The town of Discovery Bay, California is located about a 20-minute drive southeast of our Oakley burg. It’s an affluent little hamlet, full of well-heeled folks of all ages, who, if they haven’t all retired early, seem to have figured out how to make a good living in yachting or golf. Any rush hour commute to or from Disco Bay would be horrendous; notorious Highway 4 is the access point to this community of big homes often situated either on the water, or ringing the fairway.
The Discovery Bay Golf and Country Club has several tiers of membership, the top trio of which requires an initiation fee of $4,000, in addition to monthly dues in the hundreds of dollars. All but one level requires members to spend a quarterly minimum on food and beverages.
But, twice a year, the DBGCC throws open its doors to host its Wine Tasting & Sale, held at the clubhouse, and featuring dozens of wine reps at a dozen tables, pouring oceans of juice from their respective portfolios. It’s an outrageously crowded event, featuring hot-and-cold-running Tommy Bahama on the dudes, and more than a few women who, to paraphrase Raymond Chandler, “from 20 feet away looked like a lot of class; from 10 feet away (they) looked like they were meant to be looked at from 20 feet away.”
So it’s a bit disconcerting balancing the “Dahling, dahling” social aspect (of which we’re not a part; see “Initiation: Four Large”), with the actual wine aspect of the event, especially when you’re trying to get a pour, but stuck behind a lady of a certain age sporting both leopard print and sun damage, who decides that the Beringer Reserve Table is the perfect spot to stop and catch up with fellow country club member Lovey.
Kath and I have a pet peeve anyway about tasting room etiquette and visitors who hog the bar after getting their pour, and an event like this does nothing for our blood pressure. But this is our second wine event at “The Club,” and this time we perfected our system begun last time. It depends on the weather (luckily, the first Saturday in November had to be 80 degrees under cloudless skies), but the trick is to grab your wine, fill up a plate with food, then head outside, event program in hand, to the open tables on the gorgeous patio. When we were ready for another glass, one of us went to the appropriate pouring table with both glasses, leaving the other to hold down the fort. Brilliant!
There wasn’t necessarily a lot of ultra-high-end stuff being poured (though a Joseph Phelps Cab, the Stag’s Leap “Artemis,” and Rodney Strong’s “Symmetry” were nice to see on the menu), but there’s a lot of variety at different price points from all over the world. And local Brentwood wineries, Tamayo and Bloomfield, show up to shout out to CoCo County. There were even a couple of old faves from our old stomping grounds in Washington state.
Also, cases were available for purchase at wholesale. All in all, a fun way to pass a fall Saturday at “The Club.” And, at $25 for nonmembers, the price sure beats that $4K initiation.
No surprise that our ubiquitous pals from Diageo were out in full force at the tasting, pouring selections from their abundant book. Natch, they were pouring a few Rosenblum bottlings, though none screamed, “Oakley, Oakley!” It prompted Kath and me to dip into the cellar for a Rosenblum blend we’ve had on hand awhile. Actually, in this case, I use “blend” to refer to a mix of vineyard sources, though it’s a pretty good bet that the Rosenblum 2007 Zinfandel Contra Costa County counts a little Oakley fruit in the mix. In the glass it exhibited a deep, dark garnet color, while aromas of cocoa, plum and blueberry immediately had Kathy reaching for the bottle to check the alcohol level (a relatively modest 14.6). On the tongue, nice acidity modulated any overpowering of the palate, and there was that blueberry again. Kath thought that it was reminiscent of a Zin from Sonoma’s Dry Creek region. A nice bottle of wine, this.
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