Being that much closer to the Sonoma Coast and Russian River AVAs, the towns and wineries we toured last Saturday provided plenty to satisfy said jones (didn’t Said Jones used to be on “The View”?).
Our first stop, at the crack of 9:30 a.m., was Merry Edwards, and a civilized tasting held in what we dubbed “The Board Room,” a sliding-door alcove off the main entrance. Meredith Edwards, nicknamed “Merry” in college, has been a driving force in Cali winemaking for decades.
From fighting the “males only” vintners’ club back in the day when a female with an enology degree from UC Davis might land a gig as lab assistant, to a singular passion, fostered during a sojourn in France, to espouse a Burgundian sensibility, Merry Edwards has built a reputation that puts her in the illustrious company of your Heidi Barretts, Helen Turleys and your Zelma Longs.
Off to Lynmar Estate, and the gorgeous grounds surrounded by the estate Quail Hill Vineyard, with the winery facility up the hill. It also happened to be one of our VISA Signature comp-tasting participants. Nice juice; a sentiment echoed by an adjacent industry distributor hosting a pair of wine pros from South America.
Kathy and I kept Sebastopolicing the vicinity, stopping in at Red Car Wine Co., and Dutton Estate.
Red Car, named for the erstwhile vehicles that used to ply the erstwhile extensive Los Angeles trolley system, was founded by an erstwhile ‘80s film producer specializing in, then, straight-to-VHS product. Ah, I remember it well: ‘twas the time of action star Jeff Speakman’s visage staring out at you from the Blockbuster shelf (to paraphrase comic Kevin Pollack, “You have a Jew as an action star; Jeff Speakman screams, ‘STOP WITH THE KICKING!’ ”).
The all-caps denotes the name of one of Pollack’s ‘90s comedy specials. And, yes, K and I rented it, years ago, from a local Hollywood Video. Erstwhile, VHS and BTW. RIP.
With John, tasting host at Red Car when Kath and I stopped in, it’s a good bet that the winery and its Sonoma Coast-sourced product will, to use a totally inappropriate metaphor for an LA streetcar system, ensure that the rubber meets the road. Wonderful stuff in the glass.
But, damn you, J! He busted me on being Canadian. Of course, he used to play ice hockey avec beaucoup Quebecois, so he caught a hint of my accent that I have been trying, I thought successfully, to suppress for decades.
I mean, it’s not like I said that the Pee-Knot-Nwarrrr would go great with a Montreal Smoked Meat, eh. Though, it just might.
Jacques, je te dis: Maudit! But I do agree with you about Don Cherry: Encore une fois, je Dis: Maudit!
Hey, so on to Dutton Estate and their high-scoring, great-tasting stuffing. Apparently, there’s Dutton Estate and there’s Dutton-Goldfield: two separate joints, two bros who decided to pursue different projects after years of working together, one with a partner.
Dutton Estate is pretty hassle-free: a chill room that was signing up wine club members as we got our first pour. The facility is more than a little bit country, but the juice rocked.
A jaunt up to Forestville (no passport stamp required) treated us to the varietal bottlings up at Joseph Swan, where crush was in full swing, and the berries were coming in big time. Ironically, it was the only Zinfandel we picked up this trip, and sourced from the Sonoma Valley (the home of Naked Wines’ new tasting facility, Mayo, Ledson et al). Kathy and I got a glimpse of the glamorous world of winemaking as we watched bin after bin of grapes awaiting hand punch-down, by a true “cellar rat” assistant, working to add color to the vino from the skins.
We hit Taft Street back across the “papers, please, Mein Herr” border to Sebastopol, where ginger winery kitty Finnegan somehow led us to purchase a winery exclusive: A 2009 Russian River Riesling.
And then on to our Pinot ‘ppointment at Freeman, complete with a visit to the caves and an apres tasting. An awe-inspiring visit: gorgeous cellars and a welcoming, knowledgeable vibe from this quintessential Pinot and Chard house.
Our final stop was NPA (Natural Process Alliance), a loose amalgam of like-minded winemakers embracing a sustainable, green vibe on the Coast. Kath and were lucky to taste with Kevin, and the Salinia Sonoma Coast Chardonnay he poured was outrageous in its flavor profile.
Presidential debates time: “W” didn’t drink no more, although he “choked on a pretzel” while watching football on television; Milt Rooney is Mormon.
We can go home to Oakley, but whaddya serve at table to Bidzina Ivanishvili? Georgia on my mind. Sebastopol on my map.
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