very beautiful, and it ages well.” I ask Hernandez if he ever worries about whether or not people will enjoy his wines. “If I like them, I know people will like them. This little palate I have – there are a lot of palates like that out there.” I ask him if by “little” he means “inexperienced.” He says, “Yes,” and explains that while there are many people who have never had the world’s greatest wines, they know what they like. “There are a lot of new ways to make wines; people manipulate them with tannins, and other things. For me, if I have good fruit, I know I can make good wine. I make wines the old-fashioned way. With good fruit. And then the right barrels. That’s all.”

We round out our tasting by delving into his 2015 Chardonnay – only the second time he’s made Chardonnay in his life. It’s a real beauty, at least according to my palate, which favors leaner Chardonnays, possessing of some salinity and not a lot of butter or oak. “The clone we grow here is very special for this climate. It’s clone 4. The plants are very mature – over forty years old – so the wine is very high-quality. It’s very important to use the right barrel for this wine. There are barrels that will kill this juice. This was aged in a lot of neutral barrels.” 

A few days prior to our interview, Hernandez attended a seminar about pruning, ever eager to learn something new. “Some Italian farmers came here to teach us how to prune better. They told us what we were doing was wrong, and they were right! That’s important for every human being: to have an open mind and listen to other individuals. You can learn from anyone. Even if you think someone cannot teach you anything, if you listen to them, you will learn something.”

Hernandez (third from left), a devoted family man, pictured here at his son Marcelo's wedding in Cabo San Lucas

Hernandez (third from left), a devoted family man, pictured here at his son Marcelo's wedding in Cabo San Lucas